by A. E. Rayne
He didn’t know Alys, though, not like he knew Elin.
And Elin would come back to him once she found out the curse was lifted. Once she knew that the gods still favoured him, she would return, and they would try for another child. She would be happy when she was back home with him.
Closing his eyes, Reinar rubbed his feet together, trying to warm them up, seeing his wife’s face.
Hoping to find her in his dreams.
Alys knew she should be sleeping, but the noise of the wind was so loud and mournful that she found it impossible to relax, and eventually, she wrapped the bed fur around her shoulders, disturbing the cat as she headed to sit by the fire to read.
She thought of Eddeth and her teas, deciding to visit her in the morning and ask for some herbs. Eddeth’s teas were warming and calming, and likely she would know just the right combination to aid her sleep.
The vellum page she was studying had been wet at some stage, for the words had blurred, making it hard to distinguish each letter. Or perhaps it was her eyes, Alys thought, squinting, running a finger under one line, frowning. Nothing was making any sense.
The door rattled, and turning to it, Alys shivered.
She glanced back at Winter, who was not purring. He was staring at the door too.
Hairs on the back of her neck rising, Alys put down the book and picked up the poker, dropping the fur back on the bed as she crept towards the door. Moving the poker into her left hand, she slid the bolt with her right, swinging the door open, hoping it was just the wind.
Breath trapped in her chest, Alys stepped outside, into the square, listening to the rustling leaves on the giant tree. It was mostly evergreen, though the leaves appeared half-frozen, rubbing against each other with vigour in the furious wind, threatening to blow away.
She glanced to her right, listening, but apart from two guards shivering by the inner gates, no one was there.
‘Are you alright?’
Yelping in surprise, Alys dropped the poker on Ludo’s foot. She hopped backwards, banging into the cottage door, arms out in surprise.
‘I’m sorry!’ Guilt and pain contorted Ludo’s face as he helped Alys inside. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you. What were you doing outside with a poker?’
Alys shook her head, feeling silly. ‘I thought I heard something. Are you alright?’
Ludo laughed, sitting down on a stool, feeling his foot through his boot. ‘Might be. Nothing feels broken, though, just a little sore.’
‘I’m so sorry. Why were you lurking outside my door?’
‘I had an odd feeling, like a nightmare. Thought I’d check the ramparts, but I saw nothing out of the ordinary. No wolves skulking about.’ He frowned, that odd feeling lingering. ‘Have you spoken to Stina lately?’ He realised that Stina was definitely part of that odd feeling.
‘Stina? Is something wrong with her?’ Alys’ attention had been so fractured that she’d barely been able to focus her thoughts for long, and certainly not on her friend. But something was wrong. She’d seen it in Stina’s eyes.
Ludo shrugged. ‘I don’t know her, so I couldn’t say. She’s very helpful, works hard, leads the other women, but there’s just something about her. She seemed different before, I think. Though,’ he admitted, hands in the air, ‘what would I know?’ He couldn’t stop seeing Stina’s sad face, though, wondering what he was missing. ‘I imagine she just doesn’t like being a prisoner.’ Ludo shook his head, realising how ridiculous that sounded. ‘Of course she doesn’t like being a prisoner!’
‘What are you doing?’ Sigurd stood in the doorway, one hand on the door which had been banging against the cottage. Bringing it in, he stepped inside, looking from one to the other. ‘What’s happened?’ He saw the distress in Alys’ eyes; Ludo with his boot off now, hands on his foot. ‘Are you alright?’
Ludo grinned. ‘Fine. Alys just thought I was some evil spirit lurking outside her door. She dropped the poker on my foot.’
Sigurd laughed, eyes on Alys. ‘So when you’re not getting injured, you’re injuring others?’
Alys looked sheepish.
‘What are you doing here?’ Ludo wondered.
‘Couldn’t sleep.’
‘That seems to be going around tonight,’ Alys said. ‘Neither could we.’
‘Well, if you have some ale or wine, we could sit around, keep each other company for a while?’ Sigurd suggested, glancing at Ludo, who looked happy enough, though his foot was throbbing. ‘Unless you’re too tired?’ He turned back to Alys, eyebrows raised.
‘No, company would be nice. And there’s some wine in the jug.’
Sigurd nodded, heading to the table, where he poured the wine into three cups, relieved to be out of the bone-chilling wind. He could almost feel Hakon Vettel breathing down their necks now, and the thought of it had his mind whirring. Sleep would not come for him in that state, he knew, even with Tulia’s naked body beside him. So handing one cup to Alys, Sigurd smiled. ‘What should we talk about then, Alys the dreamer?’
Stina hated everything he was doing to her.
Her back was wet, rubbing against the stinking straw as Torvig grunted over her. Sometimes he stopped, bending down to jam his hand over her mouth, holding it there until her eyes bulged with panic.
Stina tried to drift away, to exist outside it all, as though she was not even present. She thought of Ullaberg’s beach; the sound of the waves. Those gentle, rhythmic waves would soothe her to sleep at night. She could hear them through her window.
She tried not to panic, knowing that, eventually, he would finish and take her back to her cottage, wanting no one to discover what he’d done. Though it was hard not to panic when Torvig wrapped his hands around her throat.
In his dream, Reinar was on the beach at Ullaberg, watching his men rush the women, dragging them away from their families; their husbands charging at them, many unarmed, half asleep. They stood no chance. Not against men with swords and axes, shields protecting their chests, archers at their backs.
He wasn’t sure that he’d noticed Alys before, but she turned around, blonde hair swirling around her face. And he heard Salma’s soft voice.
‘Your new dreamer will come, do not fear, Reinar. I have seen her, and she is beautiful. Pale skin, dappled with freckles. A green dress...’ Salma had stopped, gasping for her last breaths. ‘She wears a green dress.’ She frowned, fading eyes suddenly sad. ‘And bruises, old and new, the poor girl...’
Reinar heard her voice and then Alys’ as she spun towards him, hand out. ‘Run!’ she yelled, trying to make herself heard. ‘Reinar! Run!’
At first, the wine had just been to make them feel more relaxed, but after one cup, no one had felt tired at all. And as there was nothing to eat and the storm was raging outside, Sigurd poured another round. And then another.
Which did Ludo in. His head drooped onto his chest, empty cup still in his hand.
Sigurd and Alys stared at him, wondering if they should wake him up.
‘But he looks so content,’ Alys grinned, head spinning. ‘Like a boy in a giant’s body.’
Sigurd snorted. ‘Sounds like Ludo all over! I think he was that size when he arrived in Ottby! But he was only a boy. Not a hair on his face!’ He leaned towards Alys, knocking his cup into hers, noticing a strange look in her eyes. ‘What is it?’
Alys felt odd, as though beetles were crawling beneath her skin.
Ice-cold, frozen beetles, leaving trails of shivers she couldn’t shake.
‘I don’t know. Something.’
Sigurd was quickly on his feet, wobbling, bumping into Ludo, who jerked up, brandishing his cup, nearly tipping into the fire.
‘What? What?’ And jumping away from the flames, he yelped, forgetting all about his injured foot. Turning to Sigurd, who was at the door, he tried to wake himself up.
‘Alys heard something.’
‘Not heard something... I think I felt it.’ She put her cup on the floor, regretting having had so much to drink. N
ow her mind was hazy, and her senses dulled. Trying to stand, she nearly fell over Winter as she headed to the door.
The three of them stepped into the square, Ludo limping, ushering Alys ahead of him, Sigurd in front of them.
They were quiet, listening, each one of them experiencing an odd sensation.
The storm blew past, a dog howled in the distance.
But nothing else.
Sigurd turned around. ‘I think we need some sleep!’
Ludo listened, but he couldn’t hear or feel anything except the demanding pain in his foot. ‘I think we do.’
Alys’ throat was suddenly tight, and she lifted a hand to her neck, struggling to breathe.
‘Alys?’ Sigurd turned back to her.
‘Can’t... breathe,’ Alys gasped, leaning against Ludo. She tried coughing, shaking her head. Her lungs hurt as she tried to drag in a breath, but they felt as though there was nothing to give, and she started to panic, eyes bursting open, hands at her neck.
Sigurd felt himself panicking too. ‘Ludo, take her back inside! We need to give her something to drink!’
Alys pushed Ludo away, stumbling, hurrying towards the tree, trying to listen, certain she could hear voices. But she couldn’t think, couldn’t find the answer.
No air would come.
She couldn’t think at all!
Everything started spinning, and she stumbled, Sigurd and Ludo grabbing her before she could fall.
They hurried her back into the cottage, sitting her on the bed.
Out of the corner of her eye, Alys saw Eddeth’s symbol stone, and she grabbed it, holding it in her right hand. And suddenly, face red, eyes popping open in terror, she could breathe again.
Panting, she drew air into her lungs, wanting to feel ice cold rain on her face.
Sigurd was on his knees before her. ‘Are you alright? Alys?’
Ludo had filled a cup with water, and he handed it to her. ‘Drink.’
Alys felt light-headed. She was trembling, shaking her head, not wanting water. Just air. She just wanted air.
‘What was it?’ Sigurd’s eyes were just as frantic. ‘You couldn’t breathe.’
‘I don’t... know.’ Alys leaned over, throat aching. ‘I don’t know what happened.’
Sigurd glanced at Ludo, who left the cup on a stool and came back to Alys. ‘What about some air?’
Alys lifted her head, nodding, still gripping the stone, and taking Sigurd’s hand, she rose to her feet.
‘Are you alright?’ Sigurd asked, peering at her as he led her outside. ‘Alright to walk?’
‘I think so.’ Flashes of panic threatened to undo her resolve to go outside again, but Alys took a deep breath and followed Ludo out into the square.
The wind lifted her dress, rushing past her with icy fingers. She shivered, embracing it, closing her eyes, mouth open, sucking in breaths of frigid air, shivering all over.
Sigurd watched her, frowning, feeling her hand trembling in his, wondering what had happened.
Mother sat in the corner of the tent, eyes on her raven.
His eyes were black, deep pits, blinking often.
She was lost, filled with rage, her body thrumming with anger, fists in balls as she remained motionless in the dark corner, watching the raven.
Reinar Vilander’s dreamer was a troublesome bitch.
A nuisance of a problem.
Yet there were always solutions.
Oh yes, she smiled, watching the raven, who squawked at her, blinking some more.
There were always solutions.
32
The morning dawned fine, snowless, and everyone rushed around the fort as though their lives depended on it.
Which they did.
If Alys’ vision about Hakon Vettel departing Slussfall had been correct, then they had two or three days before his army was lined up across the field, eyes on the outer gates.
Despite the lingering frost and the bitter cold, everyone was out early, wanting to use every moment of daylight to finish their preparations.
There was an urgency which was understandable, but after his odd night, Sigurd felt unsettled, moving slowly through the fort. His leg was aching, his back too. He felt like going back to bed. His brother, though, had woken before dawn, running around as though he was being chased by Ulura herself.
‘Reinar!’ Sigurd grabbed his arm, forcing him around. ‘You’re not listening!’
‘To you? About what?’ Reinar’s eyes hopped straight past his brother to where Torvig and Bolli were dragging stakes through the square towards the bridge gates. ‘You must hurry!’ he called, panic in his eyes, wanting to urge his friends on.
‘Why?’ Sigurd didn’t understand. ‘They can’t come faster than six days. They’d be running, not stopping for the night. They’d have no siege towers. No catapults.’
Reinar looked straight through him. ‘Why aren’t you helping Tulia? Is something wrong?’ He didn’t wait for an answer, though, striding past Sigurd to Bjarni, who appeared to be almost running into the guard tower.
‘I feel as though I’m still in a dream,’ Ludo yawned, stopping beside Sigurd. ‘Gerda’s in tears, panicking in the kitchen. Agnette’s out of bed, shooing the servants around, certain her baby’s going to come when Hakon Vettel’s attacking us.’ He looked puzzled. ‘I thought it was supposed to be different now the curse is lifted?’
‘Well, we still don’t have enough men. Our stores are still low. Stellan’s still not there, and Agnette looks ready to pop, so it seems the curse wasn’t our only worry!’ And seeing Alys heading towards them, Sigurd grinned. ‘Did you manage to get some sleep in the end?’ he asked, staring at her neck, frowning suddenly.
‘What?’ Alys looked from Sigurd to Ludo, who blinked in horror.
‘Your neck is bruised, Alys,’ Ludo breathed. ‘Badly bruised.’
Alys didn’t believe him, certain he was making fun of how many bruises she’d collected since arriving in Ottby. She touched her neck, not feeling anything.
Sigurd looked disturbed. ‘It is, Alys. You couldn’t breathe last night, remember?’
Alys did; it had been terrifying. ‘That’s strange. It doesn’t feel sore.’
Neither man spoke. They felt unsettled, even Sigurd, who would have usually laughed it all off.
Reinar stopped beside his brother, staring at Alys. ‘What’s going on?’ He looked from one serious face to the next, gasping as Alys removed her hands from her neck, quickly angry. ‘Who did that to you?’ He turned back to Sigurd and Ludo.
Sigurd held up his hands. ‘Don’t look at us, Brother. Alys couldn’t breathe last night.’
‘Last night? What do you mean, last night?’
Things were getting more complicated by the moment, and Alys felt the need to see Eddeth right away, wanting to know what had happened to her neck. She turned to leave, banging into Ludo, who put all his weight down on his injured foot, hopping in the air with a yelp, knocking Alys into Reinar, who grabbed her.
‘What happened to you?’ Reinar wondered, eyes on a grimacing Ludo.
Alys looked embarrassed.
Ludo and Sigurd burst out laughing, both of them hobbling, leaning on each other.
Reinar didn’t understand.
‘I dropped a poker on Ludo’s foot,’ Alys explained. ‘He gave me a fright. We spent the night talking after that, didn’t we?’ She smiled at Ludo and Sigurd. It had been enjoyable for a time. Comforting not to be alone.
‘All of you?’
The two men nodded.
‘But you didn’t see who did that to Alys’ neck?’
‘No, but you couldn’t breathe, could you?’ Ludo said, not laughing now.
‘No, it was as if someone was choking me.’ Alys shivered, wondering what had happened. ‘I need to see Eddeth. She might know something.’
‘I’ll take you,’ Reinar offered quickly, arm still around Alys’ back. ‘At this rate, you’ll be no use at all soon!’ It was meant as a joke, but Alys
could hear the tension in his voice as he walked her across the square, feeling the warmth of his arm touching her back.
Hakon was thrilled by the smile that brightened Mother’s round face as she emerged from her tent. ‘You had a good night, then? A useful dream or two?’
Mother cackled as she stepped around the fire towards him, gratefully taking the cup he offered her. ‘I did indeed. I anticipate a very productive day!’
‘You do?’
Mother helped herself to one of Hakon’s chairs, ignoring Ivan, who slouched beside his cousin, eating a rolled-up hot cake dripping with honey. Her own stomach rumbled, and she felt ravenous. Magic work tended to drain her. Such powerful spells sapped her energy like a demanding newborn on a tit. And despite her frustration with Reinar Vilander’s girl dreamer, she felt a lift.
A sense of optimism about the day.
Hakon’s servants fussed around their lord, adding more branches to the fire, offering their master the jug of small ale and a plate of eggs. But Hakon had had enough, and he was far more intrigued by what Mother had to say than any food. She seemed to have a secret, though she did not look inclined to share.
Ivan’s eyes were on Falla, who appeared to be arguing with her husband in the distance. The snow was sweeping in again, and everyone’s tempers were fraying. Travelling in winter was always a challenge, but taking the catapults and siege towers over the mountains from Slussfall had been tedious. Nobody was smiling, except for the grunting old woman who sat next to him, threatening to break the chair she had squeezed into.
Mother poked a finger at Ivan. ‘Is there no better use of your time than sitting there drooling over my daughter-in-law? Have you nothing else to be getting on with?’
Hakon laughed, nudging his cousin, who looked irritated, which was new for Ivan. Mother had certainly touched a raw nerve there.
‘I have no need to rush anywhere, Mother,’ Ivan purred, smiling sweetly at the dreamer. ‘My men know their tasks, as you can see.’ And he swept an arm across the vast swathe of snow-covered men who were dousing fires and packing tents; rolling furs and strapping on armour; stamping ice from their boots as they checked the sky, which looked grim indeed. ‘Everything is perfectly under control, wouldn’t you say, Cousin?’