by A. E. Rayne
Morac didn’t understand. ‘But you have Eadmund. He is here. With you. You don’t have your son yet, but you will soon. Eadmund will see to it. And once Draguta has finished with him, he’ll make you his queen. Of course he will.’
Evaine stared at her father, shaking her head. ‘Do you even see what is happening with Eadmund? He is gone, and nothing we do will bring him back to me.’ She blinked, surprised by the certainty she felt, and by the idea that had just sparked. ‘Unless...’
‘Unless?’
‘Unless Morana could help?’
They both turned as Meena rushed up to them, red-faced and panting.
‘What do you want?’ Evaine grumbled.
Meena ignored her, her eyes on Morac. ‘Else wondered if you would watch Morana while she takes a break?’
Morac looked at Evaine, who smiled, and they both turned to Meena. ‘Of course. We’ll come right away.’
43
Edela was distracted, hurrying across the busy square on her way to see Marcus when she spied Jael talking to Aleksander, and she realised that she needed to talk to her granddaughter most urgently of all.
Jael smiled as Edela approached.
‘Will you walk me to Marcus’ cottage?’ Edela asked, noting the interest in Aleksander’s eyes which quickly turned away from hers.
Jael put her cup on the table and nodded, intrigued. She was keen to know about the dreams Eydis had mentioned, but Edela didn’t speak until they were well away from the square.
‘It’s Eadmund,’ Edela said with a smile. ‘We broke the spell.’
Jael stopped as though she had run into a stone wall. She spun around, grabbing Edela’s arms. ‘What?’ Her body shook. ‘What?’
Edela hurried to calm the happiness blooming in Jael’s weary eyes. ‘We broke the soul spell, Evaine’s spell. But there is another.’
Jael cursed herself for believing it could all be that simple. ‘Of course there is,’ she sighed as they started walking again.
‘I went to Eadmund, dug into his soul. Cut the binding rope that joined him to Evaine,’ Edela whispered, sensing Jael still beside her. ‘But there was another rope, tied around him. And when I touched it, I disappeared, out of the trance, so I’m not sure how we can possibly undo it.’
‘So, Draguta has him, then?’
‘I would say so.’
Jael’s body suddenly felt heavy with the dread of what was to come. ‘Keep dreaming,’ she urged her grandmother. ‘Find a way to cut that rope. I can’t fight Eadmund. It can’t come down to that, can it?’
‘There’s more, I’m afraid,’ Edela warned her, and she told Jael about her dream of Draguta being killed with the knife; her dreams of Dara Teros too.
‘And you’re sure the knife is like my sword?’
‘Yes, I am.’
Jael scratched her head. ‘So, Draguta is more powerful than Dara imagined when she wrote the prophecy? More powerful than the sword or the knife?’
Edela nodded. ‘Yes, it appears so. That is not to say that you won’t be able to use your sword, but I think it’s time to try and find this shield of Eadmund’s.’
‘But Eadmund isn’t ready. He’s not even on the right side of what’s coming,’ Jael insisted.
‘No, he’s not. And the prophecy might all be wrong. Who knows,’ Edela said with an ever-deepening frown. ‘But that shield was made for a reason, and if it’s not Eadmund who is going to wield it, then it will have to be someone else. We must find it, Jael. We have the Book of Aurea. We have your sword, whether it works or not. And now we need to find that shield. It may be the one thing that will keep you safe.’
Jael wasn’t so sure. ‘I may as well walk towards Draguta with a white banner flying by the sound of it. Give her everything she wants! She took my baby. She has my husband. And now she’s taken away the power of my sword.’ She shook her head, wanting to scream. ‘I don’t see how we can stop her. I don’t. I just don’t!’
‘We’ll find a way,’ Edela assured her granddaughter, trying to sound more confident than she felt. ‘Don’t you worry, now. We’ll find a way.’
Draguta sat on the bed, looking through the chest Meena had brought back from Morana’s chamber. It was a small, musty box stuffed with nothing she wanted to touch, but there were items in it that would be useful, she knew.
Lifting up a pale-yellow dress, she looked at Brill who stood in front of her, waiting to be of assistance. ‘Come here, you miserable creature. Come and tell me who these clothes belonged to.’ She could almost feel it herself, but she wanted confirmation.
Brill’s eyes widened. She didn’t want to be responsible for getting anything wrong, but she nodded and sat down beside Draguta, blinking at the yellow dress. ‘I would guess Amma Furyck,’ she mumbled into her own dress. ‘Jael Furyck wore trousers, and her mother would not wear such a thing. It’s a girl’s dress.’
‘I am pleased to hear how observant you were, Brill,’ Draguta said with satisfaction. ‘That will make all of this much easier indeed.’ And she turned back to the chest and pulled out a wristguard.
Morac and Evaine sat with Morana, pleased to be rid of Else, but neither knew what to say to the morose-looking woman who sat lifelessly before them, staring past them to the door.
Eventually, Morana closed her eyes.
Evaine started to speak, but Morac grabbed her arm, his eyes insistent as she glared at him. It would do neither of them any good to say what they wanted out loud. He knew his sister had a way of reading his thoughts, and he hoped she was doing it right now.
It was still a risk, but it was all he could think of to do.
If Draguta had bound Eadmund to her, Morac knew that they could quickly become irrelevant. And though he had made subtle enquiries about merchant ships heading to Silura, he knew that it was going to be hard to convince Evaine to come with him.
He let everything float into his mind.
Everything that was happening in the castle with Draguta. Her plans for Eadmund and Jaeger. Her invasion of Helsabor. Briggit Halvardar’s rise to power.
He wanted his sister to know all of it.
Morana watched them both, intrigued. Evaine looked miserable, and she quickly began to understand why. Without Eadmund there was no point to her life, she knew. No point to anything.
Morana didn’t care.
But she was curious about what Draguta was planning next. Once she found her way out of her prison, she needed to destroy the vengeful bitch quickly, so she was eager to know everything that had been going on.
Squeezing her right eye, Morana blinked at Morac, and he smiled.
Gant wondered if he should go and check on Gisila. Eventually, he convinced himself that she would need time to let it all sink in; that seeing him would only make everything worse.
‘How did it go?’ Jael asked as she wandered towards him with Aleksander and Aedan. They had come to check on the sea-fire production.
Gant squirmed. ‘As you’d expect, I think.’ He glanced at Aedan, wondering if he knew what they were talking about, but he realised that it didn’t matter. Soon everyone would. ‘She walked off before I could say much.’
‘I don’t blame her,’ Jael said. ‘Imagine how she feels? Oh wait, I don’t need to, my husband had a son with another woman too!’
No one knew if Jael was trying to be funny, but she had a grin on her weary face, and they all relaxed a little.
‘Maybe you should go and talk to her?’ Aleksander suggested.
‘Me?’
Gant was quickly nodding in agreement. ‘You should. She probably wants someone to talk to. Someone who understands what it feels like.’
Now it was Jael’s turn to squirm. ‘Maybe, but let’s check on the sea-fire first, then I’ll think about it.’ The wind whipped her braids across her face, and she looked up, seeing that the sun had well and truly disappeared for the day. ‘Might be a storm tonight.’
Their eyes followed Jael’s and no one looked pleased by the thought of th
at.
The wind rattled Marcus’ door, but Edela didn’t notice as she stared at him, waiting for him to speak. He was sitting on Hanna’s bed, feeding her some broth, his brow furrowed as he took in the full weight of her story.
Edela smiled at Hanna, pleased to see how well she looked. Not well enough, but better than the near-death skeleton of a few days ago.
Marcus turned to her. ‘It does sound as though it was the scroll stolen from the temple. And it’s been in Angard all this time?’
‘I imagine so. In the hands of The Following, by the sound of it.’
‘In the hands of Briggit Halvardar’s mother,’ Marcus murmured.
‘Really? Neera is Briggit’s mother?’
‘She is. Whether she still lives, I don’t know,’ he admitted as Hanna shook her head, not wanting any more broth. Marcus put the bowl on the table and turned back to Edela. ‘I wouldn’t call what Bruno took the prophecy, though. It was a scroll of notes. Memories. I don’t know how accurate they were, or whether the person who wrote them had even read the prophecy, but it’s all we’ve ever had to go on. The only one who truly knows what is going to happen is Dara Teros.’
‘I think you’re right,’ Edela agreed. ‘But I am worried that Briggit and her mother know more than we want them to know. They know the danger Jael and Eadmund pose. They know about the sword and the shield. They know about Draguta. All of that was in the scroll, wasn’t it?’
Marcus nodded. ‘It was. But they’ve done nothing. In all the years since Neera bought that prophecy, they’ve done nothing that we know of.’
‘But they’re starting to now. With her daughter taking the throne. Murdering her grandfather. Trying to murder all of us with that sickness curse. They’re starting to now.’
Marcus looked worried. ‘Jael cannot go to Hest while The Following rules in Helsabor,’ he warned. ‘She needs to destroy them first. They are a threat to her and us. They will want the Book of Darkness as much as Draguta.’
‘I agree, but now that it appears Jael’s sword won’t help her, what of the shield? Do you have any idea where it is?’
Marcus shook his head. ‘Its location was not written in the scroll, and the gods have never revealed anything about it to me. It was always meant for Eadmund. His to find when it was time.’
‘But now he is the last person who should have it,’ Edela murmured. ‘So we are going to have to find it ourselves, before anyone else does.’
Meena had been called back into Draguta’s chamber and given another list.
‘For tonight,’ Draguta had said. ‘It has been some time, I know, but these are the last items I require for our return to the stones.’
Meena’s heart had skipped a beat.
‘Tonight,’ Draguta had repeated, sending her on her way. ‘Do not take all day, girl. You will have much to prepare when you return.’
And now Meena walked towards the winding gardens, already wistful for the feeling of cold water washing over her skin. The sun had slunk behind a bank of dense clouds, enhancing the humidity of the afternoon.
Jaeger smiled as he approached the twitching figure. Somehow, Meena always made him feel better. ‘Where have you been all day?’ he called, leaving the stables. He had been riding up to the cliffs with Gunter, the head of his army, talking over their proposed route to Helsabor, and now he was dripping with sweat, and eager for some wine and shade.
Meena stumbled to a stop just as she was about to turn under the archway into the gardens. ‘I’ve been doing things for Draguta.’
‘What things?’ Jaeger wondered. ‘What is she planning now?’ He had been intrigued by Draguta’s lack of urgency since her return. She had kept her plans for the Brekkans very close to her chest.
Perhaps the truth was that she didn’t have any?
Perhaps her mind was solely on conquering Helsabor now?
‘I don’t know,’ Meena admitted, wanting to leave. ‘I have to go into the gardens,’ she insisted as Jaeger came even closer, bringing her into his arms. He felt more sweaty than she did.
It was not pleasant.
‘Why don’t I come with you?’ Jaeger suggested slyly, remembering his time in there with Evaine.
Meena panicked. ‘Draguta is doing something tonight,’ she said quickly, trying to ease away from him. ‘At the stones. I have to hurry. There will be a lot to prepare once I get back.’
‘Oh.’ Jaeger stepped back, his eyes wide. ‘Tonight? And who will she be taking to the stones, then?’
Meena shrugged, wishing the answer wasn’t her.
Draguta stood on her balcony, watching the sun retreat for another day. The clouds appeared to be thickening, but she did not feel worried. The gods might think they could play games with her, but she felt no fear at all now.
Knowing that the knife was powerless had set her free.
Nothing could stop her now. Nothing, and no one.
She thought of Taegus, her love, and Valder, her son, and her contentment suddenly vanished. All that she planned to build would be empty without them. But she would find a way to bring them both back. There would be a way...
It was everything to her: claiming Osterland, destroying her enemies.
Defeating her sister.
And she would.
One by one, she would.
‘You wished to see me?’ Eadmund asked, walking out onto the balcony. His face was bright red, having just finished his second training session of the day. He could barely lift his arms, but it had felt good defeating his opponent, imagining what Rollo would have said. Probably not much, he realised with a tired grin.
Draguta spun around, her red lips lifting into a broad smile. ‘I did. And here you are! Come,’ she said, motioning to the small table that sat between two chairs. Two goblets and a jug of wine were waiting. ‘I thought you might need something to drink after your long day.’
Eadmund could smell the wine, and he didn’t want it. ‘Thank you,’ he said, taking a seat.
‘I was pleased with what I heard today,’ Draguta purred. ‘You and Jaeger might make a good team after all.’ She laughed at Eadmund’s scowling face. ‘Or perhaps not. But do remember that Jaeger is my heir, and I require him to sit on the throne of Hest. You will always do your best to protect him. And you will not kill him. One day, I’m sure, I will no longer have any need for him, but until then, he is mine.’
Eadmund nodded, deciding that he was too thirsty to ignore the wine, and he took a sip, trying not to grimace as it burned his throat. His mind wandered to Oss, and Ketil’s and sitting outside with Thorgils in the snow, listening to his stupid jokes. And he remembered what he had done to him.
And he blinked, feeling sick.
Draguta was talking. ‘We will be going to the stones tonight. And I want you there, Eadmund. I want you to watch.’
‘Stones?’
Draguta smiled. ‘Everything will become clearer once we get there, don’t worry. I promise you will enjoy what I have planned... or, at least, I will!’
Jael felt uncomfortable approaching Gisila’s door, hoping her mother wasn’t in her chamber.
She knocked quietly.
There was no reply, and Jael was quickly edging back into the corridor when she heard Gisila’s voice.
‘Come in.’
Taking a deep breath, and feeling her shoulders sag in resignation, Jael pushed open the door, hoping she wasn’t about to make everything worse. Talking to her mother never tended to go well.
Gisila was sitting on her bed, staring at the wall. At the tapestry on the wall. It had been Ranuf’s favourite. A gold and red, intricately embroidered scene of the Oster and Tuuran gods locked in a ferocious battle: powerful warriors with flowing hair, dragons and serpents, arrows flying, bursting flames and bloody death. It had been his grandfather’s, and Ranuf had loved it since he was a child. He would sit there even as a man and just stare at it, transfixed, always finding some detail he had never noticed before.
‘Did Gant send you?�
�
‘He did,’ Jael said, sitting on the bed.
‘I don’t see what you can say to make it any different.’
Jael could hear that her mother had been crying. ‘I don’t suppose I can. But he was worried. He didn’t mean to upset you.’
Gisila rounded on her. ‘But he knew, didn’t he? All those years, he knew. Gant betrayed me as much as your father did!’
‘Ranuf was his best friend. His king. How could he go and tell you what was going on without being disloyal? He wasn’t in an easy position.’
‘You’re going to defend both of them? That’s why you came?’ Gisila shook her head. ‘You may as well leave. I don’t want to hear it!’ She was agitated, wanting to rip the damn tapestry off the wall and feed it to the fire.
It wasn’t going well.
‘I don’t want to defend anyone,’ Jael said quietly. ‘I’m still mad myself. Still in shock. I didn’t come here to defend what Ranuf did because I can’t. But I can understand more about why he did it now that I’ve had some time to think. He wanted to protect Raymon. If anyone had found out, he would have been in danger. Perhaps from Hugo Vandaal himself? Perhaps from the very men who tried to kill him the other day? I imagine he thought it was the only choice he had.’
Gisila bit her tongue.
‘Though he could have told you.’
‘Well, he was obviously not as brave as he led us all to believe, was he?’ Gisila spat. ‘But he was a better liar than I ever imagined. Pretending that we were all a family. That we were his to care for. That he was fighting to keep us safe.’ Pain broke her voice.
They sat in silence. Confused. Seeing both sides. Seeing their own.
Not understanding and understanding at the same time.
Feeling betrayed.