by A. E. Rayne
Dragmall nodded. ‘It did, yes.’
He placed the bottle in Else’s hand, and she smiled.
Brill was washing Draguta’s hair as she sat in the large, wooden tub which had been carried into the hall. Despite being an unbearably warm day, a fire was blazing in the stone hearth, and Brill was dripping with sweat as she leaned forward, sleeves rolled up, trying not to fall into the tub.
‘Girl!’ Draguta called as Meena scuttled down the stairs. She smiled, listening to Meena’s boots as they stuttered to a stop before shuffling ever so slowly into the hall.
Meena was surprised to see the tub. She quickly looked away from Draguta’s luminous body; her small breasts on full display above the steaming water.
‘And where have you been today?’ Draguta murmured. The water was hot, and the fire was hotter, and she almost felt ready for bed. ‘I have another list ready. More errands to send you on.’
Meena kept her mind clear, not wanting to reveal her thoughts about that. ‘I was looking after Morana.’
Draguta frowned. ‘Why?’ She sat up straight, away from Brill who, still holding onto her hair, was almost pulled into the tub. ‘What has happened to that old woman? She is supposed to be with Morana. You are not Morana’s assistant anymore.’
Meena felt protective of Else. She didn’t want to get her in trouble. ‘Else needed a break. Some fresh air.’
Draguta frowned at Meena, curling a finger in her direction. ‘Come closer. I cannot see your lies from over there.’
Meena gulped, creeping towards the tub, stopping a few steps from its edge as Draguta leaned over it, almost inhaling her.
‘Well, I suppose we can’t have the old woman dying on us, or we would need to find someone new, and I don’t imagine anyone could irritate Morana as much as she does. But...’ Draguta added, her eyes no longer sleepy, ‘you will ask my permission in future. I require your assistance at all times. No matter who you are with or what you are doing. You are to be exactly where I need you to be, waiting for me to call on you. Do you understand?’
Meena nodded emphatically.
‘Good!’ Draguta exclaimed, easing backwards so that Brill could finish soaping her hair. The gentle aroma of lavender was gradually undoing her knots of tension, and her thoughts were starting to drift. ‘Now, get along, up to my chamber. The list is waiting for you. And don’t be long. I shall be ready for you after my nap. Ready to get to work!’
Eadmund tried to sit still, but his body was humming. Something had happened to Rollo, and he didn’t know what. He hadn’t come back to the training ring, and he hadn’t gone to his room above the brothel. Morac had offered to see what he could find out, so Eadmund had walked back to the house with Evaine, waiting for him to return while she fussed over him.
He tapped the arm of the chair as Evaine cleaned his face, washing the dust out of his eyes, but his body was as tense as his mind, his thoughts becoming so turbulent that eventually, he shook her off and stood.
‘I haven’t finished,’ Evaine complained. ‘Elfwyn will need to stitch the cut on your cheek.’
‘No, she won’t,’ Eadmund insisted. ‘It’s fine.’
‘You can’t see it,’ Evaine insisted just as firmly. ‘It’s deep.’
Eadmund didn’t care. ‘It’s stopped bleeding for now, so let’s just see what happens.’ He looked around for his swordbelt. ‘I need to find Rollo.’
‘You won’t find him in Hest,’ Morac said as he came in the door, eager to escape the boil of the midday sun. His damp tunic was stuck to his back, and he pulled it away, wishing that Evaine’s new house had more windows. It felt even hotter than outside and smelled strongly of onions.
Eadmund turned in surprise, pulling his own tunic away from his back. ‘Why? Where is he?’
‘I don’t know, but he left on a ship. I couldn’t find out anything more than that. He went up to one of the coves and bordered a merchant ship, but no one could tell me where it was going.’
‘A ship?’ Eadmund felt an odd sense of loss. He had started to enjoy Rollo’s company, and he’d come to rely on his skill and direction in the training ring. ‘Is that Draguta’s doing?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ Morac sighed, taking a seat, peering at Eadmund’s face. ‘You should let Elfwyn stitch that cut. It looks bad.’
Evaine grinned triumphantly at Eadmund, who sat back on the chair, feeling the blood pouring down his cheek again. ‘Alright. But then I have to go and talk to Draguta. I need to know what’s happened to Rollo.’
Jael felt oddly better after her talk with Gant. Everything she’d believed about her father had been turned upside down, and she wasn’t sure how she felt, but some of her tension had gone, and she’d almost been able to think clearly as she outlined her plans for the attack on Hest.
Just the thought of taking action had lifted her mood.
The thought of getting closer to Eadmund. And Draguta.
It was the middle of the afternoon when she walked Raymon back to his tent. ‘You’re leaving now?’
He nodded. ‘We have a lot to prepare when we return to Ollsvik. I want to make a start.’
‘Makes sense. We’ll head off in the morning,’ Jael said, watching Getta approach with Ravenna. She felt the urge to turn and run in the other direction, but she kept walking. It felt strange to be around Raymon now. Jael tried not to stare at him, but she found herself wanting to see any resemblance to her father, though she wasn’t sure if it would help or just make everything feel worse.
‘We are packed and waiting,’ Getta said shortly, taking her baby back from Ravenna. He was starting to fuss, and Getta was convinced that Lothar didn’t like being held by his grandmother. ‘Will you be much longer?’ Her eyes were cold. Ignoring Jael. Questioning her husband.
‘No,’ Jael said. ‘We’re done. Our initial plans are made, but there is no point in going any further until we meet at Vallsborg.’ She avoided Ravenna’s eyes, watching Getta frown. ‘You’ll be safer once we defeat Draguta and destroy the Book of Darkness,’ she tried, feeling Raymon squirm with embarrassment beside her, seeing that his wife was so obvious in her disapproval. ‘And your husband will show his men what a good king he’s going to be. Leading them to victory. Protecting your kingdom.’ Jael’s smile was forced. Her eyes were as lifeless as Getta’s. And nodding to her cousin, she turned to Raymon. ‘I wish you a dry journey home. And we’ll see you soon.’
Raymon smiled, reaching for his son. ‘We’ll see you soon.’
Getta looked irritated, but she handed Lothar to his father, and with one final scowl at Jael, she spun around and followed her husband.
Ravenna remained behind. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.
Jael was confused. ‘Thank you?’
‘You’re trying to help him. I know it was a shock, but I’m grateful that you’re still trying to help him.’ She shook her head, tears leaking into the creases around her warm, brown eyes. ‘I’ve been so worried about what would happen to Raymon. He has many enemies, but he’s just a boy. He’s not ready, and Getta is...’ Ravenna stopped herself. ‘I wish you a safe journey, Jael.’ And dropping her eyes, she turned away after her son.
Jael watched her go, thoughts whistling through her head like the wind through Eadmund’s old cottage.
She sighed, trying not to see her father’s face.
‘I could sleep till Vesta,’ Entorp yawned, flopping into Edela’s chair. There was only Hanna left in his tent now. Everyone that had survived the sickness had been carried back to their own homes. Most only needed the minimal care of being slowly nourished back to health. They had no symptoms any longer, just overwhelming weakness. Some hadn’t eaten or drunk for days as their bodies shut down, preparing for death, and there was little Entorp could do to help with that. Astrid and Derwa were going to check on them regularly, and Marcus was staying with Hanna who wasn’t ready to be moved yet, so there was nothing for Entorp to do.
Except help Edela and Biddy solve all their problems.
/> They had missed his company, and now, finally having him back again, there were a lot of things to catch him up on.
Entorp had been surprised to learn that the Widow was not, in fact, the Widow, but Draguta’s sister, who had apparently killed Draguta with a knife made from the same materials as Jael’s sword, which now appeared useless. He kept shaking his head, not sure he’d taken it all in. ‘Well, the only one who knows the truth about it all is Dara Teros herself,’ he said, at last. ‘You must work on trying to find her, Edela. She must be able to tell you more about the knife and the prophecy. The shield too.’ He frowned, feeling as though he had stepped into a blizzard of problems.
‘Do you think she’s still alive?’ Biddy wondered, working the pestle in the large bowl Edela was adding herbs to. They were preparing everything they needed to break the soul spell, and though Biddy was trying to concentrate, Edela was feeling tense, welcoming the chance to talk about something else.
‘I don’t know,’ Entorp admitted. ‘She spent most of her life waiting for the prophecy to be realised by the sound of it. It would seem unlikely that she put herself in harm’s way just as it was all starting to fall into place. She must have known that Draguta would return one day?’
‘I hope so. I hope she’s still alive. There is so much I would like to ask her.’ Edela picked up a bunch of sweet basil and added three leaves to the bowl. ‘Especially about Jael’s sword.’
Biddy stopped grinding and stared at Entorp. ‘If Jael’s sword won’t kill Draguta... if she’s unstoppable, what can we do?’
Entorp smiled. ‘I don’t think anyone is unstoppable, Biddy. Even Raemus was killed in the end, wasn’t he? There will be a way to end Draguta once and for all. And if it’s not going to be Jael’s sword, we’ll find something else, don’t worry.’ He turned from Biddy’s worried face to Edela’s equally worried face. ‘Perhaps you will, Edela? In your dreams?’
‘Ahhh, my dreams,’ Edela sighed. ‘They are a web of mysteries and secrets that confound me most nights, but I will try. And in the meantime, I must focus on tonight. According to the book, we’re supposed to pick the juniper berries at dusk. So drink up, Entorp, and you can come with me, as I don’t think I have the legs to climb up that juniper tree anymore!’
Meena had spent far too long chasing after a toad, and now the sun was going down, and Draguta would soon start getting annoyed.
Why did every spell call for a creature that was impossible to catch, she wondered, her mind wandering as she traipsed back through the winding gardens with a heavy heart. Her thoughts did not belong to her, and it would do her no good to let them escape the prison she was trying to hide them in. Eventually, Draguta would see everything, she knew; tug out every weed growing in her head.
Closing her eyes, Meena inhaled the strong scent of jasmine, reminded of her childhood spent trailing after Varna, who only ever spoke to her in barking orders. And then Morana, and now Draguta.
Meena saw a turtle-dove watching her from the sagging bough of an old elm tree, and she felt envious as it flew away, wishing she could follow it up through the trees, their bright-green leaves rustling in the breeze; up over the walls of the gardens and far away from Hest.
Sighing, Meena looked away from the empty bough, back down to the list.
Belladonna was next.
The sky was turning pink.
And Draguta’s sharp voice was ringing in her head.
‘No fighting tonight,’ Jael grumbled to Thorgils as they walked to the hall with Ivaar who had reluctantly tagged along, not knowing what to do with himself. ‘I’d like you all to be able to use both eyes when we go to Hest. Your arms might come in useful too.’
Thorgils looked indignant. ‘Me? I only organise the entertainment. I couldn’t possibly take part with all of my injuries. You’ve no need to worry there.’
Jael snorted as he opened the door, and ushered her inside, following quickly behind her, letting it close in Ivaar’s face.
Ivaar stared at the door, his shoulders sagging.
Karsten came up behind him, slapping him on the back. ‘Come on! One more night of fleecing these stupid bastards before we go.’ He lowered his voice and winked at Ivaar. ‘You look like just the man we need.’ And pulling open the door, he pushed Ivaar into the hall, relieved that the sunshine appeared to have improved the smell. He saw the bushy raised eyebrows of Rork Arnesson, who was quickly motioning him over to a corner, and he pushed Ivaar some more. ‘Let’s go.’
Jael turned to watch Karsten leading Ivaar over to Rork, shaking her head. ‘I’d like to see that,’ she mumbled to Thorgils whose beard was already dripping with ale. ‘Ivaar Skalleson grappling some drunken Iskavallan.’
‘Ha!’ Thorgils laughed. ‘So would I, but that pig’s arse isn’t going to make a fool of himself. Damage that pretty face of his? I’d eat my own turd if he did that!’
Jael shook her head. ‘That’s not something I ever want to think about!’ And she left Thorgils to find his way to Karsten and Rork.
‘Drumming up more business?’ Gant asked, inclining his head towards Thorgils.
‘Looks like it. They’re trying to find another sucker,’ Jael said, smiling at Aleksander, who couldn’t smile back because his face hurt too much. ‘Having finished with you.’
‘I won, didn’t I?’ he muttered.
‘Yes, and with all your teeth too,’ Jael grinned, taking the cup of ale Gant offered her, feeling her body start to unwind. She didn’t feel right, but now that the Vandaals had left, she felt better.
There would be time to think before they met again. And, until then, Jael was going to focus on getting her men back to Andala and preparing her army.
Noticing Aleksander’s raised eyebrows, she turned as Ivaar stripped to the waist, facing up to Reinhard’s champion, a thick-necked wall of a man with arms like trees. Jael saw Thorgils’ wide-eyed surprise and burst out laughing.
‘This should be good,’ Gant said, moving ahead of her to get a better view.
Aleksander put his arm around Jael’s shoulder, pushing her after Gant. ‘Come on, there’s room over there.’
Jael kept her eyes on Ivaar, whose growling opponent struck the first blow – a sharp jab to Ivaar’s throat – thinking how much Eadmund would have enjoyed this.
Draguta was not inclined to care what Eadmund thought, but she was surprised by his insolence. It was a constant puzzle. He was bound to her as tightly as Jaeger, but she had to keep going back into the spell to tighten the knot that bound Eadmund to her.
It kept loosening, and she didn’t know why.
‘Who knew you would become so fond of that hairless beast?’ she muttered, her eyes fixed on him. Frozen. Unimpressed. ‘But what Rollo is doing is none of your concern. He will return when he has completed his task and only then. But for now, we will speak no more of it. Do you understand me, Eadmund?’
The knock on the door came at the perfect time, and as Brill opened it to reveal a red-faced Meena, Draguta stood, sending Eadmund on his way. He was still frowning and not moving with any great speed, so she pressed her hand against his sweaty back to help him along.
‘And what about training?’ he asked, turning at the door.
‘You will have to find someone new,’ Draguta said brightly. ‘Rollo will not be gone long, and after your little wrestle with Jaeger, you appear to be well on your way now. A few more weeks and you’ll be capable of killing anyone I choose.’
Eadmund scowled as Draguta shut the door in his face, reminding herself that she would have to sort him out later. She glided towards Meena with an eagerness to begin. ‘Now, what do you have for me here?’ And running her eyes over the bunches of herbs, mushrooms, and spices, she clapped her hands together, inhaling the fusion of earthy aromas. ‘For all your very obvious flaws, you are a good gatherer of things, Meena Gallas. This all looks perfectly in order.’ And handing Meena a piece of vellum, she turned to the door. ‘The instructions are all there, so you may start preparing ever
ything now. Anything you don’t know, I am sure Brill will be able to assist you.’ Draguta lifted her eyebrows at Brill, who quickly nodded, though she doubted that were true. ‘Wonderful. Enjoy your evening, ladies, as I shall enjoy mine!’
Meena didn’t turn around as Draguta slipped through the door, humming to herself. She glanced towards Brill, who looked even more miserable than she felt, and sighed.
Ivaar was sitting shoulder to shoulder with Thorgils, who’d drunk so much ale that he could almost cope with the experience of congratulating their new champion.
‘How is that possible?’ Jael wondered, shaking her head as Torstan sat down beside her. ‘That Thorgils is talking to Ivaar as if they’re long lost brothers over there?’
Torstan was drunk too, and he only grinned in response. A yellow-haired woman pushed herself in between them, and Jael moved away, leaving them to it.
‘Looking for somewhere to sit?’ Aleksander called.
‘You’re not drunk are you?’ Jael wondered.
‘Depends on why you’re asking,’ Aleksander decided with a wink.
‘Ha! I guess I’m looking for conversation. So far I haven’t found anyone who isn’t spitting or dribbling ale all over themselves or me.’
‘There’s always Axl,’ Aleksander said, nodding to her brother who sat with Fyn, commiserating with Reinhard who was a good weight of coins lighter after betting on his champion. ‘Seems to be holding himself together over there. And there’s me. But I can’t even hear myself think in here. Let’s go outside.’ And not giving Jael a chance to argue, he grabbed her hand and led her out into the night.
‘I need a new cloak,’ Jael grumbled, struck by how cold it was as they walked away from the hall.
‘You can have mine,’ Aleksander offered.
Jael shook her head, wrapping her arms around her chest. ‘You keep it.’