by A. E. Rayne
After Edela had explained her vision to Biddy and Eydis, no one had spoken.
There had been surprise about the baby from Eydis, and tears from them all. And then they had sat quietly with their own thoughts, thinking about Jael.
Hoping she would be alright.
Biddy eventually decided that she couldn’t take the silence a moment longer and she started sweeping. Eydis crawled back into bed, wishing she could fall into a dream. Edela sat in her chair by the fire, feeling too warm for its heat, and too worried about Jael to speak at all.
Thorgils couldn’t feel his arse. He’d been sitting on the stool for hours.
Jael was still in bed, eyes closed, occasionally crying out in pain.
She hadn’t spoken in some time.
Astrid had taken Aleksander away to the door. ‘Jael has lost a lot of blood, and it’s weakened her. We must try to move things along more quickly now. I need the baby out of her, so you must help her focus. I’m going to give her a tincture to see if it will hasten the birth. You try and get her to focus her mind.’
Aleksander’s ears were buzzing. He was almost too confused to think.
He nodded anyway.
‘Talk to her. Guide her. Bark at her if you must. Jael is a warrior, so she needs to know what she’s fighting. She needs to know that she is in a battle to save her life now. We have to stop that bleeding.’
Aleksander saw the fear in Astrid’s eyes, and he felt a hand clench around his heart. He nodded again, thinking of all the times he had ridden into battle beside Jael. A small part of him had always felt sick with nerves for himself, but most of him had been worried about her.
About losing her.
Jael let out a roar, and Astrid hurried back to the bed. Aleksander took a deep breath, clearing his mind of everything but what he needed to do.
He needed to help Jael save herself.
Edela wanted it to be dark. She wanted the day to hurry along. She wanted to feel tired enough to fall asleep and dream, but it was a bright summer’s day, and she was alert, twitching, too anxious to sit still, let alone relax enough to sleep.
Darkness would help. Her body would respond to the night, she knew, but the only darkness she could see was in her thoughts.
After Biddy made a meal that no one ate, they went for a walk.
Biddy disappeared into the hall to help Derwa set a broken arm. Eydis stayed with Edela, walking across the square, out through the harbour gates and away from the fort. She could hear the water lapping gently around the broken piers; the seabirds calling to each other, fighting over the fish they had caught. She could feel a welcome breeze ruffling her dress, cold on her face, but most of all Eydis could sense Edela’s panic and confusion as she gripped her hand, guiding her down the path.
Their fears mingled together, rendering them both silent; each of them trying to think of something they might do to help.
‘Ayla told me once that she could talk to the gods,’ Eydis whispered. She couldn’t hear anyone nearby, but she spoke quietly just in case. ‘If she were here, perhaps... perhaps she could talk to them? They’re supposed to protect Jael, aren’t they? Isn’t the prophecy about that? About how they need her?’
Edela blinked herself out of her trance-like state. ‘Yes, the gods need Jael, and they have always protected her, or so I thought.’ She shook her head. ‘None of this makes any sense.’
‘Unless it’s Draguta?’ Eydis suggested. ‘Unless Draguta is more powerful than the gods?’
That was something Edela didn’t want to believe possible. She squeezed Eydis’ hand, feeling terror pulsing through it, realising that as worried as she felt about Jael – and for the first time in memory, Edela truly did feel worried about Jael – she needed to keep them both calm.
For a dreamer’s mind had a habit of wandering away to dark places.
Astrid’s face was round, with dimples and soft lines at the corners of two grey eyes that smiled a lot. She wasn’t smiling now as she gripped Jael’s hand and spoke in her ear. ‘You are tired, I know, but you need to help the baby on its way.’ She glanced anxiously at Aleksander who had been stoking the fire.
Jael’s eyes were closed. She couldn’t think.
She wanted to think, to make sense of it all, but she couldn’t.
Her grandmother had never been wrong. She had seen her daughter. She had been so confident that she would come. They both had. A winter baby, Edela had said. Jael remembered those cold hands gripping her belly; the smile on her old face. A winter baby like you, she’d said.
‘Aarrghh!’ Jael grunted, her eyes popping open as she squeezed Astrid’s hand.
‘Good, that’s it,’ Astrid said, motioning with her head for Aleksander to take Jael’s hand as she slipped hers out of it. ‘In a moment I’m going to get you to push even harder. As hard as you can.’
It was growing dark again now. Jael had been in labour since well before dawn, yet little had happened.
She felt defeated and exhausted, ready to give up. Too tired to push.
Aleksander smiled at her pale face, glistening with sweat. ‘You’re nearly there. Just another push, then you can rest.’
Jael stared at him, wanting to curl into a tiny ball and hide away from his sympathetic eyes. She tried not to think of Eadmund, though he was all she wanted to think about. She wanted to hold his hand. Cry in his arms.
Their child.
She had lost their child.
It was all her fault.
‘Now, push!’
And biting her teeth together, Jael held onto the image of Eadmund’s face and screamed.
They hadn’t spoken since they’d sat down to supper, though each one of them knew they should try and eat something. Biddy had made leek and nettle soup with rye bread. Usually one of Edela’s favourites, but the smell was turning her stomach.
‘Did you hear anything about Ayla?’ Eydis asked, trying to distract them.
‘I finally saw Entorp. Bruno was with him. Ayla is holding on,’ Biddy said, pushing away her bowl. She bent down to pick up Vella who was whimpering, paws up on her knee. ‘Weak but holding on, he said.’
Edela’s worries pounded her like a giant wave crashing against the shore. Her heart was racing, her shoulders knotted. She wrung her hands, jumping at a pop from the fire. ‘Draguta did this.’
Biddy’s eyes were wide. ‘To Jael?’
‘Yes. She knew about the baby. She saw it. I know she did.’ Edela had thought of little else all day, finally coming to the conclusion that Eydis was right.
Biddy shook her head, feeling tears coming again. ‘Will Jael live?’
‘I...’ Suddenly Edela had no confidence in anything she believed to be true. She dropped her eyes to her hands. They looked so withered and old. She was so withered and old. But Jael needed her, and she couldn’t let her down. ‘I don’t know,’ she whispered, her shoulders curling forward, tears rolling down her sagging cheeks. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Oh, Edela,’ Biddy cried, unable to hold herself together any longer; not even for Eydis’ sake. She reached for Edela’s hand. ‘Not Jael. Please, not Jael. Please say she’s going to live!’
‘You need to sleep now. It will help. I must go back to my cottage. Make you another tincture. A broth. A tea. They will help you recover your strength.’
‘The baby?’ Jael’s voice was weak, her hand shaking as she held it out to Astrid. She had no idea if it was day or night. Everything felt dark. She almost couldn’t see. Her ears were ringing so loudly that she couldn’t hear much either.
‘I’ve wrapped her up for now. Waiting...’
‘Her?’ The tears came again. ‘Give her to me... please.’
Astrid glanced at Aleksander who nodded and followed her to the table where the healer had laid the tiny baby, wrapped in a soft, woollen blanket. He lifted the small bundle into his arms, shocked by how light she felt; how still. And silently he carried her towards Jael who had propped herself up in the bed with Thorgils’ help.
>
She looked so weak, he thought. Ghostly. Swollen eyes. Bruised and scratched.
Broken.
But she held out her arms and took her daughter in them.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Jael sobbed at her first glimpse of that tiny, still face. ‘I’m so sorry.’ Her tears fell onto the baby’s closed eyes, and she gently wiped them away. ‘I’m so sorry. So sorry.’
‘It’s not your fault, Jael,’ Aleksander tried, feeling his own tears falling.
But Jael didn’t hear him.
She couldn’t hear anything but the howl of pleasure as the dragur struck her stomach, over and over again.
Killing her baby.
Eydis still had one of Jael’s arm-rings. She had tried to return it, but Jael had insisted she keep it. ‘Just in case,’ she had grinned before she left for Hallow Wood with Aleksander. ‘Just in case you need me, or need to see something for me.’
And now Eydis did. More than anything, Eydis needed to see Jael, to find a way to help her. She rolled onto her side, listening to Biddy’s sniffing and Edela’s snoring, gripping that arm ring with a desperation she hadn’t felt since she had tried to dream of a way to prevent her father’s death.
She didn’t want to think about Eadmund or Ayla. She needed to help them too, but for now, there was only Jael.
Squeezing her eyes closed, Eydis brought Jael’s face to her mind, watching her wave as she rode away on Tig.
She had promised to come back to her.
She had to come back.
‘She’s hot.’
There was only Thorgils to talk to.
Jael was asleep. Astrid had gone back to her cottage for more supplies.
Thorgils sat in a chair beside Jael’s bed while Aleksander paced around, feeling her forehead every few minutes.
And every few minutes he had the same report.
Thorgils was trying to keep calm. They had been woken early in the morning by Jael’s cries of pain, and now, after a long day and night, his eyes were gritty, and his head was muddled.
And his heart was broken.
Eadmund was gone, lost to Evaine.
Jael’s daughter was dead, and Jael was...
Thorgils sighed, trying to think. ‘Wring out the cloth again,’ he muttered. ‘We need to keep her cool.’
‘I should go and get Astrid.’
‘Wait a while longer. Let Jael sleep. It was a long day.’ Thorgils glanced at the tiny bundle still lying in Jael’s arms, waiting for what would come next. ‘A hard day.’
Aleksander nodded. Thorgils sounded calmer than he felt. He could barely breathe as he took the warm cloth from Jael’s head and dipped it into the bucket of water by her bed. ‘If only Edela were here,’ he mumbled. ‘She would know what to do.’ He could feel himself panicking, and he thought of Ranuf’s stern face which instantly calmed him.
Panic was the enemy of survival, Ranuf had drummed into them.
It stopped you thinking and breathing. It made you vulnerable.
Panic wasn’t going to help any of them.
Inhaling a slow breath, Aleksander sat down on the bed.
Thorgils could see the worry in his eyes. ‘Did you know?’ he whispered. ‘About the baby?’
Aleksander shook his head, cross that he hadn’t even guessed. Jael had been acting strangely for some time, but with so much happening, it was just one more conversation he hadn’t found the time to have.
Thorgils needed to move. His thigh had gone numb, and he needed to stretch out his leg; rest his shoulder.
But he didn’t.
He just sat there staring at Jael, hoping she was going to live.
‘You were supposed to save her, weren’t you, Edela?’
The gleeful voice echoed around her head.
Edela tried to ignore it, but it vibrated straight through her, shaking her limbs.
She couldn’t escape its triumphant roar.
‘And now she will die, just as her baby died. Shall I make you watch? Is that a dream you’d like to have, I wonder, Edela? Would you like to watch your beloved Jael die?’
3
Edela’s dreams had been of no use; just a return to the darkness and the crowing voice and little in between.
No Jael anywhere she looked. And how desperately Edela had looked.
But the clouds would not part. They would not let her through.
They were storm clouds, darkening rapidly.
‘We should go to the hall. It looks like rain.’
Blinking, Edela turned to Biddy, lifting her boot out of the mud. ‘Perhaps you could? I think I will walk a while longer. I must find where the answers are waiting for me. Wherever that might be.’
Biddy glanced up at the sky, but she didn’t argue.
‘Keep things to yourself,’ Edela warned, staring at Biddy who was holding Eydis’ hand. ‘Both of you. We don’t need to worry anyone yet.’
Biddy swallowed, disturbed by the tremble in Edela’s voice. ‘Of course. Look after yourself, though. I don’t want you getting sick again.’
‘I will,’ Edela said listlessly as she turned and headed towards the last of the dismembered dragon. She kept her eyes low, her head down, avoiding the drizzle and the enquiring glances of everyone she passed as she headed for the main gates.
There were answers, she knew. And she just had to go and find them.
Thorgils and Aleksander stared at Astrid with weary frowns as she tried to keep them from worrying.
‘Willow bark will help. And we’ll warm up the cottage, get her sweating a bit. Don’t worry,’ Astrid smiled encouragingly. ‘Perhaps you both need some fresh air? Thorgils, you could stretch your leg, and there’s no harm in seeing the sun.’
They shook their heads, neither one inclined to leave the cottage. Jael was getting hotter; barely awake now. She hadn’t said a word all day, and they were becoming increasingly worried.
‘What about the baby?’ Thorgils wondered, glancing towards the basket Astrid had brought to keep her in.
‘We must wait on Jael for that,’ Astrid murmured. ‘Once the fever breaks and she recovers her strength...’ She tried to look confident, but the memory of all that blood nagged at her. ‘She just needs some time.’
Thorgils could hear the hesitation in Astrid’s voice.
‘I’ll get your crutch,’ Aleksander mumbled, not wanting to leave at all, but realising that the healer was right. They needed to take a breath in order to see things clearly.
Thorgils nodded.
‘You can’t help her,’ Astrid assured them. ‘This is Jael’s journey now. It is a path she must walk alone.’
‘What are you doing?’ Jael grumbled, pushing Eadmund’s hand away from her stomach.
‘Just checking,’ he grinned, sitting up.
‘Checking what?’
‘Well, you’ve been feeling ill these past few days, so I’m just checking.’
Jael frowned. ‘Get away with your checking! I just ate something that didn’t agree with me.’
‘I’m sure you’re right.’
Jael frowned some more. ‘Go away, Eadmund Skalleson!’
‘You would tell me?’
‘If I was pregnant? Oh, they’d hear me sobbing down in Hest, don’t worry about that!’ Jael grumbled, patting Ido who was wriggling beside her, ready to get up and have breakfast.
Eadmund laughed. ‘True, but you’d change your mind. I’ve no doubt. You’d change your mind.’
‘Oh, how little you know me,’ Jael yawned. ‘There’s nothing in the world I want less than a squawking baby.’
Eadmund leaned in to kiss her. ‘You’re a terrible liar, Jael Furyck.’
Edela hadn’t been to the tree in months.
She didn’t know why. Furia was the Goddess of War – everyone knew that – but she was also the Goddess of Childbirth. Life and death were joined together like day and night. Two parts of a circle. And this was Furia’s Tree, where Brekkans from every part of the kingdom would come to seek wisdom, knowl
edge, answers. An ancient grove hidden in the forest.
A sacred place of secrets and magic.
Edela sighed. She was sodden and sad, and she wanted to drop to her knees and sob. Her certainty had been shaken. Jael’s baby was dead.
And Jael?
The old tree’s gnarled trunk was wide. Even Thorgils couldn’t have fitted his arms around its massive girth. Its bark crawled with bright-green lichen and moss; its twisted branches hanging ponderously on either side in perfect symmetry. But it was just a tree, and suddenly Edela doubted what answers it could provide.
She stared at the damp ground, covered in a soggy mulch of leaves and twigs. It did not look inviting for her aching hips, but she eased herself down onto it anyway, deciding that she would close her eyes and let the clouds come and find her.
And though it was raining, and day and not night, she needed answers, and she prayed that the gods would help her find them.
Draguta was missing the ample luxuries that Hest had provided. The accommodation Brill had found for them was worse than anything she would have kept a slave in. It would have to do for now, though, Draguta knew. She had more important matters to turn her mind to than the quality of her furnishings.
But when they were resolved?
Well, there would be no need to settle for such poverty then.
Walking down the cobblestoned street, she raised her hand to the tall man on the large, brown horse who rode slowly towards her, leading another horse behind him. Her body tingled with certainty. ‘Eadmund!’
Eadmund frowned, pulling on the reins. He didn’t know where he was, but it definitely wasn’t Hest. And he didn’t recognise the woman who so clearly recognised him.
Swinging off his horse, he dropped to the ground with a groan, grateful to feel his feet again. ‘Who are you?’ he asked. ‘And where’s Evaine?’