The Raven's Warning

by A. E. Rayne

  ‘Well, the path to Brekka’s throne was always a clear one. Clearer than Iskavall’s, at least, though we had all thought that you were your father’s heir. He intimated that to us many times when he was in Ollsvik. I heard it from his own lips, so it was a surprise when he passed you over.’

  Jael took a gulp of mead, and grimaced; it tasted even sweeter than before. ‘Perhaps. But I’m perfectly happy with the kingdom I have now. It suits me better, and my brother will make a strong king. Brekka is in good hands.’

  Garren nodded, sensing her impatience to leave. ‘I suspect so. But Iskavall?’ He turned to look at Raymon who had been cornered by a sour-faced Getta. ‘I’m sure you can see our concern. And it is not just my family who worries about the direction of our kingdom. There is a growing sense of unease.’

  Jael narrowed her eyes as a big cheer went up, Thorgils clambering onto a table, pounding his victorious chest, oblivious to the blood leaking through his tunic. ‘The direction of your kingdom will be into a midden heap if you don’t support our attack on Hest. You may want a crown and riches and power, but what will you have to be king of if everything you desire is just ash? Ambition is worthwhile. Blind ambition is not. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go and rescue that table.’ And taking another drink, Jael left Garren to chew that over while she headed to congratulate Thorgils, disappointed to see that Ravenna had disappeared.

  Garren watched her go.

  Jael Furyck was an intriguing woman, but ultimately, just a woman and her mutterings did little to dissuade him. He met his father’s eyes and raised his cup, smiling.

  Evaine was not smiling as Eadmund changed his tunic, running a hand through his sandy hair which had lightened considerably since he’d arrived in the South. Draguta had sent a chest of Haegen Dragos’ clothes to their new house, and Eadmund appreciated being able to wear something that wasn’t covered in dust and sweat, though it was tinged with the strange sensation of knowing what had happened to Haegen.

  ‘I thought we would spend the first night here, together,’ Evaine grumbled, glancing at her new servant, Elfwyn, who crouched over the meal fire, checking the cauldron. Evaine had ordered the woman to cook a selection of Eadmund’s favourite foods.

  But now he was leaving.

  ‘I promised Draguta that we would eat in the hall,’ Eadmund said with a weary smile. His nose was bright red. His cheeks too. He wiped a hand across his forehead, surprised by how much he was sweating. Hest had only gotten hotter since he had last been here.

  With Jael.

  He blinked quickly, not wanting to think about her.

  Evaine huffed, flopping into a chair, running her eyes over the house. Elfwyn had had a busy afternoon, rushing around the markets, buying candles, lamps, and food. And as well as cooking, she had made a start on cleaning the place, and though it would take days to get things in order, she had removed most of the dust and lit an array of candles so that the main room sparkled with golden light.

  Eadmund didn’t notice.

  He did notice Evaine’s miserable face, though. ‘Come on,’ he grinned, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the chair. ‘It’s just supper. I imagine Draguta wants to hear about my training. That’s all. Then we can come back here.’ He held her close, feeling her body wriggle in annoyance. ‘And when we do, I won’t be thinking about Draguta, I promise.’

  Evaine couldn’t help but smile then, but her nagging thoughts quickly turned it into a frown. ‘Do you not wonder what you’re doing, Eadmund? Running after Draguta? Have you not asked yourself where it will all lead? What she wants with you? Why she is making you train so hard?’ She peered up into his eyes, looking for signs that he was not as lost as she feared. ‘Don’t you want to go back to Andala for our son? Go home to Oss?’

  Eadmund stared at Evaine, listening to her words, but they quickly blurred into clouds as they entered his head. He saw her face, and it was beautiful, then he heard Draguta’s voice, and it was demanding.

  And nothing else.

  He was lost in the clouds.

  Then he smiled as they cleared, leaving nothing but the clarity of what he needed to do. ‘We should hurry, Evaine. Put on your boots. We don’t want to keep Draguta waiting.’

  ‘How’s your shoulder?’ Jael asked Thorgils who was sitting with Rork and Karsten, having secured a bench in one of the few corners of the hall that was leak free. All three of them were red-faced and bleary-eyed.

  Thorgils laughed. ‘Are you suggesting, perhaps, that arm-wrestling was not the best thing for a man in my condition to do?’ He leaned towards Rork, who being as wide as a cart, took up most of the bench. ‘I could hardly say no to that tit, could I? Boasting he’d never been beaten. With that puny arm? Ha! They don’t grow them very big up here!’

  Rork laughed with him, and even Karsten looked like he was enjoying himself.

  With nothing to do but sit and wait until Raymon Vandaal made his decision, drinking was the only entertainment anyone appeared interested in.

  And fighting, it seemed.

  Jael noticed that the tables had been pushed back to the walls as two bare-chested challengers emerged, chins jutting, eyes rolling, staggering towards each other. Jael was surprised to see that one of them was Aleksander. ‘What are you doing?’ she mouthed to him, standing as their bench was moved, her trio of companions wobbling to their feet.

  Aleksander smiled drunkenly back at her before turning to Gant who patted him on the shoulder, whispering in his ear as they considered his hulking opponent.

  ‘What is that about?’ Jael wondered as Fyn and Axl approached with Raymon.

  Axl laughed. ‘Aleksander insulted the man’s wife apparently, though Aleksander denies it. He thought she was his mother.’

  ‘And they’re fighting over that?’

  ‘Gives them something to do, and us something to watch,’ Raymon supposed. ‘Though, perhaps I could talk to you instead? Unless you want to watch your man fight?’

  Jael shook her head, laughing. ‘No. I’ve seen enough of him fight, I promise you. That poor bastard doesn’t know what he’s in for. Why don’t we walk to the stables? Check on the horses?’

  Raymon nodded, happy to escape Getta’s intense scowl which had been following him around the hall all night.

  They pushed their way through the cheering crowd, past Thorgils, Rork, and Karsten, who had quickly realised that it was the perfect opportunity to make a little coin, and were busy holding out a plate, looking for something to write names down on.

  Jael reached the door, turning back just in time to hear a loud cheer go up as Aleksander was thrown to the ground.

  ‘Where’s Aleksander?’ Hanna asked, then quickly added. ‘And Jael?’

  Her father sat beside her, his weary face relaxed for the first time in days. ‘They’ve gone to Rissna, a settlement near the border with Iskavall. To make an arrangement about their armies. Hopefully, they’ll return soon and head for Hest to get the Book of Darkness.’ He sat back as Astrid came over with a bowl of broth.

  She offered it to him. ‘It’s hot so you’ll need to blow on it.’

  Hanna turned up her nose at the smell.

  So did Marcus, but he took the bowl. ‘Thank you.’

  Hanna knew that she needed to eat to regain her strength, but the thought of doing it made her head hurt. She tried to distract her father, who looked so different with his scruffy beard. So tired too. ‘How can they? They won’t be safe.’ She kept seeing Aleksander in her dreams, and the thought that he would put himself in danger worried her.

  ‘No, they won’t,’ Marcus agreed, blowing on the broth, steam circling his face. ‘But we’re not safe here either. Wait till you hear what’s happened since you took ill.’

  Hanna’s eyes widened. So far her father hadn’t said much, dismissing her questions, waiting for her to have more energy; waiting until she was able to comprehend things with a clear mind. But she didn’t want to wait. She felt weak and weary, but more than anything, she f
elt impatient. ‘Tell me.’ Hanna wanted to sit up higher, to get out of bed, but she could barely lift a finger.

  Marcus smiled, turning the spoon towards her mouth. ‘I’ll tell you everything, but first, you need to have some of this.’

  Hanna scowled at him, but eventually, eager to hear the whole story, she sighed and opened her mouth.

  ‘Enemies, enemies, everywhere I turn,’ Draguta hummed, leaning out and peering down the table.

  Meena shrunk backwards, reminded of what had happened the last time she sat at the high table with Draguta. She could almost feel sharp claws digging into her back, gripping her with terror.

  Jaeger looked oblivious as he devoured his fourth roasted apple. He had trained for much of the day, spurred on by the sight of Eadmund fighting Rollo, and he’d eaten like a man who hadn’t seen food in weeks.

  Evaine didn’t care about Draguta’s mutterings either. She just wanted to get Eadmund back to their house. Reaching under the table, she ran a hand up his leg, pleased to see him turn away from Draguta, smiling at her, his eyes on her lips.

  ‘But which enemy should we defeat first?’ Draguta mused. ‘There are so many now, I can barely keep them in order.’ Lifting her goblet, she stared at Meena. ‘Come to my chamber in the morning, girl, and I shall have made my decision. I will dream on it tonight. And in the morning, we’ll begin!’

  Meena could feel the urgent need to tap her head, but she nodded it quickly instead, slipping her hands underneath her legs, trying to still her shaking body.

  31

  Rissna’s stables were leaking too. Jael wasn’t pleased, but she knew that most of the horses didn’t have the luxury of being in the stables anyway, so she wasn’t going to complain about Tig being dripped on. Though, perhaps she needed to have a word with Reinhard about repairing his entire fort.

  ‘You have a fine horse,’ Raymon said, watching Jael run her hand down Tig’s black muzzle.

  Jael smiled, pleased that Tig was being so well behaved. ‘I do. A gift from my father, many years ago now.’ She looked at Raymon whose eyes revealed both envy and sadness.

  ‘Ranuf was a good man. He visited my father often. I think he tried to guide him, offer advice, but my father preferred to listen to Lothar. To his detriment.’

  Jael turned to him. ‘You’re right about that. Lothar only saw the future through his own greedy eyes. Whatever benefited him was the right decision to make, no matter who it hurt.’

  ‘Do you regret killing him?’ Raymon asked. ‘You and Axl? Do you think it was the right thing to do?’

  ‘It was. For many reasons. Lothar wanted to enrich himself, and he was happy to destroy Brekka to do so. He hurt our mother, and he stole Axl’s throne, but mostly, Lothar would have ruined our kingdom. He had to go.’

  ‘And Osbert?’

  ‘He would have been an even worse king than his father. He was smart. Lothar wasn’t. Our people deserved better than either of them. And now they have Axl, and he has me, and we won’t let anyone take Brekka from us again.’

  Raymon nodded, then glanced around, but they were alone. ‘I want to come with you. I want to go to Hest. I’ll command my army, but you will lead us.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘I am. My wife is not. My men... I don’t know. I will speak to them. But I believe in what you’re trying to do. I want to keep my people safe. Hiding and caring only for ourselves will not keep us safe for long.’ Raymon frowned, imagining how Getta would take the news. ‘We must fight to make ourselves safe.’

  Jael smiled, thinking that sounded like something she would say. ‘Good. Then announce it tomorrow, when your men have sobered up and can remember what you’ve said. Give them your reasons. Let them hear your voice. They will see the truth.’

  Raymon wasn’t so sure. ‘I hope you’re right.’

  ‘So do I.’ Jael stared at him, wanting to see something more than the gangly boy who she was sure was shaking in his boots.

  But she couldn’t.

  ‘What do you think Draguta is going to do?’ Jaeger grunted, shunting Meena against the pillow. He was barely concentrating. His mind was fluttering about like a moth, unable to hold a single thought for longer than a heartbeat.

  Meena’s head banged against the wooden headboard, and she yelped.

  Jaeger grabbed her, pulling her further down the bed, closing his eyes, trying to focus as he gripped her shoulders, pushing himself deep inside her.

  Meena grimaced, not knowing if he still wanted her to speak. It was all she had thought about since supper. Now that Draguta was settled in the castle again, and she had made her decisions about her and Morana – Jaeger too – it appeared that she could turn her attention to her other enemies. And Meena was desperately worried about what that would mean for Berard.

  Part of her wanted to dream of him. To see if he was alright.

  The other part of her knew that Draguta would be watching, and she didn’t want to draw any attention to him or his family, making them a target for Draguta’s wrath.

  In the end, she whispered. ‘I don’t know what she’s going to do. But I imagine whatever it is will be terrifying.’

  Draguta had three tables in her chamber now.

  Three seeing circles.

  One for Jael Furyck, one for Edela Saeveld – who now had the Book of Aurea – and one that remained empty as she searched for her sister. And Draguta weighed everything like silver as she moved from one circle to the next, letting her mind wander to the possibilities; the probabilities.

  She had been thwarted too many times now.

  Yes, there had been some success, but her ambitions for Osterland remained stalled, so she was conscious of choosing the path that would guarantee a successful outcome.

  But which one was it to be?

  Turning away from her circles, Draguta moved to the chair by the fire. It was another muggy night, but she was enjoying the glowing warmth of the flames, unlike Brill who had crawled into her little bed with nothing but a sheet, struggling to breathe in the oppressive chamber.

  Picking up the Book of Darkness, Draguta decided that she would let it tell her the answer. It was the book after all that had guided her to this very place.

  And it was the book, therefore, that would lead her to where she needed to be.

  It was late, and Edela was ready for bed, but she was still in the hall, having spent the afternoon with Branwyn. Her daughter would not eat, and, in the end, Edela had put her to bed in one of the chambers and sat with her while she cried and talked, and cried some more.

  Edela had cried with her before disappearing to pick some hops and valerian for a tea that had finally relaxed Branwyn, who had fallen asleep hugging a pillow, tears drying on her cheeks.

  Leaving the chamber, Edela made her way to the end of the corridor to where Amma had emerged from the kitchen, looking at her in surprise.

  ‘I didn’t expect to see you here, Edela,’ Amma blinked. She was in her nightdress, carrying a bowl of raspberries. ‘Have you been with Branwyn?’

  Edela nodded, noticing the tiredness and worry on Amma’s face. ‘I have. She is quite broken by Kormac and Aron’s deaths. One would have been bad enough, but two?’ Edela sighed, feeling bone weary herself. ‘She has fallen asleep in Gisila’s chamber. And what about you?’ Though she knew she shouldn’t, Edela tried to tiptoe towards the subject of Amma’s pregnancy. ‘How are you feeling?’

  Amma quickly hid her eyes. ‘I’m a little tired. Missing Axl. Hoping they’re alright. Worried about what Getta will do.’ She looked up and tried to smile, but Edela’s keen eyes had her blinking. It was as though the old dreamer was fingering her way through her secrets and she didn’t know how to stop her.

  ‘Well, that’s a lot to be thinking about,’ Edela chuckled. ‘Just know that my cottage is not too far away if you need help with any of it. I am very discreet you know. Dreamers take an oath never to reveal anyone’s secrets.’

  ‘They do?’

  ‘Of cour
se. We can’t go walking about in someone’s head and blurt out what we find like an old gossip. No one would ever confide in us, would they?’

  ‘I suppose not,’ Amma said thoughtfully. ‘Well, I should go to bed. It’s getting late.’

  Edela nodded. ‘It is. Sleep is what we all need, I think. And a few useful dreams.’ She winked at Amma, turning towards the curtain.

  Amma watched Edela leave, wanting to go after her, but she didn’t want to reveal her fears. Not to anyone.

  She didn’t want to think it possible that she was carrying Jaeger Dragos’ baby.

  Little Lothar had finally sobbed himself to sleep, and as Getta lay back down in their bed, Raymon edged towards his uptight wife. The feasting had gone on well into the night, and after a rainy day, stuck in the hall, talking and drinking, even he was drunk.

  Getta was not impressed.

  Nor was she impressed by what he had promised Jael. But she kept her mouth shut. Jael knew more about her than Getta wanted anyone to know. And she didn’t plan on giving her cousin a reason to open her mouth.

  ‘I will tell the men in the morning,’ Raymon mumbled, reaching a hand towards Getta’s face.

  She batted it away.

  He frowned and rolled onto his back. Frustrated.

  ‘What will they do? The Maas’ and their allies?’ he wondered, all his fears rushing to the forefront of his mind. ‘Kill me?’ He swallowed, turning to Getta. ‘Is that what you really think?’

  Getta heard the panic in his voice, but she didn’t move.

  She didn’t love Raymon. He had provided her with security and status. With riches and power. With a son. He was a means to an end. But if being his wife was about to become a liability, well, Getta was going to have to reassess things and decide exactly which side she wanted to be on.