The Raven's Warning

by A. E. Rayne

  Axl wasn’t so sure.

  He walked Raymon Vandaal through the small fort which sat on the banks of a wide river, surrounded by pastureland. After all the rain that had fallen in the past few days, the river was flooding its banks, soaking the earth, turning everything into a bog. The two men kept to the wooden boards and stones that paved the way to the paddocks where the Iskavallan horses were being corralled.

  ‘You’re not married, then?’ Raymon asked.

  Axl froze, wondering how to explain his situation. ‘Well... I’m hoping to be soon. I just have to kill my woman’s husband first.’

  ‘Kill him?’ Raymon was glad that Getta wasn’t within earshot.

  Axl laughed. ‘She was forced into the marriage by Lothar, so he could line his pockets and plot himself an escape from Hest. He didn’t care at all that he was marrying his daughter to a monster.’

  ‘You mean Amma?’ Raymon was surprised by that. Getta obviously didn’t know.

  ‘Yes. We saved her from Jaeger Dragos. Brought her back to Andala, but she’s still married to the man, so I have to find a way to end him.’

  ‘And what about him? Does he want her back?’ Raymon was starting to relax. He felt less intimidated by Axl; not worried about Getta for the first time in days.

  Axl shrugged. ‘I don’t know, and I don’t care. He can’t have her. She loves me. And he won’t be alive for long anyway. His brothers are with us. You met Karsten last night. His other brother is back in Andala. Jaeger took off his arm, so he’s learning how to ride and fight with the one he has left. And then he’ll come with us. He wants to kill Jaeger too. Jaeger killed their father.’

  Raymon stopped and turned to Axl. ‘And Jaeger Dragos is with this woman now? Draguta? The one who has the book?’

  Axl nodded. ‘Together they’re powerful, so we have to come up with a way to stop them. All of them. To destroy the book. If we don’t, we’ll always be waiting for the next attack. And, I promise you, having had a dragon land on your fort, there’s little you can do to protect yourself. Not even the gods can really help us now.’

  Raymon ran a hand over his dark chin fluff, trying to think. ‘The idea of joining this fight does not sit well with some of my men. Those who support the Maas’ claim to the throne, at least. I don’t think they ever liked your father. Or mine.’

  ‘Well, now they’re both dead, so it’s up to us to decide what to do, isn’t it? Jael isn’t Brekka’s queen any more than she’s Iskavall’s, but she’s been chosen to lead us by the gods themselves. That’s what the prophecy says. And I for one would choose to follow her anywhere. She knows how to fight. How to outthink the enemy. How to lead. She’s a dreamer too, and if you want to give your son a future and keep your wife by your side, you’ll need to risk upsetting a few ambitious men. Leave them to their whispering and choose to join us, because we will be fighting for all of Osterland.’

  ‘You should rest,’ Runa insisted as she caught up with Bram who was walking faster than a man newly out of bed should be walking. ‘It won’t help anyone if you keel over!’

  Bram turned, readying a grumble, but he saw the concern in her eyes, and he stopped himself, wheezing in a breath. ‘I could do with something to drink,’ he admitted. ‘It’s a warm day. I suppose I could sit down while I drank it.’

  Runa blinked in surprise. She’d certainly been expecting a fight. ‘Well, come on, you sit here, then. I’ll go and find some ale.’

  Now Bram did put up a fight. ‘I don’t need you to wait on me, Runa,’ he insisted. ‘You’re not my servant.’

  ‘No, I’m not,’ Runa agreed with a wink before hurrying away to the hall.

  Bram didn’t have the energy to argue or follow her, so he took a seat at the nearest table, sighing in relief at the pleasure of taking the weight off his aching legs. He felt older than old. He felt half dead.

  Ayla smiled as she joined him. ‘You look as bad as I feel.’

  Bram was happy to see her up and about, though she was right, he thought, she was very pale. ‘The people of Andala should feel in safe hands with us to look after them!’ Bram laughed, gasping at a sudden pain in his chest.

  ‘Well, I hope it doesn’t come to that. I don’t think your crutch is going to be much use to fight off the next creature Draguta sends.’

  ‘Unless it’s elves,’ Bram grinned. ‘I can probably tackle a wee elf or two!’ His smile fell away, his mind quickly turning to how vulnerable they were, waiting for Draguta to decide what to do next.

  ‘You’ve obviously never met an elf, Bram!’ Ayla laughed as Runa came back with a jug of ale and two cups. ‘They can be vicious.’ She saw the worry in his eyes and her own smile faltered.

  Draguta would come again, she knew. Or if not her, then Briggit Halvardar and her Followers. And Ayla was suddenly worried that the Book of Aurea wouldn’t be enough to stop any of them.

  30

  Reinhard had organised entertainment, and though Jael had no patience to stand around and listen to Warunda, the poet, tell his well-loved tales of battles and glory, many of her men crowded around the small stage that had been constructed in the muddy square, while the old man strode from one side to the other, accompanied by two young women; one on a lyre, one on a drum, each adding a dramatic flair to his gravelly voice.

  Jael was barely listening, still going over what Axl had said about his talk with Raymon. Her brother had felt confident that Raymon would help them, assuring her that the nervous, young king had listened carefully, and asked a lot of questions. It was a good sign, Jael supposed, or not, depending on how the winds blew, and how manipulative Getta truly was.

  Jael was agitated as she watched the performance, eager to go for a ride, feeling the need to be alone.

  ‘Got a flea in your trousers?’ Thorgils grinned, walking towards her with Karsten, who looked as bored as Jael.

  ‘Thought you’d be listening to Warunda,’ Jael said. ‘Hoping to hear how Thorgils the Mighty and his famous iron balls slayed the giant serpent single-handedly?’

  ‘Ha!’ Thorgils’ hair jiggled as he laughed. ‘Well, I’ll put that idea in his head over a cup of ale later. I’m just keeping Karsten company as he looked so lonely, not having any friends to hold hands with.’

  Karsten ignored Thorgils and glared at Jael. ‘How long are we going to wait for the boy king to make up his mind? Every moment we stand here scratching our arses is one more moment for Draguta to plan an attack. If she hasn’t already. Andala’s not safe without us, and we’re not safe without proper walls, not like these toothpicks Reinhard has.’

  ‘I doubt we’re safe with walls,’ Jael said. ‘I’m sure Draguta has more dragons to send our way.’

  Karsten couldn’t help but think of Irenna; hoping that the rest of his family would still be there when he returned.

  ‘Raymon sounds as though he’s made his decision, but I’ll confirm it tonight,’ Jael said, just as impatient as Karsten, though she was not about to admit that to him. ‘Then we’ll head back to Andala and prepare.’

  ‘If there’s anything left of it by the time we arrive,’ Karsten grumbled.

  That managed to dampen even Thorgils’ good mood.

  Jael didn’t know what to say.

  Draguta wanted her. And Draguta wanted the Book of Aurea too. But now they were in different places, so which one would she go after first?

  Thorgils had turned away to talk to Torstan who had arrived with Hassi and Torborn.

  Karsten stepped closer to Jael. ‘They don’t like their king.’

  Jael frowned.

  ‘Don’t like him. Don’t trust him. Maybe won’t listen to him either.’

  ‘I know,’ Jael murmured, her eyes darting about. ‘It could become a problem. Stay alert. Keep your men ready. If there’s trouble, we need to be well ahead of it.’

  Karsten was pleased to see that Jael agreed with him.

  He didn’t show it.

  Draguta didn’t turn around when Brill ushered Meena into her cham
ber.

  She was sitting in front of her newly-drawn seeing circle, looking for problems and opportunities. ‘And how is Morana?’ she wondered. ‘Still enjoying the comfort of her prison?’ It was impossible not to feel cheered by the thought of Morana stuck in that chair, staring at the door, day after day with that chirping woman fussing over her. Draguta was sure she’d never come up with a more torturous punishment.

  Meena shrugged. ‘I haven’t seen her.’

  ‘No?’ Draguta spun around. ‘You seemed very concerned with her the other day. Has something changed your mind?’

  ‘I... no... I... Jaeger wanted me to help her but then he changed. And now you’re here.’ Meena’s eyes were everywhere but near Draguta’s face. ‘He is different. He doesn’t want Morana’s help anymore.’

  Draguta stood, smoothing down her white, silk dress, enjoying the luxurious feel of the fabric against her legs. It made her happy. Watching Meena squirm made her happy too. ‘Yes, he is different, isn’t he? And what will you do about that?’ She looked Meena over, peering inside her thoughts. ‘Nothing. Isn’t that right? You will do nothing?’

  Meena nodded eagerly. ‘I won’t say a thing.’

  ‘No, you won’t, or I shall find you a seat next to Morana, and you can keep each other company, though perhaps that would be far too kind to either of you? Perhaps I shall put you in a chair in Jaeger’s chamber? You can watch when he brings his pregnant wife back to his bed.’ Closing her eyes, Draguta inhaled the ripe smell of the frightened woman. ‘Though, I suppose you have no feelings for him anymore, if you ever truly did. It is not that Dragos your heart pounds for, is it?’ She stopped, her head cocked to one side. ‘Ahhh, I see. What a peculiar choice. To choose a pathetic, little cripple over a handsome, powerful king?’ She laughed. ‘Ahhh, the things people feel. Does Berard know it, I wonder? Care for you in return?’ Draguta watched Meena’s hand vibrating against her leg, sensing how hard she was working to keep it by her side. ‘Hmmm... perhaps we shall find out one day soon? He wants to come here. Kill Jaeger. They both do. The one-eyed and one-armed Dragos brothers! Ha! Do you think Jaeger is quaking in his boots? Waking up in a cold sweat every night, fearing their return?’

  Meena tried not to think of anything. Her eyes were on the flagstone just before her boots, and she kept her mind focused on it, trying to think of nothing but stone. A wall of stone, guarding her thoughts.

  Draguta frowned, seeing nothing more. ‘But enough of that. I want you to bring me some herbs and spices. The list is on the table by the door. Find them and hurry back. Do not be long, girl. You will assist me until I find your assistance unhelpful. And if that unfortunate day were to come, I would likely remember how many times it was that you plunged that knife into me.’ She stopped, looking at Meena’s belt, from which her scabbard hung. ‘Ahhh, the very weapon itself. My sister’s knife. And how did you come across that?’ She was curious, suddenly cold all over.

  The night Dara had stabbed her, centuries ago, she had died.

  Draguta had foreseen her own death then, but the circumstances around it had been shrouded in a hazy fog that she had been unable to penetrate, no matter how hard she tried. Perhaps Dara had had something to do with that too?

  And she had been buried in a tomb; brought back to life hundreds of years later by Jaeger’s blood and Morana’s skill.

  But when Meena had stabbed her?

  Brill said that she had woken quickly, though it had felt as if she had slept for years. But she had stood with little effort. Walked away unharmed. Not a wound on her. No scars to indicate that anything had happened.

  It was a puzzle; one that made her itch with curiosity.

  Meena could hear Draguta’s voice inside her head, and she pulled the knife from its scabbard, trying not to think as she turned it around to Draguta. ‘It was in a room, under a chest. I... I found it.’

  Gripping the ivory haft, Draguta immediately stabbed it towards Meena’s stomach. Meena gasped, jerking back in horror as Draguta narrowed her eyes. ‘I can hear you breathe,’ she whispered, leaning closer, the knife’s sharp tip barely a fingernail from Meena’s stomach. ‘I can hear your heart beating, pumping blood all around your shaking body. Do not betray me, girl, or I will show you what it feels like to be killed with this knife. I will show you what it feels like to take your last breath as your blood drains out of you. As the shadows come to devour you whole.’

  Meena swallowed, slowly nodding her head, too terrified to blink.

  Morac showed Evaine around the house, confident that she would grow to like it over time. It was almost a house fit for a king. Not the King of Hest, who preferred to live in a grand castle, but the King of Oss, who appeared content to live in anything that had a bed.

  It was a spacious house with a comfortable main room which led to a separate bedchamber. There was a large kitchen area with a table and a meal fire; another table near a long fire pit with six chairs. The furnishings were old, fusty smelling, draped in cobwebs and sprinkled with dust, but there was a sense of grandeur about the place that Morac thought would appeal to Evaine.

  If only she would look beneath the surface.

  ‘I will need servants! More than one. I cannot cook or clean. I’m going to be a queen. Did you think of that, Father? Of how I would manage this place on my own?’ Evaine grumbled, peering around. The windows were too small for such a large house, and being tucked down an alley, it was hidden in the shadows. Evaine could barely see, but what she did see looked old and unkempt.

  She thought of the castle with some wistfulness.

  But the castle had Jaeger and Draguta in it, so this dingy house would have to do for now.

  Evaine sighed, suddenly filled with impatience. ‘But what are we going to do about Oss and Sigmund? I want to go home. Where I can be a queen. Married to Eadmund. When is that going to happen? Surely you don’t plan on staying here now that Morana is Draguta’s prisoner?’

  Morac studied his daughter. He very much wanted to leave Hest, but as he had tried to explain, they would not be welcomed back on Oss; not once his part in Eirik’s death was revealed. And Evaine wouldn’t leave without Eadmund, who wouldn’t leave without Draguta, who didn’t appear to be going anywhere now that she had returned.

  And Morana couldn’t go anywhere.

  Even Meena was trapped by Jaeger and Draguta.

  But there was one person who could find their way out of Hest.

  And as that person, Morac knew that it was time for him to make a decision.

  Edela frowned, running a finger under the faint line of text. Dara Teros had such a delicate hand, she thought sadly, wishing she knew the woman. Wishing she knew what had happened to her.

  Whether she was still alive...

  Biddy fussed around behind her, seasoning the stew, making the beds, sweeping the floor. ‘I can’t stop thinking about that knife,’ she said suddenly. ‘If it truly was a magical knife, made to kill Draguta, then what is Jael going to do?’ Leaning the broom against the bed, she dragged a stool towards Edela, her mind whirring. ‘Wouldn’t this Dara woman know? She saw what would happen. Shouldn’t she have mentioned it in the prophecy?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Edela murmured, remembering her dreams. ‘Though I have seen some things lately...’

  Biddy leaned forward with a keen look in her eye.

  ‘I’m not sure what it all means but I think Dara Teros used that knife herself. That she killed Draguta with it. I saw her with the knife in my dreams. I heard her thoughts. She was going to use that knife on her sister.’

  ‘She killed Draguta?’ Biddy was confused.

  ‘No, not this time. It wasn’t now. It felt like long ago. I’ve always wondered how Draguta was killed back then. And perhaps now we know? Perhaps it was Dara with that knife?’

  ‘And she died the first time, didn’t she?’

  ‘She did. Yes. She was brought back to life by Morana Gallas and the Book of Darkness.’ Edela was feeling more troubled by the moment. �
��But now? Draguta did not remain dead this time, and no spell or dreamer was required to bring her back to life. It is quite obvious that the knife isn’t working now.’

  Biddy felt her shoulders creeping up to her ears.

  ‘Therefore, I think it is safe to assume that Toothpick isn’t going to work against Draguta either.’ Edela stared into Biddy’s eyes, seeing her own fears reflected.

  How was she going to tell Jael?

  Before Jael could reach Ravenna, who was busy talking with Gant at the high table, Garren Maas stepped in front of her. The rain had come down again, and those who could had squeezed into the hall, though the roof was leaking and Reinhard was running around with buckets, moving his guests away from the dripping thatch.

  Jael frowned. She had met Garren and his father before. Neither one of them were likeable, but Garren did, at least, try to be charming which could be entertaining.

  ‘My lady,’ he smiled with a brief nod. ‘Last time we met, I believe, you were in quite different circumstances.’

  Jael heard a familiar bellow, and her eyes darted away from Garren to where a red-faced Thorgils was arm-wrestling an Iskavallan. Torstan, Aleksander, and Fyn were behind him, cheering him on. ‘Circumstances change,’ Jael said without looking back at Garren. ‘As I’m sure you know.’ Her eyes snapped back to his. ‘As I’m sure you hope. Your ambition is hardly a secret. Not when you’re running around whispering it to everyone you meet.’

  Garren swallowed, surprised by her frankness. He knew her reputation as a warrior but as a queen? ‘My ambition is for Iskavall,’ he tried. ‘I have the well-being of my kingdom in my heart, as I know you did for your own when you murdered your uncle.’

  Jael lifted her cup to Reinhard’s wife, Britta, as she approached with the mead bucket. ‘Thank you,’ she smiled as Britta topped it up with her enormous ladle. ‘Of course. Though my uncle stole the throne from Brekka’s rightful king, so we were only restoring order.’