by A. E. Rayne
What else could it be?
Ludo felt terrible.
Stina was part of his team of women. His responsibility. And he’d known that something was wrong for days. She had seemed oddly quiet. Sad. The other women had become happier, he thought, looking around, scanning the small groups working together, busy hands, heads together, talking. Despite the fear of what was coming, they had a real sense that soon they would be free to return to their homes, and their faces seemed brighter. Hope lived in their eyes again.
But it had not lived in Stina’s.
‘Don’t blame yourself,’ Bjarni tried, offering Ludo a sliver of salt pork. He was starving, but Gerda had shut down the hall kitchen, insisting that they needed to ration their stores with greater vigour than ever if they were about to be besieged. He sighed at the thought of it, hoping Agnette would ferret away some food for him. ‘You can’t watch them all the time.’
‘No.’ Ludo’s guilt didn’t ease. ‘I’ll have to go and tell Alys.’
‘You look like you’re about to cry!’ Torvig laughed, arms loaded with wood as he stopped beside them, peering at Ludo. ‘What’s happened?’
‘I’ve lost one of the women.’
‘Lost? They’re not boots!’ Torvig sniggered. ‘How do you lose a woman? You mean she’s run away?’ He frowned, not seeing Stina with the rest of Ludo’s group.
‘I suppose she has,’ Ludo admitted, edging away from Torvig. ‘I’ll go find Alys, tell her what’s happened.’ And turning away, he headed across the square.
‘Why do you have to make everything worse?’ Bjarni grumbled. He’d run out of patience with Torvig. The man was always niggling, never truly helping. He wished he’d never returned to Ottby.
‘Worse?’ Torvig eyed him, anger flaring. ‘You think we’d be better off with you by Reinar’s side? Like you always wanted? Ha! But you never were any use, Bjarni Sansgard. I know it, and Reinar knew it, which is why he begged me to come back.’
Bjarni frowned, shoulders tight. ‘What?’
‘You didn’t know?’ Torvig leaned in closer, happy again. ‘Reinar asked me to come, said he needed help. My help. He begged me to return when Stellan took ill.’
Bjarni didn’t let his surprise show in his eyes. ‘Well, he was desperate, I suppose. We all were.’
Torvig licked his lips, eyes sharp. ‘You think you’re better than me?’
Bjarni looked confused. ‘Better?’ He laughed. ‘I don’t think anything about you at all, Torvig.’ And deciding to keep moving before he froze to the spot, he stepped around the seething man, heading for the gates.
A laugh drew Torvig’s attention to the training ring, and he watched Tulia clapping as her brother picked himself up from the ground, wooden sword broken in two. She turned, catching Torvig’s eyes, shivering at the cold look in them.
Sigurd stood beside her, yawning.
Tulia’s smile was gone in a flash. ‘Perhaps you shouldn’t have sat up all night, drinking with the dreamer?’
Sigurd nudged her. ‘No need to get jealous. Ludo was there.’
‘Hmmm.’
Laughing, Sigurd turned back to the women. ‘Again!’ he cried. They each had a quiver strapped across their back, and he was trying to improve their speed now. Many could hit the targets, which was useful, but speed was needed to be truly effective on the ramparts. They couldn’t afford Hakon’s men having even a moment to think as they tried to climb the walls.
And they would.
‘Then we’ll try with fire arrows!’ He winked at Tulia, who was still stewing as she turned back to her own group of women with a scowl.
Sigurd’s amusement faded quickly, though, remembering the marks on Alys’ neck. He didn’t believe in magic or dreamers, but the wolf, and now those marks were both playing on his mind.
‘Well?’ Reinar wanted an explanation, but he couldn’t make any sense of Eddeth’s splutters. She had her back to him, crumbling dried herbs into cups, making a tea Reinar had insisted he didn’t want. ‘Eddeth?’
‘The gods are a mystery!’ she announced, not turning around.
Reinar glanced at Alys, who looked half-asleep, and just as bemused. ‘That may be so, but it’s not the question I asked. We need to know what happened to Alys. Is it a dreamer trying to kill her? Hakon’s dreamer?’ He felt deeply unsettled. The idea of the wolf was one thing – an illusion, a trick of the mind – but if the woman could reach into his fort and try to kill someone?
Reinar didn’t know what to think about that at all.
Eddeth poured boiling water over her herbs and returned the cauldron to its hook, joining Alys and Reinar by the fire while she waited for the tea to steep. Her attention was on the dance of the flames, her voice low. ‘The gods sprinkle the gift of dreams over those special few.’ There was a hint of resentment in her voice, and she coughed, clearing her throat. ‘Those dreamers are powerful, though not always knowledgable.’ Eddeth peered at Alys. ‘But some dreamers are helped by the gods themselves. Befriended. They learn more than an elder can share. More than any temple holds in its scrolls, any citadel or library. Those dreamers learn the secrets of the gods!’
The fire popped, and Eddeth’s eyes rounded, as though she was seeing something neither Alys nor Reinar could.
‘How do you know that?’ Reinar wondered.
‘Conversations!’ Eddeth exclaimed loudly. ‘Conversations!’ And without even blinking, she left the fire, forgot all about the tea, and returned to her bed where she picked up her grandmother’s book.
Reinar’s shoulders slumped. Eddeth was half-mad, they all knew that. Days would go by where she was lucid, and it was easy to forget how she could be. But it was usually when you needed to know something with urgency that she would ramble incoherently, disappearing back into herself again. He held out a hand to Alys. ‘I’ll take you back to your cottage, if you like? Or maybe to the hall?’ ‘We can see if they found your friend.’
‘My friend?’ Alys stood quickly. ‘Stina? What’s happened to her?’
Winter was sitting outside a disused shed, peering through a gap in the wooden palings, and Ludo decided to investigate.
With more and more warriors and their families departing Ottby, worksheds, barns, and homes were being abandoned, left to cats and dogs and rodents, who were likely enjoying the freedom to roam. So Ludo didn’t imagine that anything other than a few mice would be making themselves at home in the shed. It was therefore a surprise when he pulled open the creaking door to reveal a swollen-eyed Stina.
She sat on a hay bale, staring at him in terror, before scrambling to her feet, shaking all over.
Ludo’s shoulders dropped in relief. ‘There you are!’ He stepped forward, stopping when Stina started moving away from him. He held up a hand. ‘I won’t hurt you, Stina, I promise. I was just... worried about you. Jorunn and Vanya didn’t know where you were. I didn’t know where you were.’
Stina hadn’t known what she was doing. The sun had risen, and she’d felt the terror of Jorunn and Vanya coming out of the bedchamber. She couldn’t face them. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. It felt as though everyone could see inside her; that they could tell what had happened. But she didn’t want anyone to know. She didn’t want to think about it at all.
‘It’s cold in here. Why don’t you come back to the square? They’re bringing out food. Some hot porridge, I think. Roasted apples too.’
Stina stared at Ludo’s encouraging face, not wanting food, not wanting company. Wishing he hadn’t found her. But there was nowhere to go, nothing else she could do. So, nodding, she stood, squeezing her hands together in front of her thin blue dress as she stepped towards him.
Agnette wished she felt ill again. It had been so quiet in her chamber with the door shut and Gerda’s voice humming in the distance. Now the hall sounded like a barn of bleating goats, and she was struggling to think.
Stellan didn’t appear to mind as he sat before her, staring blankly past Agnette’s shoulder as she trimmed h
is beard with a newly sharpened pair of scissors. Agnette smiled, remembering how long she had been trimming her uncle’s beard. Before she was ever a woman. Back when it had been blonde like Reinar’s. Now it was mostly grey, she thought, standing back to check her progress. Still a little fluffy, she decided, moving around to his right, pulling the hair away from his cheek, missing the sound of his voice.
Stellan Vilander was like a father to Agnette; her mother’s twin brother. Her own father had died before she could remember him, and Stellan had been a constant presence in her life. A reassuring one. A kind one. He didn’t deserve to spend the rest of his days like this.
‘Agnette!’ Ludo called, entering the hall, shaking snow flurries from his hair.
‘Yes?’ She didn’t turn around, Stellan’s hair perfectly positioned between two fingers.
‘Have you seen Alys?’
‘No.’
Ludo turned to leave, not even tempted to stop by the fire to thaw out his hands for a moment. He was so distracted as he spun around that he banged into Alys, standing on her foot.
‘Aarrghh!’ Alys cried, stumbling backwards.
Ludo blinked. ‘Sorry! I didn’t see you.’
‘We’re going to have to lock you in your cottage, just to keep you safe!’ Reinar laughed. He wondered if that was true, catching a glimpse of Alys’ neck again.
Alys grabbed hold of Ludo’s arm. ‘What’s happened to Stina? Is it Stina who’s missing?’
Ludo shook his head. ‘Not anymore. I couldn’t find her earlier, but she turned up in the end. My fault entirely.’
Agnette could hear snatches of their conversation, interspersed with Gerda’s yelling from the kitchen, and curious, she left Stellan covered in beard trimmings, wanting to find out what was going on. ‘You lost a woman? How is that possible?’
‘They’re not prisoners anymore, Agnette,’ Reinar reminded her. ‘Not really. We weren’t watching them as we had been.’
‘What happened to your neck?’ Agnette was horrified, her attention snapping to Alys, who felt self-conscious as everyone in the hall appeared to turn towards her.
She grabbed her neck, feeling heat rush up her body.
Reinar was eyeing the doors, leg jiggling. ‘I have to go and find Bjarni. Snow’s coming, and so is Hakon Vettel, so we don’t have long to prepare.’ And with one last look at Alys and her bruised neck, he headed out of the hall.
Agnette followed Alys and Ludo to a table, scissors in hand. ‘Who did that to your neck?’
Alys didn’t know how to explain it.
‘A dreamer,’ Ludo decided. ‘Sigurd and I were with Alys when it happened. She started choking, as though someone was strangling her. And the marks came this morning, didn’t they?’
Agnette was speechless. ‘And you saw no one? Was it...’ She lowered her voice. ‘Magic?’
Alys shrugged.
‘It was,’ Ludo said. ‘It was, Agnette. No one was there, but Alys couldn’t breathe. Someone was choking her. You can see that.’
‘But I thought the curse was lifted? I thought we were turning a corner?’ Agnette peered at Ludo as he struggled back to his feet. ‘And what’s wrong with you?’
‘I dropped a poker on his foot,’ Alys admitted guiltily.
Ludo smiled. ‘You did, but don’t worry, I can walk fine.’ Though his first few steps proved that that wasn’t entirely true. ‘Perhaps you can help me take some food out into the square? I want to make sure the women have a good breakfast.’
‘I’ll help you too,’ Agnette insisted, trying to push herself back onto her feet, but it was getting harder by the day.
‘Agnette!’ came the screech from the back of the hall. ‘You’ve left Stellan half-finished, covered in hair!’
Agnette sighed. ‘Well, perhaps I won’t. But do come back and tell me if you find out what happened to your neck. I’ll help if I can.’
Alys nodded, eager to leave, wanting to speak to Stina.
There was so much Hakon wanted to know, but the blizzard worsened, and there was no chance of even seeing, let alone talking, and so he ploughed on, driving his horse forward, Ulrick riding just behind him and Ivan, beside Lief.
The girl had been taken into the wagon by Mother, who seemed both delighted and unfazed by her arrival.
Falla remained confused as she sat opposite them, trying to warm up the little girl’s frozen hands. ‘How did you get here, then? All by yourself?’
‘The man st-st-stole me,’ Lotta mumbled.
Falla stared at Mother, who ignored her.
‘Found you, don’t you mean? Saved you?’ Mother eyed the girl, who sat beside her, sullen and shaking. ‘Imagine if he hadn’t? Imagine if you and your brother had been left on your own? Think of what would have happened in this weather!’
Lotta couldn’t get away from the old woman. She was so wide that she took up most of the seat, and Lotta was wedged into the small space between Mother’s generous hips and the wall of the wagon. She swallowed, trying not to pull her hands away from the pretty, dark-haired woman sitting opposite them, next to the caged raven, which kept blinking at her.
But she wanted to.
‘Who is she?’ Falla wondered. ‘Why do you know about her?’
‘This one?’ Mother grinned, touching Lotta’s hair. ‘This one is a prize, aren’t you, girl? A prize and a weapon, both. And once we get ourselves settled for the night, we shall get to work!’
Falla released Lotta’s hands, and she retreated, trying to shrink into a ball, barely caring that she was out of the snow, away from Long Beard.
Very aware that she had just stepped into the mouth of the beast.
34
Alys stared at the fire, shivering.
She had tried to speak to Stina in the square, but the snow had come, and Ludo had ushered the women into the hall, much to Gerda’s annoyance. Alys, needing to think, had not followed them. Instead, she had been drawn back to her cottage, and her fire and the silence, which she hoped would bring some clarity to her muddled thoughts.
She saw visions often, more than she’d ever welcomed before. Usually, she would have dismissed them, knowing that to acknowledge her gifts would lead her down a dangerous path. Her grandfather had always warned her of that, so Alys had lived her life in the shadows, keeping her true self hidden. And now, when she wanted to call on her gifts, to give her the answers she needed, she didn’t know how to.
Winter miaowed, sitting by his empty bowl, and Alys smiled, getting up to pour him some milk. Her table was filled with a generous supply of food, and jugs of small ale and milk to see her and Winter through the coming snowstorm, though not what she needed to help her find any answers.
Her head and eye felt better, but her neck... that worried her.
Returning the milk jug to the table, she picked up the symbol stone Eddeth had given her. She wasn’t dead, the dreamer hadn’t killed her, so perhaps Eddeth had actually saved her life?
But what would the dreamer try next, and how could they stop her?
Alys sat back down on the stool, eyes on the flames, surprised when Winter jumped on her knee, rubbing his face against her arm. Alys looked down at him, stroking his white fur. ‘If only you could talk to me. Tell me what to do.’ Tears came quickly. ‘An army is coming to kill us. My children are taken, lost. And...’ She didn’t know what else, but Reinar’s face flashed before her, his hand touching her eye, his lips on hers. Tears spilled from her eyes, trailing down her cold cheeks. ‘I don’t know what to do.’
The day ended with everyone gathering in the hall, on edge. Any good feelings after the bonfire of cursed trees had gone, lost in the blizzard. No one looked happy, apart from Ilene, who had Amir right where she wanted him.
Which annoyed Tulia, who was watching her brother out of the corner of her eye. ‘Why has he brought her in here?’ she grumbled, nudging Sigurd, who was listening to Bjarni on his other side.
Sigurd turned to her. ‘He might just like her,’ he grinned. Amir did
look happy. Sigurd hadn’t seen his smile so wide since they’d all been in Kalmera together. ‘Why not let him be happy?’
‘With her?’ Tulia looked horrified.
‘You can’t pick who someone loves.’ Sigurd’s eyes drifted to where Gerda was brushing crumbs out of Stellan’s newly trimmed beard. ‘It’s not up to us to choose.’ The hall was warming up, and Sigurd edged towards Tulia until his thigh touched hers. ‘This might be the last time we’re all together. You never know what’s going to come for us out there. When. How. Why worry about Ilene and Amir? Or Torvig? Or Alys?’ He saw her twitch. ‘You don’t need to be jealous.’
‘Jealous?’ Tulia snorted. ‘I’m not jealous, Sigurd. Of the dreamer?’ She was whispering, not wanting anyone to hear. Not wanting anyone to think it was the truth. Wondering if it was the truth. ‘Why would you be interested in her?’ It was a question Tulia wanted an answer to. She had seen the way Reinar looked at Alys. Sigurd too. The dreamer was beautiful, Tulia supposed. Though timid. Shy and quiet. There was no fight in her at all. She was beaten up and beaten down.
So why did she feel so threatened by her?
‘Well, I’m not,’ Sigurd whispered. ‘So we don’t have to talk about it, do we? And if this is to be our last night together, I know what I’d rather be doing than talking about a dreamer.’ He smiled, turning his entire body towards Tulia now, his hand on her face. She stilled but didn’t pull away.
‘I suppose it’s too late to run,’ she sighed, edging closer.
‘You could. If you truly wanted to leave, you could. I won’t stop you.’ Sigurd searched her eyes, looking for clues. He wasn’t sure how he felt about anything anymore, but he knew he didn’t want Tulia to leave.
‘That isn’t what I want to hear, Sigurd Vilander,’ Tulia said sadly. ‘I know you couldn’t stop me. Of course you couldn’t. But do I want you to try?’ And pushing herself away from the table, she stood. ‘I’m going to check the ramparts. Get some air.’