by A. E. Rayne
‘No,’ Jael insisted again. ‘I don’t want to be!’
‘But you see things, don’t you? In your dreams?’
Jael hesitated, the crease between her big green eyes deepening. ‘No. I’m not a dreamer, Grandmother. That is not what I’m meant to be. I’m meant to be a warrior. That is what they say.’
Edela held her breath. ‘Who? Who says that?’
‘The gods,’ Jael whispered. ‘They tell me that I will be a great warrior, that I will save everyone. They come to me... in my dreams.’ She looked around guiltily.
‘Ahhh, so you have dreams, then?’ Edela chortled.
‘Everyone has dreams, Grandmother.’
‘Not everyone my darling...’
Tears filled Amma’s eyes as she turned her head to the side, desperate not to see him, to see what he was doing to her; to catch the look of pleasure on his face that she knew was there. She wanted to disappear into the darkness, to imagine herself so far away, away from him, from the pain she could feel as he pushed himself deeper inside her.
It hurt.
He didn’t notice as he moaned, bending down to kiss her, turning her face back towards him. She was such a pretty little thing, he thought, admiring his new wife; such a delicate, soft, pretty thing. A lady. A princess. And one day, a queen. Lovely and certainly desirable; her curvaceous body was an endless delight of pleasing sights. He closed his eyes, increasing his rhythm, seeing Meena’s face as she gasped and groaned beneath him.
He opened his eyes in surprise, panting, confused.
Excited.
Gisila cried out as he slapped her, hard across the face. He was drunk, which made him mean, she knew, but never violent.
Not like this.
Lothar was furious, seething with a jealous rage, remembering every look, every touch she had ever given Gant; every time he had caught them together.
He had seen it all.
‘So, tell me about Gant, Wife!’ he snapped. ‘Tell me what you have been up to behind my back?’
Gisila held her face, glancing at the door. She felt unsafe, desperate to leave. ‘Nothing, of course,’ she swallowed. ‘He was Ranuf’s man, a loyal man to our family. They were close friends, like brothers. He cares for Axl. That’s all.’
‘Cares for Axl?’ Lothar spat. ‘Why? Why should he care for that pathetic boy? Why, Gisila?’ he growled. ‘Something you failed to tell Ranuf? Is he Axl’s father?’ He grabbed her arm, yanking her towards him so that her face, already swelling where he’d slapped her, was nearly touching his. ‘Tell me!’ he yelled.
Gisila shook her head furiously. ‘No! No, of course not!’ she cried. ‘How could you think such a thing?’
Lothar pinched her arm harder. ‘Ranuf never liked the boy, did he? Not like Jael. He barely even noticed him from what I heard, so maybe there was a reason. Maybe he knew the truth all along? That you were just a whore!’ He pushed her backwards, onto the bed, and lunged at her.
Edela hurried to find Jael. She had a sense that there was not much time.
It was different than her last dream walk. She felt weak, unable to hold onto the trance tightly enough, to be truly in the dream. But as she rushed along, she saw her granddaughter standing in a vast, empty square, filled with endless grey cobblestones, a huge castle towering behind her under a full moon.
‘Jael!’ Edela called as she rushed towards her.
Jael didn’t turn around.
Edela followed her gaze towards Eadmund, who stood in a ship, drifting slowly away from the piers, turning from her without any warmth in his eyes at all. Jael watched him go, not moving. ‘Jael!’ Edela tried again, reaching her, grabbing her hand.
‘Grandmother!’ Jael pulled her close, embracing her. ‘Is everything alright? Has something happened?’
Edela was breathless, feeling weaker by the moment. ‘I, I,’ she tried, stumbling as Jael caught her. ‘I came to warn you. You are in terrible danger here! You must leave right away!’
Axl had not calmed down at all on the walk back to their chamber. It was deathly quiet; barely anyone was around now, and he could feel his heart throbbing furiously in his chest, Osbert’s words ringing in his ears. He felt enraged, ready to vomit, fighting the overwhelming urge to rush upstairs and rescue Amma.
‘Let it go,’ Aleksander grumbled again, pushing him firmly in the direction of their chamber. ‘He is not worth you risking Amma’s life for, is he? You do something foolish, and she is the one who will suffer. You won’t be able to save her if you get yourself killed,’ he whispered hoarsely.
Fyn wished he hadn’t drunk so much as he staggered along next to them, his head foggy and his legs unsteady as he tried to help Aleksander shepherd Axl in the right direction.
There was a slap, and a scream and all three heads snapped to the left.
Aleksander let go of Axl’s arm, and they raced for the door.
Axl threw open the door, his eyes bulging in horror as he took in the scene.
Gisila on the bed, naked, face down, bloody.
Lothar, belt in hand, standing over her.
Axl couldn’t move.
Aleksander raced past him, grabbing Lothar’s belt out of his hand, shoving him away from Gisila.
Fyn hurried into the room and quickly shut the door behind them all. He wondered if he should get Jael.
Aleksander grabbed Gisila, pulling her off the bed as Lothar lunged for them both.
‘Get away from my wife!’ he cried in a blind rage.
‘You will not touch her!’ Aleksander growled violently, clasping Gisila to his chest. She was shaking, too terrified to speak. ‘I am taking her. You will not fucking touch her! Axl!’ he called, not taking his eyes off Lothar. ‘We need to go! The king needs to calm himself down. Fyn, find something for Gisila to put on. We need to go!’
‘Axl!’ Fyn cried. ‘No!’
Lothar turned to Axl, who swung back his sword, and, gritting his teeth until he felt they would break, brought the sharp blade scything towards the man who had taken everything from his family.
And with it, he took off his head.
Gisila screamed. Aleksander clamped his hand over her mouth.
Fyn was too shocked to speak.
Lothar’s headless body folded on top of itself, flopping onto the floor with a thunderous slap. His head rolled under the bed, a thick trail of blood smearing across the flagstones after it.
Axl stood, holding the bloody blade, his arm shaking.
Aleksander blinked himself back into the room, his heart racing, his mind steadying itself quickly. ‘Axl, put your sword into its scabbard. We need to go.’ He looked around the room. ‘Fyn, go and get Jael. Tell her that we need to leave. Quietly. Axl, help me hide Lothar.’ Aleksander took Gisila to the bed. ‘Gisila, you must get dressed. Hurry now. We have to leave. Put on a dress. A cloak. Your boots. Quickly. Jael will come.’
Gisila sat on the bed too numb to move.
45
‘You mean the dreamers?’ Jael asked. ‘I have seen them here. Three of them, or maybe two. They want me dead. I know that. Are they working to control Eadmund?’
‘Eadmund?’ Edela looked puzzled. ‘What has happened to Eadmund?’
‘He was free, set free from whatever Evaine had done to him,’ Jael sighed. ‘But it all changed today. He has gone again.’
That was a surprise.
Edela frowned. ‘I will make it right, do not worry about that. We will free Eadmund again. But right now, it’s you we must be worried about. You must leave Hest. Morana Gallas is there, trying to kill you!’
Jael looked confused; then realisation dawned as she thought of the black and white haired woman. She gripped Edela’s hands tightly. ‘Yes, she is.’
Edela felt strange, as though she was slipping away. ‘Jael! Please, you must listen... there is more. It’s about the book...’
‘Jael! Jael!’
Jael blinked, disoriented. Fyn?
She turned away from Edela, looking for him, but
he wasn’t there, and when she turned back around, her grandmother had gone.
‘Jael!’
Fyn was there, and she was sitting up with her knife in her hand, and Eadmund was beside her and Eydis was hurrying out of her bed.
‘You must come! We have to leave. Now! Axl has killed your uncle. Aleksander sent me. He said we have to leave!’
‘Edela?’
Biddy and Entorp hurried to help her onto the bed. She was shuddering, murmuring, weak and limp. Entorp lifted her under the furs as Biddy rushed to open the door to free the house from the suffocating smoke. She poured a cup of water and brought it back to the bed, stumbling slightly, her head thoroughly muddled. ‘Edela? Would you like a drink?’
Edela’s eyes fluttered open.
‘Did you see her?’ Biddy wondered urgently. ‘Is she alright?’
Edela coughed, struggling to speak. ‘I...’ She sunk deeper into the pillow. ‘Jael disappeared. Something happened. Something is wrong. Something terrible is wrong!’
Gant was there when they arrived, ashen-faced, but wide awake, calm, and fully-dressed.
Jael glanced down at the blood on the floor. ‘Fyn, cover that with a fur,’ she ordered, glancing at the headless body.
The head.
Both of which had been stuffed under the bed. ‘We need to go.’
They all looked at her.
Jael had dressed in her mail, filling her belt with every weapon she had to hand, as had Eadmund. They were both wearing their cloaks. Her head was clear, but her body was unusually warm, too warm. ‘Fyn, go with Eadmund.’ She stared at Eadmund. ‘You need to find the men. Get them onto the ships. Get the oars in.’ Her mind ran through what was on their ships, what weapons they had, which piers Haaron’s remaining ships were moored to. ‘We’ll need a fire. We have to burn their ships so they can’t follow us. Grab a torch.’
Eadmund nodded at Jael. ‘Good luck. We’ll be waiting.’ He tightened his sword belt, his fingers fumbling as he stared at her. ‘Don’t be long.’
Jael pushed Eydis towards Gisila. ‘Mother, your only job is to hold onto Eydis. She needs you. And I need you to keep her safe. Do you understand me?’ she asked, staring at her mother who was in total and complete shock, one eye completely swollen shut, the other not focusing at all as she shivered beneath her cloak. ‘Eydis, don’t make a sound. Just follow Gisila. Hold her hand and don’t let go.’
Eydis nodded quickly.
‘What about Amma?’ Axl asked. ‘We can’t leave her.’
‘Yes, we can,’ Gant said firmly. ‘You will die trying to get up there and back again with her. We can’t risk it. We need to leave.’ He scanned the room as Aleksander poked his head around the door, nodding to them. ‘We’re going, Axl, and you are going to listen to your sister now. And that is all, do you understand me?’
Axl appeared ready to argue but nodded mutely, fighting every sinew in his body that was urging him to run upstairs and kill Jaeger Dragos.
Jael reached down, picking up Lothar’s sword belt, her father’s sword tucked into its scabbard. She wrapped it around her waist, buckling it above her own belt. Shifting the scabbard over to the left, and with one hand on each sword, she nodded to Aleksander. ‘Let’s go.’
Eadmund and Fyn walked down the long, straight corridor towards the entrance of the castle. Moonlight shone at the very end of the darkened passageway, so they knew that the castle doors were still open. It had been a long day of feasting, and drunken guests had been wandering in and out as they liked. Eadmund couldn’t remember seeing a lot of guards on duty. But they would be there, he was certain.
They walked towards the wide foyer that bridged the entrance to the hall and the beginning of the stairs. It was completely empty.
Almost.
Eadmund snatched at Fyn’s arm as Osbert and his woman sauntered into view, stumbling towards them, drunkenly tangled around each other. He flattened Fyn back against the stone wall, trying to calm his breathing.
Osbert was about to walk straight into everybody.
Eadmund took a deep breath and pushed Fyn out into the foyer, swaying, leaning on his shoulder. ‘Ahhh, there is Osbert, little Osbert!’ he slurred. ‘Looking for a bed, are you? Well, maybe we could offer you Axl’s? He’s feeling very lonely tonight. Come on, Fyn,’ he grumbled, turning Fyn around and heading back the way they had come. ‘I need to find my wife! Have you seen my wife?’ he asked loudly, his head lolling around towards Osbert.
Osbert cringed, his face contorting in disgust at his cousin’s mess of a husband. He turned to Keyta. ‘I think there are other places we could go,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘Your chamber, perhaps?’
She smiled, nodding dreamily, and grabbing Osbert’s hand, led him towards the stairs, neither one looking back.
‘Wait!’ Jael hissed as they followed her to the door. She could hear Eadmund. ‘Wait....’ The voices drifted away. ‘Mother, put your head out.’
Gisila hurried to the door and slowly creaked it open. She looked down the corridor, but there was no one there apart from Fyn and Eadmund, disappearing into the distance. ‘They have gone,’ she whispered, ducking back inside. ‘I can’t see anyone else.’
Jael took a deep breath. ‘We cannot run,’ she said to them. ‘We need to look as though we are just going to find... something to eat. Slowly,’ she insisted. ‘I’ll take Mother and Eydis.’ She turned to Aleksander, Axl, and Gant. ‘Give us a chance to get out of the castle and then follow. Head for the piers, but avoid the square. Stay out of sight wherever you can.’
Axl nodded mutely.
‘And get your knives out. Kill anyone you have to. Quietly. We cannot be discovered.’
Fyn followed Eadmund as they slipped down the steps and across the front of the castle. He held his breath, too afraid to even blink. Clouds were rushing across the moon, and he wished they would submerge it entirely.
He was certain they would be seen.
Eadmund held up his hand as a man stepped out of the shadows. A guard. He looked around. Only one, but he was standing right in their path. There was no way around him.
Turning to Fyn, he put a finger to his lips and slid his knife slowly from its scabbard. He crouched along the thick wall of the castle, keeping as close to it as possible, his boots silent on the cobblestones.
Eadmund turned again, instructing Fyn to stay, then crept up behind the man as he stood there, swaying slightly under an unwelcome burst of moonlight. He was pissing, Eadmund realised as he heard a sudden stream of fluid splash against the cobblestones.
He threw one hand over the guard’s mouth and rushed his knife across his throat, dropping his jerking body to the ground, kicking him into the shadows. Motioning to Fyn to follow him, they hurried to the shed where he knew the Islanders were sleeping.
Varna groaned, crying out as she tried to move but her right side was locked in place, and she couldn’t shift herself. ‘Meena!’ she called urgently.
Morana sighed, furious to have been woken. ‘Be quiet,’ she grumbled, rolling over, away from the noise. ‘Go back to sleep, Mother!’
But Varna was not going back to sleep. ‘Meena!’ she called again. ‘Help me up! Quick girl! I must see the king!’
Jael and Gisila walked slowly down the middle of the corridor, approaching the entrance to the hall, Eydis between them.
Jael could feel Eydis shaking under her hand as she held onto her, staring straight ahead, listening for every sound. There were still people in the hall; she could hear the low rumble of drunken voices to her left.
‘Jael!’
They all froze, Gisila uttering a small, pained cry.
It was Berard, teetering towards them. He was so drunk that he appeared ready to topple over. He stared at Jael, confused. ‘Is it morning already?’ he slurred, his eyes drifting towards her companions. ‘Where are you going?’ He blinked at Gisila, concerned. ‘What happened to your face?’
Jael let go of Eydis’ hand and motioned for Gisila to take her
and carry on. She wrapped her arm around Berard’s hunched shoulders. ‘Berard,’ she smiled warmly. ‘Do you need some help, my friend? You look ready to fall down.’ She ushered him quickly towards the stairs. ‘Are you sure you can make it up those stairs on your own?’
His head swivelled around, looking after Gisila, then back to Jael. ‘But what’s wrong with your mother? Where are you going?’ He caught a glimpse of her mail, shimmering beneath her cloak. ‘And why are you dressed for battle?’
‘Oh, Eydis can’t sleep, not since her father was murdered,’ Jael explained softly, quickly. ‘And her cries woke my mother, so now she can’t sleep either. We’re taking her for some air. It might help calm her down, the poor, poor girl. She’s blind, you know.’
Berard nodded along sympathetically, utterly confused. ‘You go then, you go,’ he smiled sleepily. ‘I will see you when the sun comes up, or perhaps not... for I may need a very, very long sleep...’
Berard turned and waved to Jael as she let him go, conscious of the fact that Aleksander, Gant, and Axl were now approaching.
‘Hurry up, Berard!’ she whispered, wishing him up the stairs, hoping that he would not fall straight back down them.
Turning around to the three men, she swallowed and followed them to the doors, not one of them glancing at the hall as they passed, holding their breaths.
Perhaps there were Brekkans in the shed, too; Eadmund wasn’t sure. There was a torch just inside the door, burning in a sconce, but the bodies were helter-skelter, sleeping wherever they had managed to find a mound of hay. It was too hard to say who was who.
He motioned to Fyn to start waking everyone up as he looked for Beorn. It was easy enough to follow his snoring it turned out.
Eadmund clamped his hand over Beorn’s mouth and whispered in his ear. ‘We are leaving, old friend. I need both ships ready to go now. Without a sound.’ He took his hand away from Beorn’s mouth and put his finger to his lips, backing away to crouch around the rest of the men, desperate to find Villas, Ice Breaker’s helmsman.