Winter's Fury

by A. E. Rayne

  ‘You sodding turd!’ Thorgils blustered as he came upon Eadmund, sitting casually outside his old cottage, taking in the lightly falling snow, drink in hand.

  ‘What?’ Eadmund asked, bemused at the fierce expression on his usually cheerful friend’s face.

  ‘What?!’ Thorgils spat angrily. ‘What?! What, is that I’ve been roaming about this fucking island looking for you and here you are, sitting at home as though nothing was amiss. All I seem to do these days is run around after you! How or why I became your servant, I don’t know!’

  Eadmund’s head was foggier than his face betrayed and he had no idea why Thorgils was so livid. ‘Why have you been looking for me? What’s happened?’

  Thorgils rolled his eyes, grabbed Eadmund’s cup, sniffed it, then threw it on the ground. Seizing his friend roughly by the arm, he lifted him up. ‘You’re supposed to be in the hall, with your wife, breakfasting with your families. Not sitting out here alone, giving people cause to wonder what might not have happened last night.’

  Eadmund could see what his friend was about now, but he was in no mood to be accommodating. ‘What do you care whether I’m here or there, or what happened or didn’t happen last night?’

  Thorgils sighed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. Moving closer to Eadmund and wishing he could hit him, rather than reason with him, he dropped his voice. ‘Do you think your father’s patience is unending? That his threats about Ivaar are empty?’

  Eadmund just shrugged, looking as unbothered as anyone possibly could, at least to Thorgils, and that only served to annoy him further.

  ‘You are on your last chance with him, Eadmund! He warned you, and now, if he finds out that nothing happened last night, he will be wild and have Ivaar here before the Freeze. And that will be the end of Oss and the end of you.’

  ‘He won’t bring Ivaar back. Do you know how many times he has threatened that? He hasn’t done it yet and why would he?’ Eadmund looked more confident than he felt. ‘He doesn’t want Ivaar here any more than you or I. No one does.’ He shook his sandy head dismissively.

  ‘Have you seen yourself lately?’ Thorgils said crossly. ‘What choice does he have?’

  Eadmund was in no mood for this. He was married. He had a wife. Surely that was enough weight to place on his shoulders for now. With one hard look in Thorgils’ direction, he stalked off towards the hall, hoping he could get it all over with quickly and return to his own peace and quiet again.

  Edela sat next to Gisila at the high table, her meal steadily congealing before her eyes. She was sure the poached fish would have been entirely edible, but Lothar had passed word early that they would be sailing back to Andala after their morning meal, and that had put a firm hold on her appetite.

  Edela’s face was a picture of pale disquiet, troubled by the prospect of another journey across those treacherous straights; this time with a sea that was, according to recent accounts, freezing fast. She shivered at the thought of that black, watery embrace. And if that wasn’t bad enough, she’d had another dream about the Darkness. Her lack of understanding of these dreams was deeply unsettling. She felt the warning in them, woke up cold-sweating from them, but was left clinging to invisible strands that connected to nothing, and ultimately led to nowhere. And it was all to do with Jael, somehow; she sensed that strongly. The dreams gnawed away at her constantly, and she cursed herself for getting so old. Perhaps it was her fading memory, her inability to retain the dreams long enough to interpret them fully? She sighed, feeling a new tightness in her back.

  Glancing around, Edela was surprised to see the young girl, Eydis, standing shyly next to her, one hand reaching out to rest on her arm. Eydis smiled then, and it was so innocent that Edela’s frazzled nerves smoothed themselves somewhat. She smiled in return.

  ‘You needn’t worry about Jael,’ Eydis murmured. ‘She will like it here. I have seen that in my dreams.’

  Edela stilled and looked into those small, milky eyes that could not focus on her own. ‘You have?’ she asked gently.

  ‘Yes. I have dreamed of Jael many times, of her and Eadmund together. I knew she was the one who could change Eadmund’s life. I saw it. He needs her, I think, to save him.’ She bowed her head sadly.

  Edela reached out and took the girl’s warm, little hand in her own; there was an innocence in her words that calmed her. ‘I think you’re right. I have seen the same thing in my own dreams. We are similar, you and I, so I am glad to think that Jael will have your wisdom here, just as she is losing mine. Not that she ever took that much notice of me, of course!’ Edela laughed at herself, remembering how many times Jael had told her off, scoffed at her dreams, ignored every piece of advice she had given her, and then turned around, albeit reluctantly, and done everything Edela had suggested in the end. Even this. Especially this.

  ‘And you will return, of course, when the baby comes?’

  Edela’s eyes lit up momentarily, before the vision of the Nebbar Straights appeared, lurching before her, eliminating any joy she may have felt. ‘Perhaps. If I can be carried over by the birds!’

  They walked together in an awkward silence that only Thorgils appeared aware of. Neither Jael nor Eadmund seemed to notice his presence in between them as they made their way to the hall. They had nothing to say to each other, or him; in fact, nobody would look at anybody.

  Thorgils had just finished telling himself that he was done running around after Eadmund, done being his unpaid servant, when they stumbled upon Evaine. Or perhaps it was Evaine who stumbled upon them, he reflected later.

  She was coming out of her father’s house, her thick, white cloak almost swamping her small frame; its fur-lined hood framing her pretty face. She had a basket over one arm and looked purposeful, although, given the rapidly disintegrating weather, that seemed ill-advised. ‘Eadmund! Thorgils!’ she smiled, with well-constructed surprise.

  Both men stopped suddenly as though struck; mouths open, heads empty.

  ‘I thought everyone was in the hall?’ Evaine wondered. Then, staring pointedly at Jael, she dropped her eyes, looking almost shyly away, her cheeks flushing warm pink against her white hood.

  Jael’s forehead creased as she watched the girl and the men’s dumbfoundedness around her; both seemed unable to speak, neither knew where to look. Much more was communicated by their silence than either realised. ‘Are you on your way there?’ Jael asked, sensing Thorgils and Eadmund squirm uncomfortably beside her. ‘You can walk with us.’

  ‘Oh no, no, no, Evaine is not going to the hall, are you?’ Thorgils hastily intervened, finding his voice at last as he hurried to extract them all from this quickening mire.

  ‘I...’ Evaine looked momentarily confused, biting her lip, wondering just which move she should make; enjoying the power she felt throbbing inside her chest at that moment.

  Eadmund tried to catch Evaine’s eye, wondering what she was about, hoping to stop her saying anything they would both regret.

  ‘No, Thorgils is right,’ Evaine murmured, feeling Eadmund’s eyes on her. ‘I was just on my way to pick some herbs to settle my mother’s stomach. She is unwell today, so I am tending to her, but I do hope you enjoy your celebrations... my lady. I wish you much luck in your marriage.’ The last words tasted bitter on her tongue, but Evaine smiled sweetly enough, lowering her head to cover the depth of hatred lurking near her eyes.

  Jael’s instincts were sharply honed, like the well-worked blade of her knife, so she sensed that there was something false about this girl; all except her intentions, of course, which, from her not-so-subtle glances towards Eadmund, appeared very real indeed. ‘Thank you,’ Jael breathed coldly. ‘I hope your mother feels well soon.’ She strode off, leaving Eadmund and Thorgils with frozen expressions of barely concealed discomfort, trailing behind. Interesting, she thought to herself, very interesting. This would be something to amuse herself with during the long winter ahead.

  Eirik watched on as Eydis chatted confidently to Jael’s grandmother. H
e had never seen her so forthcoming around strangers, but then again, he chided himself, she was talking to a fellow Tuuran.

  Eirik had quickly tired of Lothar’s self-important, incessant babble and his inability to listen to anything but the sound of his own voice. He sat on the edge of Lothar’s conversation with Osbert and their man, whose name he couldn’t remember, barely listening to their plans for attacking Hest. He had been thrilled by the sharp decline in the weather overnight. The plunging temperature and foreboding skies had convinced the Brekkans to take their boats to sea immediately, or risk being stranded till spring; what a thought! If only Lothar hadn’t insisted upon leaving behind his little spy to keep them all watching their step. Still, winter would bring endless snow and rain and the slippery cliffs of Oss could be dangerous for strangers.

  Lothar laughed loudly. It resounded around the hall like the repeated slapping of a jellied fish and Eirik bit down on the urge to grimace at the unpleasant sound. No wonder Jael had come so willingly into this marriage; anything would have been preferable to staying in Andala and being forced to listen to that man’s irritating laugh.

  ‘Ahhh, there they are!’ Eirik was on his feet instantly, relieved to see Thorgils usher the married couple into the hall, both bride and groom frowning miserably beneath a thick dusting of snow.

  Much cheering and bellows of innuendo greeted Jael and Eadmund, who each managed to supply an unconvincing smile or two in acknowledgement. It was a start, Eirik thought to himself. Eadmund hadn’t drunk himself to death and Jael hadn’t killed him in the night, so he would take that for now.

  To be polite, Jael probably should have steered straight for her father-in-law, or her uncle but instead, she quickly sought out her brother. Thorgils had informed her that the Furycks were leaving imminently and she realised that she hadn’t managed a moment alone with him. Leaving Eadmund to deal with the tedious well-wishers, she escaped to the corner where Axl and Gisila were deep in conversation.

  ‘You look well rested,’ Gisila murmured, eyeing her daughter suspiciously.

  ‘It was a very comfortable bed.’

  Gisila never knew how to take Jael’s humour, straight and aimed at her as it usually was. ‘Was it now?’

  ‘Yes,’ Jael replied curtly. She had no intention of either lying or telling the truth, but she did like to keep her mother guessing. Gisila was so self-involved that it was easy fun. ‘When are you leaving?’

  ‘Now,’ Axl grumbled. ‘We should be leaving now! The clouds are down in the bay, almost touching the water, and the snow is only getting heavier. We must say our goodbyes now. Mother, you need to hurry Lothar along. We don’t have time for eating.’

  One look at Lothar told Gisila that he was in no mood to be hurried; he was enjoying his own company far too much. But Axl was right; she dreaded to think what would happen if they were frozen in. She couldn’t face spending an entire winter on this windblown rock. ‘I think you’re right. I will see what I can do.’

  She left, and Jael grabbed Axl’s elbow, guiding him further away from prying eyes and ears. Tiras was in her sights across the hall, near Lothar. He glanced up at her, his hood hanging low, his dark, cold eyes boring into hers, but she didn’t have time to care.

  ‘I thought we would have a chance to talk before you left but this will have to be it,’ she said, keeping her voice even. ‘I know you want to get that throne back from Lothar, but this is where you must practice the most important part of being a ruler. You must look after your people, keep them safe. You’re responsible for our family now, Axl. Mother, Grandmother, Aleksander. You have to take care of them all and keep them alive.’ Jael kept her face free of the anxiety that was tainting her voice. She looked calmly around, smiling as if she were having an easy conversation with her little brother. ‘You must listen to Aleksander, only Aleksander. Mother will try to tell you what to do, Edela will share her dreams, of course, but Aleksander is the only one to go to for advice. He is the wise head. He knows war, battles, kings. He knows how to be patient, to play the game. Osbert and Lothar will be watching you now, more than before, looking for any reason to end you, to end all of us... don’t give them one.’

  Axl gnawed irritably on his lower lip. Jael had always shown little regard for his worth. He believed he knew the reason behind her lack of respect, and he couldn’t blame her for that, but he was no longer a boy; he was the rightful heir to the Brekkan throne, and he wouldn’t be dismissed so easily, either by his uncle, or his sister. Talk of patience, of hiding in shadows, did nothing to quell his desire for vengeance and victory against the Usurper. He admired, even loved his sister, but she was no longer part of Brekka’s future so he would not be dictated to by her or her ex-lover.

  ‘Jael!’ Eirik had found her, and their brief conversation was over. Jael reluctantly allowed herself to be led off to where Lothar was lecturing Eadmund. Axl was relieved. He would show her that he was not the disappointment she believed him to be. She always thought it was her job to protect him, but she was wrong. He would return, as King of Brekka, to save her.

  Edela snuck up beside him, slipping her arm through his. ‘Come along, my Axl,’ she smiled up at her grandson’s determined face, looking more serene than she felt. ‘Let’s help your mother drag that big oaf out of here before the sea is frozen solid.’

  Blustery snow menaced the guests as they left the warm shelter of the hall and headed down to their ships. Axl was right; the snow clouds were indeed sinking into the sea. It did not bode well for a safe journey.

  Lothar, though, was endlessly optimistic about their chances. ‘I’ve sailed in worse!’ he called out bullishly to Eirik. ‘You shall see how mighty the ships of Brekka are! And come spring, so will Haaron and all his inbred sons down in Hest!’

  Jael couldn’t wait to be rid of him, but at the same time, she was not prepared for her connection to Brekka to be severed so abruptly; she had imagined a more gentle easing apart than this. Teeth gritted against the snow, Jael watched on as the ships were readied, an empty feeling dropping into the pit of her stomach. She hated everything her life was becoming.

  The snow was settling over her boots at a quickening pace. She wondered at the logic of sailing now but understood that wiser heads than hers knew that there was still a chance to get through. The weather blew out of Oss, onto Andala so they would be able to get ahead of it if they left now, or so they all said. The one thing the Osslanders did know about was the Freeze, which every anxious face told her, was coming fast.

  Gisila held on tightly as she hugged Jael goodbye. She looked genuinely upset, but Jael wondered whether it was the sadness of losing her daughter or the shame of her having married into such a low family.

  ‘I hope it’s not too terrible,’ she whispered into Jael’s ear. ‘If you just let him drink and have other women, you will be able to do as you wish. And you will have Biddy to take care of you, so you won’t be completely alone.’ She squeezed Jael’s shoulder, and with an uncertain smile, turned her head quickly away, going to join Amma, who had already said her goodbyes.

  Lothar was next, and Jael hoped he would hurry; she was so cold now that she could feel her legs trembling.

  Lothar did his very best to look regal as he placed his hands firmly on Jael’s shoulders. ‘I wish you both a profitable marriage,’ he smiled, nodding towards Eadmund, who looked just as sullen as his wife. ‘Rich with grandchildren for your father! And of course, I will see you both in the spring, unless you are too big and fat to join us in our war on Hest!’ He leaned in and murmured into her ear. ‘Keep him happy. Keep Eirik happy, and I will keep your family alive. But cross me....’ And narrowing his eyes, he pulled away to wink at her, shaking Eadmund quickly by the hand. Nodding to Osbert to join him, they walked down to the ships with Eirik.

  Finally, it was Edela and Axl’s turn. Jael didn’t want this part. It had been hard enough to leave Aleksander, and the memory of that goodbye was still an open wound. She didn’t want to expose her true heart here o
n this stormy beach, to weaken herself in front of all these strangers. ‘Goodbye, Grandmother,’ Jael said with a brief smile as she bent down to hug Edela tightly.

  ‘Is that it?’ Edela wondered, surprised. ‘I would have hoped for a better goodbye than that, after 27 years of putting up with you!’ Her face was a pale mask of fear, but she still managed to flash a mischievous smile. ‘You will miss me more than that measly show of affection, I am certain of it.’

  ‘I think I might. Just a bit.’ Jael hugged her again, grasping her tiny, bony frame beneath numb fingers. She held on more firmly this time, only letting go when she saw Osbert beckoning for them to hurry up; everyone else had boarded now. ‘Be safe, take care of yourself!’ There was so much more she wanted to say, but there was no privacy and no time.

  Jael rushed to hug Axl goodbye. She hoped he wouldn’t let her down, that he would listen to her advice and try to keep everyone safe. He looked like such a boy, though, as he stood there awkwardly in front of her, in a cloak that he had outgrown, his floppy, snow-covered hair blowing into his eyes. She brushed it out. ‘Be safe.’ It was delivered firmly, eye to eye; more of a warning and a threat, than a gentle wish.

  Axl met her eyes boldly. ‘You too.’ He looked towards the limp figure of Eadmund, not sure whether to feel sorrier for her or him. ‘Good luck,’ he wished them both.

  Axl helped his grandmother carefully navigate the slick stones down to the ships. As she reached Storm Chaser, which was rocking gently in the undulating water, Edela turned around to wave a final goodbye and was surprised to see a girl appear on the rise behind Jael and Eadmund. She was wrapped in a white cloak, which flapped angrily about her like the wings of a gull. Her face broke into a knowing smile as she locked eyes with Edela, a smile that froze Edela’s heart to the core. She shivered, swallowing hard, closing her eyes to remove the disturbing vision. When she opened them, though, the girl was still there, still smiling, still staring, but this time her face looked scorched, like the toasted remains of a pyre. Eyes that had moments earlier appeared so innocent, suddenly glared menacingly out of that dark face. Edela made to change direction and rush back towards Jael, to warn her, but it was too late. Osbert reached down, and, with Axl’s help, they pulled her onto the ship, fighting against her protesting arms and feet, ignoring her calls to stop, so that she could go back to Jael. There simply was, they insisted, no time.