by A. E. Rayne
Ivan stretched out his back, lifting his arms above his head. ‘Not long till we see the impenetrable beast rising in the distance.’
Ulrick’s eyes were on Lotta. ‘And she will rise. Those walls come at you like cliffs. There’s no escaping them.’
Hakon snorted, looking at Lief to give him some confidence.
And reading his lord’s eyes, Lief did. ‘From what you’ve said, Ulrick, there will be few manning the walls now. I imagine Reinar Vilander’s wishing he had a smaller fort. A simple fort would hold us out. There’d be no gaps. No holes for us to penetrate. But they’ll have to spread so thin. That fortress will be like an open door, inviting us in.’
‘Exactly!’ Hakon agreed, his confidence lifting. He wanted to be at Ottby before nightfall, though they were some way away yet. ‘But perhaps they know it? Perhaps there’ll be no fight at all? Just a white banner flying, gates open?’
Ulrick laughed. ‘I doubt they’ll be that generous, my lord. I’m sure those Vilander boys are hoping to cover themselves in glory before you cover them in their own blood.’
‘Glory?’ Hakon sneered. He didn’t plan on sharing glory with anyone. ‘I doubt that. But they can try.’ His eyes sharpened as Mother approached with the girl, who was wet up to her knees, face covered in berry juice. ‘You have news?’ He could see it in the dreamer’s crazed eyes, which always popped open whenever she had new information to impart.
‘I have a desire to get moving, Hakon Vettel, that is what I have!’ Mother cried. ‘We have drunk, we have eaten, and now we must prepare for war! You must ready your weapons, and I shall ready my own!’ She squeezed Lotta’s hand tightly, and the little girl yelped.
Ulrick glared at the old woman. ‘Perhaps you should let her ride with me? We are old friends, she and I, soon to be family once I get her back home to my wife. She enjoys riding, don’t you, princess?’ He crouched down, one hand out to Lotta, who froze, caught between the enemy standing beside her, and the one right in front of her. But she hadn’t even decided whether to nod or shake her head before Mother bustled past, finger wagging.
‘This girl is of no concern to you,’ she growled up at Ulrick. ‘And never will be, I can promise you that. She is mine! Mine alone. Mine to find useful or discard as I choose. Neither of which require you to have anything to do with her.’ And lifting her head high, she turned it to Hakon, daring him to disagree.
Now it was Hakon’s turn to feel caught. He laughed awkwardly, glancing at his horse. ‘A discussion for another time, I think, for now, we must get to Ottby!
Eddeth’s chin still had blood from the sacrifice smeared on it, and though Alys tried to point it out, Eddeth was too busy fussing around her herbs to listen.
‘Do you think the symbols on the gates will help?’ Alys wondered. They had decided to escape the noise of the hall and the chaos of the square, locking themselves in their new chamber, though Alys found it impossible to stop asking questions, which was odd, she realised, as she had recently become the one everyone asked questions of.
‘I think they’ll send a message to Hakon’s dreamer,’ Eddeth mumbled, adding two bay leaves to the bowl. She was working hard, grinding her ingredients into a powder, and though Alys had asked what it was for, Eddeth had refused to say. She was concentrating hard, her usually scattered mind focused on that singular task.
Alys realised that she should stop talking, for whatever Eddeth was doing might be helpful.
‘We want that dreamer far away from us, don’t we?’ Eddeth grinned, looking up for the first time in a while. She blinked, her vision blurry, trying to see just one of Alys. ‘And this will help. I’ve been reading all about it. How to block a dreamer’s sight. How to keep their prying eyes fixed elsewhere!’
Alys looked on curiously, but Eddeth had quickly turned back to her powder, grinding the herbs together, lips clamped shut. ‘I...’
Eddeth stopped, sensing that if Alys didn’t get out what she really wanted to say, she would never be able to get on. ‘I may be no dreamer, but you look weighed down by worries. Weighed down!’ And she left her pestle and mortar behind, dragging Alys to the bed. ‘You must tell me everything, for how can we work together if one of us keeps secrets?’
Alys peered at Eddeth, wondering whether she could read her mind. Or perhaps she was just hopelessly transparent? ‘I... Hakon Vettel’s dreamer, she... has my daughter.’
Eddeth blinked rapidly, then promptly sneezed all over Alys. ‘Well, that’s unfortunate! How did she get her, then? Your little girl? How did a woman like that get her hands on your daughter?’
‘I don’t know.’ Alys bit her teeth together not wanting to cry, though there was so much relief in being able to talk about Lotta that it proved impossible, and her eyes quickly filled with tears. ‘When Reinar took me, I sent the children away, told them to escape, to find my grandfather, who would look after them.’ She saw Eddeth’s eyes peel open further. ‘I have a son too. Magnus. He’s ten. Lotta is eight.’ She rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands, though her tears kept coming. ‘Though it all went wrong. Men took them, I heard it, though I don’t know how Lotta ended up with Hakon Vettel’s dreamer. I don’t.’
Eddeth pulled a damp cloth from her sleeve, offering it to Alys, who took it with some hesitation. ‘That is some secret indeed! You are right not to have told anyone, but somehow the dreamer saw, didn’t she? Somehow she saw! And now she has your girl.’ Her eyes were still blurry, full of worry.
‘What will the dreamer do to her?’
‘Use her.’ Eddeth sneezed again, eyeing her damp cloth. ‘To hurt you.’
Alys froze, knowing she was right.
She handed Eddeth’s cloth back to her, looking away as she blew her nose with vigour, wanting to let all thoughts slip out of her mind now.
Desperate to see some sign of Lotta.
Ivan could tell that Ulrick was stewing over the girl.
‘Why do you care so much about that child?’ he wondered. ‘There are many children you could take back to Slussfall. Why do you want that one?’
Ulrick’s smile was a sad one. ‘She looks just like my own daughter. That hair. I used to brush Gala’s hair every night by the fire while I told her stories of my battles. She liked to hear of warriors fighting. Of the gods fighting too.’ His voice faded quickly, and he remained silent, lost in the past.
It surprised Ivan, who had known Ulrick since he was a boy, though he had no memory of his daughter. ‘I’m sorry for you, and Bergit, but I think you need to look for another girl.’
Ulrick’s attention shifted from Ivan to Lief, and Hakon, who rode some way ahead of them. ‘Or not. I’ve defeated lords and monsters of every kind up in The Murk. That old bitch doesn’t scare me.’ He stared Ivan down. ‘I won’t let her keep the girl, know that.’
Ivan smiled. He hated Mother with a passion, and he was growing certain that she didn’t care whether Hakon became the King of Alekka at all. It was only the throne she wanted; the men and the power and the fleet of ships. Though Ivan knew he would have a hard time convincing his cousin of that. Hakon had invested all his hopes in the dreamer. He would not cast her aside easily.
‘Well, I imagine the girl would rather be with you and Bergit than stuck with that stinking crone.’ Ivan turned in the saddle, watching the wagon clattering behind them. No matter how far away Mother was, he felt her eyes on him. ‘But how would you get her away? That dreamer sees everything. Even inside your head.’ Ivan felt even more disturbed now, eager to change the subject. ‘Though you never know what will happen at Ottby. We may all change our minds about things after that.’
Ulrick could sense Ivan’s unease, and he shared in it, but the girl was his. He had found her, and whatever he had to do, and whoever he had to fight, he was going to take her back to his wife.
Magnus looked sad, his head drooping as the afternoon wore on.
‘What is it?’ Jonas asked, handing the boy a hard biscuit. ‘Watch your teeth on that. Think I shook
one loose!’ He winked, but Magnus didn’t smile as he took the biscuit, nodding his thanks. ‘Something’s eating you. Lotta maybe?’
Magnus shook his head. ‘No, my mother. I keep thinking about what they’re doing to her, the men who took her. She doesn’t deserve it. She’s a good woman, you know.’
Jonas nodded. ‘I know, and no, she doesn’t. She’s been through a lot, with your father, with what happened, but you needn’t worry about her. She can take care of herself. She can protect herself.’
Magnus snorted.
‘You don’t think so?’
‘I’ve never seen her fight back. I saw what my father did to her. I...’ It was hard to see the images; hard to hear his mother’s cries of pain and fear. ‘You’re wrong,’ he insisted. ‘She can’t fight.’
Memories flitted towards Jonas like butterflies, making him wistful for the past once more. He blinked, trying to focus. ‘I taught her how to protect herself. Vik helped.’ He nodded at Vik, who was busy trying not to break his own teeth on a biscuit. ‘How to hunt and use weapons. She knows many things.’
Magnus looked stunned. ‘She does? But... I don’t understand. Why didn’t she fight my father, then? Why didn’t she make him stop?’
Jonas felt anger heat his body like flames. The idea that Arnon de Sant had hurt and terrorised his precious granddaughter made him furious, though the man was dead, shot through the chest, his cruel reign of terror finally over.
Though, Jonas knew, thinking of Alys, the scars would remain.
‘I don’t know, Magnus. Your mother is gentle, and fighting is not in her nature. But she knows how, don’t you worry. She knows how.’
Leaving Eddeth to her powders and potions, Alys went for a walk around the square, wanting a moment to think. The noise was just as intense outside, which was surprising, she thought, with far fewer people in the fort than before, though those fewer people were still rushing around with purpose, creating an ear-splitting din.
One of them was Tulia, who grumbled as she hurried past, muttering something about Alys moving out of the way.
‘Wait!’ Alys called, turning after her. ‘Tulia!’
Tulia’s frown was intense as she spun around, holding a full quiver of fire arrows in her arms. ‘What? I have to get to the wall.’
She didn’t move.
Alys walked towards her, nervous now. ‘I... saw you in my dreams last night.’
Tulia’s frown relaxed slightly, a hint of worry in her eyes. ‘And?’ She wanted to know everything and quickly, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask.
‘I don’t know,’ Alys admitted. ‘I don’t know why or what it meant, but you were in pain, I think. You were screaming.’
Tulia blinked. ‘Well, there are many reasons to scream, and not all of them are bad.’ She squared her shoulders, scowling at Alys. ‘Why not keep your dreams for Reinar? He seems to like receiving them. Perhaps he has use for them, but I certainly don’t.’ And swinging around, Tulia strode towards the guard tower.
Alys stared after her, sharp pains shooting into her chest.
Ludo stopped beside her. ‘Tulia is... interesting,’ he grinned, following her gaze. ‘Sometimes, it’s hard to see what Sigurd does. Other times, it’s easier. She has a heart, I think, it’s just hidden.’
Alys wasn’t convinced that was true. She turned to Ludo. ‘How’s Stina? She’s barely speaking to me.’
‘Me either, though I don’t expect her to want to talk to me, of course. The other women seem more alert, I think. But Stina...’ He felt odd because she was his to care for, though he doubted Reinar or Sigurd would see it that way. But Ludo did. He enjoyed watching over his group of women. He cared about keeping them safe.
Alys saw Stina in the distance, but someone was calling her name from outside the hall, and she sighed. ‘Please watch Stina for me,’ she pleaded. ‘I can’t talk to her now, there’s too much to do.’
Ludo nodded, noticing that the sun was starting to sink. ‘You’re sure they’ll be here today? Not much left of it now.’
Alys was beginning to wonder that herself. ‘If my dreams are to be believed, they will be.’ And then she had a sudden realisation. When the army was here, the dreamer would be here.
And so would Lotta.
Feeling her hopes both rise and fall, Alys turned away from Ludo, almost running back to the hall.
Desperate to get away from Mother, Falla had made Lief find her a horse, and she rode towards the stone fortress beside him, away from Hakon and Ivan, who were riding ahead with Ulrick.
The trees were dark and thick, the canopy dense above their heads, and despite the rattling, thumping, creaking noises of their long column, it almost felt private.
‘I am with child.’
‘What?’ Lief had not been expecting that. ‘What?’ His dour face lit up, his mouth open, eyes unblinking. ‘You are?’
Falla took no pleasure in his pleasure. She didn’t love him. She desired him at times, enjoyed his company occasionally, and she needed him to protect and support her and her son. But Falla didn’t believe she actually loved him.
She had not wanted a child yet. She had wanted to wait and see.
Forcing a smile, she touched her stomach with her left hand. ‘Mother says so, and who am I to argue with that woman?’
‘You’re not happy?’ Lief was sharp-eyed and intelligent. He saw more than Falla ever realised. ‘Perhaps you did not want another child?’
Falla shook her head quickly, brightening her eyes as she turned her face up to his. ‘No, it’s not that. It’s the moment we are in, here, before a battle. That’s how I ended up pregnant and widowed last time. I wanted to wait. I wanted a home.’
Lief could see that, and it eased his worry. ‘The battle won’t be long, my love. They don’t have enough men for a siege. We will break in with relative ease, I promise.’
Falla wasn’t as confident, her sharp eyes focused on the fort in the distance now. ‘They appear to have a lot of walls. High ones too.’
‘We have everything we need to climb those walls. Archers, arrows, spears, catapults, towers. We’ve brought everything we need. Even an old dreamer.’ Lief did feel confident. Ivan was a fool, but a masterful warrior and their men liked him well enough to follow him to their deaths if necessary. Hakon was no fool, but he was young and still inexperienced in leading men to war. He had been boosted by their resounding defeat of Sirrus Ahlmann and their capture of Slussfall. But that had gone to his head, and he didn’t see that some fights would require more than just battering their opponent into surrender.
Falla glanced back at the wagon, knowing that Mother would do everything in her power to make them successful. And her powers were great indeed. ‘Then you should not fail, should you, Husband?’ Reaching a hand towards Lief, she clasped his. Falla was a strong woman, but she did not wish to be left alone by another husband. Not with only Mother and her son for company. She needed a man, and for the moment, that man was Lief Gundersen.
Ivan tried not to look around, but knowing that Falla was riding just behind him proved irresistible. He glanced at Lief, who was barely looking where he was going. His eyes were all over his wife, though there was not even a hint of a smile on his face.
The miserable prick.
Lief could find a frown on the brightest of days, on the drunkest of nights. But Ivan doubted that even Lief would be able to keep that frown going as they toasted their victory over the Vilanders.
If he lived to see it.
Ivan’s attention drifted to Falla, who looked especially delightful in her red cloak. He hadn’t seen that one before, constantly surprised by how many cloaks the woman had. Not disappointed, though, for every new one seemed to complement her more than the last.
Hakon elbowed him. ‘At this rate, you’ll be leading our men with a knife in your back!’ he laughed, feeling a lift as the walls of Ottby came into focus. He had dreamed of this moment for three years, and he thought of Anders, wishing he’d brought him a
long, wanting him to feel the pride he had felt as his own father led his men into battle.
‘You think I couldn’t kill that old man? Ha!’ Ivan sneered, confidence surging at the thought of what lay ahead. ‘If you think that, you may as well put Lief in charge. Why do you need me?’ He cracked his neck from side to side, eyes on the fortress.
‘Don’t think I haven’t thought about it.’
Ivan laughed, turning to his cousin, who eyed him coldly, no hint of humour in his strange blue eyes. He was reminded of his uncle, Jesper Vettel, a man so heartless that he’d killed Hakon’s mother for some small slight, some mere hint of impropriety. And yet, Hakon still idolised the man. As did Ivan, if he were honest. Jesper had been a peerless warrior and a leader.
Though as a man...
Hakon was just like him. Only victory would slake his thirst for vengeance, and only victory with no mercy would be tolerated.
‘Well, Cousin, then I will have to remove all doubt. I will have to show you why you were right to choose me in the first place.’
Hakon nodded, pleased that Ivan had spoken the words he’d needed to hear. He didn’t want doubt or regret.
He only wanted an end to the Vilanders.
Reinar stood on the low wall, watching the mounted horses emerge through the mist-touched forest, wanting to see how big Hakon’s army truly was. In his mind, it was either small or immense, never something manageable in between.
Sigurd stood beside him, hands on the wall.
The fort was quieter now as the sun began to set, the sky awash with orange and red hues, bleeding into each other like flames; all of them leading down to the ever-growing mass of warriors forming in the distance.
‘He’ll have the Slussfall men. His own from Orbo. The ones he picked up in Valma and Osten too.’ Sigurd barely blinked, waiting, watching as the mass thickened.
‘Those he didn’t kill. If he’s anything like his father, perhaps there won’t be many?’ Reinar’s body hummed with tension and excitement. He clenched his jaw, watching. ‘He won’t attack tonight.’