The Raven's Warning

by A. E. Rayne

  Edela was reluctant to leave, hoping she’d finished the spell; wanting to wait and see, to go over what she had done, but Aurea had gone, and now, she realised, they had to go too.

  Aedan froze, gripping Edela’s hand. He could hear his father screaming. Quickly scanning the grove, Aedan handed his burning torch to his grandmother, and ran to the nearest tree, ripping off a branch, quickly stripping its leaves. Glancing at Biddy, he stuck it into the fire, urging it to catch. ‘You need to take this. Protect Eydis. I’ve got Edela. Stay close!’ And he pulled the burning branch from the fire, handing it to Biddy, kicking dirt over the flames.

  ‘Aron! No! No!’

  Aedan heard his father’s pained cry as he pushed his way down the secluded path, trying not to run. He could feel his grandmother’s hand tighten on his, the sharp intake of her breath, but he didn’t look around as he hurried her forward.

  Aleksander’s men were lined up across the mouth of the valley now, far enough away from the catapults not to be hit by the sea-fire, but close enough to cut off the dragur’s most obvious escape route. They waited, swords, spears and axes ready, choking on the intense clouds of smoke drifting towards them; blinking rapidly, trying to see.

  ‘Hold! Hold the line!’ he yelled, knowing that they couldn’t afford to let a single dragur through, but he could see at least twenty already running at them now. None of them were on fire. Many of them were carrying some form of weapon. ‘Hold!’

  He thought about Hanna, praying that Furia would let him see her again. ‘Archers!’ he bellowed, turning to the men arrayed behind his line. ‘Nock!’

  Jael had one eye on the dragur leader as he battered every Islander who came at him, knocking them flying, not caring whether he’d killed them. She could tell that he was only trying to get to her.

  And Jael didn’t know what to do.

  She had never backed away from a fight, but she was struggling to even lift her sword. She was out of shape. Out of practice. Barely out of bed.

  Trying to think, Jael slipped out of her line and ran for the nearest catapult. ‘I need a jar!’ she cried to the loader. ‘One jar!’

  ‘If you can’t kill her, get past her!’ Draguta boomed, horrified by the great burning mess in her seeing circle. ‘I want that book!’

  She had returned to her cottage quickly, feeling the pull of the dragur attack, but her excitement had been swiftly tempered by the fiery scene before her. Thankfully, there were some she could rely on.

  Her eyes followed Darius. He had been her son’s champion once; a blood-thirsty, giant-sized leader of the highest calibre. And now he would need to lead his creatures to victory.

  She would settle for nothing else.

  ‘Get me that book!’

  ‘Aron!’ Aedan saw his brother sprawled on the ground, Kormac standing over his body, five dragur circling them.

  ‘Go!’ Kormac shouted, his eyes quickly finding Aedan, whose terrified face was pale despite the heat from his flaming torch. ‘Get them out of here! Now, Aedan! Back to the fort! Hurry!’

  But Aedan’s boots didn’t move. He swallowed, ideas jumping around his head, trying to find a way out for all of them.

  ‘Aedan, go!’ his father yelled hoarsely, sensing his hesitation, not taking his eyes off the dragur. ‘You need to save Edela! You must! Get them all back to the fort now!’

  Aedan blinked at his father who was holding off the dragur with his burning torch as their circle around him grew tighter, glancing at his motionless brother. He felt Edela’s cold hand on his, and turning away, he pulled her towards the fort.

  Jael could see Beorn, Thorgils, Torstan and Klaufi. Even Hassi was there. All of them lined up across the broken wall, fighting to repel those dragur who had escaped the flames unharmed.

  Fyn was at the back with his bow. He still wasn’t much use, but Jael hoped that she was.

  She had to be.

  The immense strength of the dragur was pushing the Islanders steadily backwards, towards the ditch. The repairs to the wall were so minimal that a child could have clambered over it without much effort, and though the ditch was deep, it would likely not stop them for long.

  Stepping further away from the fort, back towards the valley of burning dragur and swinging catapults, Jael sought out their leader, trying to draw him away. ‘Over here!’ she cried, wondering what she was even thinking. ‘Over here!’

  Darius jerked around, throwing Torstan away, back into the line of Islanders, scattering some as he crashed to the ground.

  Out of shape, out of practice, Jael reminded herself as the giant dragur barrelled towards her, his rusted sword scything the air. Inhaling slowly, she tried to ignore her taunting thoughts, watching as the giant, blue beast jerked closer and closer; counting in her head, aware that more dragur were swarming on either side of him now, joining their leader’s charge.

  And then she brought the jar of sea-fire out from behind her back.

  ‘No!’ Draguta roared, slamming her fists down on either side of the circle. ‘No! You fool! No! Run!’

  Jael had no strength in her arms, so she’d left it later than was comfortable, but her aim was still deadly, and when the jar hit Darius it cracked open on his skull, oozing black sea-fire liquid all over his blue face, dripping down onto his chest.

  The dragur on either side of their leader stumbled to a stop, trying to turn and run.

  Jael did run. ‘Fyn!’ she shouted. ‘Now!’

  Three heartbeats later, and with Jael running away as fast as her weary legs would carry her, the fire arrow landed in Darius’ shoulder. His head snapped to the wall where Fyn stood, bow in hand, relief all over his face.

  Grabbing the arrow, Darius ripped it out of his shoulder, promptly bursting into flames.

  Jael threw herself to the ground as the explosion rippled through the air, ringing her ears, sending sparks flying, scattering the dragur away from the wall.

  Scrambling to her feet, Jael shook her head. She couldn’t hear a thing, but she could feel the intense waves of heat from the flames as the burning bits of the dragur leader scattered across the night sky.

  Edela felt the panic pulsing down Aedan’s arm, into the hand that was holding hers. She could feel his burning desire to turn around and go back, but Edela knew that it was too late. There was nothing he could do to help Kormac now.

  Aedan was hurrying them around the eastern side of the fort, towards the harbour gates, knowing that somebody would be looking down from the ramparts; hoping that no creatures had crept around to the harbour to cut off their path. But just as he thought it, two dragur ran around the corner. Spotting Aedan and the women, they charged down the muddy track towards them. Aedan quickly handed a crying Edela to a blinking Biddy. ‘Stay back! Keep your eyes open!’

  The dragur ran at him, one hefting its rusted sword, the other clenching its blue fists. Aedan ran to meet them, shoving his burning torch forward, trying to stick it through the swordless dragur’s eye socket.

  The dragur may have had no sword, but its arm had the strength of a hammer. It jerked to the side, punching Aedan’s ribs which had been left exposed by his thrust.

  Aedan screamed, certain he’d felt something snap. Stumbling, he brought his torch around, keeping both dragur back; watching as they jumped away from the flames.

  ‘Help!’ Biddy cried suddenly. ‘Help!’ She had seen someone up on the wall. ‘Down here! Help!’

  Aedan couldn’t look around to see what was happening. The dragur were working as a team, circling him now, knowing that one of them could put him down. The one with the sword crept up behind Aedan as he spun, trying to keep them in view, gasping every time he moved the torch, feeling the pain in his ribs, struggling to breathe.

  ‘Down!’ came the call from the wall. ‘Get down!’

  And recognising that voice, Aedan threw himself to the ground with a scream as the archers shot flaming arrows at the dragur.

  The valley was exploding, showering sparks across the night sk
y like golden stars. The thunder and lightning had retreated, leaving the sea-fire to devastate the dragur trapped in the mouth of the catapults. Smoke belched from the fiery carnage like a blacksmith pumping his bellows, clouding everything in a thick, grey, eye-watering shadow, making it hard to see.

  Incursions were happening everywhere now.

  Jael could hear the clashing of swords, the screams from the walls as Gant and his men on the ramparts fired flaming arrows, sending the dragur running, back into the fiery valley.

  The Islanders were still holding the wall, though.

  No dragur had gotten through.

  Jael glanced at Thorgils who was hauling air into his barrel-like chest, his face screwed up in pain. She must have looked the same, she thought, stepping out of the line to jab Toothpick at the nearest attacker. Fyn was beside her now, stabbing a burning torch at a dragur who could see no way through. The creature spun around, looking for other options but Ivaar ran forward and chopped into its neck. With an ear-piercing shriek, the dragur turned, reaching for Ivaar, its head flopping to one side now, still attached to its rotting neck.

  ‘Not as easy as it looks,’ Thorgils panted as the creature lunged for Ivaar’s throat. Ivaar stumbled away, and Thorgils strode up behind the dragur, giving the nearly severed head a quick chop; watching as it dropped to the ground, its twitching body collapsing after it.

  ‘Thorgils!’ Ivaar yelled as a dragur rushed up behind Thorgils, fists raised.

  Thorgils turned just in time, ducking as the dragur flew over him, landing on the ground, Ivaar quickly on top of him, his sword at its neck.

  The catapults had stopped firing jars.

  Aleksander knew what that meant, but he also knew that they’d burned a vast amount of the dragur, somehow making them smell even worse. He gagged, fighting his way through a tangled mess of the creatures who were pushing, almost crawling over each other to get past his men, lashing out with fists and swords. And from urgent glances to each side, Aleksander could see that their line was starting to break. It hadn’t been much of a line, he knew, but in the flashes of flames and lightning, he was beginning to see some real holes emerge. ‘Hold the line!’ he cried desperately, the pressure from the dragur intensifying as they tried to crash and thump their way through.

  More escapees had joined their blue-faced friends now, and they were barging forward, adding their massive bulk to the press to escape.

  Aleksander swallowed, wishing he could hear that voice again.

  Wondering where Dara Teros was.

  Having seen Edela, Biddy, and Eydis safely into the fort, Aedan immediately turned to leave before they closed the harbour gates.

  Edela placed a shaking hand on his back, tears in her eyes. ‘No. No. There’s no need. Not now. Come with us instead. We need to get to my cottage. It’s so dark. We need you.’

  Aedan’s mouth hung open as he let the gates shut before him. His head was a jumble of noise and panic and mostly fog. He couldn’t feel anything but the demanding pain in his broken ribs.

  ‘Quickly!’ Edela urged, coughing as she turned to Biddy and Eydis; the smoke descending on the fort like a suffocating blanket now. ‘Back to my cottage as fast as we can! We have work to do!’

  20

  Jael could see the catapults had stopped firing now. Those men were running back to help defend the wall.

  And the gates.

  She turned to Karsten as he fell into her, knocked over by the thumping blow of a singed dragur. ‘Get your men to the main gates!’ she cried, pushing him upright.

  Karsten glowered at her. ‘You need me!’

  ‘I’ve got Axl and Rork coming! Look!’

  And ducking another right hook from the determined dragur, Karsten spun away. Jael was right; in another exploding ball of fire, he could clearly see the Andalans and Alekkans streaming towards them from the valley. Hacking into the dragur’s arm with his right axe, he nodded. ‘I’ll just finish what I started!’ And with one axe still stuck in the dragur’s arm, he brought the other one around, cleaving its sharp blade into the creature’s neck.

  Jael backed away, coughing, trying to see as the bright light from the explosion receded. Along the western wall, it was dark. The crush of bodies was oppressive. The screams and screeches were clanging in her head, and she needed to get a better idea of what was happening.

  She needed to be back up on the ramparts.

  Spinning away from two lunging dragur, Jael left them to Thorgils and Torstan, crawling up the ditch and over the broken wall, running for the tower stairs.

  Aedan stood outside Edela’s cottage, watching the explosions in the distance; the occasional lightning strike, the enormous cloud of smoke edging closer. It was tickling his throat, and he needed water, but he didn’t care. His eyes were full of tears as he stood there, forcing his boots to remain on the porch; listening as the chimes started banging behind him; thinking of Kayla and his mother, but knowing that he had to stay to keep his grandmother safe.

  Inside the dark cottage, Edela tried not to let her guilt and sadness distract her from what she needed to do. ‘More light, Biddy,’ she muttered, her eyes back on the book that she had hastily opened across her lap. ‘Eydis, you try and focus over there. See if you can find which page I need. If what we know about Dara Teros is true, there must be something to help us in here.’ Edela’s voice was as shaky as her hands that were busily turning the pages. She had been so focused on breaking the sickness curse that she had not spent nearly enough time trying to find a way to stop the dragur.

  Something she was quickly regretting.

  Eydis tried to calm herself as she listened to Edela mumbling. Edela was upset about Aron and Kormac, who she knew were dead; frightened about what might happen next.

  So was Eydis.

  The smell, even from this far away, was overpowering and the noise of the battle had her heart racing. Eydis closed her eyes, hoping it would help her disappear inside herself, shutting everything else out. She wanted to hear Dara Teros’ voice in her head again, guiding her to the right page.

  Jael was next to Gant, scanning the valley and the dark hills in the distance. ‘Looks as though Aleksander has things under control back there. Some of the catapult crews have joined him.’ She turned back to look at the square, worrying about Kormac and Aron. Gant had assured her that Aedan had returned Edela, Biddy, and Eydis to the fort, but he’d been alone.

  Turning back around, Jael caught a glimpse of horror on Gant’s face. ‘What?’ And following his gaze and his pointing hand, she saw a fresh wave of dragur surging down Bog’s Hill towards Aleksander and his men who were fighting to keep the escaping creatures in the valley.

  Trapping them.

  ‘Stay here!’ Jael yelled, running for the stairs. ‘You’ve got the wall! Stay here! Do not let them breach!’

  Aleksander turned at the noise. It was a victory yell, a high-pitched squeal of triumph that stopped his heart. Everything slowed around him as he took in the sheer number of dragur coursing down the hill towards them in the glow of the flames.

  Panic momentarily froze his thoughts, but the smoke tickled his throat, and he gagged, waking himself up. ‘Turn!’ he bellowed. ‘Turn!’ Aleksander knew more men were coming off the catapults to support them, and he could only hope they had seen how urgently they were needed.

  ‘Fire!’ he cried hopelessly. ‘We need fire!’

  And the lightning came.

  Draguta felt better. Her smile was back, and it was wide and satisfied.

  ‘Did those fools think a little fire could stop my creatures? A little fire? A little lightning?’ She shook her head, feeling her shoulders straighten as she settled into the chair, enjoying the scene of destruction playing out before her.

  The tide was shifting.

  Jael’s breathing was ragged as she ran around the eastern edge of the burning valley towards Aleksander and his trapped men; through the trees, where she hoped not to find any dragur lurking. She wished she was on
Tig, but Tig was safer in the stables for now. She had left her Islanders at the broken wall, Rork Arnesson’s Alekkans with them, and Karsten’s men at the main gates, and taken Axl and his Andalans, who were now running behind her as fast as their smoke-filled, mail covered bodies would allow.

  Turning around, Jael bellowed at them, seeing her brother struggling to move just as much as she was. They were hardly the rescuers Aleksander needed, but they were his only hope now.

  Lightning exploded across the night sky like golden snakes, and Jael could hear the familiar screeching cries of the dragur as they surged into the valley. ‘Hurry!’ she panted, stumbling on a rock, wincing. ‘Faster! Faster!’

  She had a burning torch in one hand, its flame flickering as she ran into the darkness.

  Eydis felt as though she was walking down a narrow corridor. One side was dark and threatening. She glanced towards it, a shiver streaking down her spine. The other side was light, and she wanted to go that way, but the dark side beckoned, and, taking a deep breath, Eydis turned into the shadows.

  ‘Aarrghh!’ Aleksander had his hands over his head, certain his forearms would snap as the dragur who had knocked him to the ground in the rush down Bog’s Hill clambered over him, smashing their fists into his arms. One of his men cracked a dragur in the back of the head with his axe, knocking it away and Aleksander rolled, staggering to his feet, his sword in one hand.

  His broken sword.

  Gasping for air, he spun trying to find the rest of his men, but he’d rolled away from them, and he had to run, pushing through the dragur to get back to them. ‘Come together!’ he cried, pulling his boot out of a boggy hole. ‘We need to keep them back!’ But his voice was lost in a loud roar as more dragur emerged at the top of the hill, thundering down the slope towards them.