by A. E. Rayne
She checked on Brill who was guarding the entrance to the tower before throwing her herbs onto the flames, her fingers dripping with the bloody potion she had painted the symbols with. She had drunk the rest of it, and could now feel its warm, iron tang settling in her chest.
Draguta’s eyes rolled up as she shot forward, jerking into the darkness with an explosion of flames.
The screeching came before the horn.
Thorgils rolled out of Isaura’s arms.
The smell in the house was overpowering. Familiar.
Isaura gripped his hand, not wanting him to go.
‘Get everyone dressed,’ Thorgils said, keeping his voice even, grabbing his trousers as his heart started racing. ‘Lock the door after me but be ready to leave.’ He sat down to quickly put on his boots. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can. Have the torches ready to burn. Keep the fire going. They hate fire.’
‘Catapult crews!’ Jael screamed across the valley. ‘Catapult crews! Light your braziers!’ She walked to the other side of the rampart and called the same thing down into the fort. They had gone over this drill all afternoon, and Jael hoped the men would remember it. Looking up, she saw that the moon was masked by thick clusters of clouds.
Hopefully, that meant the gods were here.
She felt that they were. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end. Or perhaps that was the cold?
Jael had no idea how many dragur were out there, but she could hear them edging closer. She could feel them surging forward in rumbling waves.
So could Aleksander as he joined her.
‘Them again,’ he yawned, slipping a helmet over his head. He tied it under his bearded chin, blinking his eyes open, trying to get some feeling into his legs.
Jael had run back into her bedchamber and squeezed into her armour, shoving her own helmet on her head. Having had two encounters with the dragur now, she knew that she was going to need all the protection she could get. ‘Can you see them?’ she asked. ‘I can’t see a thing.’
‘No, but I can smell them,’ Aleksander said, squinting at the dark valley, trying to spot anything moving. ‘Unless that’s Thorgils?’
Thorgils snorted from Jael’s other side. ‘Thought that might have been you. Or Ivaar.’
Ivaar didn’t bother to snort. His eyes were trained on the dark shapes in the distance. He could certainly smell something and hear odd noises, but he couldn’t see anything either. ‘Where are they?’ he wondered, trying to wake himself up. ‘Perhaps they’re afraid of the symbols? Maybe they’re working?’
Jael turned as Axl and Fyn edged their way down the suddenly full rampart walk. It was impossible to see much, even with the dotted glow of the braziers they had set up around the valley, but something was moving out there. She could feel it. ‘Let’s light it up!’ Jael called down the line. ‘Gant! Two fire arrows! We need to see!’
‘Feels like winter,’ Thorgils shivered, jiggling his legs as he tightened his swordbelt. ‘Are we about to get snowed on again, do you think?’
‘I don’t think snow would bother them,’ Aleksander said, listening to the whistle of arrows shooting over their heads, disappearing into the darkness; his eyes widening as the flames illuminated the valley.
Gant felt his heart stutter.
Ivaar’s mouth fell open.
As far as they could see there was nothing but hollow-eyed, dead men jerking down Bog’s Hill, filling the valley like a rotting, blue flood.
Thousands of them.
‘Oh.’ Jael turned to Aleksander and Thorgils. ‘There’s a few more now.’ She frowned as everything went dark again. ‘Another arrow, Gant!’
And this time they could see the mass of dragur parting to allow one creature through. And that dragur, standing slightly taller than the rest, wielded a long, rusting sword which he held aloft, calling to the army of creatures who screeched back at him.
And satisfied with their response, he turned back, pointed to the fort and charged.
Arriving in Jaeger’s chamber, Draguta immediately felt the pull to return to her cottage. Her seeing circle was calling to her, but she couldn’t leave her trance.
Not yet.
Jaeger was naked, sprawled across his bed, Meena asleep beside him.
Draguta walked towards them. It felt like wading through water, and she could feel the strain of forcing her body forward, dragging herself to the bed. And then she was there, leaning over Jaeger, and Draguta’s desire to kill him was suddenly greater than her plan to bind him.
Studying him, she calmed herself, focusing her mind, conscious of the need to leave. So, lifting the ends of the thin, black rope she had tied around her waist, she bent forward and fed one end under Jaeger, digging around to pull it out the other side. He wriggled helpfully, allowing her to grasp it, quickly tying the two ends of the rope into a secure knot.
Binding them together.
And straightening up with a smile, Draguta closed her eyes, throwing back her head as she started to chant.
Meena watched from near the door, not knowing what to do.
Was it a dream?
Was it happening now?
She could see herself lying next to Jaeger; cool moonlight flooding in through the window, falling across the bed. She could see clearly enough what Draguta was doing. But would Draguta see her?
Panicking, Meena squeezed her eyes shut, trying to pull herself away from the dream; trying to find another dream. She didn’t want to wake up, or Draguta would see her. And if she saw her, she would surely kill her.
But when Meena opened her eyes, she was still there.
And then Draguta turned around, her eyes widening in surprise.
Lightning jagged across the night sky as the dragur ran, surging forward, knocking into each other, following their leader across the valley.
Towards the catapults.
During the afternoon, with Gant and Aleksander’s help, Jael had laid them all out, bringing almost every catapult they had into the valley to make themselves a trap.
A dragur catching trap.
And now it was time to spring it.
‘Catapult crews!’ Jael bellowed, though her voice did not carry far; the shrill noise of the dragur was too loud, drowning out everything else. ‘Release!’ The first jars of sea-fire flew into the seething river of creatures, who didn’t hesitate as they charged, ignoring the cracking pots oozing thick, black liquid all over them. ‘Archers! Nock! Light your arrows!’ Jael was straining to see anything. The flickering glow of torches and braziers along the ramparts revealed only shadows; though those shadows were terrifying enough. ‘Aim!’ An impossible request. ‘Release!’ And Jael listened to the pings as the bowstrings snapped back, burning arrows arcing into the night sky, dropping down into the mass of dragur.
And then the first explosion.
Leaving Gant to run the ramparts, Jael headed for the stairs, hurrying out of the main gates to join her Islanders who were lined up in front of the broken wall between the ditch and a row of catapults. More sea-fire exploded, sparks flying, flames lighting up the rumbling sky. They were going to have to work hard to keep the fire away from the fort, from the catapults, and from themselves.
Jael reached the first catapult where Fyn was already waiting with his bow in hand. Sending him to the back with the rest of her archers, Jael took over. ‘Load!’ she cried, her mind jumping to her grandmother who she knew had left the fort with Eydis and Biddy.
She hoped that Kormac and her cousins would keep them safe.
Her well-trained catapult crew pulled back the hammer, securing the tension, carefully loading another jar into the wooden spoon as the dragur rushed them. ‘My archers!’ Jael turned to the ten men behind her who stood in two rows, either side of the flaming brazier. ‘Light your arrows!’
Some of the dragur were now stumbling in confusion, attacked on all sides, on fire, banging into each other as they forced their way towards the fort, following their gigantic leader. Jael could se
e his sword in the air, its blade curling like those carried by the fearless warriors from the Fire Lands; its tarnished edge winking in the exploding sea-fire.
Untouched by the flames, he crashed forward.
Karsten was bellowing at his men who were protecting the ditch with the Islanders. They stood behind the catapults, waiting, swords, spears and axes at the ready. ‘Hold! Do not move, you fuckers! Hold!’ He was pleased to see that they looked angry as they jiggled on the spot, firming up their grips, eyes fixed on what was coming.
He felt angry.
The sound of the dragur had his guts swirling and his blood pumping as he jiggled his axes, finding it just as hard to hold as his men were.
‘Fire!’ Ivaar called as his crew released the tension on the catapult next to Jael’s, jumping away as the hammer snapped back, sending another jar of sea-fire into the dragur.
Thunder was rolling, but the cries of the dragur were louder.
There were so many of them.
Surging forward, through the flames.
Biddy wanted to say something. She could hear the terrifying sounds of what had to be the dragur attacking the fort in the distance. The explosions came regularly, bursting and banging, and she almost bit her tongue every time, despite the heady fug of smoke dulling her senses. Her body was shaking in fear, but she didn’t want to disturb Edela, so she pressed her lips together, waiting.
Edela had entered a trance as she bent towards the tiny rat’s skin, painting three symbols onto it with blood, chanting in low, murmuring tones.
Biddy found herself holding her breath.
Hoping those dragur would stay far away from them.
Draguta moved slowly towards Meena. Her breath burned her lungs, though she did not feel weak. Not when she saw Meena’s petrified face.
Cornering her at the door, Draguta reached out and grabbed Meena around the throat, knowing that she didn’t have time for this. She needed to leave. This was not in her plans. She had other places to be now.
But she couldn’t resist.
‘You.’ She squeezed Meena’s throat, watching terror bloom in her eyes. ‘Killed me.’
Meena tried to shake her head; she couldn’t breathe.
‘Tried to kill me,’ Draguta corrected herself. ‘But you couldn’t. You can’t.’ She glanced back at Jaeger who was still sleeping. The black rope was endless in its length. They were joined now. He belonged to her, and wherever she went, whatever Jaeger did, he would remain bound to her. Do her bidding. Bend to her will, and her will alone. ‘Jaeger will live. That is my choice. But you?’ She brought her nails around, digging them into Meena’s neck, inhaling the fear rising from her. ‘What should I do with a disloyal, little mouse like you?’
The sea-fire was burning the dragur, and they were scattering like flaming beetles, running in different directions now, charging for the catapults, past the catapults, into the treeline that edged the eastern side of the valley.
Looking for other ways into the fort.
Lightning shot straight down from the thunderous sky, exploding the sea-fire, and the dragur panicked further, on fire, clambering on top of each other; pushing and fighting to follow their leader.
A screeching knot of creatures burst forward, aiming straight for the broken wall. Aiming for Jael, Thorgils, Ivaar, Karsten and the Islanders who stood in front of it by their swinging catapults.
‘Nock!’ Jael screamed, hurrying behind the archers to join her men. Their swords and axes were out; sweat beading across tense foreheads. Waiting. ‘Light your arrows!’ She knew they wouldn’t be able to keep the dragur out for long. The creatures were too strong, and they weren’t able to launch the sea-fire near the walls. They couldn’t afford to set themselves on fire, but the burning dragur forcing their way towards the fort had no such worries.
‘Spears! Swords! With me!’ Jael felt her anger rising, overwhelming any fear that they wouldn’t be able to stop them.
That they wouldn’t be able to kill them.
The dragur had killed her baby, and she was going to send them all back to their leafy graves for good.
19
Biddy could hear the clashing of blades nearby.
Then Kormac’s voice.
‘Edela!’
Biddy spun around, panicking. The grove was surrounded on all sides by tall hazel trees, packed tightly together, and she couldn’t see out, but she could hear that something was out there.
Blades were clanging. Grunting and cursing. Unfamiliar shrieking noises.
And that smell...
‘Edela?’ Biddy tried to get her attention, but Edela was swaying on her knees, eyes open, chanting, not there at all.
Edela held up the rat’s skin before laying it into the hole where she had already placed the bodies of three rats and the ashes of the one whose skin she had drawn the symbols onto. It felt as though the darkness was gripping her shoulders, and she tried to imagine the warmth of the sun on her face as she called to the gods, asking for Aurea, Goddess of Light, to help her banish the darkness. Ignoring Biddy’s pleading voice and the screeching noises, the booms of thunder, the odd smell, and Kormac’s cries, Edela stayed in her trance, struggling to her feet as Aurea came to join her in the battle of dark and light.
Eydis was in a trance too, watching a woman move into the circle with Edela. Golden-haired and white-robed she glided into the space before her, her eyes focused on Edela, chanting in a soft, breathy voice. Eydis was transfixed, certain she was in a dream, for how else could she see?
Biddy could only hear Edela. She only saw Edela as she swayed from side to side, her arms extended in front of her, repeating Aurea’s calm words.
And then the trees started rustling, and the putrid smell grew stronger, watering Biddy’s eyes. And she heard Aedan’s desperate cry.
‘Grandmother!’
‘I can help you!’
Draguta blinked. She could hear Meena’s pitiful voice in her head, though the girl’s lips weren’t moving. Those lips were turning black as Draguta continued to squeeze her throat.
‘I can help you! Please! You need an assistant to help you! I can. P-p-please!’
Draguta narrowed her eyes. ‘But what of Jaeger?’ she wondered. ‘How loyal are you to him, girl? Your lover? Your king?’
Meena blinked towards the bed. ‘I hate him!’ She hoped Draguta could hear her thoughts. ‘I hate him! I won’t tell him! Never!’
She saw black patches before her eyes now. Everything was going dark.
And then Meena was falling to the ground, onto her knees.
And Draguta was gone.
Aleksander could hear the rhythmic slapping of the catapults. They had been working steadily since the dragur had charged, and though it was hard to get the full picture of what was happening in the violent bursts of flames and lightning, he could tell that most of the dragur appeared contained in the middle of the valley. Pinned in on three sides by the sea-fire attack.
But he could also see that those who weren’t on fire were working their way out through the mangle of bodies and flames, finding escape routes, looking for other ways into the fort. They would not retreat. They would keep trying to get inside, wanting to kill Jael and take the book.
‘Hurry!’ Aleksander urged, turning to his men who ran in a ragged line behind him, feeling his shield banging against his back, knowing the beating he was about to get from those stone-fisted creatures. ‘We have to cut them off!’
As soon as the horn had blown he’d taken his men behind the catapults, into the woodland that bordered the eastern edge of the valley, running towards Bog’s Hill, hurrying to block the dragur’s main escape route.
Hoping to keep them trapped in the valley.
The dragur were howling as they sizzled and burned, but Jael could see some of them splintering into smaller groups, unharmed, rushing for the catapults, trying to stop them launching any more of the sea-fire.
Others were running up the hills to who knew where.
> Hopefully, not near Edela.
The smoke was dense, stinging her eyes and Jael coughed, spinning as a dragur rushed out of the darkness, its sword aimed at her head. She ducked, sweeping a flaming torch towards its face. The creature jerked away, twisting, looking for an escape, but Thorgils was there, and it didn’t have one.
Swinging with all the power his injured shoulder had to give, Thorgils released his axe and took off the dragur’s head. His eyes popped open in surprise, but Jael wasn’t there to admire his skill; she’d already left, realising that they were in danger of getting outflanked. ‘Islanders! Hold your line! Watch your flanks!’
Trying to heave smoky air into her lungs, Jael spun around, looking for where the most danger was coming from as the Islanders dragged themselves into something resembling a line. Ivaar was there too, and his men backed up with her, fanning out across the broken wall, archers forming in the fort behind them near the braziers.
The dragur weren’t getting into the fort.
Not without a fight.
‘Grandmother!’ Aedan ran down the path, up to Furia’s Tree, stopping before the three women who blinked into his flaming torch with glazed eyes. ‘We’ve killed the dragur!’ he cried, feeling his right eye closing up, struggling to see. It was as though he’d been hit by a hammer. ‘There were only two, but more will come. I can hear them in the forest. We have to go! I need to get you back to the fort!’
Biddy grabbed Eydis’ hand, leaving Aedan to take Edela.