by A. E. Rayne
He hadn’t noticed when Alys had pulled Stina away to go for a walk.
‘She won’t kill Lotta,’ Stina said after Alys had revealed her dream. ‘For what would she hold over you then?’
‘But what does she want?’
Stina didn’t know. ‘To threaten you? To stop you helping Reinar defend the fort?’
They walked to Valera’s Tree, Winter bounding along next to them, his white legs quickly splattered with mud.
‘But if I don’t help him, we may not survive what’s coming.’
Stina looked troubled. ‘What if it was just a dream? Your fears coming to life? Perhaps the old dreamer doesn’t have Lotta at all? How would she have her? It makes no sense.’
Alys started to let herself believe that Stina might be right, but she knew she wasn’t. She smiled, though, not wanting to worry her friend further. Stina looked anxious to leave, pale and fidgety. ‘You’re right.’ She tried to smile, her eyes on Ludo in the distance, who appeared to be searching for his missing crew member. ‘You’d better go back. I have to visit Eddeth. See what else she found in her book.’
Stina wasn’t listening. She had just seen Torvig approaching with Amir, and quickly spinning away from Alys, she hurried back to Ludo without a word.
Alys turned around to say something to her, surprised to find her gone.
‘Ahhh, the dreamer!’ Torvig announced, stopping before Alys, his eyes quickly drifting from her face to her breasts. ‘And what news do you have, I wonder? Will our enemy be at the gates today? Perhaps tomorrow? They must be getting close. Surely you can tell us what you know?’ He’d seen Alys talking to Stina, and it had him on edge, wondering just what the dreamer would discover. He wanted to distract her, hoping to keep her attention away from his little friend until he could think of what to do with them both.
Alys looked to Amir whose attention was on the training ring, searching for Ilene, and spotting her, he slipped away. Alys turned to Torvig, wishing she hadn’t just been left alone with him. ‘They’ll be here soon, I think. Very soon.’ That feeling was surprisingly clear now, like a mountain appearing before her. ‘I must go and see what I can do to help.’
Torvig grabbed her arm, pinching it as she tried to leave. ‘Keep your mind on what you can do to help Reinar save the fort. To keep these people safe. Not on how you can get into his bed and become his new wife.’ He was smiling, as though they were just talking, his eyes twinkling, but his voice was full of warning. ‘He already has one of those. My sister. And as soon as we’re done here, I’m going to help him get her back. And I can promise you, Elin won’t want you here when she returns.’ Torvig dropped her arm, watching Alys with a smile as she stumbled, hurrying away.
The weather was improving, Jonas thought, eyes on Magnus, who appeared alert. They had worked hard to feed him over the past few days, and his cheeks looked fuller, and his eyes much brighter than when they’d found him. He appeared to have slept well, and now he rode along on his pony, wrapped in Jonas’ bed fur, which looked to be keeping him warm.
It was all they could do, and Jonas hoped Alys would feel comforted if she could see him in her dreams. He thought of his granddaughter often, never imagining that he would have encouraged her dreams with such enthusiasm. But he had never been more grateful to know that she was a dreamer. That she was out there, somewhere, guiding them.
He turned to Magnus with a grin. ‘You really think Lotta’s a dreamer? She’s very young. Not sure I’ve heard of someone so little having dreams before.’
Magnus had been thinking the same thing, and he almost bit his tongue in surprise. ‘Yes, I do. The more I think about it, the more it all makes sense. There were things I saw before, but I didn’t understand them. Things my mother would say, or do, as though she could see inside my head. Lotta’s the same.’
Jonas laughed. ‘I know how that goes. Your thoughts are never your own around a dreamer!’
Vik rode quietly beside them, his eyes constantly sweeping the trees. ‘Do you think these men could make it to Slussfall, Magnus? How ill were they?’
Magnus tried to remember. ‘One looked ill. The other man? The one who had Lotta... I’m not sure if he was ill at all.’ He hated seeing images of Long Beard. It made him angry and impatient, but the days stretched ahead of them like the winding mountains, and Magnus was old enough to know that they could not push their horses too hard. Nor themselves. Not in this dangerous weather.
Vik looked relieved. ‘We can only hope that’s so. Best your sister has someone to care for her, no matter who he might be or what he might do.’ His eyes met Jonas’, and he saw the concern in them.
‘But how far away is Slussfall?’ Magnus wondered, already hungry again. He didn’t want to say so, though, knowing that both men were working hard to feed him before they fed themselves.
‘We’re getting there slowly. We may even be able to start tracking them soon, wouldn’t you say?’ He glanced at Vik, who nodded.
‘There aren’t many roads from here leading to Slussfall. We’ll crest the mountains soon, so we can ask about those men in Vallen. See if there’s been any sign of them. We can’t just ride straight into the fortress. We’ll need to approach it with care.’
Magnus looked hopeful and worried, and everything in between. His mother had tasked him with looking after Lotta, and he had lost her to those men; allowed them both to be captured. He felt terrible, but he knew that the only thing he could focus on now was getting Lotta back.
He tried not to think about his mother at all.
They were on the road again quickly, and Lotta felt ill.
Mother had burned strange-smelling herbs for much of the night, sometimes chanting, other times muttering angrily. It had been frightening and disturbing, and more than Lotta had ever wanted to see and know about dreamers.
Though, she knew in her heart that dreamers weren’t like this woman.
This woman was evil.
Falla had forced food into her, which she hadn’t wanted. And now, the rocking, creaking wagon was making her sick. They had left the mountains behind and were on flat terrain, but it was a bumpy ride, the road littered with holes from all the rain they’d been experiencing for months.
Falla felt sick too. She blew small breaths out through her nose, trying not to vomit, not wanting to inhale the smell of the stinking bird flapping irritably in its cage beside her.
‘That will be the baby,’ Mother grinned, one arm around Lotta, squeezing her tightly.
‘What?’ Falla was certain she would vomit now. ‘What? But you gave me those seeds. You told me they would work!’ She did not want a child. Not now. Not when she didn’t know how things would turn out. She wanted peace before she thought of such things again. ‘I don’t understand!’
Mother laughed, patting Lotta on the shoulder. ‘Ahhh, being a woman is always the same, no matter how high we rise or how far we fall. We must provide sons and heirs. Always sons and heirs! But that one there,’ she grinned, pointing at Falla’s belly. ‘That will be a daughter. Raven-haired, just like her miserable father.’ Falla looked even more horrified, amusing Mother further. She watched Falla’s pretty face contort itself with fury, before turning to Lotta. ‘Though your mother was pleased to have you, wasn’t she? Another little dreamer.’
Lotta froze, wondering if she had any secrets from the old woman.
Knowing the answer.
‘We must turn our attention to the battle now. To our role,’ Mother smiled. ‘For we will have one, won’t we? We will have the most important role of all.’ She pinched Lotta’s chubby cheek. ‘The famous walls of Ottby will not be broken by men, though it shall be amusing to watch them try. No, we must work hard to find a way into the fort that nobody has thought of before. But do not worry, my little pet, for there are many secrets yet to be revealed. And I am the mistress of all of them!’
When Alys reached Eddeth’s cottage, Eddeth was outside, watering her herbs. She had a small garden planted along the front o
f her house in a selection of old wooden buckets, though most of the herbs appeared dead, Alys thought as Eddeth rushed her inside, slamming the door behind her with a sneeze.
‘Oh, the night I’ve had!’ she exclaimed, pulling a damp cloth from her sleeve and loudly blowing her nose. ‘A night of revelations!’
Alys was rattled by her own dream and her conversation with Torvig, and she wasn’t sure she wanted any more revelations. ‘You have?’ she asked hesitantly, taking a stool.
Eddeth rushed over to her cauldron which was stewing something rich and meaty, stirring it with vigour. And adding a few sprigs of thyme, she stirred some more, sniffing. ‘Mushroom and nettle stew! A little bit of rabbit too!’ Eddeth smiled, reading the look on Alys’ face. ‘You can have some if you like.’ She instantly regretted that, feeling ravenous after her long night, but Alys shook her head, and Eddeth looked relieved as she took a seat next to her. ‘You are troubled?’
Alys was surprised that she’d noticed. Eddeth seemed very set on her own path, almost oblivious to others for much of the time. ‘I... had a dream. It was disturbing. Upsetting.’
‘Oh?’ Eddeth waited, but Alys remained silent, hands out to the fire. ‘Well, I expect it can be that way. Dreams often become nightmares, don’t they? Life can become the same. What you think you want often turns into everything you don’t need.’ She drifted away, seeing her own life in fragments, lost for a moment.
‘But you had a good night? You found something in your book?’
‘I did!’ Eddeth jumped off the tree stump, hurrying to her bed, grabbing the book. ‘I did!’ She opened it onto one of the first pages, running a dirty fingernail under a line, squinting. ‘My grandmother said Valera first came to her when she was a child. They became friends. She helped her with her dreams, spoke to her of humans, shared her knowledge. Over the years, she would visit her often, revealing some of the problems the gods had. The rivalries...’ Eddeth sat up straight, eyes on Alys. ‘Just like brothers and sisters, you know! Oh, I hated my brother. He was a stupid boy with teeth like a horse. Could chew his way through anything. Even wood!’ Eddeth shook her head, lost in her memories.
Alys held her gaze, waiting.
Eventually, Eddeth’s eyes sharpened again. ‘Where was I? Yes, oh, the gods! They fight like siblings, my grandmother said, which, of course, I think we know. To a degree, we know this. But what my grandmother reveals in here,’ Eddeth murmured, flicking through the pages, ‘is that some of the gods sought out dreamers to take their side. They endowed them with enhanced powers. Godlike powers!’
Alys swallowed, certain that whatever followed next would not be good. ‘How?’
‘With a spell. Magic. It can be done, you know!’ Eddeth tapped the page. ‘They turned dreamers into dark witches!’
‘Do you think she has these powers? Hakon Vettel’s dreamer?’
Eddeth nodded so urgently that her hair trembled like leaves on a tree. Placing the book on the floor, she hurried back to the cauldron, her stomach rumbling with urgency. ‘The danger grows, Alys!’ she called loudly. ‘I think we need to do more to protect ourselves. More symbols! More herbs! I have books and books of knowledge.’ She tapped her head. ‘All up in here! But what use is it if it stays there?’ And feeling an odd sense of clarity descend upon her, Eddeth grabbed a bowl, lumping a generous serving of stew into it, quickly grabbing a spoon. ‘We must act! Ottby’s walls cannot keep this dreamer out. She has shown us that! Just look at your neck!’
Alys watched Eddeth as she brought her bowl back to the stool and started shovelling the hot stew into her mouth, quickly burning her tongue. ‘I agree,’ she almost whispered, knowing that to do so would surely put Lotta in even more danger. ‘We must act now, before it’s too late.’
36
After finishing her stew, Eddeth left the fort on her old horse, heading for the forest. She had insisted upon being alone, needing to think. For all her enthusiasm, Eddeth did not do well in the company of others for long periods of time, and she had quickly become exhausted with having Alys nearby. So Alys had gone to find Agnette, who was pushing Stellan across the square in his wooden chair. It had been built by Sigurd, much to the relief of Gerda, who enjoyed getting him out from under her feet. Her husband’s constant presence, just staring at her from across the hall was unsettling. And upsetting. Memories she preferred to leave in the past often surfaced, and Gerda would need to escape the hall to try and put her mind to something else.
‘That looks hard!’ Alys called, watching Agnette struggle to reach the handle of the chair over her bump.
Agnette stood back, hands on hips, panting. ‘Didn’t used to be!’ she laughed, feeling a sharp kick in her belly. ‘Ooohhh.’
‘Are you alright? Agnette?’
Agnette nodded, trying to catch her breath. ‘Little wriggler has a foot on him, that’s for sure.’
Alys had a sudden image of a girl; blonde-haired and round-cheeked, just like her mother and father. ‘I’ll push,’ she offered, trying to gently nudge Agnette away from the chair, and nodding gratefully, Agnette fell in beside her.
The chair was heavy. Stellan Vilander was a big man, though not as big as he’d once been, she was sure. He appeared to be wasting away, stuck in his chair, day after day, but still, it was a heavy weight to push across the slushy ground. The snow had started to melt, the sun warming the fort, the frozen ground turning muddy.
‘Something’s happened,’ Agnette said, edging closer to Alys. ‘You look like something’s happened.’
Alys aimed the chair at the inner gates where she could see Sigurd talking to Bjarni. ‘I... had a dream about my daughter. Lotta.’ Tears came quickly, and Alys tried to blink them away.
‘Is she alright?’
‘I don’t know,’ Alys admitted. ‘I fear Hakon Vettel’s dreamer has her.’
‘What? Oh, Alys!’
‘I think she’ll try to use her against me. To stop me helping Reinar.’
That wasn’t what Agnette wanted to hear at all. She saw Reinar emerge from one of the guard towers by the gate, walking over to join Bjarni and Sigurd. ‘But if you don’t help him? If you can’t stop her?’
‘If I can’t stop her, none of us will live.’
‘Can Eddeth help you?’
‘I don’t know. Sometimes I think so. Other times I don’t know if she understands what’s happening.’ She saw the fear deepen in Agnette’s eyes as she gripped her belly, reminded of how vulnerable it felt to carry a child inside you. ‘But don’t worry, I’ll do whatever I can.’
Agnette nodded distractedly as Reinar, Bjarni, and Sigurd approached.
All three of them smiled at Stellan, Reinar patting his head. ‘Come to check the ramparts, have you?’ he said to his father. ‘Making sure we’ve got ourselves prepared for the Vettel spawn?’ He thought he saw Stellan twitch. ‘Not sure we can carry you up there, though.’ And he pointed to the stone ramparts where he could see Amir training the Ullaberg archers.
‘We could try,’ Sigurd grinned. ‘Give him a spear! You’d just need a little help, Father. I’m sure you could launch one at Hakon Vettel.’
Bjarni nodded. ‘Don’t think anyone’s beaten your record off the low wall yet, Stellan.’
They were all worried.
Alys heard it in their voices. She saw it in their eyes, and she felt an urge to get back to her cottage to see what she could do to help. She had to save her daughter and find her son, but neither would be possible if she couldn’t save the fort first.
Hakon was becoming increasingly frustrated with Ivan.
Suddenly everything his cousin did irritated him. He’d left their camp with Lief and Ulrick for company, furious that Ivan hadn’t even emerged from his tent. But after fumbling and rushing to pack and gather his things, Ivan had made his way up the line, pushing his horse in between Hakon and Lief, sheepish grin on his sleepy-looking face.
Hakon had barely spoken to him, though.
Ivan could almost see the triu
mphant smirk in Lief’s ruined eyes, as blank as they may have appeared to anyone else. That bastard wanted to get rid of him. He knew that for certain now. But how? By pushing him out? Making him lose Hakon’s trust?
Or by killing him?
Ivan grinned, turning to Hakon. ‘You remember when we last headed this way, Cousin? With your father? Everything looks smaller somehow. Less interesting. Certainly less threatening.’
Hakon muttered nothing Ivan could understand, turning instead to Ulrick. ‘What did you want with that girl?’ he wondered. ‘Why did you really keep her?’
Ulrick had been daydreaming about the softness of his wife’s ample tits, the familiar smell of their kitchen as she bent over the cauldron, round arse in the air. He blinked, sniffing. ‘We lost our only child. A daughter. Years ago now. Bergit could never fall pregnant after that. But a dreamer once told her that she’d have another daughter, so I thought I’d rescue that one. Give her a proper home.’
Hakon smiled. ‘Well, hopefully, you’ll be able to take the girl back to her.’
Ulrick froze, hands tightening around the reins. ‘Hopefully?’ He glanced back at the wobbling wagon.
‘Well, Mother seems attached to her, wouldn’t you say?’
Ulrick had noticed the old woman’s interest in the girl, of course. She had not let him near her. At first, he thought she wanted to care for her, like a woman would. But there was nothing maternal about the dreamer. And Ulrick had seen something else in Mother’s eyes that disturbed him.
Hakon obviously had too.
‘That would be... disappointing,’ Ulrick said haltingly, his displeasure souring his face. ‘Bergit would surely prefer I return with a child than coins.’
Hakon shrugged, brushing off Ulrick’s irritation. ‘But with a chest full of coins you can buy another girl, and get Bergit a son too!’ He met Ivan’s eyes and frowned, looking past him to Lief. ‘And what about you, Lief? Where are your sons? You must be growing impatient?’