Across the Sea (Islands in the Mist Series Book 2)

by J. M. Hofer

  “Shh! She’ll hear you!” Bran scolded. “Enough of this. Your fear is ruling you. Don’t you see that? You have to stop allowing it to poison our lives. Trust me, if they return, I won’t rest until I part all three of their vile heads from their bodies, along with the Raven King’s. You must be content with that.”

  “Not if you’re at sea, you won’t! And what do you mean, if?” Lucia grew even more upset. “Do you doubt what I’ve been shown? Even so, do you doubt the words of Arawn, the lord you’ve sworn to serve? And what of my nightmares?”

  Nearly every night for the last moon, Lucia had dreamt of a raven the size of an eagle flying over their village at dusk, holding a glowing red coal in its beak. The raven dropped the coal onto the roof of the motherhouse, setting it aflame. The fire spread and devoured the rest of the village, leaving it a smoking waste that blacked out the sky.

  “I believe in you, woman!” Bran propped himself up and looked her in the eyes to make his point. “—But you’re handing our lives over to the enemy already by dwelling on this horror! You must stop.”

  She knew he was right, but was too upset to admit it. She also knew his desire to go to sea was clouding his judgment. She pushed him away when he tried to hold her, but he would not allow it. He pulled her close and held her tightly. “No, you’ll not turn away from me again.”

  Me, turn away from him? she thought, incredulous. Is that what he thinks?

  He lay there for some time, and then let out a long sigh. “You may be right,” he conceded. “Going to sea this summer is probably not wise. I’ve waited this long—I may as well wait another year.”

  Lucia’s heart soared at her victory.

  “I’ll refuse Irwyn’s offer, but we’re still going to the celebration tomorrow, as planned. A trip to Gwythno is always good for the soul. It’ll do us some good.”

  Lucia let out a sigh of relief and squeezed him. “Yes, of course. Thank you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Smoke and Fire

  The journey to Gwythno was especially pleasant. Bran had invited Maur and his family to join them, as well as Taliesin. It had been awhile since he had last seen his father, and he knew Elffin would be overjoyed to see him.

  Lucia and Bran rode in front, enjoying the mild weather and chatting about whatever came to mind. Maur’s youngest son, Rhys, now eighteen, drove the wagon, with Gareth by his side. Arhianna and Taliesin rode in the wagon, along with Maur’s wife, Buddug, and his three granddaughters. Maur brought up the rear, singing and joking with the girls.

  It was afternoon on the second day when the smell of the ocean rode in on the breeze. Lucia glanced over at Bran and smiled. Though she was jealous of his desire to go to sea, time spent in Gwythno had always been good for them as a couple. “Almost there, love,” she said in anticipation.

  She slowed her horse and rode alongside the wagon. “Girls, do you smell that?”

  Her daughter’s face lit up. “The sea! Oh, I love that smell! We’re almost there!” The little girls squealed and crawled all over her, tumbling around like puppies. “Huzzaaahhhhh! Almost there! Whoopee!”

  Lucia chuckled. “Bronwyn’s babe will be born in the fall, is that right?” she asked Buddug.

  “Aye,” Buddug replied with a smile, “hopefully before the cold sets in.”

  Lucia shook her head in disbelief. “Gods be good, your fourth grandchild!”

  “Can you believe it?” Buddug beamed. She loved nothing more than being surrounded by her children and grandchildren.

  Lucia glanced over at Maur, who arched his brows and gestured to his granddaughters. “Hopin’ I’ll have a wee grandson to bounce on my knee this time—the lads and I are gettin’ outnumbered!”

  “Well, the odds are good, Maur,” Lucia said, adding a wink of encouragement. “And Rhys, you’ll soon be the best brewer in the clan, I hear. Seems you’ve learned your craft well.”

  Rhys looked over and smiled. “Let’s just say it’s a passion, my queen.”

  Maur laughed. “That’s my boy! We’ve brought a barrel of his best as a gift for Garanhir—if it passes Gwythno standards, we’ll know we have a new brewmaster in the clan.” He winked at his son.

  It was not long before the towers of Gwythno appeared on the horizon. Elffin was there, wearing a smile, waiting to greet them when they reached the gates.

  Taliesin jumped out of the wagon and ran to embrace him, and Elffin squeezed him tightly. “Oh, my boy.”

  Lucia saw such longing on his face as he held Taliesin, and her heart ached for him. Poor Elffin—still so lonely. Over the years, she had offered to introduce him to women in the clan whom she thought would suit him, but he had always refused. “No, my true love has come and gone,” he told her. “I’ll never love another.” She had never asked him about it again, but whenever he came to visit them at Mynyth Aur, she always chose someone special to sit next to him at their feasts. She still held hope that, eventually, her efforts would succeed, and he would find love again.

  She waited her turn, and then Elffin opened his arms to her as well. “I’m so happy you’ve come and brought the children. I miss my boy. Come inside—we have much to talk about.”

  ***

  For the next two days, the Oaks enjoyed the beauty of Gwythno and its lavish hospitality.

  Bran and Maur spent most of their time with Irwyn and Elffin. They visited the shipyard during the days, and spent the evenings drinking and talking about trade voyages.

  Lucia and Buddug were left to spend most of their time with the children. They took ambling walks along the verdant cliffs in the morning, spent the afternoons down in Seal Cove, and enjoyed feasting in Elffin’s hall after sundown. Though she was enjoying herself, she felt disappointed that the visit was not bringing her closer to Bran, the way she had hoped it would. The past two nights, he had not come to bed until long after she was asleep.

  On their third day there, things got worse. Bran and Maur accepted an invitation to spend the night down in the Oak Village by the shipyard as guests of their former kinsmen, so would not be with them at all that afternoon or evening. The apprentices whom Irwyn had selected fifteen years prior were now fully-vested shipbuilders, sharing equally in the profits of Gwythno’s trading voyages. Over the years, they had built a good solid village for themselves on the land granted to them by Garanhir, complete with a tavern that also served as a meeting hall.

  “We’re a couple of widows, it seems,” Buddug joked to her at dinner that night.

  Lucia did her best to hide her irritation, but her patience was running thin. “One thing’s clear. It may not be this summer, but I’d best get used to the idea of Bran going to sea. I can only pray it won’t be for a long time.”

  Buddug nodded. “Yes, he needs to get that bee out of his tunic. Let him miss you and the children awhile. My father was a fisherman. It’s a hard life. Trust me, after a few moons at sea, he’ll be longing for the solid ground beneath his feet and a woman to wrap his arms around.”

  Lucia let out an exasperated sigh and finished off her wine. “I hope you’re right.”

  ***

  Oh, gods, what’s wrong? Lucia’s eyes shot open to the sound of the bells clanging from the towers.

  She jumped out of bed and ran to the window, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The faint glow of morning had begun to light the sky. She scanned the landscape below. Many were out of their houses, armed with pitchforks or spears. All the dogs in the village were barking and growling.

  Moments later, the reason for the bells became clear. Her stomach dropped as she spied giants scaling the stone walls of Caer Gwythno, armed with axes and shields.

  Great Mother, is this it? She slowly realized they had left the safety of their village to run straight into the jaws of the beast she had feared for years. “We’re under attack!” she yelled, running down the hall.

  Buddug burst out of her chamber. “Oh, gods!”

  Together they ran to the room where the children slept.
>
  “What’s happening?” Arhianna blinked, trying to focus her eyes.

  “Get up!” Lucia threw her boots at her feet and yanked her daughter from her bed. “We’re under attack! Get your boots on! Oh, gods, where’s your father?”

  Lucia ran to where Gareth and Rhys were lodged, just in time to see them running off, armed for battle. Neither of them was ever without sword or shield.

  “Gareth!” she called.

  He spun around. “Mother! We’re under attack—we’re going to fight—protect yourselves!” He looked like a younger, darker version of his father, and sounded like one, too. Before she could say anything, he was gone.

  Her stomach jumped into her throat. I might never see him again—never see the man he’s to become. Over the past year, his voice had settled into a deep, woody baritone, and just last month, she had noticed that he had to stoop down to embrace her. The thought of losing him sent her mind reeling.

  A moment later, Arhianna, Buddug and the girls came running down the hall.

  “Get the girls down to Seal Cove and hide,” Lucia said to Buddug. “As long as you’re not seen descending the path, they’ll never think to look down there. You’ll be safe.”

  “And what about you?” Buddug asked, her face growing pale. “You’re not comin’?”

  “No. I’m staying to fight.”

  “I’m not going without you!” Arhianna said. “I can shoot as well as you can, and you know it!”

  It was true. Arhianna was the only one in the clan who could best her at archery, and they had no time to argue. Besides, if she sent her with Buddug, she would only defy her wishes and return. At least if she were with her, she could protect her. “Fine,” she agreed.

  Buddug nodded. “Gods protect you both,” she said, and then turned to her granddaughters. “We’re goin’ to have a wee game of hide-and-seek, girls!”

  “Yes!” Lucia said, following her lead. “Go and hide with your Grandmother, and Arhianna and I will try to find you!”

  Though the eldest was not fooled, their ruse seemed to placate the two younger ones. They went with Buddug toward the stairs that led down to the lower level of the castle. From there, they could steal away down the hidden path that led to Seal Cove.

  Lucia turned to Arhianna. “Come. We need our bows from the stables.” She anguished over her decision to leave them there, but, ironically, they had planned to go shooting that morning.

  The castle had descended into chaos, women shrieking as they gathered their children, and men running out to join the fight.

  She and Arhianna ran down to the stables to find the horses in distress. The stable boy’s house was on fire, and it was only a matter of time before the flames would engulf the stables as well.

  “We have to save them!” Arhianna cried. “Help me!”

  Together they unlatched all of the stalls. They finished just in time to see Gareth running out into the battle rolling in like a thunderstorm from all sides. It was only moments before he was engaged by the enemy. He took a heavy blow against his shield that sent him flying, landing him squarely on his back. He did not move.

  “No!” Arhianna screamed. She grabbed a pitchfork from a nearby haystack and foolishly charged her brother’s adversary.

  “Arhianna!”

  The giant saw her coming. He grabbed the pitchfork from her and tossed it aside as if it were nothing more than a twig. He knocked her down, grabbed her by the hair, and dragged her off. “Mother!” she screamed.

  Rage replaced her fear. Lucia scrambled up and grabbed her dagger. She would have only one chance. She watched the scene in front of her for an opportunity. When it came, she ran from her hiding place, leapt onto the back of her daughter’s attacker, and stabbed him through the neck with one swift plunge. She followed it quickly with one to the heart.

  The sound of a shower of arrows came from above, and Lucia looked up to see archers all along the western wall. That’s where we need to be. “Come on!” she yelled to her daughter, yanking her up. Hidden by the black smoke that billowed from the burning houses, they managed to run back to the stables unseen. She was glad to see the horses were gone. They grabbed their bows and ran up the stairs of the North Tower to where the archers were. It was the one place they could make a difference. The men guarding the tower recognized her and allowed them through.

  From atop the wall, Lucia realized why they had not seen Bran in the village—the true battle lay outside the walls. Every one of their men was engaged in combat with an invader. They looked like dwarves or children compared to the enemy. She scanned the battle desperately for her son and husband, but did not see them. Arawn, bless them with fierceness and courage. Great Mother, watch over them.

  “Hurry!” She grabbed an arrow from her quiver. “We must help them!”

  The hours of practice Lucia had insisted on, both for herself and her daughter, served them well in the fight. They aimed true, time and time again, killing several of the enemy.

  As the fight wore on, however, the wheel of fortune turned against them. The giants stormed the wall and sent men up both towers, trapping all who fought upon it. The men of Gwythno pushed Arhianna and Lucia toward the center, doing everything they could to protect them from the danger encroaching from both sides, but, one by one, the enemy cleaved, speared, stabbed or tossed their kinsmen from the wall to their deaths upon the rocks below.

  It was only a matter of time before the giants would reach them. Desperately, Lucia prayed, Great Mother! What do I do? Tell me, and I’ll obey. I swear, this time, I’ll obey!

  A moment later she heard the Great Mother reply.

  The sea will protect you.

  How? Jump? Lucia leaned over the wall and looked down at the surf churning around the dead bodies on the sharp rocks some hundred feet below. As doubt and fear took hold of her, she heard the Great Mother’s words again.

  The sea will protect you.

  She had sworn to trust the Great Mother. I swore to obey.

  “Arhianna!” She climbed up on the wall, pulling on her daughter’s hand. “We have to jump!”

  Arhianna looked horrified. “What? Are you mad? No!”

  “Trust me!” Lucia dragged her up onto the wall.

  The giants had almost reached the center of the wall, they had only moments. She grabbed her daughter by the shoulders and looked her in the eye. “Leap out as far as you can! The sea will catch us, I promise! Do not hesitate! We’ll jump on the count of three, agreed?”

  Arhianna nodded, but she looked terrified.

  “You must trust me!”

  Again, she nodded, and Lucia let go of her hand. They would need to swing their arms to get the momentum required to clear the wall.

  “One…two…three!”

  Lucia leapt off with as much committed strength as she had. It seemed she fell for an eternity before plunging into the water below.

  True to the Great Mother’s word, the sea rose up to swallow her. It swelled around her like a huge blanket, keeping her away from the rocks and pulling her safely out of harm’s way.

  She swam up toward the surface and looked around for her daughter, but Arhianna was nowhere to be seen. Panicked, she frantically dove down, searching for her beneath the waves until she could no longer hold her breath and came up for air.

  It was then that she heard her daughter screaming, but the scream did not come from the water surrounding her. It came from above.

  She had not jumped.

  “Arhianna!” Lucia yelled in vain, panic closing in. There’s nothing I can do now—nothing at all.

  Her daughter was in the hands of the giants.

  ***

  Lucia shed her shoes and swam out past the breakers, listening to the sounds of horror descending from the cliffs above. She watched man after man fall to his death upon the rocks she had been protected from. The courage she possessed but moments ago was now gone, replaced with despair.

  Maybe Gareth is lying in the dirt, bleeding to death. Maybe
Arhianna’s being raped by a hundred giants, and will die, believing I’ve forsaken her. Such torments stabbed at her like a thousand daggers.

  She forced her fears from her mind and focused only on swimming as fast as she could to where the enemy ships were. Stroke after stroke, she surged through the water, as close to the shore as she dared. She spied nine longships on the beach, with only a few of the enemy there to protect them.

  Swallow them! Swallow them! she chanted to the sea, feeling the waters around her swelling with her will. She struggled to stay out of the undertow as waves pulled at the boats. They rose up, bigger and bigger, crashing against the beach in great bursts of angry white foam, until, at last, one of the ships lost its grip upon the sand. The waves who served her grabbed it with their watery fingers and pulled it out to sea. The men on shore tried to pull it back in, but they were too few in number to save it.

  Swallow it! She felt herself become the sea around the boat, tilting it from side to side until it began to fill with seawater, pulling it beneath the waves.

  She knew there would be fewer captives their enemies could take for every ship she sank. Again, she filled the waves with her will, sending them toward the shore with fourteen years’ worth of rage that had built up within her. Again, they grabbed a ship, and again, she pulled it under.

  It did not take long for the giants to react. They abandoned the battle and came running to the beach, dragging captives and spoils with them. They pulled their remaining ships further up on shore, hauling them out of the reach of the waves.

  Moments later, they swarmed the beaches, throwing captives and goods into their ships. To replace the ones they had lost, they took the finished Twin Sister. Fate had cruelly decreed her maiden voyage would be as a slaveship.

  Exhausted, Lucia struggled to stay conscious, helplessly watching the enemy ships row out into the surf. Two of them, including the Twin Sister, headed south, and five headed north.

  They unfurled their sails, and the terrible sigil she had seen so often in her nightmares came to life, glaring down at her like a demon from the sky, ready to tear her eyes out with its talons—a black raven with a stone of amber fire burning in its beak.