Eye of the Wolf: An Epic Fantasy Adventure (The Lords of Alekka Book 1)

by A. E. Rayne

  Hakon nodded. Everything was running smoothly, and he had no reason to find fault with Ivan at all. And nor would he. His cousin’s presence was a comfort and a pleasure, and he would never think of replacing him, no matter how much his dreamer disliked him. ‘I would. You stay where you are, Ivan. Enjoy the view!’ And ignoring Mother’s scowl, Hakon pressed her for more information. ‘What did you see in your dreams last night?’

  ‘An old friend,’ was all she would say, quickly gobbling up the hotcakes Hakon’s servant handed her. ‘A very welcome old friend.’

  Reinar stared at Alys as she made herself comfortable on one of Eddeth’s rough tree stumps, which wasn’t comfortable at all. ‘You’re sure no one did this to you? Someone must have, Alys. You didn’t do it to yourself.’

  Eddeth shooed Reinar towards the door. Her cottage suddenly felt full with him towering inside it, stooped over, trying to avoid brushing his head against the drying herbs she’d strung between the rafters. ‘Best you go now. Go! Go!’

  Reinar looked annoyed, ready to argue, but he had to get back to the square, and Eddeth had a look in her eye he knew well, so he nodded. ‘I’ll come back for you shortly. I want to hear what you discover.’ And ducking underneath the bags of rosemary and hyssop dangling from the lintel, Reinar disappeared outside.

  ‘That man!’ Eddeth sighed. ‘Like a boulder. Can’t shift him!’ She was distracted for a moment, staring at the door, trying to remember what she’d been about to do, then spinning around, she saw Alys.

  And Alys’ neck.

  It was a mystery, and Eddeth shivered with excitement, eager to begin.

  ‘What do you think happened?’ Alys wondered, listening to the rasp of her voice. Tiredness, she’d initially thought. Or too much wine. But now she realised that her throat felt raw. It was becoming painful to swallow.

  Eddeth sat before her, pushing away Rigfuss, who had his paws on her leg, looking to be lifted up. ‘Something I’ve never seen before. A dream come to life! Not just a vision like that wolf, not a trick of the mind, but real. Flesh and hands and strangling!’ She gently touched the marks on Alys’ neck. ‘Someone was trying to kill you!’

  Alys froze, thinking of the wolf. ‘Perhaps the dreamer who made the waking nightmare?’

  ‘Could be. But you have your protection stone. I’m not sure she could hurt you if she tried. My symbols have never been wrong before!’ Eddeth cocked her head to one side. ‘Unless it was just a warning? If the dreamer knows you stopped her nightmare and her curse, which, being a dreamer, I imagine she does... perhaps she’s threatening you?’ Popping a walnut into her mouth, she crunched loudly, mouth open, eyes fixed on Alys. ‘Warning you of what will happen if you come between her and her magic, perhaps?’

  Alys touched her neck. ‘But if she can bruise my skin? Try to kill me?’ She felt sick. ‘How can we stop her, Eddeth?’ She remembered the sensation of not being able to breathe more acutely now. ‘I thought I was going to die.’

  Eddeth swallowed the walnut, gnawing a dirty fingernail. ‘Well, we shall have to get serious, Alys. Serious indeed.’ She ripped off the nail, twitching her nose. ‘It’s time to open up my secret chest!’

  Ludo had found it impossible to concentrate.

  He had positioned the catapults around the square, and was working with his group of women to ensure that everything the crews would need was to hand. The constant blustering wind had wreaked havoc across the fort, and he’d had the women out gathering rocks, weighing everything down, for despite the momentarily clear sky, Ludo was certain there’d be another storm before long.

  He frowned. ‘Where’s Stina? I don’t think I’ve seen her all morning.’

  Jorunn and Vanya had their heads together, gossiping about Ilene and Amir, which seemed to be the topic of conversation passing through the various groups of Ullaberg women that morning. Ilene was already acting like a lady, as though she was better than any of them, and Jorunn and Vanya had eagerly shared the news with Ludo that Ilene’s bed had remained untouched all night long.

  ‘Stina was gone when we woke up,’ Jorunn said, wiping her dripping nose with a cloth. ‘But she’s always been an early bird, that one. Likes to walk every morning. Perhaps she just got lost?’

  Ludo frowned. ‘In the fort? I don’t think it’s that big.’

  ‘But the gates were open early today,’ Vanya put in. ‘Maybe she went into the forest?’

  Ludo stared at the inner gates, where two of his friends had their heads together. ‘Alright, well, I’ll go and see where’s she gotten to. You take charge, Jorunn.’ And smiling at the older of the two women, Ludo strode away.

  Vanya nudged Jorunn, and they both turned to watch him go. ‘Such long legs on that one,’ she smiled. ‘And such big hands too!’

  Eddeth rubbed knitbone leaves on Alys’ neck, which was already turning all shades of purple and yellow. She felt distracted and impatient, for though she felt a duty to care for Alys, her mind was jumping in all directions, eager to get on with solving the mystery.

  So leaving Alys on her tree stump with a promise to find the right salve before Reinar returned, she headed for the tiny iron chest she had placed on the bed. It was more of a box really, secured with an enormous rusty padlock. Symbols were inscribed around the edges, tiny and indecipherable for most, but not for Eddeth. ‘This was my grandmother’s,’ she breathed, unlocking the box with a key she’d retrieved from her purse. Lifting the lid with a squeak of excitement, she inhaled a mouthful of dust and immediately started coughing. Barking like a dog, she shut the box, hurrying back to her feet, desperately searching for water.

  ‘What’s in it?’ Alys wondered when she returned.

  ‘Conversations!’ Eddeth announced dramatically, opening the box again, revealing a linen package. The linen was a patchy yellow colour, almost in pieces as she placed it on the bed, gently unwrapping it. ‘A book of conversations!’

  Alys looked confused, but Eddeth didn’t notice as she removed the thin book from its ancient shroud. ‘Conversations with who?’

  ‘The gods,’ Eddeth breathed, turning to Alys. ‘My grandmother talked to Valera herself, and she wrote down everything that goddess said!’ Eyes wide, she carefully opened the cover, inhaling the fusty smell of the old book. ‘History! Everything we need to know lives in history!’ She jerked her head towards Alys. ‘Don’t you agree?’

  Alys blinked. ‘I...’ She shrugged. ‘I hope so, Eddeth.’

  ‘Now, you stay there and let me read. It’s very hard to understand, this book. I’ve not read it for many a year, but I’ll find my way through it, don’t you worry. And then we’ll know where we are, won’t we?’ She bent her head low, hair trembling, body vibrating with excitement.

  Alys looked from Eddeth to the door, wanting to leave.

  Certain she was in the wrong place.

  Hoping Reinar would return soon.

  Reinar made his way through the outer gates, where Torvig was supervising the men preparing the field. If Hakon Vettel intended to bring his army across that field, they were determined to make it as unpleasant as possible.

  Torvig straightened up with a grin. ‘Getting there,’ he said, pleased with the look of the field, littered with holes, nails and troughs as it was. ‘Wouldn’t you say?’

  Reinar’s frown wouldn’t budge. He turned around, his attention moving to the walls behind him, then the gates. ‘We don’t know what they’re bringing.’

  ‘No, but we can guess. And we can only use what we have, what we can make in time.’ Torvig patted his friend on the shoulder. ‘Don’t worry. We may not have the men, but we have the walls. They’ve held all these years.’

  That offered no comfort. Not anymore.

  Never did not mean ever.

  Reinar nodded anyway. ‘Maybe add some more ship nails. Bang them through pieces of wood. Have them sticking out as spikes. Bolli can help you.’ He frowned, peering at the charred trees lying in the field, trying to imagine what his enemy could do with
them. ‘I’ll check on you later.’ And distracted, Reinar headed back into the fort, across the square, eyes on Alys’ cottage door, wondering if Eddeth had found an answer to what had happened to her neck.

  Ludo nearly knocked him over as he passed with Amir.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Reinar asked. ‘You’re running around like a chicken this morning.’

  Ludo ducked his head, shoulders slumping. ‘I’ve lost one of the women.’

  ‘What?’ Reinar was incredulous. ‘How? Who?’ Though he didn’t really know any of the women, he was hoping it wasn’t Ilene. His eyes went to Amir, who didn’t look as concerned as Ludo.

  ‘Her name is Stina. She’s Alys’ friend.’

  ‘Oh. Have you checked the forest?’

  ‘Briefly,’ Ludo said.

  Reinar scratched his bearded chin, glancing around, seeing the women waiting for Amir in the training ring. ‘Well, grab your horse and do a proper search. Amir, you get on with things. Ludo, take a good look, but if she’s decided to run away, there’s little we can do now. I can’t afford to lose you for a whole day trying to hunt her down.’ He thought about Alys, who would likely be upset. ‘But try and find some sign of what happened to her.’

  Ludo nodded, hurrying for the stables.

  Reinar turned to see Amir heading for Ilene, eyes only for each other. He rolled his own eyes. ‘Training, Amir! Training!’ Any optimism he’d felt when they burned the cursed trees had been snuffed out by the cold reality of the day. Now the growing reminder that they were undermanned and vulnerable to an enemy stronger than any they’d faced before nagged away at him.

  And staring up at the sky, Reinar prayed for more snow.

  Hakon wore fur-lined leather gloves, specially made for his thumbless hands. He struggled to grip the reins, and his gloves had rivets around the fingers and palm area, giving him some support.

  They were warm too.

  The rest of him was frozen solid, the snow blowing across them horizontally now, the path almost impossible to discern in the blizzard. It didn’t feel as though they’d left their camp that long ago, and yet the sky was almost dark, the clouds sinking lower and lower, touching the tips of the snow-covered trees they rode through.

  Hakon turned in his saddle, jealous of Mother and Falla in their tiny wagon. How pleasant it would be not to feel that cold slap of wind across his face like an icy belt. He gritted his teeth as Ivan rode up behind him. ‘What happened?’ he called, turning away from the roaring wind.

  ‘Just a fight. Two idiots. I separated them. Nothing to worry about.’ Ivan’s eyes were almost hidden beneath the hood of his fur-trimmed black cloak. His beard was white with snow, his body trembling. ‘Not sure anyone’s enjoying the weather!’

  ‘Not everyone! But you’re still smiling, Cousin!’

  ‘Why not? We’re days away from the greatest victory of our lives. Ha! Can you imagine it? Us? Two idiots like us? Hakon and Ivan Vettel, the greatest warriors in Alekka? Soon they’ll be singing about us instead of Ake Bluefinn. Soon new sagas will be written about the Rise of the Vettels!’

  ‘The Return of the Vettels,’ Hakon decided, shivering. ‘For we will reclaim our rightful place in Stornas. Our place, as the gods have always willed it.’ He gripped the reins tightly, noticing a look in Ivan’s eyes, sensing him stiffen. ‘What?’

  Ivan pointed into the blizzard. ‘Hard to tell, but I think someone’s coming.’

  The weather had disintegrated quickly, though after a few good meals and some sleep, Magnus was feeling better, if not frozen solid. Vik had given him his bed fur to use as a cloak, and Jonas had tied it around Magnus with a length of rope. And though the wind flapped it away from him, it was big and furry, and he was grateful for it.

  Vik rode at the front, Magnus in the middle, with Jonas bringing up the rear. They wanted to keep the worst of the weather from the boy, though the wind was changing direction with every blink of the eye, Jonas saw, watching Magnus’ fur flapping before him.

  He had a profound sense of relief that they’d found him, and a growing fear for Lotta. If they were lucky enough to find her, Jonas believed they stood a good chance of getting her back, now that Vik was with them, but what would happen to her in the meantime? What would those men do to her? He tried not to imagine such things, gripping the reins tighter, missing Klippr.

  Trying not to think about that too.

  Ahead, Vik stuck up a hand.

  ‘What is it?’ Jonas called, riding up to him. The snow was becoming blizzard-like now, and he could barely see more than white and grey shapes.

  ‘Someone’s coming!’

  Hakon sent Ivan ahead to see who it was.

  He felt on edge, struggling to discern anything more than shadows, the noise of the wind searing into his ears, making them ache, despite the thickness of his fur hood.

  And then Ivan was back with a grin and Hakon could see clearly now.

  And he smiled.

  33

  It was an elk, moving slowly, snow-covered calf beside it, and Vik let them go, in no mood for killing. The day had barely begun, and if they were going to get through the mountains quickly, they had to plough on.

  Jonas felt relieved, not wanting any more trouble. His arm wound was painful, the cut deeper than he’d realised, but he had no fear of it bleeding. Everything was frozen, including his lips as he tried to speak. The blizzard swirled loudly and unhelpfully around them, and Magnus’ pony was struggling in front of him. ‘Perhaps we tie her onto me, and you hop on here?’ Jonas called.

  Magnus shook his head, not turning around. He didn’t want to leave Daisy alone. The weather was worse than anything he’d ridden in, and he imagined she was feeling scared. He didn’t want to leave her. ‘No!’

  Jonas nodded. ‘Alright, but perhaps I’ll ride with you, just to keep her moving!’ His beard was thick with snow, and he ran a hand through it, brushing the wet flakes away. ‘We have to keep going. Slussfall is some distance, and these mountains will go on awhile.’

  Magnus had guessed that. ‘We have to keep going!’ he called back, blinking. ‘We have to save Lotta!’ He could see Long Beard’s eyes in his mind. His crafty, mismatched eyes. His ragged hair and his crumpled, stubbly face. Scars and tattoos everywhere. A hard, hard man.

  A hard, hard man with a little girl.

  Magnus tapped Daisy with his boots, wanting to spur her on.

  They couldn’t stop now.

  No one wanted to stop, and yet there was so much Hakon needed to know.

  Trying to hear anything Ulrick Dyre said was almost impossible, though.

  Still, he had been glad to see the man emerge from the blizzard on his horse; surprised to see him alone.

  ‘Ride with me!’ Hakon called. ‘We’ll speak when we can. I want to hear everything! Everything you’ve seen and heard!’

  Ulrick nodded, giant fur cloak swathed around him, draped over his horse, hood covering most of his bearded face. He spun, hearing the shriek from behind him. It sounded like a flock of birds.

  And seeing the wagon stutter to a halt, his eyes narrowed as Hakon’s old hag dreamer squeezed through the door, leaving it banging in the wind. ‘The girl! The girl! Bring me the girl!’

  Hakon stared at Ivan, who looked confused, shrugging.

  They both turned to Ulrick, who opened his thick cloak, revealing a blonde-haired little girl, blinking at them with terrified blue eyes.

  Alys had been awake for most of the night, and the warmth of Eddeth’s fire was starting to make her sleepy. That and Eddeth’s throaty murmuring as she read, scraping her fingernail across the pages of her grandmother’s book. She hadn’t spoken in some time, and Alys found her heavy eyes closing, unable to stop them.

  ‘The gods!’ Eddeth announced suddenly, loudly, head up, turning to Alys. ‘The gods and the dreamers! I see it all so clearly now!’

  Alys blinked, swallowing. ‘You do?’

  ‘The gods are just like us, you know. Loyal and scheming. Kind and ma
levolent. Just as we are.’

  Alys shivered suddenly, watching Eddeth’s eyes narrow.

  ‘We think of them as parents, but they are children.’ Eddeth inhaled slowly, considering things. ‘They have favourites! They play games!’

  ‘Games?’

  ‘They like to be entertained, so why not?’

  ‘And what game are they playing now? With my neck? Is it a game?’

  But Eddeth had returned to the book, lips pressed tightly together, one leg vibrating, fingernail scraping under the ancient scrawls again.

  Alys tried to think as she sat there, watching the flames. She came from a long line of dreamers. Tuuran dreamers. Skilled women, trained in their craft. Alys felt like a disappointment to all of them. And though her gift was to see, she felt blind, unable to control her thoughts, to focus them in a particular direction.

  Reaching a hand to her throat, she remembered how terrified she had felt, as though all the air was being sucked out of her body. And she thought of the wolf.

  It made sense.

  If Hakon Vettel’s dreamer had discovered her nightmare spell was broken...

  Alys’ thoughts skipped ahead.

  She had found the symbols on the trees, and with Eddeth’s help, they had hopefully broken the curse. So if the dreamer had placed that curse on Ottby, there was a very good chance she was trying to kill her.

  The certainty of that flickered before her like an unsteady flame in a stiff breeze. Alys didn’t feel confident that she had found the answer. But what else could explain it?