The Raven's Warning

by A. E. Rayne

  Amma looked up at him. ‘Only if Draguta doesn’t send any more creatures.’ She swallowed, feeling guilty for worrying him. ‘Though Edela has the book now. And Ayla is getting better. I’m sure we’ll be fine.’

  Axl didn’t look convinced, but he could hear his sister barking orders behind him, and he knew that they didn’t have long. ‘We’ll be back after we speak to the Vandaals. To get the sea-fire. Prepare for Hest. It won’t take long. I’ll see you soon.’

  Amma nodded, not wanting to worry Axl further. ‘I hope... I hope Getta hasn’t caused problems for you. I doubt she’ll be happy to see you. And I do remember how Raymon was around her. Like a loyal dog, so eager to please.’

  ‘Well, he’ll have Jael to contend with, and she’s more like a charging boar, so I imagine we’ll be fine,’ Axl grinned, sensing his sister’s eyes on him. ‘Come on, walk me over to say goodbye to Edela.’ And he put an arm around Amma’s shoulder, still worried that something was wrong.

  Hoping that he was wrong.

  ‘Your best chance is with Ravenna,’ Gisila said quietly to Jael. ‘She’s an influential woman. There was much noise about a revolt when her husband was murdered. About the Maas’ taking the throne. I heard that Ravenna is the one who ensured Raymon followed his father as king.’ Gisila frowned, wishing that she’d been able to do the same for her own son.

  But then she smiled as Axl approached with Amma.

  He was the king now. And a man. And one day soon he would grow as confident as his father had been. If there was time.

  Jael looked from her mother to Axl and smiled. ‘Ready for a nice, long ride?’

  Axl nodded. He was, though in the back of his mind, he kept thinking about the dragon, and the serpent, and the dragur. And whatever creature Draguta planned to send next.

  He prayed to Furia that she would wait until they returned.

  Rollo was impressed. ‘Well, I can see why you’ve been moaning about your cottage in Flane. That’s a fine palace you have there.’

  Draguta ignored him as she stared at the castle. She felt at peace, as though every sinew in her body had suddenly sighed.

  Home.

  Evaine’s horse was scuffing the dirt beside Draguta, eager to get moving again. They had stopped to admire the view, high up on the peak, the Adrano to the west, the castle looming ahead of them, and Evaine suddenly wanted to turn to Eadmund and run in the opposite direction, far away from Jaeger Dragos and the memories of what he had done to her.

  She blinked, feeling Draguta’s hand on her arm.

  ‘This is a new beginning,’ Draguta purred, staring at her. ‘For all of us. For you and Jaeger too. You will not recognise him, I promise. No longer will he be that fearsome bear. Think of him now as a little lamb. Completely harmless and so eager to please me. You wait. You have nothing to worry about at all.’ And nudging her horse forward, Draguta watched the dark clouds in the distance gathering above the castle, promising a downpour soon. ‘Come along!’ she called, not bothering to turn around. ‘We’re nearly there!’

  Evaine waited for Eadmund, and he smiled at her as he eased his horse ahead of hers. ‘I could do with a bath. And a bed!’

  She smiled back, thinking of seeing her father and Morana; wondering suddenly what Draguta would do to them.

  Wondering at the wisdom of helping her return to Hest.

  Jaeger felt a sense of anticipation building as he sat on the throne. His head was a blur of half-finished ideas and words, and he found himself unable to carry his thoughts to a conclusion, but he could feel a growing sense of purpose; as though he finally knew which path to take. And at the end of the path, he could see Draguta waiting for him. The book called to him too, but when he thought of it now, he was reminded of how it belonged to Draguta.

  Jaeger shook his head, wanting to argue against himself, but that singular thought always returned to defeat any he might have entertained of owning the book himself.

  Draguta was its mistress. Those words rolled around his mind like a cart clattering across the cobblestones.

  Draguta was his mistress too.

  ‘Meena!’ He sat up, pleased to see her rushing past the entrance to the hall. ‘Where are you going?’

  Meena froze, not wanting to stop. ‘I’m going to see Dragmall! I thought he might come and see Morana again.’

  Jaeger frowned, motioning her into the hall. ‘Why? Why do you care about that miserable, old bitch? After the way she treated you? Why do you care whether she lives or dies?’

  It was a good question.

  ‘I... she is my family,’ Meena tried, dragging her feet into the hall, wondering if that was an excuse he would believe; certain she didn’t believe it herself. ‘Without Varna, I feel... alone.’

  Jaeger blinked, trying to keep his train of thought going. ‘What about me?’

  Meena scratched her head, wanting to extract herself from his company quickly. ‘You’re not my family. Soon you’ll find someone new. Perhaps your wife? I don’t imagine you’ll keep me around for long.’

  Jaeger shook his head. ‘My wife?’ He hadn’t thought about Amma in some time. ‘When I find her, I won’t be keeping her, I promise. Just long enough for her to watch me kill Axl Furyck. You don’t need to be jealous of her.’

  He reached out and gripped Meena’s hands so tightly that she squeaked.

  ‘We’re together for a reason, and that reason is better than any blood ties you may have to a woman who treated you like a slave. Just like Varna did. They never cared for you, so why care about them? Why worry about Morana now? Draguta will be here soon. We don’t need Morana anymore.’ And he let go of Meena’s hands, returning his to the armrests.

  How smooth they were. Like skin. Polished by the kings before him who had rubbed their palms over them. Over and over again. Scheming and plotting. Worrying and grieving. Planning. Always planning to make Hest the largest, richest, most powerful kingdom in Osterland. It was all he could see when he looked at Meena.

  The hope of things to come.

  And the unshakeable certainty he now felt that Draguta would help him with all of it.

  Aleksander knelt by Hanna’s bed. Marcus had stepped outside the tent to talk to Entorp, though Aleksander had the sense that he was trying to give them some privacy.

  But Hanna had still not opened her eyes.

  They all spoke as if she would recover.

  But Hanna would not open her eyes.

  ‘I’m leaving,’ Aleksander mumbled, looking to see any sign of life. Her face was gaunt and sallow. Her eyes were closed, and her mouth was open, occasionally sucking in a ragged breath. ‘We’re leaving for Rissna. It’s on the border with Iskavall. A small village. We’re meeting the Vandaals there. Apparently, Jael is going to convince them to fight with us.’ He smiled. ‘She’s a determined woman, but still, I’ve a feeling it won’t be as easy as all that.’ He paused, listening to some shouting outside, the loud whinnying of an impatient horse too, but it quickly died down.

  He didn’t have long, though.

  ‘I’ll be back soon,’ Aleksander said, his voice just a whisper. He didn’t want to disturb Hanna, though he doubted she was listening. ‘I... we’re going to get the Book of Darkness. When we have enough men. We’re going to get it. Destroy it. Somehow...’

  He stopped, hearing Jael bellow his name.

  ‘I have to go.’ Aleksander placed his hand on Hanna’s, lightly, not wanting to hurt her. ‘Your father will be back shortly. He’s just outside.’ And lifting his hand, he stood, readjusting his scabbard, resettling his mail shirt, still staring at her face. ‘I’ll come and see you when I return,’ he said sadly, and turning, he headed out of the tent, not looking back.

  Hanna drew in a long breath, her lungs straining.

  And opened her eyes.

  ‘No more kissing,’ Jael grumbled. ‘We have to go, though who knows where Aleksander is. It’s like trying to round up sheep!’ And spinning around she came face to face with Karsten’s piercing, b
lue eye.

  ‘What are we waiting for?’ he snapped impatiently, motioning towards the columns of jiggling men; the skittering, impatient horses skipping out of line. ‘It’s only getting warmer.’ They were in full armour, sweat already beading along furrowed, smoky brows.

  ‘We’re waiting for Thorgils to finish kissing,’ Jael snapped back. ‘So why don’t you go and wait on your horse so he can get on with it.’

  Karsten glared at Jael, readjusting his eyepatch, but he shut his mouth and turned back to his men, passing Berard who was standing with Bayla, feeling guilty that he wasn’t going with his brother. But two days on horseback would be too much, they’d decided. Berard needed some time to master riding with one arm. And he would. Nothing was going to stop him going back to Hest to see Karsten kill Jaeger. To get Meena back.

  He blinked, aware that his mother was talking to him; aware that Eron was trying to run after his father. Berard hurried after the little boy who was sobbing, not wanting Karsten to go.

  Jael watched the Dragos’, then sighed in relief at the welcome appearance of Aleksander. ‘Finally! Now we can leave!’

  ‘I could have caught you up,’ he grinned, all thoughts of Hanna shut away now. Or so he told himself. ‘You needn’t wait on me.’

  ‘You think I’d leave without you? I’d happily leave without Thorgils, but you? I need you.’ And listening to Thorgils puffing and snorting beside her as he finally dragged himself out of Isaura’s arms and away from her lips, Jael turned and walked towards the horses, where she could see Edela and Eydis waiting to say goodbye. ‘I hope you’ll be busy while we’re gone, reading that book, day and night,’ Jael said to her grandmother, giving her a quick hug. ‘No sleep for you.’

  ‘I think you may be right, but I’ve always got Eydis to rely on if I miss something. She’s turning into a very good dreamer, aren’t you?’

  Eydis went bright red, surprised by the compliment; surprised too when Jael hugged her next. ‘You won’t be long, will you?’ she asked.

  ‘No, we won’t be long. You’ll both be too busy reading that book, and organising all the sea-fire to even know I’ve gone!’

  Edela smiled, taking Eydis’ hand. ‘We’ll try, but do be careful. Those Iskavallans are a murderous bunch. And who knows what Getta’s been whispering in their ears. Nothing that will help you and Axl, I’m sure.’

  Jael stuck her boot into Tig’s stirrup, trying to decide if she would rather fall down on the dirt or head for bed. Instead, she hoisted herself into the saddle, adjusting her scabbard before leaning over to give Tig a quick pat. ‘Well, off we go again,’ she said, smiling at Edela, and at Biddy who had come to join her. Amma too. ‘Take care of yourselves!’ And motioning for Gant to blow his horn, she eased Tig towards the main gates, listening to the clanking of helmets and shields hanging from saddles and on mail-clad backs; the exuberant whinnying of horses excited to finally get moving.

  The sound of her heart thudding in her ears, wondering what was coming next.

  Raymon was pleased that Getta had come along.

  Ravenna was not.

  She could see her daughter-in-law up ahead, her eyes wide with interest as she rode alongside Raymon, constantly turning to smile and laugh at her husband. He looked more besotted than ever, barely able to keep his eyes on the road. And though Ravenna did not wish to have an unhappy son trapped in an unhappy marriage, she knew that what Getta was trying to do would put them all in danger.

  If she succeeded.

  Aldo Maas rode up beside Ravenna. He was a lord; an old man now but with a roaming eye that always made her feel uncomfortable. He had never had any respect for her or her husband, and even now she could feel him looking her over as though he was inspecting a broodmare. ‘You do not look happy, my lady. Are you not enjoying the journey?’ Handsome in his youth, Aldo been disfigured by a bear he’d been hunting. Two thick scars ran down from his forehead, through his right eye, trailing down to his lips. For some reason, he chose not to wear an eyepatch, so they were all forced to look at the puckered pink hole that had once been his right eye.

  Perhaps he thought it made him look intimidating?

  Ravenna was not intimidated, but she was wary of the man. When Hugo had been killed, she had fought hard against Aldo and his ambitions for his only son, Garren. And not one day had passed since without her worrying about how safe Raymon was on the throne.

  ‘I do not mind the riding,’ Ravenna said coldly, her eyes on Raymon who rode ahead of her. She could sense that the road was narrowing, and she gathered in the reins, hoping to move ahead of Aldo. ‘But I am not enjoying the rain.’

  It had not stopped raining since they’d left Ollsvik; a constant, cold drizzle. Never getting worse, but never showing any signs of relenting either. They were all sodden and quiet; weighed down by the discomfort of damp clothes sitting under dripping mail. Ravenna could hear the squelching of boots as the army traipsed behind them in columns; the constant groan and clatter of the carts following further back.

  ‘I don’t suppose any of us are, but hot fires await us in Rissna. And the Brekkans. Unless, of course, it’s all a trap? The Furycks may be preparing to murder their next king!’

  Ravenna turned to Aldo with a scowl. ‘I’m not sure why you’d say such a thing? You never appeared to have a problem with Ranuf Furyck. You never thought he was trying to conquer Iskavall, did you? Why are you so suspicious of his children?’

  Aldo dismissed her with a loud snort. ‘Ranuf’s long dead. Irrelevant to what is occurring now, my dear Ravenna. His children are reckless. Not like their father at all. He was a sober man. Respectful of our borders. But those children of his?’ Aldo shook his head; dripping, grey curls flinging water at her. ‘Your boy is walking into a dragon’s lair, so he shouldn’t be surprised if he’s swallowed alive!’ And bobbing his head, he motioned for Ravenna to move her horse ahead of his.

  Ravenna nudged her horse forward, eager to get away from Aldo Maas and the disturbing look in his roaming eye.

  Else could tell that Morana hated her company, for though she could not speak, her dark eye was alert and pulsing with anger as it followed her around the chamber.

  Morac was there. He had arrived early in the hope of seeing his sister returned to herself, but there was still no change, and he looked as miserable as Morana appeared angry. ‘But what are we going to do now?’ Morac sighed. ‘If Draguta is coming, what should I do?’ He scratched his hair, dropping his head into his hands, worrying about Evaine.

  Worrying about himself.

  He thought of Runa often, regretting that he’d allowed his sister to unravel the life he had worked so hard for. It had always been the plan, of course, even when they were children. Their mother would come to them in their dreams and tell them how to manipulate Eirik Skalleson. Morac smiled wistfully, almost missing that time, when it had felt for a moment as though he’d had a mother. As soon as Morana had been able to dream herself, Varna had stopped coming into his dreams.

  He had never seen her again, though he supposed it made no sense to be sad about that. Their purpose, Varna had drummed into them, was greater than family. Greater than love. Their purpose was the greatest of all: to help Raemus return. To help him bring back the Darkness that would set them all free.

  Morac felt far away from that now. Far away from wanting it anymore. When he closed his eyes, he saw his fine house on Oss. He saw Runa in her chair by the fire. He saw Respa laying the table, and Evaine shaking the snow from her white cloak. He remembered going to the hall; Eirik smiling at him as he approached his throne, offering him a cup of ale.

  He saw the home and family he’d once had. And when he opened his eyes, he saw his ruined sister and the dank, dark chamber that was now her prison, and he felt lost.

  Else tried to reassure him. ‘Dragmall will come. He said that he would come this morning. Perhaps he had some thoughts overnight? Something new we can try?’ She handed Morac a cup of peppermint tea. The smell of it was invigoratin
g, she thought, hoping it would lift his mood. ‘This might help.’

  Morac took it, nodding, not noticing the fresh aroma or the warmth of the cup in his hands. ‘I fear it is all too late now. Meena thinks that Draguta will be here soon. Perhaps we should try to leave? We could take horses?’

  Morana’s eye flared in panic.

  Morac wasn’t sure what that meant, but his attention was suddenly diverted to the door as Meena burst into the chamber, panting, her face almost as red as her hair.

  ‘Draguta...’ she gasped, trying to catch her breath. ‘Draguta is here!’

  Binding a hapless soul was easy enough.

  It felt like a sausage. Malleable. She could twist and turn it with ease. Even a child could bind a hapless soul, but a savage beast like Jaeger? One who had been exposed to the book for so long? A Dragos king?

  Draguta stared at Jaeger intently, eager to know if it had worked. And as she watched him walking down the castle steps, she smiled.

  ‘Draguta.’ Jaeger came towards her with confidence, all thoughts of the night in the hall forgotten. He felt elated to see her again, his body fizzing with the need to please her. Striding to her side, he put his hand out, helping her down from her horse.

  The stable hands had rushed into the square, and there was a little step waiting for her to dismount onto. Draguta nodded her approval, sighing contentedly as she stared up at the castle. ‘You will find my champion somewhere to sleep,’ she said, flicking a hand towards Rollo, who dropped to the cobblestones with a thump. ‘I’m sure there are rooms for rent near the brothels.’ And stepping down, she glided towards the castle as Brill struggled down from her own horse, stumbling after her mistress.

  Rollo was relieved to be standing, not liking horses at all. He yawned, stretching out a stiff neck, lifting his tattooed arms above his head.

  Ready for some ale.

  Eadmund helped Evaine down from her horse, noting how uncomfortable she suddenly appeared as Jaeger approached.