by A. E. Rayne
They walked in silence, watching the fires burning around the tents where groups of men and women gathered for more drinking and storytelling. Without the Iskavallans, everything suddenly felt a lot less tense.
‘Do you think they’re alright in Andala?’ Aleksander frowned. ‘You haven’t had any dreams, have you?’
His eyes were so dark, they looked almost hollow, and Jael was reminded of the dragur. ‘No. Not about that.’
‘What about...’ he almost whispered, ‘Hanna? Do you know if she’s alive?’
‘I don’t. No. But I hope so.’
Aleksander didn’t say anything as they walked past the latrines, getting a whiff of what it smells like when a thousand men descend upon a small fort. They hurried past, heading out of the gates, along the muddy road. ‘And how are you?’
‘Impatient.’
He laughed. ‘Sounds about right.’
‘I’m just ready to begin. I’m tired of waiting for the next attack. I want to be the next attack. I want to rip out Draguta’s heart and burn it to ash. I want to destroy her and her book so they can never hurt anyone again. And I want to get my husband back and go home to my kingdom.’ She turned to Aleksander, grabbing his arms. ‘I’m done with waiting. It’s time to make ourselves safe again!’
V
MY FATHER’S SON
34
The Iskavallans made their camp in the forest, stopping not long after dusk, erecting their tents quickly and setting fires; some choosing to hunt for their supper; others making do with what they had brought from Ollsvik and found in Rissna.
Ravenna had eaten with Raymon and Getta, though no one had spoken much as they sat around their fire, keeping to themselves, tired after the day’s journey.
Getta had ignored Garren and his conniving eyes, sensing them on her whenever he was near. She had barely been able to think since hearing about Raymon’s real father. Since hearing about her own. She shivered, remembering the taste of Garren’s lips, the feel of his body against hers. Finally, unable to ignore the intensely arousing feelings, Getta grabbed Raymon’s hand and led him into their tent.
Raymon was surprised. Pleased. She had not spoken to him since they’d left Rissna, and not much before that. ‘It was a long day,’ he murmured, not feeling tired as he turned to her.
Getta let him pull her towards him, though he was not Garren, and she desperately wanted to feel Garren’s hands on her. Raymon was kissing her, but she was barely there, her mind wandering to her father, murdered by her cousins, and to her husband, who was now their brother.
And what was Garren going to do about that?
‘Come to bed,’ Raymon smiled.
It was dark in the tent, and despite her body throbbing with need, Getta was more tired than anything, but she sighed and followed him, not wanting to think at all.
Else had waited all day to give Morana the herbs. She had understood what Dragmall meant immediately when he’d mentioned them. He used to brew himself a dreaming tea when they were together. To help free his mind, he would say. To see those things the gods hid from humans.
Else suspected that Dragmall was a dreamer, but he would always deny it.
Still, he did say that the tea worked wonders.
And now she would see if it worked for Morana, though it would be impossible to know. But perhaps, if it helped Morana dream, she could find her own answers, and a way out of Draguta’s prison for them all.
Else tried to stop her mind from racing towards the things she was trying to conceal. Instead, she smiled and held the sweet-smelling tea up to Morana’s lips.
Morana frowned. She didn’t want the stinking tea.
She tried not to inhale, blinking at Else, who ignored her and lifted the cup higher so Morana could smell the tea, and suddenly, Morana stopped blinking and tried to open her mouth.
Edela felt nervous as she focused on the page. It was dark in the cottage, despite Biddy bringing in three extra lamps. Dara’s writing was faint, or perhaps it was that time had faded it? And Edela knew that time had certainly faded her old eyes, so she squinted and re-read everything, wanting to get it right.
She thought of Jael as she sat there, listening to Biddy fussing over Eydis, and Entorp, who was tapping distractedly on the drum. More than anything, Edela wanted to free Eadmund and bring him back to Jael and Eydis.
She placed the Book of Aurea on the ground beside her and picked up Eadmund’s wedding band which she positioned on her knee, reaching forward to grab her knife.
A candle burned before her. She had carved symbols into it, and in the floorboards, making a circle inside which she sat.
Uncomfortable, unconfident, but impatient to begin.
Ayla was there too, and she smiled at Edela, sensing her tension; wishing she was strong enough to help.
‘Are you ready?’ Biddy wondered, peering at her face. Edela had gone very quiet.
‘I am,’ Edela breathed, swallowing, taking one last look at Eydis who Biddy had positioned beside her, inside the circle. ‘Put your hand on my knee, Eydis, and make sure you inhale the smoke slowly. It will be very strong, I should say, with those herbs. Short, slow breaths to begin, and then we’ll drink the potion.’
Edela’s voice drifted away, and Eydis felt panic flutter in her chest, worried that she wouldn’t be able to help her.
Worried that they wouldn’t be able to save Eadmund.
‘You are so beautiful,’ Eadmund smiled, all thoughts of Rollo gone as he ran his finger over Evaine’s lips before bending to kiss them. ‘So very beautiful.’
Evaine sighed with happiness, hearing the desire in his voice. It was dark in the bedchamber. Dark and muggy. Her body was slick with sweat as she lay beneath him, feeling him sliding against her.
Arching her back, Evaine closed her eyes, every niggle and irritation drifting away like fireflies into the night.
Jael’s dreams tortured her with pictures she didn’t want to see. They’d started the moment she closed her eyes, and no matter how desperately she twisted and turned in her creaking cot bed, she couldn’t wake herself up.
She saw Eadmund in bed with Evaine. On top of Evaine.
She saw her dead daughter.
And then she saw her father with Ravenna. They were in a bedchamber, sitting on a fur in front of a fire, watching their baby son wriggle and dribble.
‘He needs to go to sleep,’ Ravenna smiled.
She looked so young. There wasn’t a line on her face.
Ranuf held out a hand to stop her taking the baby. ‘Just a little longer,’ he tried. ‘Please. I have to leave in the morning. Just a little longer.’
Jael could see the sadness in his eyes. The torture.
She didn’t care. She wanted to look away.
Ranuf bent down and lifted up his son, his face alive as Raymon gurgled at him, smiling toothlessly, kicking his legs as Ranuf brought him into the crook of his arm. ‘My son,’ he murmured as Jael turned away, looking for another dream. ‘My son.’
Jael closed her eyes, squeezing them tight.
‘Jael!’ Ranuf’s voice was urgent now. ‘My son!’
Edela felt that Eydis was with her. She couldn’t see her, but she didn’t feel alone in the darkness.
She was in a house. It looked like a grand house. Not Andalan, she was sure; the walls were made of stone. Edging cautiously towards the light, Edela found a door, and she slipped through it, entering a bedchamber; candles burning on either side of a large double bed where Eadmund and Evaine were sleeping.
Edela heard a sharp intake of breath.
It wasn’t her.
She couldn’t swallow. Her head was pounding, and she felt uncomfortably warm as she crept towards the bed, trying to see what she hoped was there: a rope, connecting Eadmund to Evaine.
It was dark, shadows shifting over the sleeping bodies from the flickering lamps, and she was struggling to see. Evaine stirred, and Edela froze, realising that she had to hurry. She could feel the effort of holding
the trance, and Edela knew that it wouldn’t be long before she was on her knees, back in the cottage.
Leaning forward, she reached around Eadmund’s chest, searching, and finally feeling the smooth, slender rope, she grabbed it. Evaine rolled over, groaning, and Edela could see that the rope was draped over her, like a black snake coiled around her body. She ran her hand down the rope, feeling it shake as she found where it entered Eadmund. It was not tied around him at all. And pushing gently, trying to keep her breathing steady, Edela eased her hand all the way down... into Eadmund’s soul.
Jael gasped, sitting upright. Her heart was banging in her chest, and she couldn’t catch her breath. It was raining, she thought, but she quickly realised that the noise was inside her head.
Rubbing her eyes, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, trying to breathe. Her father’s voice came back to her, and she frowned, dropping her head to her hands, not wanting to think about him at all. Not wanting to remember her dream of Ranuf with his baby son. It felt too strange.
How had he had another family?
Jael shivered, suddenly cold. The tent was dark, the sides flapping, and she looked around for her fur which had fallen onto the ground, and when she sat back up with it in her hands, she came face to face with Fyr.
Edela pushed her hand down until she felt a knot. And, grasping it, she froze. Everything had suddenly gone black. She tried blinking, but her vision did not clear. ‘Eydis?’ she panicked, trying to blow small breaths out through her mouth to calm herself down. Her hand was in Eadmund’s soul. She couldn’t stop now. ‘Eydis, help me.’
And suddenly there was light, and Edela swallowed, still gripping the knot, working hard to pull it back out, but it wouldn’t budge. ‘Eydis, make the symbol,’ Edela panted, hearing a buzzing in her ears like a swarm of bees. ‘Make the symbol now.’
And then Edela saw her, as Eydis leaned over her brother, painting a symbol on his naked chest. It represented an ending. A breaking of what had been. A time to start anew. And Edela felt the knot slip away, all resistance gone and she pulled it straight through Eadmund’s stomach as though she was lifting a feather.
Eydis blinked at Edela, too terrified to speak, watching as she cut through the rope, chanting the words she had memorised from the book, three times, holding both ends in her left hand. And when she was done, she dropped them, turning to look at Eydis, but she had gone.
And when Edela turned back around, so had the rope.
Or, at least, one of them had.
There was another rope.
Edela could see it as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. It wrapped around Eadmund’s waist, thinner than the other one, and as Edela grabbed it she felt an explosion shoot up her arm, and everything went dark.
‘Wake! Up!’ Jael screamed, running out of her tent, buckling her swordbelt around her mail, pushing her feet deeper into her boots. ‘Wake up! We ride now!’
Rissna was suddenly alive with noise, bodies staggering out of tents; stumbling out of the hall. Jael ran to the stables to ready Tig, almost smacking straight into a wobbling Ivaar who grabbed her arms, struggling to focus on her; Thorgils and Karsten right behind him.
‘What’s happened?’
Jael didn’t have time to explain. ‘It’s Raymon! I need everyone who has a horse! We have to ride now!’
The moon was just a sliver, and not much to see by, but as she turned around, Jael saw the shimmer of wings as Fyr flew away to the east.
Where they would need to go, and quickly.
Biddy hurried to Edela’s side as she tipped forward, perilously close to the flames.
Entorp dropped his drum and rushed to check on Eydis who had opened her eyes, but looked as though she too was about to fall over. The cottage was filled with smoke, and none of them could breathe easily.
After helping Edela into her chair, Biddy opened the door, taking a quick breath before pouring cups of water for everyone. ‘Here,’ she said, handing one to Eydis, another to Edela. ‘Have a good drink of that.’ And she bent over, coughing before returning for the other two cups.
‘Eydis?’ Entorp was worried. She seemed to be trapped in the trance. ‘Are you there?’
Eydis heard Entorp’s voice as though it was drifting somewhere in the clouds above her head, but she nodded slowly, trying to pull herself back into the cottage.
Ayla was beside her as well now. ‘Can you dip a cloth in some water?’ she asked Biddy. ‘She’s very hot. We need to wake her up a little more.’
Edela couldn’t stop coughing. The water didn’t help, and her mind was tumbling as if she were rolling down a grassy bank. She saw the rope in her mind, and looking down at her shaking hands, she saw that she was still holding the knife.
Ayla held the wet cloth to Eydis’ neck, then draped it over her face, and eventually, Eydis blinked, panicking. ‘Edela!’ she croaked, her throat so dry, she had to swallow to find some saliva. ‘Edela! What are we going to do about the other rope?’
Jael’s men weren’t ready fast enough for her liking. Many of them were drunk, but sobering quickly in the cold night air as she waited on Tig, urging them on with impatient eyes.
Eventually, Aleksander was beside her; Gant, Axl, Thorgils and Fyn lined up behind them. ‘We ride fast!’ she yelled to her men. ‘And we don’t stop! Take care of your horse! Keep your eyes open! And if you’re still drunk, you’re at the back!’ And nodding for Gant to blow his horn, she tapped her boots against Tig’s flanks. It hadn’t taken him long to wake up, and he shivered with excitement as he galloped away from the fort, down the muddy track that led into the forest.
Jael blinked her eyes open wide, hoping she’d be able to find her way in the dark. Then she heard the raven, just ahead of her, and she dropped her head down, closer to Tig’s, pushing him on, into the forest.
After Fyr.
It was strange not to feel any elation. Edela knew that she had cut the rope that bound Eadmund to Evaine. She had felt it shrivel and die.
But the other one?
What was that?
‘What happened when you touched it?’ Ayla asked.
‘It felt like a spark ignited. Like lightning. Everything went dark, and I woke up here,’ Edela said. She wanted to lie in her bed, but there was too much to discuss. Her body had not stopped shaking, and her breathing was rapid, but she ignored all of it as she tried to focus her thoughts.
‘It must be Draguta,’ Ayla decided. ‘She has bound Eadmund too. Or Morana Gallas?’
‘I couldn’t even touch it so how are we going to cut that rope?’
‘I don’t know,’ Ayla admitted, the smoke still addling her own mind. ‘We need to look in the Book of Aurea again, but not tonight, Edela. You must sleep now. Eydis too. That took a lot out of you both.’
Eydis could only nod sleepily as Biddy helped her to her feet, showing her to her little bed before going back for Edela.
Entorp frowned at Ayla, watching as she stood. ‘If Draguta has bound Eadmund to her, he will do whatever she wants. To whomever she wants. He is most certainly not free.’
Eskild studied her son as he walked towards Morana’s tiny cottage. Made from wisened bark logs, topped with a grass roof, it was hidden in the trees, as though it were part of the forest itself. But there was a door, and smoke wound its way out of the roof, and Eskild could smell the rich flavours of meat cooking as she followed Eadmund inside.
Morana bent over her cauldron, stirring with a long, wooden spoon. Lifting the spoon to her lips, she blew, then tasted the stew, quickly looking around for the salt. ‘It worked last time,’ she grumbled. ‘Why are you so worried now?’
Eskild turned to see Morac sitting across from his sister.
As usual, he looked as though he was sucking a lemon; his thin lips pursed, his face twisted into a scowl. Miserable man, she thought to herself as Eadmund walked away from her to the other side of the cottage, watching with interest.
‘Eirik’s a man. Bigger than the girl. What if ther
e’s not enough. What if it just makes him sick? Doesn’t kill him? He might suspect me,’ Morac panicked, his eyes on the bottle he held in his hands.
Morana snorted as she sprinkled salt over the stew, stirring it again. ‘Do you think I’m stupid, Brother? Me? After all these years, Eirik Skalleson is finally going to get what he deserves. Don’t you think I’d ensure there was more than enough to kill him? I’d happily have him suffer a slow death. It’s what he deserves, but we cannot take the risk that he’ll reveal anything.’ She glared at her brother. ‘You had no trouble killing Eadmund’s wife, that stupid little bitch. Now you just have to kill his father, and Eadmund will be one step closer to us. One step closer to being ours.’ And she turned away to look for some bowls.
Eskild felt as though time itself had stopped. She could feel the flutter of her lashes as her eyes opened and closed ever so slowly, watching as Eadmund lifted his head and stared at her, his eyes full of pain.
And anger.
They rode through the forest, thundering down the narrow paths, around the tall birch trees after Jael, who did not stop, nor look around. She rode with intense concentration, trying not to drive them straight into a tree trunk. The night was a cloak over both her and Tig and only by being constantly alert was she going to get them through the forest in one piece.
Aleksander rode just behind her, Sky following Tig closely, the bite of the wind keeping them wide awake. Eventually, he could see dawn coming. The sky was lightening, and as the path widened, he rode up next to Jael whose tired eyes remained fixed ahead.
‘What’s happened?’ he called.
But Jael only glanced briefly at him before refocusing, pushing Tig harder, knowing that they were getting close.