by A. E. Rayne
‘We will leave you now,’ Irenna smiled, glancing at Nicolene, who appeared thoroughly bored. ‘Unless you need something else?’
‘No,’ Amma said blankly. ‘Thank you.’ Her ears were buzzing, and she was barely aware of anything except the overwhelming urge to throw herself into the sea.
Irenna nodded and hurried Nicolene away.
Lothar clasped Amma’s shaking hands in his sweaty ones. ‘Are you ready, then, my daughter?’ he smiled.
She wanted to recoil from his touch, and his eyes, which were cold and unsympathetic and did not match his smiling face at all. ‘Yes,’ she said faintly.
‘Good, then let’s get you married! I’m sure that your husband is eager to get you into the marriage bed!’ He put his arm around her waist, his face suddenly serious. ‘Now, heed my words, Amma. For your own safety, you must ensure that you do everything you can to keep your husband happy. You are there for his pleasure and his pleasure alone. Remember that, and you will have a long and productive marriage!’
Amma gulped and allowed her father to lead her through the door.
Jael turned as Amma walked into the hall on Lothar’s arm. She looked beautifully sad, but Eadmund didn’t appear to notice. He stood beside Jael, his face completely blank as he stared straight ahead.
Bayla glared at the small cluster of musicians who were plucking away on lyre and harp. They were playing a sad, haunting melody that did little to enliven the dour mood in the hall. It was as though everyone could feel Amma’s sadness growing with every step she took towards Jaeger.
Perhaps they knew what would happen to her, Jael frowned, uncomfortable with the ceremony and the pretence. She thought of Sea Bear, and her desire to be free again was palpable; to go home to Oss and see Thorgils, Edela and Biddy... Tig and the puppies.
Jael felt a burst of worry that Ivaar might be there, destroying them all.
Thorgils waved at Biddy and Entorp as he hurried into the gatehouse. It was a clear day, and he needed to be up on the walls, scanning the horizon. He’d been out on Leada as soon as the sun was up, riding the cliffs, checking the new lookouts he was having built. Men were constructing large towers of sticks and logs that could be quickly set alight in warning, all the way down to the headland, past where Fyn’s hut in the hill sat. He had ridden to every side of the island, looking for any sign of Ivaar and his ships; any sign that they were under attack.
But he saw nothing.
Biddy smiled at him as she rushed past. She had gathered nearly everything Edela needed, but she didn’t have mugwort. Entorp was taking her to a place where they might find a small supply.
‘I will help if you like,’ Entorp said as he hurried along beside her. ‘Tonight. Edela is weak. As much strength as she thinks she has, her illness has lessened her power.’
Biddy looked worried but knew that he was right. Edela had not recovered her colour yet. She was still too pale, still tired too easily. ‘Do you have a drum?’ Biddy wondered. ‘I am supposed to look for that as well.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Entorp smiled wistfully. ‘I helped Eydis’ mother, Rada, dream walk sometimes. And perform other rituals. I suppose I was her assistant in many ways.’
Biddy felt relieved to think that he was going to be there. It needed to work. She couldn’t have anything happen to Jael.
Meena stood outside the door, chewing on her barely-there fingernails.
They were all at the wedding, she knew, as she shuffled about, crouching before the handle, reaching her hand up, then pulling it away, her eyes darting up and down the corridor. But it wasn’t fear that was stopping her.
It was uncertainty.
There were three choices. Three people. Each one of them seeking her loyalty. Demanding it, threatening her for it.
But ultimately, Meena knew, there was only one person she could ever be truly loyal to.
Taking a deep breath, she turned the handle and creaked open the door.
VI
Darkness
43
Jaeger supposed that a wife wouldn’t be such a bad addition to his bed, especially one as mesmerising as Amma Furyck. He took her hand, his eyes full of interest, watching as she stood, shivering before him in Nicolene’s dress, which, he noted, fitted her perfectly.
The volka, Dragmall, the wisest, most venerable man in Hest, wrapped a slippery, white ribbon around their clasped hands and began his wailing, shaking cry to the gods, calling on them to give their blessing to this noble union.
Jaeger watched Amma’s eyes fill with tears as they tried so desperately to avoid his. She reminded him of Elissa; so fearful and timid. He smiled; like Meena too. Was he truly so frightening? He thought of Meena, and his body stirred unexpectedly. She was no beauty. Neither her filthy body nor her odd face excited him, but he was intrigued by what they could achieve together.
With the book.
Power. That was exciting. To both of them, he thought. The idea that they could destroy the ones who had sought to control them. If only he could be certain of her loyalty. He needed her, but did she need him?
Jaeger turned impatiently to Dragmall, who looked even more ancient than Varna as he creaked and rasped before them, reaching the end of his crying plea. ‘... to bless this marriage between the noble Prince Jaeger, son of Haaron, he who was born from the mighty Valder Dragos, and the virtuous Princess Amma, daughter of Lothar Furyck, he who was born from Furia, Goddess of War...’
Amma wanted her hand back. She hated the suffocating feel of his. It gripped hers with such force, as though he was trying to crush her, impose his will upon her. His mark.
His ownership.
The dress was so tight that she could barely breathe and she kept having visions of Axl throwing himself onto Jaeger, stabbing his sword through his heart. Amma blinked, unsure where to look. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her; could imagine Osbert’s gleeful little face as he watched his revenge play out just as he had planned. But she couldn’t give him the satisfaction.
She wouldn’t.
Amma swallowed, looked up into Jaeger’s eyes, and smiled.
Edela had put herself to bed as soon as Biddy had hurried away with Entorp. She knew that sleep would increase her strength and she was desperate to find any further clues about what was happening with Jael.
Overcome with panic, it had taken her some time to find a sense of peace, a way into the clouds to search for her granddaughter.
But when she got there, she saw fire.
Axl stood between Gant and Aleksander, watching Amma from a place far removed from himself. She was shaking, he could tell, but he would not let himself react because he could do nothing; nothing except get himself killed. And he couldn’t save Amma if he was dead. He held onto that one undeniable fact; the only thing tethering him to reason.
Axl thought of his father, trying to focus on Ranuf’s hard, emotionless face. It had been nearly three years since his death now, and he struggled to remember much of him at all apart from that look on his face. It had always stayed the same. He had laughed with his men, smiled at his wife, but around his children, Ranuf’s face had remained serious, stern, never warm. Jael insisted it was because he had been determined to teach them how to survive, how to be Furycks, to lead their people, protect their family, honour their name. Axl had wanted more than lessons, though. He had wanted an arm around his shoulder and a joke and some fun. But now, when he looked back to that face, as his father rode off to battle with his sister, he saw what it had truly meant. It had been a wall around his father’s heart. Nothing had been more important to Ranuf than protecting his family. His life hadn’t been about what he wanted, or his own desires. As a father, a husband and a king, it had been his job to keep the people he loved safe.
Axl clenched his fists at his sides, his jaw pulsing, his eyes focusing on Amma. She was his family, and she was in danger. He had to save her.
Somehow.
Evaine couldn’t have been happier as she hurried home. She had
bought herself a beautiful amber necklace with Morac’s silver. Eadmund would like it, she smiled to herself, feeling a peace that had been missing for some time. She felt confident that the spell was working again; that Eadmund would come home to her and Sigmund.
Soon.
And without Eirik, he would have the power to let them stay. No one would be able to remove her now, not when Eadmund was king and Eadmund loved her.
She stopped suddenly, frowning, watching as Biddy and Entorp scurried towards Eadmund’s house, their heads together, carrying a full basket and a drum. Evaine felt a sense of unease tighten her shoulders. Did they know they had been discovered? Were they trying to stop her again? To find another way to break her spell?
Had Edela seen something in her dreams?
She hurried on, desperate to get back to the house and find Morana’s book. There had to be a spell in there that would take care of their interference once and for all.
Lothar clapped Osbert on the back, congratulating them both on such a well-executed plan. Somehow, between them, they had managed to avoid death, strike a powerful alliance, and gain Amma a royal husband, all within a few days. He felt elated.
Osbert appeared less impressed as he turned to his father, offering him a cup of mead. ‘My sister must change her face if she wants to please her husband,’ he said quietly. ‘No man wishes to marry a wailing child.’
‘Oh, and that is your advice, is it?’ Lothar laughed. ‘Advice from a man who has no wife at all!’ Osbert was right, of course, but he didn’t care. Amma was married now, and it was her husband’s place to discipline her. ‘Gisila!’ he cried, spying his wife crossing the hall with Axl. ‘Gisila!’
Gisila turned with a heavy sigh, fixing a smile on her face as she approached them, Axl following miserably in her wake.
‘I was very impressed with how well Amma looked, very impressed indeed, my love. Her husband seemed pleased too,’ Lothar murmured, leaning forward to kiss his wife’s cheek.
Axl bit his tongue.
‘And you, my step-son,’ he growled. ‘We will need to find you a wife next. You and Osbert, both. It is time we had Furyck heirs, wouldn’t you say? Although,’ Lothar smiled, glancing around, ‘I think that Osbert already has his eye on someone, isn’t that right?’ He nudged a clearly irritated Osbert, who had not been aware that his interest in Keyta, the daughter of a Kalmeran lord, had garnered so much attention.
‘I hardly think so, Father,’ Osbert insisted dismissively. ‘There is simply little else to do while we wait to leave.’
‘But she is a rare beauty,’ Lothar noted. ‘And her father is extremely wealthy, from what Haaron tells me. Let us at least go and meet the man.’ He nodded to Osbert, who looked completely reluctant to move his feet at all. ‘Gisila?’
‘Perhaps it is better left to you, my love,’ she said sweetly, batting her eyelashes at him. ‘I think I must go and find Queen Bayla, to congratulate her on the ceremony.’
‘Of course, of course,’ Lothar muttered. ‘A good idea. But then again, you are a very experienced queen, aren’t you?’ And smiling to himself, he led Osbert away.
‘How are you?’ Gisila whispered to Axl as soon as they were out of earshot. ‘You have not said a word all day.’ She recognised the stern look on his face. She remembered it well. It was Ranuf’s.
‘I’m just ready to go home, Mother,’ Axl said quietly. He leaned forward to kiss her cheek, then whispered in her ear. ‘We cannot plan our next move until we are away from here, can we?’
He stepped back and took a goblet from the tray of a passing slave.
Gisila watched his eyes as they roamed the room, desperately seeking Amma, she knew. She reached down and squeezed his hand, giving him a sympathetic smile. ‘Well, go and disappear for a while then. There is time before the feast is served, I’m sure.’
Axl caught Fyn’s eye; he looked desperate to escape too. ‘I think that sounds like a good idea.’ He smiled at his mother and walked over to Fyn, almost knocking into Nicolene as he tried to squeeze past her and Karsten.
Karsten glared at Axl, who completely ignored him and carried on walking. ‘I’ll be glad to see the back of those fucking Furycks,’ he muttered to his wife, whose eyes were on Jaeger as he pressed himself against his new bride. Karsten looked around the hall, watching as Haegen and Berard chatted happily with Jael Furyck. His brothers were too eager to play nice with the bitch.
If he had his way, she’d be ash.
Jael could feel Karsten’s eye piercing through the crowd, aiming for her. She didn’t acknowledge him, though, happy to keep him in a constant state of irritation. Jael frowned instead, trying to ignore her own building irritation.
Eadmund.
He stood next to her, smiling as he spoke with Berard and Haegen, but everything about him had changed. He didn’t look towards her, and his body stayed well apart from hers, frozen and removed. He was entirely disinterested in her again.
‘I imagine you cannot wait to leave,’ Berard said quietly to Jael as Haegen and Eadmund shared a joke.
‘Well,’ Jael began, then paused, watching as Amma cringed away from Jaeger’s attempts at intimacy. ‘I suppose so.’
Berard followed her eyes, noting her concern. ‘Your cousin will get used to us, I’m sure,’ he insisted. ‘Irenna is very nice. She will make her feel part of the family.’
Jael wasn’t convinced that that was something to be happy about. ‘If only she could have married you instead,’ she whispered to him. ‘It would have felt easier to leave.’
Berard blushed from the compliment, smiling awkwardly. ‘Oh, well... I am the last one who will have a wife, it seems,’ he said shyly. ‘But I suppose I must, soon.’
‘Do your father’s dreamers see that?’ Jael wondered slyly. ‘That you are to marry soon?’
Berard looked confused. ‘Dreamers? My father only has the one.’
‘Oh.’ Jael shook her head. ‘I’m certain I’ve met more than one. A strange girl with wild red hair and another woman, maybe her mother, with black and white hair? They all look much the same.’
Berard was puzzled. ‘Well, perhaps you met Meena? She is Varna’s granddaughter. But she is no dreamer that I know of.’ He smiled to himself. Despite her curiosities, Berard had always been fascinated by Meena Gallas. She had noticed him, and would often smile at him, or at least she had until Jaeger started paying attention to her. He frowned. ‘But the woman with... black and white hair? I do not know of anyone like that.’
Jael was puzzled. She had not eaten in far too long and felt sick because of it. She needed to eat, though, or she wouldn’t be able to think. If the dreamers wanted to hurt her, they would find a way. But she wasn’t about to keep starving herself while she waited to find out. ‘Berard,’ she murmured in his ear. ‘Can you show me to your kitchen?’
‘What will you tell her?’ Biddy wondered as she ladled cabbage soup into Edela’s bowl. ‘What can she do?’
Edela felt terrible and not hungry at all. Her stomach lurched as she remembered her dreams, which had been fraught with darkness and fire. She could feel a threat weaving its way through them, and it terrified her. ‘Jael will know what to do,’ she said confidently. ‘If she can leave, she will leave. If she can kill her, she will kill her.’
‘If you can get through to her,’ Biddy mumbled morosely, handing Edela her bowl.
‘I will,’ Edela said firmly as she glanced over to the fire where they had laid out their preparations. ‘But we must wait and hope that Morana does nothing before I can reach her.’
Jael was ravenous as she looked around the enormous kitchen.
Two fires burned under expansive stone chimneys, a wild boar turning over one, a goat on the other, and a pig over the open fire in the middle of the room. It smelled of so many good things that Jael’s senses were utterly overwhelmed.
Berard watched as her eyes widened. ‘There will be food served in the hall,’ he reminded her diplomatically.
‘I know
,’ she smiled. ‘But I cannot wait.’ Jael was tempted to tell Berard about her fears, but she didn’t know him. Despite his kind face and awkward gait, he was a Dragos, loyal to Haaron, to Hest, and perhaps, loyal to Jaeger most of all.
‘Well, then,’ Berard smiled shyly. ‘You should help yourself. Being a queen, I think that it would be entirely appropriate.’
Jael wasn’t listening, though. She was already hurrying towards the long table stacked with platters of roasted vegetables and legs of glistening meat; her lips wet with anticipation.
Amma turned to her goblet. Perhaps wine was the only escape possible? She reached for it, sipping on the cool liquid. It burned her throat with its sharp intensity; so strong that she grimaced.
‘Is it not to your taste, lady?’ Jaeger asked, amused.
Amma blinked and swallowed. ‘It is, not... what I am used to,’ she said quietly, not wishing to offend the queen, who sat on her other side.
‘Well, I’m sure you will get used to it, over time,’ Jaeger grinned, raising his own goblet to his lips. ‘All the Dragos wives are very fond of the wine in Hest. Though, perhaps that says more about their husbands than the quality of my father’s grapes?’
Amma didn’t smile at his joke. She was barely listening as she took another gulp, her arms and legs tingling now, and happily so. She wanted to drift away so that she didn’t have to feel a thing, for she knew how it would be when he took her to his bed.
Jael laughed and drained her cup of wine, enjoying herself.
They had made room for themselves on a table near the pantry, mostly out of the way, deciding that there was little point in returning to the hall when they could eat here in peace, without the need for forced conversations with complete strangers.
‘Tell me, Berard,’ Jael said as she pushed her plate away, finally full. She pulled her stool closer to his, aware that the cooks were still rushing about, sending trays into the hall. ‘What does your brother want? Surely he is not content to remain the fourth son? Not a man like him.’ Her eyes were sharp, but Berard’s were bleary, having quickly drained two jugs of wine since he’d sat down. ‘He must have his own ambitions for the throne?’