The Raven's Warning

by A. E. Rayne

  Marcus peered at him. ‘Did you, now?’

  ‘I wasn’t sure I would be welcome,’ Aleksander tried.

  ‘Hanna hasn’t said anything to me, but I believe she was disappointed not to see you.’

  Aleksander struggled to find any words that would stop Marcus glaring at him. ‘I’ll come in the morning,’ he mumbled. ‘If you think that would be alright?’

  ‘It would.’ And nodding briefly, Marcus turned, looking for Entorp. ‘But not too early,’ he added over his shoulder. ‘She needs her sleep.’

  Karsten had been stuck in the cottage with Nicolene who was back to her sniping self, keeping an eye on her while Bayla went to the hall with Berard and Ulf. Eventually, Nicolene had closed her eyes, lulled to sleep by the dulcet moaning of the children.

  The servant had them all under control, so Karsten had slipped away before anyone missed him. He was hoping to talk to Rork and Thorgils again, to see what they could do about setting up another fight. There were a lot of contenders about the place that might be worth a go.

  He had seen Marcus striding away from his cottage, and stopping, Karsten turned towards it.

  Marcus’ servant wasn’t about to let him in, though. She was a short, wide woman with a hairy chin and she almost blocked the door, but Karsten heard a voice from within; a weak voice, to be sure, but a familiar one. And the servant stood aside with a grumble, letting him pass.

  Hanna smiled at him as he pulled over a stool.

  Karsten was amazed by how well she looked. ‘Been eating a lot, have you?’ he wondered with a grin.

  ‘Why do you say that?’ Hanna asked. She couldn’t get out of bed yet, but she was growing impatient, bored with no one to talk to but her father and their servant who wasn’t one for conversation.

  She was pleased to see Karsten.

  ‘Well, you almost have cheeks again. Last time I saw you, you looked a little like a dragur.’

  Hanna’s newly replenished cheeks revealed dimples he hadn’t noticed before. ‘I’m surprised to hear that, as all I’ve been eating is thin broth. Nothing but broth. I’ve been dreaming about roast chicken and dumplings.’

  ‘Well, I could bring you something back from the hall if you like?’ Karsten suggested, leaning forward to make sure the beady-eyed servant wasn’t listening.

  ‘I’m not sure my father would let you in,’ Hanna admitted. ‘Perhaps tomorrow? Roast chicken for breakfast would be nice.’ She yawned, suddenly exhausted.

  ‘I won’t stay long,’ Karsten promised. ‘I was just on my way to the hall. Everyone’s in there tonight, I think. Celebrating that we’re all still standing.’

  Hanna reached out and touched his arm. ‘Don’t go just yet, Karsten,’ she said. ‘I wanted to thank you.’ She took a deep breath, trying to find some reserves of energy. ‘I remember seeing you, in the storm. That’s the last thing I remember. My father said you took me to the hall. Took care of me when the dragon came down. I can’t believe I missed that.’

  Karsten adjusted his eyepatch. ‘Well, lucky I didn’t leave you where I found you, or you wouldn’t have missed it at all! It came down with a bang.’

  ‘So I hear. I’m sorry about Irenna. Your family has not had an easy time of it, have they? When I’m well enough, I want to come and see the children. Help with them, if you’d like?’

  Karsten shook his head. ‘You might need to be able to stand first. Five children can be a lot of work, just ask Bayla. With Nicolene being ill, she’s had her hands full.’

  Hanna smiled, closing her eyes. ‘I can imagine,’ she yawned.

  Karsten didn’t reply, and Hanna didn’t say another word, and eventually, he realised that she was asleep. So, nodding to the servant, who looked pleased to see the back of him, he took his leave and headed for the hall.

  Draguta had sent Brill to fetch Eadmund, which had taken some time as no one knew what had happened to him. Eventually, she had found him, dragging him out of his dreams of Jael, and now he walked away from the castle after Draguta and Meena, who were at the front of their little party. A sleepy-eyed Morac followed them with the drum, leaving Brill far at the back, struggling with two baskets.

  Having finally woken himself up, Eadmund waited for her, offering to take one. The smell emanating from the basket was eye-watering, and he gagged, holding it away from himself, inhaling some night air which was not as cool as he would have liked.

  Draguta strode on ahead of them, oblivious to everyone.

  She had seen how things stood, and now she was disappearing inside herself, connecting with her power, searching for any obstacles.

  She felt calm. Focused.

  Ready.

  Morana lay on her side, watching moonbeams flicker across the stone wall. Else was not asleep. She was fussing around the fire, banking it for the night after heating up water to make Morana another cup of Dragmall’s herbs. The woman was more useful than she had ever given her credit for, Morana realised.

  Those herbs had a chance of saving her.

  If only she could trust Meena. If only the twitching idiot wasn’t the key to it all. Relying on her to do anything was impossible, she knew, but Meena had to see that there was no way out of this mess without her help.

  She was the only one who could use the book to get rid of Draguta.

  Meena had to see that.

  Else cried out in surprise, not expecting the knock on the door. It was very late; well past time when anyone should have been walking around the castle. She edged towards the door, her heart hammering in her chest. ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Dragmall,’ came the hoarse whisper.

  Else unlocked the door and hurried Dragmall inside. He was dressed in a cloak, a leather bag slung over his shoulder. ‘What are you doing here? At this hour?’ she whispered, inclining her head towards the bed where Morana lay, not sleeping at all.

  Dragmall was struggling to catch his breath as he pulled the satchel over his head. ‘I have come... I have come to rescue Morana!’

  VI

  FRIENDS AND ENEMIES

  45

  Else had quickly helped Morana to sit up, and was now trying to put on her boots. Morana trembled with anticipation as she sat on the edge of the bed, her dark eye alert, willing them both to get on with it.

  Dragmall was kneeling on the flagstones, fumbling with a tiny jar; his fingers shaking too much to begin.

  ‘Draguta will see us!’ Else panicked. Even saying the woman’s name terrified her. ‘She will see what we’re doing!’

  ‘She has left the castle. Gone to the stones.’ Dragmall was telling Morana more than Else. ‘This is what time we have, so we must use it, and hope that she is too preoccupied to notice us.’

  Else closed her mouth, struggling to swallow, not sure what was going to happen. She finished Morana’s boots and spun around, searching for her cloak.

  Dragmall finally twisted the lid off the jar. ‘Water,’ he said. ‘I need water. Hurry, Else.’

  Morana wasn’t sure if she was even breathing. She had no idea what Dragmall knew; whether Meena had managed to tell him something or whether he had discovered the answer on his own, but she was suddenly worried that it wasn’t going to work.

  Else handed Dragmall the water jug, spilling some on him.

  He took it in both hands, pouring just a few dribbles into the jar, handing it back to her before twisting the lid back on and giving it a quick shake. ‘We must hurry,’ he muttered, almost to himself, worrying that he was far too old for such a terrifying ordeal; though there was more life behind him now than ahead of him. His time was nearly over.

  Better to have died fighting against the evil of Draguta Teros, even if it meant embracing the evil of Morana Gallas to do so.

  Jael found Aleksander on the ramparts. She grinned at him. ‘How did I know you’d be here?’

  He shrugged. ‘Because you’re a dreamer? Now I know how you always found me when I used to hide from you!’

  She laughed.

  ‘What
are you doing here?’

  ‘Couldn’t sleep,’ Jael yawned. ‘Although, maybe I didn’t want to sleep. Sometimes I can’t face the dreams.’

  It was a dark night, the moon covered in a dirty haze that Jael was sure was from the constant smoking from the dragur pyres. They were all ash now, she was relieved to see, but the stench of their blue corpses and the bitter taste of their burnt flesh remained.

  ‘And then there’s the worry of what’s coming next,’ Aleksander said, catching her yawn. ‘Hopefully, Edela can find some ways to protect us from Draguta.’

  Jael nodded, moving her hand to Toothpick, feeling the cool moonstone beneath her fingers. Her sword had given her confidence; made her believe that she had a chance of defeating Draguta. But now? ‘Mmmm, I don’t imagine Draguta will stay quiet for long. Not when she doesn’t have the Book of Aurea, or me.’

  ‘She might just wait until we’re out in the open. Our army, the Iskavallans...’

  Jael didn’t want to think about that.

  They had no choice but to leave the fort, and though they couldn’t risk being attacked at sea, going overland posed more danger than anyone was comfortable with. ‘Maybe we don’t go into the open at all?’ she mused. ‘Maybe we head into Hallow Wood? Work our way through there?’

  Aleksander blinked in surprise. ‘You’re keen for a repeat of that adventure, are you?’

  ‘There won’t be any dragur in there now, and maybe the gods will hide us? Keep us safe from Draguta?’ It was one thought, but Jael didn’t like the idea of going back into that wood again either.

  ‘I like your optimism,’ Aleksander laughed. The moon was bright for a moment, shrugging off its hazy cloak, and he stared into her eyes. ‘How are you?’

  Jael frowned, looking out over the valley. ‘I’m... standing. You?’

  ‘I’m confused.’

  ‘About?’

  ‘Too many things to tell you.’

  Jael was intrigued, but she didn’t push further, though she did feel a sudden urge to tell him something. ‘Edela broke the binding spell. Did she tell you?’

  ‘She did?’

  Jael nodded. ‘Eadmund is free from Evaine. Finally.’

  ‘But?’ Aleksander could hear it in her voice.

  ‘He’s bound to Draguta too, and that’s not something Edela can undo at all. Not yet, at least.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘But he isn’t Evaine’s. After all this time, he isn’t Evaine’s.’

  Aleksander could hear the relief in Jael’s voice; her desperation to be with Eadmund again.

  Perhaps he wasn’t so confused after all...

  Amma could tell that Axl wasn’t asleep.

  He usually sounded like a blowing horse, but tonight he was silent and still. He didn’t even appear to be breathing. Amma couldn’t sleep herself; it was becoming a bad habit she had fallen into since the dragon attack. She kept waiting for something to land on the hall. She kept sniffing for smoke, which was pointless, she knew, as the entire fort stunk of nothing but smoke.

  Reaching out, Amma placed her hand on Axl’s chest and edged towards him.

  ‘I thought you were asleep,’ he murmured.

  She smiled, closing her eyes. ‘I’m better at pretending than you are.’

  ‘Is that right? Not sure I wanted to know that,’ he grinned, wrapping his arm around her, feeling her snuggle in closer. ‘Why can’t you sleep?’

  Amma sighed. ‘I’m just scared. Wondering what will attack us next.’

  Axl didn’t blame her. Knowing you had an enemy in Hest or on Oss was a different feeling than knowing your enemy had arms that could reach right into your fort while you slept. ‘Soon we’ll attack them,’ Axl tried to reassure her, though he didn’t feel confident about how that attack would go. ‘And they will die. All of Draguta’s monsters. Just like the dragur did. Draguta too. And when I kill Jaeger Dragos, I’ll come home and marry you.’

  The thought of that made Amma both happy and sad.

  But mostly, she felt scared.

  She propped herself up on an elbow. ‘Promise me you will. Promise that won’t risk your life. I want you to come home, Axl. I don’t want to hear songs sung about how brave you were. How you sacrificed yourself. How you were a hero. I want to be sitting next to you while they sing about others. Not you.’

  Axl pulled her back down, kissing her, feeling her tears against his cheek. ‘I promise,’ he said.

  And he meant it.

  Sometimes Draguta missed Morana Gallas.

  Her niece was a dithering idiot who moved as quickly as a snail. There was no urgency about the girl at all. At this rate, it would be dawn before they began.

  ‘Well, which one is it?’ Draguta barked as Meena looked from one bowl to the other. She had placed them both on the ground by the sacrifice stone where Draguta stood, waiting, one hand on the book, ready to begin.

  It was a still night, which surprised her. And despite the thick clouds, she couldn’t feel the gods coming. But she could feel a burning impatience that rose up into her throat, ready to explode.

  ‘This one,’ Meena decided, at last, bending to pick up the bowl on the left.

  Brill was beside her and Draguta flapped her hands at both of them. ‘Well, go on, then. You don’t need me to tell you what to do!’

  Brill followed Meena, trying not to let her eyes wander to the large stone shadows looming in the darkness, like giant spirits coming to claim them.

  Eadmund stood back from the fire, away from the flames that flickered brightly thanks to the absence of any wind. He took the copper cup that Brill had dipped into the bowl and handed to him, noticing the symbols etched around its rim. They reminded him of the ones on the leather strap. Lifting the cup to his lips, he was immediately aware that this was what he’d been smelling in the basket. Draguta eyed him as she walked past with the other bowl, and he threw the liquid down his throat, trying not to vomit it straight back up.

  Meena worked to keep her mind clear as she held the bowl, watching while Brill gave Morac a cup.

  ‘There’s no need for him to have it!’ Draguta snapped from where she was drawing her circle with her knife. ‘Give Meena a cup and then come and help me!’

  Morac looked relieved as he tapped nervously on the drum, making eye contact with Eadmund who frowned at him before turning back to the fire.

  Meena swallowed the rancid potion, spluttering and gagging but managing to keep it down. Brill left her to run after Draguta, and Meena found her mind wandering back to the castle.

  She quickly tried to focus again, walking towards the basket of herbs.

  Soon, she knew, it would be time to begin.

  ‘Put on your boots, Else,’ Dragmall whispered. ‘Take what you can stuff into a bag. Anything you have to eat. Get your cloak. Gather your things. If it works, we’ll have to run. Draguta will not be gone for long. And she may not need to come back to discover what we’ve done.’

  Morana sat up straighter.

  Else’s guts were griping, and she needed to use the chamber pot, but she nodded and tried to concentrate on doing the simple tasks Dragmall had given her.

  Dragmall looked up at Morana. ‘I do not trust you,’ he admitted. ‘But this is a risk I will take, and I hope, in return, you will protect both Else and myself from whatever is coming.’

  Morana couldn’t nod, but she wanted to. She could blink, though, and she did.

  ‘Well, then,’ Dragmall said, ‘I suppose nothing is stopping us now.’ And he picked up the jar into which he had scraped some of Draguta’s blood from her seeing circles, using the water to make a bloody paste, and he began to paint the symbol onto Morana’s forehead. He would paint it on the flagstones also. But to be sure, he wanted to draw it on Morana herself.

  And taking a deep breath, Dragmall started to chant.

  He knew Tuuran. His mother had taught it to him – the language of the old gods too – though it had been so long since he had spoken the words out loud that they sound
ed unfamiliar, and Dragmall suddenly worried that he had it all wrong.

  Morana held her breath, feeling the watery blood run down her forehead, onto her face. She closed her eyes, praying to Raemus that Dragmall would free her.

  And quickly.

  Draguta tried to calm down. Her irritation with Meena had disrupted her thoughts, and her focus had drifted, but everything had to work together, and she needed to be at the centre of it all.

  It would not help if her mind was scattered.

  Taking a deep breath as she stood before the fire which bloomed in the middle of her circle, she inhaled the fragrant smoke, shutting a door on every other distraction. Closing her eyes, Draguta felt the darkness still her mind. She could sense the book nearby, its desire to be released coursing in her veins.

  Her body started throbbing.

  A singular, pulsing sensation that awakened every part of her. And opening her eyes, Draguta dug into the purse which hung from her belt, pulling out a large, yellowish fang. Dipping it into the bowl of bloody potion before her, she listened as the beat of the drum, and the humming of her body melded into one harmonious vibration. And leaning towards the earth, she started to draw a symbol.

  Gant didn’t want to leave. Gisila wasn’t asleep, he knew, but perhaps she wanted him to go? He turned to face her, smiling. Even after all these years, she still took his breath away. He brushed strands of dark, silvery hair out of her eyes. ‘Should I leave?’ he whispered, leaning so close that he appeared more ready to kiss her than go anywhere.

  Gisila looked confused. ‘Why would you leave? Do you have things to do?’

  He smiled.

  So did she as she kissed him. ‘I would rather you didn’t leave. This bed has been very empty lately.’