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

by A. E. Rayne

  And then she thought of her children.

  ‘He did. He taught me how to kill bastards like you.’ Alys spread her legs, pushing her feet down into the straw, knowing that Torvig would go high, and as he lifted his blade to her head, she lunged low, dragging Tulia’s sword across his bleeding waist, stumbling back, sword up to parry his next strike, feeling the shock of the blade’s meeting shoot up her arm.

  Torvig was bellowing, and Stina was holding her breath, and Tulia was dead.

  And Alys felt like someone who hadn’t picked up a sword in years.

  She squeezed both hands onto the grip again, panting as Torvig charged forward, slashing quickly from side to side, bored now, wanting to end the dreamer and finish what he’d started with his lovely Stina.

  Alys jumped back, just out of his reach, eyes wide, holding her breath, Arnon’s voice in her ear. And then her grandfather’s again. Lunging forward, she brought Tulia’s sword up, feeling too slow, too rusty. Dropping her left hand, Alys lifted her blade high, aiming it at Torvig’s throat. He grinned, not surprised that she didn’t know what she was doing, leaving her chest exposed like that. He swung back his blade, ready to cut her in two, but Alys dropped all her weight onto her right leg, swaying out of Torvig’s reach, dragging her sword across his left arm, straight across his elbow.

  Torvig bellowed, jerking his arm away, distracted by the shock and the pain. Alys charged him, one eye on his sword arm, which was slow to respond, and twisting her wrist, she turned the blade over, stabbing it through his chest.

  Feeling the tip of the blade breaking skin, Alys pushed hard.

  Mouth open, Torvig dropped his sword, reaching for Alys whose sword was still in his chest. And he pulled her to him, feeling the blade dig through muscle, pushing himself forward, onto Alys, who had nowhere to go as he fell on top of her, his sword’s pommel digging into her side. She wriggled in the straw, trying to move his crushing weight. He was badly injured, likely dying, but it wouldn’t make any difference if she couldn’t move him off her chest. ‘Stina!’ she panted. ‘Knife!’ She stuck out her right hand, panicking, struggling to breathe.

  Torvig could feel darkness descending upon him like a storm, but he wasn’t about to let that bitch end him. He wasn’t going to leave her behind victorious. So moving his hands to her throat, he started squeezing, pain washing over him like water, hotter and hotter. He felt sick, but teeth gritted, Torvig squeezed, wanting to kill her.

  Alys remembered the bruises around her neck, the feeling of not being able to breathe, the fear of death coming. And then the feel of the cold knife haft in her hand, and, gasping for air, she rammed the blade into Torvig’s ear. He roared, jerking up, and Alys slid out from under him, scrambling back to her feet, bloody knife in hand, panting, waiting.

  Torvig stayed on his knees for a moment, sword through his chest, blood gushing from his ear. And then, eyes rolling back in his head, he tipped forward, into the rotting straw, Tulia’s sword pushing straight through his chest, bloody blade poking out his back.

  Stina rushed to Alys. ‘Is he dead?’

  Alys dropped to the straw with a thump, unable to catch her breath, unable to stop shaking. And then she felt Stina beside her, arm around her shoulder.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry. He... he threatened me. He... he... hurt me.’ Her sobs overwhelmed her and Stina made no sense after that as she held on to Alys, shuddering in relief.

  ‘Ssshhh, it’s alright,’ Alys soothed, though she wasn’t really listening.

  Tulia was lying there dead, and she knew that she’d have to tell Sigurd.

  Instead, she told Reinar, who told his brother.

  After Reinar had found Eddeth to take care of Alys and Stina. After he’d retrieved Tulia’s body and Torvig’s.

  Reinar felt responsible. Not even Sigurd had liked Torvig, and when Reinar thought about it, he realised that the only reason he’d kept him around was out of loyalty to Elin.

  That had been a deadly mistake.

  Sigurd had taken Tulia’s horse and left the fort immediately, the shock rendering him silent and numb, and most of all, broken-hearted.

  Reinar turned to Alys, who stood beside the horse Ludo had chosen for her. She hadn’t wanted to take Elin’s horse, and he didn’t blame her. ‘You’re still leaving?’

  Alys nodded, fighting the blustery wind for control of the black cloak. ‘I must. I can’t delay.’

  ‘I should send someone with you.’ Reinar stared into her eyes, wanting to say more. Wishing she would stay. ‘Just to help. Build a shelter, hunt, chop wood. Anything.’

  Eddeth was growing impatient behind them. ‘Snow will be here soon, and we’ll need to get in a good day before we stop for the night!’ She felt anxious to be leaving, upset about abandoning Rigfuss, though Ludo had promised he would take care of him, and Alys’ cat too. Eddeth frowned, doubting Rigfuss would be pleased about that.

  ‘Let them go, Reinar!’ came Gerda’s sharp voice. ‘We’ve a fort to rebuild and an army to muster. Ake will be up soon, I’m sure, and he’ll have plans for you today. You want to show him you’re making an effort.’ Gerda stared at the dreamer, and though she felt some small sense of gratitude, she was just as pleased for the woman to be gone. And Eddeth was no loss, easily replaced. No, she would be relieved to have all the women gone. It would focus both Sigurd and Reinar on what they needed to do next.

  Reinar ignored his mother’s icy mutterings. He didn’t appreciate them.

  Not at all.

  ‘Here.’ And reaching back to Ludo, Reinar took the scabbard and sword he’d found for her; one of Tulia’s old ones. He hoped Sigurd wouldn’t mind. ‘Take this.’

  Alys hesitated. It wasn’t her. It wasn’t who she wanted to be.

  But looking at Eddeth and Stina, she realised that she would need to protect them. And besides, she couldn’t run from who she was anymore.

  Her time in Ottby had taught her that.

  ‘Thank you.’ And taking the swordbelt, she tried to lift up her cloak and wrap it around her waist, but she fumbled, flustered, feeling Gerda glaring at her. More than Gerda; the square was full of onlookers, and Alys just wanted to leave.

  Reinar took the swordbelt, and as Alys lifted her cloak, he leaned in close, tying it around her waist, struggling with his left arm. ‘Stay safe,’ he whispered in her ear, his beard brushing her cheek. ‘Stay safe, Alys the dreamer.’

  Alys smiled at him, turning to her horse, wriggling to move the swordbelt around. She hopped onto the little step Ludo had kindly brought out for them to mount their horses with, sticking a boot in the stirrup.

  ‘Wait! Alys!’ Agnette was waddling towards her as quickly as her weary body would allow. She held her baby in her arms, wrapped in a warm fur, Bjarni behind her. ‘We’ll miss you. And we thank you!’ She glared at her sour-faced aunt. ‘For all you did. You helped save us!’

  ‘And you got rid of that shit Torvig too!’ Bjarni added with a grin, his face falling when he thought of Tulia and Sigurd.

  Alys felt embarrassed. ‘Take care of yourselves. I wish you luck getting some sleep!’ And settling her cloak over her knees, she turned, peering down at Reinar Vilander, who looked wrecked and broken and like a man who would one day be a king.

  She blinked.

  Then smiled.

  And tapping her boots against her horse’s flanks, she aimed her at Ottby’s broken gates, Eddeth and Stina following her.

  Reinar watched Alys go, shivering, unable to stop staring as the fort sprang back to life, Agnette and Gerda muttering behind him, Ludo and Bjarni talking about Sigurd and whether anyone should go and find him.

  It was all a blur of noise and activity.

  And Reinar didn’t notice any of it.

  He heard Salma’s voice in his mind, his old dreamer...

  She will come to you like rain after a drought. And she will save you. And you will forever be changed by her, Reinar.

  And you will love her.

&
nbsp; But you must let her go.

  Promise me, Reinar. When she has saved you, set the dreamer free.

  Promise me...

  Reinar stepped forward, hand out, before dropping it back to his side, and turning away, he walked slowly back to the hall.

  THE END

  Epilogue

  The pain had subsided some time ago.

  He had been unconscious for days. Bedridden for more.

  His body had weakened, but his mind was more focused than ever.

  Arnon de Sant gripped the haft of his spear, aiming for the target in the distance. The boy kept moving it too close. He thought about simply aiming for the stupid boy instead.

  The thick pink scars across his tattooed chest rippled angrily in the bright morning sun.

  Snow was on the ground, almost up to his ankles, but the sky was a clear, deep blue; the colour of his eyes, Arnon thought, turning to the side, feeling the balance of the spear in his hand. And dropping his weight onto his right leg, he brought the ash shaft back to his ear, launching it at the target. Imagining it was the man who had taken his wife.

  Reinar Vilander.

  He’d heard of him. The Lord of Ottby.

  Reinar Vilander and his brother had taken everything from him. His children were gone too. And as soon as he was strong enough, as soon as he was ready to kill with his bare hands again, he would leave Ullaberg behind.

  It was time to get his family back.

  What Comes Next?

  Book Two in The Lords of Alekka series will be released in December 2020,

  so sign up to my newsletter to get notified when it comes out!

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  Some things about me, the author

  I live in Auckland, New Zealand, with my husband, three kids and three dogs. When I’m not writing, you can find me editing, designing my book covers, and trying to fit in some sleep (though mostly I’m dreaming of what’s coming next!).

  I have a deep love of history and all things Viking. Growing up with a Swedish grandmother, her heritage had a great influence on me, so my fantasy tales lean heavily on Viking lore and culture. And also winter. I love the cold!

  I like to immerse myself in my stories, experiencing everything through my characters. I don’t write with a plan; I take cues from my characters, and follow where they naturally decide to go. I like different points of view because I see the story visually, with many dimensions, like a tv show or a movie. My job is to stand at the loom and weave the many coloured threads together into an exciting story.

  I promise you characters that will quickly feel like friends, and villains that will make you wild, with plots that twist and turn to leave you wondering what’s coming around the corner. And, like me, hopefully, you’ll always end up a little surprised by how I weave everything together in the end!

  Connect with me

  a.e.rayne@aerayne.com

  http://aerayne.com/

  Books by A.E. Rayne

  Winter’s Fury (Book 1)

  The Burning Sea (Book 2)

  Night of the Shadow Moon (Book 3)

  Hallow Wood (Book 4)

  The Raven’s Warning (Book 5)

  Vale of the Gods (Book 6)

  The Furyck Saga (Books 1-3)

  Copyright © A.E. Rayne 2020

  All artwork © Cap & Anchor Design Co. Ltd

  A.E. Rayne asserts the moral right to be identified

  as the author of this work.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters, and places described in it are the work of the author’s imagination.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Amazon ASIN: B07G8WS24B

  For more information about A.E. Rayne

  and her upcoming books visit:

  www.aerayne.com