by A. E. Rayne
‘She has no fever, my lord. No illness. She is out of bed. Recovered. But she is changed. There is nothing to heal,’ Sitha said. ‘She is not ill.’
‘Perhaps it is not healing she needs now, my lord?’ Else suggested carefully. ‘Perhaps it is magic?’
Meena who had been stuck at the table, trying to make sense of the book, lifted her head, not sure what Else was up to.
Jaeger narrowed his eyes. ‘What magic?’
Thorgils clenched his teeth and lifted his arm. He was holding his sword, trying to become comfortable with the weight of it again. If only Eadmund had aimed for his other shoulder, he thought with a grin. It faded quickly, though, as he thought of his friend, wondering what would happen to him now.
Wondering how they were ever going to get him back without Jael’s help.
Thorgils frowned, annoyed with himself, trying to stop his mind wandering towards the shadows.
‘Don’t let Astrid catch you doing that,’ Aleksander said as he came in the door. ‘You’ll have your stitches out for sure.’
‘My shoulder’s fine,’ Thorgils lied. ‘Good as new.’
Aleksander looked doubtful as he approached the bed.
Jael opened her eyes, staring at him.
He smiled at her in surprise. ‘You’re awake.’
Jael blinked, not sure that she was awake. Maybe it was another dream? She’d been having so many of those. Her mouth felt too dry to speak; her eyes too sore to keep open for long.
‘You need to stay still,’ Aleksander murmured, trying to keep her calm. He could see the panic in her eyes; the confusion. ‘Just rest. You have to get your strength back.’
‘I need to get up,’ Jael croaked. ‘We have to go home.’ She frowned. ‘The baby. I have to...’ Her eyes closed again.
‘Just rest, Jael,’ Thorgils murmured, hobbling towards the bed. ‘We’ll go home when you’re ready.’ He glanced at Aleksander, whose face reflected the worry on his. It was hard to see Jael so lifeless, and though it was encouraging that she had opened her eyes, she appeared too weak to stay awake for long.
‘Home,’ Jael whispered faintly. ‘Need to go home.’
And she fell back into her dreams.
6
‘There is another type of magic,’ Else began, wondering what tangled mess she was weaving for them all, but she saw the interest in Jaeger’s eyes and realised that she could hardly back out of it now, though Meena’s rapidly opening and closing mouth gave her pause. ‘Magic that doesn’t come from your book. Old magic.’
‘And who knows that?’ Jaeger asked.
‘Dragmall,’ Else said. ‘Your father’s volka. He came from Helsabor. A kingdom of wealth and gold, but also a kingdom of many forests. Of thick woodland. Of the creatures that make it their home. He knows a particular type of magic that comes from those places. Similar to that of the Tuurans.’
‘And how do you know this?’
Else blushed. ‘Well, long ago we were friends, he and I. Perhaps I could go and see him? Talk to him? He rarely leaves his cave these days, I know, but Dragmall would listen to me. He trusts me.’
Jaeger scowled at her, tempted but suspicious. There was something about the old woman that niggled at him. He was convinced that she was keeping secrets, but he would never find out what they were if he didn’t encourage her trust. ‘Go then. Go and see Dragmall, but take Meena with you.’
He turned from Else to Meena, not noticing the great relief that washed over Else’s face.
‘Find out what Dragmall thinks,’ Jaeger instructed Meena. ‘Take him to Morana if he believes that he can help her. We need to try everything possible to bring her back. Make him realise how important it is. How little time there is.’ Ignoring the pain in his aching jaw which he’d been clenching all day, Jaeger placed his hands on Meena’s shoulders, demanding her attention. ‘And when you return, you will tell me everything he said. I want to know all of it. There will be no secret keeping, will there, Meena?’
Meena nodded as Jaeger turned away, her eyes meeting Else’s.
Both of them swallowing.
Karsten wasn’t sure how to feel about the news that Jael Furyck was ill or injured. Stuck somewhere, unable to come back to Andala.
He wasn’t sure at all.
He hated the smug, fame-hungry bitch, but she was also their leader; the one with the visions; the one the gods favoured. The woman who would find a way back to Hest so they could take the book and kill Jaeger.
She was a dreamer. A warrior. A woman with answers.
And to lose her now?
Karsten wasn’t sure how he felt about that at all.
Berard looked worried. ‘But what will we do now?’ he wondered as they walked back to the new cottage they had been assigned after being released from the ship shed. None of them had shown any signs of the sickness, much to their relief, so Nicolene and Bayla had been busy trying to make the most of the smaller, less comfortable cottage while caring for five very miserable children.
‘You think we need her?’ Karsten snarled, though he felt odd himself.
‘I think Jael knows what is happening and we don’t,’ Berard said. ‘She sees what will come. Without her, we are weaker for sure.’
Karsten didn’t want to admit that his brother was right. ‘Don’t panic yet, Berard. Knowing her, she’ll return. And likely just in time, claiming all the glory for herself.’
Berard frowned. ‘Why do you hate Jael so much? You don’t even know her.’
Karsten turned to his brother, pointing to his eyepatch.
‘Yes, but that was in a battle. She didn’t seek you out to cut out your eye, Karsten. You were in a fight. She caught your eye with her sword. It could have been your cheek. It could have been her eye. She didn’t do it on purpose!’
After navigating their way through the rows of tightly packed, thatch-roofed cottages, they finally arrived at their own, but Karsten wasn’t ready to go in. He didn’t want to face their mother yet. ‘You know that, do you? Sure about that, are you?’
‘I’m not sure about anything that happens in someone else’s head, but I don’t think Jael’s that sort of person. From what I’ve seen, she seems fair. Decent. She is a queen. Ranuf Furyck’s daughter. And he was a king with honour.’
It was Karsten’s turn to frown, imagining what their father would have made of that statement. Haaron would likely have spat and snarled, though perhaps he would have agreed? Ranuf Furyck had been a sanctimonious king. And strong. Annoyingly strong. In all the years of trying, they had never defeated him or his equally sanctimonious daughter.
‘Perhaps,’ Karsten grunted. ‘Perhaps we’ll never know. If she doesn’t come back, that is.’ They heard a sudden loud wail that had Karsten closing his eye. ‘Although, if Jael doesn’t come back, it might take us a lot longer to get to Hest. Her brother hasn’t much clue about what he’s doing, even with that old man advising him. Maybe it’s time you and I thought about what we could do? Why do we need to wait on them? Get me into Hest, and I’ll have Jaeger on the end of my sword before he’s even taken a breath.’
Berard grabbed Karsten’s arm. ‘Jaeger has that woman with him. You can’t think you could make it there on your own? That we could? You’re not thinking, Karsten. If we even made it that far, Jaeger would kill us both as soon as we stepped into the city, and what good would that do anyone?’ Kai’s screaming was getting louder, but Berard was not letting his brother go just yet. ‘If you want to save our family, if you want a chance of claiming the throne for yourself, you can’t be reckless. Reckless will get us all killed!’
Karsten shook off Berard’s hand.
Berard reminded him of Haegen, and Haegen had always been trying to stop him. Always so cautious. Timid.
And where had that gotten them?
Karsten leaned in, watching as Ulf approached with one of his men. ‘We can’t sit around and wait to die,’ he growled. ‘It’s Jaeger whose responsible for all of this. We should be the ones to stop
him!’ And disappearing inside the cottage, he left Berard to wait for Ulf, who was already smoothing down his beard in anticipation of seeing Bayla.
Berard turned to him with a wobbly smile, trying to get Karsten’s words out of his head; knowing that if his brother were to do something stupid to get himself killed, he would be the only Dragos left to stop Jaeger.
Draguta was victorious.
Her one true enemy was powerless. Well, she had many enemies, she supposed, but Eadmund was with her now, and Jaeger was impotent without Morana, who was impotent herself. Draguta couldn’t stop smiling as she stared into her seeing circle, watching the pathetic figure of Jael Furyck.
So pale. So ill.
So helpless.
It was the perfect moment to finish her.
Jael blinked, watching over the woman’s shoulder, trying to see what she was looking at. Edging closer, she peered into the circle of blood-red symbols, but there was nothing to see, only the dark surface of the wooden table.
But the woman could see something, Jael was certain.
She was watching something. Someone.
Her?
Shivering, Jael glanced around, trying to see where she was. The cottage was no more than a one-room hovel, but the woman? She looked like an elegant lady. A dreamer. Jael frowned, puzzled, turning as the door opened.
As Eadmund walked in.
Jael’s mouth fell open, her heart pounding.
He was bright red, dripping with sweat, his tunic wet through, clinging to him.
Draguta jumped, blinking herself out of her trance. ‘Why are you back?’ she snapped, trying to focus on Eadmund.
‘Why?’ He looked confused, pouring himself a cup of wine, there being nothing else to drink that he could see. ‘I’ve finished training.’
‘Already? Well, let that be the first session of the day, then. You must become better than that hulking beast out there. Better than any man here. I want you to defeat every one of them. You must be capable of that and more, Eadmund. Capable of defeating Jaeger Dragos himself.’
‘I hardly think that’d take much work. Jael defeated him easily enough.’
Jael shivered, hearing the detachment in Eadmund’s voice. He sounded so cold.
Draguta snorted. ‘So I’ve heard, but I don’t believe Jaeger was at his best that day. Your wife was lucky to face such a weakened opponent. But now that he is reunited with the book, it will be making him more powerful than before. Much more.’ She jammed her teeth together at the thought of Jaeger touching her book; claiming its power for himself. ‘That is its gift, you know. Power. And if we allow the book to remain in Jaeger’s hands, his power will only grow.’ She shuddered, her body jerking violently. ‘And after what he did to me? Trying to kill me? He thought that he could kill me?’ Her voice rose, her pale cheeks turning as red as her lips. ‘He made a mistake that night. They all did. And when Evaine arrives with what I need, Jaeger will find out just how much of a mistake it was.’
Jael frowned, trying to make sense of everything, but it was hard to keep her focus. She wanted to reach out and touch Eadmund, to turn his head, to make him look into her eyes. To see her. But everything started to fade, and she panicked, wanting to stay in the dream.
There was more she needed to know.
‘Find something to eat,’ Draguta grumbled, her patience wearing. ‘Rest if you must, but then you will go and train again, Eadmund. Again and again. I will need you by my side for what is to come.’
It was Eadmund’s turn to feel annoyed. ‘But, Draguta –’
Jael gasped, and everything went black.
‘Eadmund.’
Astrid leaned over the bed, feeling Jael’s head, watching her. She appeared to be dreaming. ‘Ssshhh,’ she murmured, running a hand over Jael’s long, dark hair. ‘Ssshhh.’
‘How is she?’ Thorgils wondered from a chair by the fire.
‘Much cooler,’ Astrid smiled, pleased by the sudden drop in Jael’s temperature.
Thorgils let out a loud sigh, sitting back. ‘That’s good news.’
‘I hope so,’ Astrid said, straightening up. ‘I’ll go and make more of that tincture, but before I do, let me look at those stitches of yours again.’
‘They’re fine,’ Thorgils muttered dismissively. ‘Go and make the tincture. It’s Jael you need to worry about. Not me.’
‘Perhaps, but you’re not going to be much use to her if your wounds fester, are you?’
Thorgils relented, standing up, easing his tunic over his head, grimacing at the pain of lifting his arm. He looked down at his shoulder wound, pleased to see that the flesh around the stitches was no longer an angry red.
Astrid frowned. ‘Don’t be too impatient to go to war. You need to give the wound a chance to heal first. The stitches won’t hold if you start swinging a sword before its healed.’
Thorgils grinned. ‘Well, I don’t know about that. Seems to me you did a good job. They don’t look like they’re going anywhere.’
‘Perhaps,’ Astrid muttered, pointing to his trousers. ‘Now, let’s see the other one.’
Jael could hear them.
Her eyes were closed, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make them open. Eventually, Astrid and Thorgils’ voices became a buzzing drone in the distance as her mind wandered back to Eadmund.
Eadmund who was with Draguta, which was surely worse than Eadmund being with Evaine.
She had to find him in her dreams again.
She needed to see where he was.
Once the old healer and Jaeger’s servant had left Morana’s chamber, Evaine had locked the door and hurried to a bed, laying out everything she had bought at the markets, ignoring Morana, who sat in a chair by the flameless fire pit, not appearing to notice her at all.
She had purchased a large, leather satchel into which she had stuffed a water bag, a wrapped packet of hard cheese, slivers of salt fish, a small rye loaf, and a side of smoked pork. There was a tinderbox, a new, bigger knife – which had come with its own whetstone and scabbard – and a pouch full of silver coins she had taken from Morac’s cottage. Evaine frowned, realising that she would need to grab a fur to sleep on too; not wanting to imagine the deprivations she would have to endure trying to find her way to Flane.
But none of it would even be possible if she couldn’t get the book for Draguta.
The door handle rattled, and Evaine jerked upright, quickly shoving everything back into the satchel and pushing it under the bed. Standing up, she smoothed down her dress, brushed loose strands of hair out of her eyes and strode to the door. ‘Who is it?’
‘Who is it?’
Evaine shivered, recognising that voice. She turned the key and reluctantly pulled open the door.
‘Why did you lock the door?’ Jaeger growled, running his eyes over Evaine’s breasts, remembering the sweet taste of her. ‘What are you up to in here?’
Evaine swallowed as Jaeger stepped into the reeking chamber, trying to meet his eyes. ‘Morana needs peace. She needs to recover. Everyone has been in and out all day long. It was too much for her, so I locked the door to give her some privacy.’
‘You actually care for someone besides yourself? I find that hard to believe,’ Jaeger laughed, walking over to Morana’s chair. He could quickly see that nothing had changed, apart from the smell of the place, which had intensified in its foulness. ‘And why is that?’ Turning, Jaeger rounded on her. ‘Why do you care whether Morana lives or dies? You think she can keep you safe from me?’ And he ran a hand over Evaine’s shining, blonde hair, bleached lighter by the intense glare of the Hestian sun.
Evaine held his gaze as Jaeger grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her towards him.
‘No one can keep you safe from me,’ Jaeger whispered hoarsely, his eyes boring into hers. ‘Especially not Eadmund. When he arrives, if he hasn’t changed his mind about you and headed back to his wife, I will kill him. And make you watch.’ He didn’t blink as he released Evaine, pushing her away f
rom him. ‘I am the King of Hest, and everything in this kingdom belongs to me. Including you. Including that door, so do not lock it again. Do you understand me?’
Evaine stumbled, nodding, hoping that was the end of it. Her mind was quickly jumping around to what else she needed to gather before she could escape. A horse was surely easy enough. But the book...
How was she going to get the book?
Jaeger cracked his neck as he turned back to Morana, eager to see any sign of a recovery. He bent forward, prodding her shoulder. She twitched but did not look towards him. He saw drool pooling at one side of her mouth; the side that was now twisted down unnaturally, matching the right eye above it, which had indeed turned milky white.
There was no doubting that Draguta had done something to Morana, and as much as Jaeger pretended not to care, he knew that he needed her. Meena wasn’t ready to read the book – in his heart, he knew that – yet the book was calling to him, desperate to be unleashed again.
He had to find a way to use it before Draguta returned.
Meena hurried alongside Else as they left the castle behind. She felt as though she was being watched, which was odd, she knew. Draguta was gone, and Morana was incapable of even moving by herself, but still, Meena felt wary.
And she didn’t know what Else was up to.
Luckily enough, though, Else did.
‘I almost married Dragmall,’ she smiled wistfully, her old eyes seeking out long-forgotten memories in the scenery they passed; remembering a time when she would hurry away from the castle to meet him. ‘I was very young. Besotted with him. He was newly arrived from Helsabor. So intoxicating. Mysterious. Handsome. And he knew a great many things. His father was King Wulf’s volka, which was partly why he came here, as he knew that there was no chance to further himself while his father lived.’
Meena stumbled on a loose cobblestone, biting her tongue in surprise. ‘Why didn’t you marry him?’ she wondered, grimacing as she tasted blood.