by A. E. Rayne
‘Good. And hopefully, it stays that way. We need to get to Rissna before our neighbours start getting nervous. If we’re not there tomorrow, they might pack up and head home.’
‘If your cousin has anything to do with it, I’m sure they will. Getta won’t be happy, and she won’t be quiet about it.’
‘You think she’ll be there?’
Gant nodded. ‘I do. I know your cousin far better than I’d choose to, and she’s not going to let Raymon have his way about anything. Not if there’s something she can do to stop him. Like I keep saying, you’re going to have your work cut out for you.’
Jael grinned, not caring one bit about Getta. Her mind had already floated away to thoughts of being reunited with Eadmund. She needed the Iskavallan army to attack Hest. And she needed to attack Hest to save Eadmund, and what Getta thought about anything was completely irrelevant, as her cousin would soon find out.
The Vandaals were surprised to find that they were the first to arrive in the small settlement of Rissna. A messenger turned up just after they did, with a note to say that the Brekkans had encountered a delay.
Getta flew into a rage, furious with the insult. ‘We should leave!’ she demanded, clutching her son to her chest. ‘My cousins do not even have the decency to be here on time! They have humiliated you! What will everyone think?’
Raymon couldn’t get a word in to tell her that he didn’t care what anyone thought.
Getta lowered her voice, conscious of the silence; convinced that people were outside their large, luxuriously furnished tent, listening. She had not wanted to stay in the hall. It looked no better than the charred shell of an old ship – not big or comfortable enough for the needs of the King and Queen of Iskavall – so she had waited in the drizzle while her servants hastily erected the tent they had slept in on their journey. ‘They will think you’re a fool, is what they’ll think. A toy! Something to play with. Until they’ve had their fun, that is, and then they will simply kill you!’ Getta felt sick, sharp pains shooting through her chest as her baby son whimpered against it. ‘I do not want anything to happen to you, Raymon. What will become of us if you’re murdered? Be it by my cousins or one of your own men who think you too weak to be their king.’
Raymon was caught between wanting to yell at his wife and needing to comfort her. She was changing her mood faster than he could blink, and he didn’t know what to respond to first. ‘Getta,’ he sighed. ‘You must try to calm down. Lothar doesn’t like it when you get upset.’
Getta was too angry to care.
‘I am not a toy or a child. We have come to meet with your cousins, so I will hear them out when they arrive and make my decision then,’ Raymon said, trying to sound more in control than he felt when he looked at his wife’s irate face. ‘But it will be my decision. They will not make me do anything that isn’t in the interests of Iskavall. Iskavall will come first. I will not sacrifice our kingdom for anyone’s ambition.’
Getta took a deep breath, pleased to hear it. ‘What you choose to do will speak volumes to your men about your strength. You may give them arm-rings and praise their feats of bravery, but that is just ceremony. Just words. It doesn’t inspire true loyalty. They only care about what they see their king do. How their king acts. And you must act as a true king. One who will not be pushed around by Brekka. A king they want to follow. Not one they just want to kill.’
Raymon nodded slowly, realising that for all her wild fury, Getta might actually be right.
Neither of them wanted to return to the castle, but Evaine was more inclined to face Jaeger than she was a night in her father’s shack, squeezed into that tiny bed with Eadmund. She wanted to be alone with him, so, leaving Rollo in the tavern, blissfully happy in the company of three, half-naked, equally drunk women, and dropping Morac off at his cottage, Eadmund and Evaine returned to the castle.
Eadmund wasn’t happy about it.
‘We can find somewhere tomorrow,’ Evaine insisted, listening to his grumbles as they walked towards the stairs. ‘But for tonight, let’s forget about Jaeger. I just want to be with you.’ She rested her head against Eadmund’s chest, feeling the strength of his arm wrapped around her as they walked. It felt like a shield, protecting her against all those who meant her harm.
‘Eadmund!’
Evaine sighed, not wanting to turn around, but Eadmund was already moving towards the hall, pulling her with him.
‘Where have you been all evening?’ Draguta grumbled. ‘I had thought we would be eating together. Celebrating our return.’ She inhaled, wrinkling her nose. ‘You smell as though you’ve crawled out of a barrel of ale. Hardly what I would expect from a king. You are not one of the common folk like that great beast, Rollo. Let him go where he belongs. You belong in the castle, with me. Where I can keep an eye on you. Ensure that you are doing everything I require.’
Jaeger, who was sitting next to Draguta at the high table, frowned.
So did Evaine.
‘Now, come, come. Come and sit down, and we shall toast to our new beginning. All of us. All of us have a second chance, don’t we, now that I have forgiven you all.’ Draguta smiled, looking from Evaine to Jaeger to Eadmund, ignoring the snarl curling Jaeger’s lips and the cold fury in Eadmund’s bleary eyes. ‘We all have a chance to make our dreams come true. I’m sure I’m not the only one with dreams, am I? Evaine? Jaeger? And we shall only realise them if we decide what we are fighting for. Who we are fighting. And let me be very clear. It is not each other. We will only defeat our enemies by using our strengths, not by undermining each other. We must be united, for the threat coming our way will be great. Greater than you can imagine.’
Three faces turned to her in confusion, but Draguta ignored them, lifting her goblet. ‘To new beginnings!’
Jael woke up with a mouthful of water. She spluttered, rolling to the side as Aleksander loomed over her, dripping.
‘Come on, we’ve got the tents up!’ he called over the thunderous downpour, offering her a hand. ‘Let’s go!’
Jael was surprised that she’d fallen asleep. She remembered sitting down, her back against the tree, just wanting to rest for a moment before helping with the tents. But now it was so dark, and the rain was thundering down, and she was wet through and shaking. So, blinking to try and see, she followed Aleksander towards the nearest tent.
Bending her head, Jael hurried inside, sitting down next to Karsten and Axl who looked just as wet as she felt. The rain fell in sheets across the front of the tent as more men hurried inside. Yawning, she watched as Aleksander joined them, followed by Gant and Torstan.
Thorgils shook his hair all over them and sat down with a thump. ‘Got anything to eat?’ he asked with a grin.
Jael squinted at him with one eye, the other one deciding to stay asleep. She looked around the tent, but there was no bed. There was barely any room to lie down, but there was Aleksander’s shoulder, and, with another yawn, she leaned towards him, pleased when he edged closer so she could rest her head on him.
And closing her eyes, she tried to find Eadmund and Oss. It felt so long since they had been there, together, happy, that Jael was beginning to wonder if it had all been a dream...
27
Biddy ran to grab Ido as he charged out of the cottage, down the path, barking at a cat that was languidly walking down the road. Edela had fallen asleep in her chair and looked to be having a good dream. Biddy hadn’t wanted to wake her.
But Ido had.
When Biddy returned with the guilty looking culprit under her arm, Edela was yawning herself awake.
‘Sorry about that,’ Biddy said. ‘I thought it would be nice with the door open for a while. Good to air out the place a bit. If only Ido didn’t think that every cat or chicken was coming to attack us.’
Edela laughed hoarsely as Biddy hurried to check on the water she’d left boiling in the cauldron, preparing to make some tea. ‘Well, who knows, perhaps Draguta will turn all the animals against us? The way Morana Galla
s did with those ravens?’ Speaking of ravens reminded her of Jael, and Edela was suddenly overcome with sadness, wondering once again what to do about Amma, who she knew was most certainly pregnant.
‘Well, that’s a thought that will keep me awake tonight,’ Biddy snorted. ‘And not a pleasant one, thank you. I shall no doubt dream about being pecked to death by chickens!’
‘No more than you deserve, Biddy Halvor, having wrung a good many of their poor necks in your lifetime,’ Edela grinned.
Biddy ignored her, looking through her bottles of herbs. ‘How about lemon balm? I have a bit of lavender I can throw in there too. Might help us both calm down a bit.’
‘I think I need to,’ Edela said, ‘after the dream I’ve just had.’
Biddy was curious. ‘What did you dream about, then?’
‘I think we might need Marcus to help make sense of it. Let’s have our tea first, then we can go and find him. I’ll tell you all about it then.’
Biddy didn’t appear impressed by having to wait so long, but Edela felt so unsettled by what she had seen that she needed a moment to digest it all.
For she had seen Draguta Teros stabbed to death, then get up and walk away.
It would have been rude to simply rush into the hall and stick her hands near the flames, but Jael felt tempted to as she stood next to her brother, jiggling her legs as Reinhard Belleg, the Lord of Rissna, greeted them formally, eager for the king and queen to meet his entire family which had expanded since their last visit.
He had a lot of children – three girls and five boys – and none of them seemed to be enjoying standing out in the rain either. Eventually, Jael sneezed, and Reinhard quickly realised that the king and queen were wet through and his grizzled face reddened like an apple. ‘Come inside! Come inside! Your guests are in there, waiting. Or, at least, some of them are. My old hall’s not large enough to fit you all, I’m afraid. The Vandaals have chosen to stay in their own tents. You could do the same, of course, but if not, I have accommodation ready for you. Fresh linens and furs. Servants too.’
Jael wished that Reinhard would move his feet as he talked. It was still raining, and she had been wet and cold for two long, arse-numbing days. Finally, Jael gave up waiting for him to finish and marched past him towards the open doors of the hall.
Axl looked after his sister, then turned to Reinhard. ‘After you,’ he said, just as eager to get out of the rain.
‘You certainly chose the wrong time to travel, my lord,’ Reinhard smiled as he walked alongside his king. He was a big man who looked awkward in his new green tunic. A thick nest of curly, grey hair jiggled on top of his head, and a bushy grey-and-white beard covered much of his face. He tugged on it nervously as he headed into the hall. ‘We were beginning to wonder where the next rain would come from. The crops were looking thirsty indeed. Now, after two days of this, they’re swimming.’ He stammered to a stop seeing Jael and Ravenna Vandaal standing awkwardly before one another in front of the fire. Neither of them had a drink, nor a seat. Glancing at his weary-looking wife, Reinhard inclined his head towards the two women, his eyes bulging in panic.
‘Jael,’ Ravenna smiled, unaware of the fuss. ‘It has been many years since I last saw you. You are quite different, I think.’
‘It hasn’t been that long, has it?’ Jael wondered, one eye on the fire Ravenna was blocking. ‘I don’t think I’ve changed much over the years, have I, Axl?’ she asked her brother as he joined them. Aleksander and Gant were outside sorting out the horses and accommodation with Thorgils.
In the rain.
Axl was quickly uncomfortable. He didn’t feel much like a king yet, but he didn’t want to sound like Jael’s little brother either. It was a winding path he was navigating in his mind. Eventually, he just smiled. ‘I think you are. A little. Being a queen would do that, wouldn’t you agree, my lady?’ He bowed to Ravenna, who simply stared at him, amazed by how much he looked like his father.
‘I would, and please, call me Ravenna,’ she said. ‘I do think that becoming a queen or a king changes you. It makes you more aware of yourself. And others. Though that is not true of everyone who ascends to a throne.’
They all knew who she was talking about, though none of them mentioned Lothar by name.
The hall was bright. Reinhard had brought out his expensive beeswax candles, seeing how dull the day was, and their flames danced in sconces around the walls, flooding them with a golden warmth; infusing the smoky corners of the hall with a sweet aroma. Jael eased herself around Ravenna, held her hands to the flames and sighed, not caring for a moment that her trousers were stuck to her legs, or that her hair was trailing down her face, dripping over her mail. She thought about Tig, hoping that Fyn was giving him a good rub down and a carrot.
Ravenna tensed suddenly, and Jael and Axl turned to see the tiny figure of their cousin Getta enter the hall, followed by her tall husband, who appeared as nervous as his wife looked angry. Jael glanced back at Ravenna, noting the displeasure on her face as she studied her daughter-in-law. Turning back, Jael could see the fire bloom in Getta’s eyes as she strode towards them, her blue dress swishing angrily around her legs.
Raymon hurried to get in front of her, and he was the first to reach Axl. ‘My lord,’ he said quickly, attempting a smile.
Axl smiled back, nodding at Getta. ‘Cousin. I hear congratulations are in order on the birth of your son.’
Jael could sense Reinhard hovering behind them all, wondering when it would be the right moment to usher them to the tables. Meat was roasting – she could smell it – and for the first time in days, Jael was in agreement with her growling stomach. She was actually hungry.
‘Congratulations?’ Getta spat. ‘And should I offer you congratulations on your ascension to the throne, Cousin? You who murdered my father? My brother?’ Her voice was shrill, and the hall hushed quickly.
Raymon swallowed. Getta had certainly not been shy about her feelings, but he had thought she might have allowed herself a breath or two before unleashing her long-planned tirade.
Jael eyed the tray of perch and mussels that passed her, followed by an enormous platter of what looked like roast boar. For some reason, it reminded her of Eirik and Oss, and she felt an overwhelming need to go home. This was not home, she thought to herself. Her attention snapped back to her cousin who had sucked all the air out of the hall, and any words from Axl’s mouth it seemed, as he opened and closed it without saying anything in response.
‘Your father was a loathsome rapist, and your brother was a useless weed. They stole the throne from Axl when he had been made heir by my father, and then proceeded to destroy our kingdom. And now they’re both dead, so what do you plan to do about that, Getta?’ Jael leaned over her tiny cousin, her wet braids dripping on the floor reeds.
It was Getta’s turn to be lost for words. Her eyes flared as she gripped Raymon’s arm, squeezing it tightly, demanding he act.
Raymon opened his mouth, but Jael held up her hand.
‘We’ve had a long, wet ride. We need to see to our men and our horses before we can sit down and enjoy a pleasant meal with all of you, so why not hold that thought until we return.’ She eyed her spluttering cousin. ‘That should give you enough time to think up something else to say, Getta. Perhaps you could find a reason why Lothar and Osbert should have lived? Though I imagine you’d still be hard-pressed to answer that come tomorrow.’ And smiling at Ravenna, and nodding at an open-mouthed Reinhard, she grabbed Axl’s arm and almost dragged him out of the hall.
Ravenna bit her lip, trying not to laugh.
Her eyes were full of humour, though, and it did not go unnoticed by a furious Getta. ‘You see?’ she hissed at Raymon as the Furycks closed the doors behind them. ‘You see how they mock me? How casually they speak of murder? Who will they decide to kill next? You?’ She was seething, still staring at the closed doors, trembling with rage.
Raymon was just as surprised. He blinked at his mother who had finally gotten her
face under control.
‘Let us sit down,’ Ravenna said calmly. ‘I’m very much looking forward to trying your mead, Reinhard,’ she smiled. ‘It smells delicious.’
Reinhard was relieved to change the subject, and he rushed to show the Vandaals to the high table as some of the Iskavallan lords made their way inside, shaking the rain from their cloaks.
Getta’s boots remained stuck to the floorboards, though, as Raymon put an arm around her back, trying to move her gently towards the table, not knowing what was going to happen next.
Bram was gripped by an unfamiliar sense of panic as he sat at the high table finishing a cup of ale. He was a calm man, but his body had been jolted by the dragon and his head was reeling from the news about Fyn.
And now he was in charge of a sprawling fort. Or, at least, its garrison.
He wondered what Jael had been thinking.
Scratching his beard, he tried to think as Gisila muttered next to him. ‘The hole in the wall needs to be filled in quickly. Can you not have more men working on it?’
Bram looked up. ‘I could, but more men will get in each other’s way. We want a solid, well-built wall. It must hold. From what I understand, the stonemasons have it in hand. They do not require more help, just more time.’
Gisila was fretting, her mind overflowing with worries. ‘And what about the walls? The dragur climbed them! What are you doing about that?’ Leaning forward she cut a slice of smoked cheese with her knife, glancing at her sister who had walked into the hall with Aedan and Kayla.
She looked terrible.
‘I have men in the forest, cutting trees. They’ve been in there since yesterday. We’ll be making more stakes. Knocking them into the ground all around the walls. Digging the ditch deeper and wider. I’ve sent more braziers up to the ramparts too. Burning day and night. We’ll keep the fires going.’