by A. E. Rayne
Asked her to protect them all.
‘My lord, my lord, my precious little lord. Do you know who I am? Why I have come?’
She was ugly. Or beautiful.
Hakon couldn’t decide.
The woman’s skin was oddly pale, her one eye blue like a bright sapphire. The space where her other eye had been was a sunken hole, puckered with pink skin. Hair like snow wrapped around her head, twisting to form a long braid that hung to her waist. A necklace of tattooed symbols circled her throat; long earrings of bones dangling from her ears, touching her narrow shoulders. She appeared middle-aged, though there was nothing motherly about her, and as she leaned towards him, Hakon felt afraid.
He nodded, for though he’d never met a goddess in his life, he had seen her image carved onto many a saga stone; embroidered on gold-threaded tapestries hung in fine halls. ‘Yes.’
Alari smiled, though her eye remained cold. ‘I had such high hopes for you, Hakon, yet here you are, a wounded failure, approaching death. It is only fitting, I suppose. I handed you everything, including my most precious dreamer, my beloved Mother. Yet what did you do to protect her? To honour her?’ Alari spat in anger as she straightened up. ‘What did you do to live up to your name at all?’
She was the Goddess of Magic, a dreamweaver of such power and menace that she could kill with a look.
Alari smiled. That was a rumour she had ensured was spread from the North to the South; a rumour Hakon Vettel appeared to have heard, for he shrank away from her, trembling.
‘I am dying?’
‘Do you wish to die, Hakon, my little lord, for I could kill you right now!’ Alari was irritated by his weakness. By his fear.
He stunk of failure.
This was who her hopes rested on? This trembling wreck of a boy?
She snarled, turning around until the back of her shimmering black cloak was the only thing Hakon could see. Her temper was like a violent storm, at times hard to control. Yet, she knew, as her father had always reminded her, anger was more effective when it remained tightly bound. ‘You are a Vettel, Hakon. Have you forgotten? Yet you failed at Ottby. Failed to defeat the Vilanders. Failed to take that fort!’ And turning around, she pointed a pale finger at him, edging closer, eye glowing. ‘And now? Listen to what is happening now!’
Hakon heard screaming. His belly felt hot, burning hot. He held a hand to it, desperate for a drink of water. His heart pounded, and his legs shook.
He felt in danger.
‘I’ve tried to protect you. I’ve always had someone watching over you, for I knew that one day you would take the throne. It was my greatest wish. Your grandfather was a powerful man until the end, a loyal servant until he weakened and bowed to the sanctimonious fool, Ake Bluefinn. Your father... he was always distracted, and eventually, I saw how that would go, but you? Oh, I had such plans for you!’ Alari’s hands were in the air, and she inhaled slowly, blowing out a great white breath, watching as the smoke consumed Hakon, masking him from her. ‘And now? How can I possibly keep you safe now?’
Alys sat in the corner of the tent, trying to concentrate, Eddeth’s voice a deep hum before her. She felt herself panicking, worried that the powder wouldn’t work.
Nothing was coming to her – just darkness.
Eddeth tried to calm her down, sensing that Alys wasn’t even breathing. ‘Deep breaths now. Just let everything fade, let it all soften, like clouds. Everything before you is just clouds, soft and round and floating.’ She frowned, realising that Alys had not slipped away at all. She saw the way her hands were gripping her legs, the tension in her jaw.
Stina stood by the entrance, one hand on the tent flap, not wanting anyone to come in. She saw flashes of lightning, felt the icy wind trying to tear the sheet out of her hand, but she held on, willing Alys to find an answer to what was out there.
Alys heard the odd rattling as though someone was standing behind her, shaking a stick strung with bones. She tipped forward suddenly, tumbling into the darkness, trying to brace herself, seeing the shadows shifting before her.
Men were dying, and though they were Slussfall men and Hovring and Vika men, she wanted to help them, because whatever was out there would shortly be trying to kill her and her friends too.
Landing on her forearms, hands slipping on icy pine needles, towering trees all around her, Alys lifted her head, trying to see. Cool shards of moonlight lit a path, and then they were gone, storm clouds rushing to mask the light.
Alys thought she saw creatures, though she couldn’t make out their features. They had flashed past with such speed, as though they were riding horses. She heard a deep-throated growl behind her, and turning, trembling, Alys tried to push on, to see more.
And then a hand on her shoulder, and she jerked awake.
7
Lief swept into Hakon’s shelter, Njall and Rikkard on either side of him. He peered down at the women, two of whom were crouching in a corner, one who appeared to be chattering with nerves. ‘What’s going on? What are you doing? You were told to get the lord ready!’
Stina couldn’t speak.
Eddeth scrambled to her feet, bones clicking. ‘Alys was unwell. She... fainted!’
Lief had no time for it. ‘We need to get him up. We need to move.’
‘What? Now? No!’ Eddeth rushed ahead of him as Lief strode to Hakon’s bed of furs. ‘You can’t take him out there! Can’t you hear what’s happening?’
‘We need to be prepared to leave. Ake’s army –’
‘You think that’s an army?’ Eddeth snorted, sensing Alys rising behind her. ‘But that’s not men out there!’
Lief peered down at her, impatient to return to his men. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘Because I have ears, of course, and they’re telling me that we’re under attack from other forces! Dark, mysterious forces. The drumming, the rattling, the cold? Oh, but that is not of our making!’ Eddeth narrowed her eyes, creeping towards Lief, who was holding his breath, Njall and Rikkard not even blinking beside him. And then she sneezed. ‘Other forces, I tell you!’ Lief wasn’t convinced, and sensing it, Eddeth grabbed his arm. ‘You move your lord now, and you’ll risk his life. His destiny hangs in the balance! Now! The gods are deciding whether he’ll live or die! Will you be the one to tip the scales?’ Lifting a finger, she stuck it near Lief’s face. ‘Or you?’ And she turned her finger on Rikkard, who looked petrified, blinking rapidly.
‘Perhaps we should wait?’ Njall grunted at Lief. ‘Find Ivan? He’ll be able to tell you what’s happening. He must have seen who’s out there by now.’ He ran a filthy hand down his long coppery beard, braided into one thick rope. His guts griped, and he needed to head for the latrines, though he knew he had to stay, keeping watch. He’d found nothing in the bushes behind the tent, though he was certain something was out there, if the odd sounds were anything to go by.
But what?
Lief nodded reluctantly, not wanting to be responsible for killing his lord. ‘I’ll find Ivan. Njall, keep an eye on the tent. Rikkard, you get out there too. Call out if you see anything.’
The three women held their breaths, waiting, and eventually, with some mumbling and grunting, the men left, dropping the tent flap after them.
Eddeth slumped forward. ‘I thought they’d never leave!’
‘What happened?’ Stina rushed to Alys, who looked half asleep. ‘What did you see?’
‘I, I think Eddeth’s right... I think it’s the vatyr.’ Alys sought out Eddeth, who spun around, smug face glowing above the flames of their tiny fire. ‘They’re like shadows, moving quickly. It was so dark, but I swore I saw a glimpse of eyes. And teeth.’
‘Oh, well, well, well! What shall we do about that then, Alys the dreamer?’ Eddeth clamped both hands over her mouth, all three of them glancing at the bed.
‘Eddeth!’ Stina hissed.
Eddeth kept her hands where they were, eyes jumping above her fingers.
Alys didn’t say anything. There was no t
ime. She could hear screams, the drumming, every sound exploding inside her head as the threat drew closer. ‘What can we do?’ Her eyes were on Eddeth, her mind a black hole.
Eddeth was blinking rapidly. ‘You’re the one who can see, Alys. Shut us all out now. Go into the forest and find the answers!’
Alys turned towards the tent flap. ‘But I...’
‘Not the actual forest! Sit down! Here.’ And Eddeth drew her back towards the corner. ‘Close your eyes now. You need to breathe this time, really breathe. Listen to that drumming out there. Feel it inside you, like your beating heart.’ She squatted down beside Alys, gripping her arm. ‘The beat will take you where you need to go. There’s always an answer, Alys, so go and find it!’
Ivan wheeled around in circles, screaming at his men to hold their shield wall, though the grunting, screaming noises moved constantly, and he felt disoriented, not sure where to defend from. They hadn’t seen anyone. Running north, through the trees, they hadn’t seen any sign of their enemy at all, just bodies of the men Ivan had left guarding the perimeter, hacked to pieces.
‘Ivan!’
The drumming had become louder, throbbing inside his head, and Ivan hadn’t heard Lief approach. He turned, eyes bursting open in surprise. ‘Is it Hakon?’
Lief blinked, certain he’d just seen something fly through the air. Moonbeams, momentarily bright and helpful, were quickly gone again, and they were plunged into darkness. The men with torches had struggled to keep them alight as the wind roared through the camp, abandoning them for axes.
He heard a crash, trees moving before him like waves, everything blurring as though he was dreaming. He remembered what Eddeth had said, but dismissing her words, Lief tried to clear his vision, wanting to see what was truly before him, not just a trick of the mind. He thought of Mother, knowing that magic was real, but if magical creatures had ambushed them, trying to kill them, what could they do to stop them? ‘Hakon’s safe. The healer doesn’t want to move him unless we need to. It’s too risky!’ He kept turning, trying to find an answer, a logical explanation, though the odd growling noises and shrill cries of pain simply amplified everything Eddeth had said.
Ivan felt trapped. He didn’t know how to defend themselves against an enemy they couldn’t see. ‘It’s too risky!’ he agreed. ‘We can’t see anyone. Can’t see a way out either. I’ve got men dead up there!’ And he pointed north. ‘We can’t run!’
Lief nodded. ‘We need more shield walls!’
Ivan agreed. ‘We’ll draw in close, surround the camp on every side! Get me every archer we have, every arrow! I want fires blazing. We need to see!’
Their siege engines were lost, left behind in Ottby, their arrow supply almost non-existent, but they had men and those men had shields, and if they brought them all together, they might be able to keep safe till dawn.
Erlan came running up to them, blood pouring down his face from a deep cut in his scalp. He’d lost his sword in the dark, unable to find another weapon. Rubbing blood out of his eyes, he tried to see. ‘Alef’s dead! He’s dead! They’re everywhere! My men... we need help!’
Alys shook with fear as the man slipped through the trees.
He was just a shadow, hints of moonlight glowing around him, though she couldn’t see his face. He was tall, hooded, his cloak flapping behind him like wings.
He was everywhere. All around her.
Always moving.
Not a man, she realised, swallowing.
‘You are in the wrong place, Alys de Sant, and yet you are exactly where you need to be.’
Alys shivered; the voice, hard as granite, was so unnerving.
And sensing how scared she was, he sought to reassure her. ‘I do not seek to harm you, know that. I did not come for you, Alys, though nor do I wish you to try and stop me.’
‘Stop you?’
The shadow man stopped moving, lingering by a tree. ‘It’s why you’ve come, isn’t it? To find a way to help? To stop the killing?’
Alys could hear the killing. She nodded.
‘And you’re that powerful, are you?’ He smirked now, edging closer. ‘Powerful enough to stop a god?’
‘I... no.’ Alys was certain that was true. ‘But why are you killing them?’
‘They are oathbreakers. Oathbreakers and failures. Weak men vying for power. And now they will die. It’s a beginning. Something I should have done years ago. And yet, everything must happen in its own time, for life is a puzzle, even for my kind. A puzzle where every piece must wait for the perfect moment to take its place.’
Alys didn’t understand. She heard a raven cawing somewhere in the distance, and she wanted to know more, but everything started to blur around her, and she held out a hand, trying to keep her balance. Peering at the shadow god, she blinked, ears ringing. ‘But who are you?’
And then she heard a terrifying roar.
Thunder rumbled in the distance.
Or was it the drums?
Ivan didn’t know, but he felt rain misting his face, hoping it was just a storm. ‘Fall back! Fall back to me!’ He stood on the left side of a long shield wall, struggling to see, though he could hear the terrified screams of the Hovring and Vika men as they were attacked, ripped to pieces.
He saw glimpses of bodies thrown against trees, heard bones snapping, necks breaking, but he couldn’t see what was out there.
The stink of death permeated the air as Ivan’s archers shot into the darkness, each one of them wishing they had flaming arrows, but the fires were still being set. In the dark, it was proving impossible for anyone to see much.
Dull thuds, bodies dropping.
Men crying for help.
‘Stop!’ Lief held up a hand, trying to get Ivan’s attention. ‘We’re just killing our own men!’ And those men were trying to escape, running for the shield wall, desperate to get behind it. Eyes peeled open, they tried to see with only occasional flashes of moonlight to aid them. Some fell into firepits, others tripped over tree roots as they ran, shunted by their fellow warriors, who were injured, fearful, panicking.
‘Aim!’ Ivan ignored Lief. They couldn’t let whatever was out there into the camp. They had to hold them here, no matter how many of their men had to die. ‘Loose!’
Arrows whipped over the heads of his retreating men, arcing through the frosty darkness, digging into the earth behind them.
Ivan straightened up, mouth falling open. Fear wrenched his guts, robbing him of his voice as streaks of lightning shot through the sky, exploding the campfires into life, revealing the dark bodies of the towering vatyr, long white fangs snapping together, claws gleaming.
Charging straight for them.
Alys’ eyes sprang open as she jerked back from Eddeth, who was peering at her, mouth ajar.
‘Eddeth, let her catch her breath,’ Stina insisted, hand on Eddeth’s arm, pulling her back.
Eddeth closed her mouth, waiting, shuffling on the spot.
‘What’s happening?’ Alys panted, scrambling to her feet.
Stina frowned, listening. ‘Sounds like a storm now.’ She crept towards the tent flap, pulling it open, popping her head outside.
‘Stay inside till it’s safe to come out!’ Njall growled, legs like tree trunks, standing astride the entrance.
‘I’m not sure,’ Stina frowned, turning back inside, ‘but I can hear screaming.’ She shook as a clap of thunder boomed overhead.
‘I didn’t see anything,’ Alys said. ‘Just a man, though I doubt he was a man. It was too dark. He was just a shadow, moving around.’
‘Was he a god?’ Eddeth edged towards her, grabbing her arm. ‘Did you see a god?’ She was gleeful, eyes popping open.
‘I didn’t see him. Not really,’ Alys insisted, stepping back, away from Eddeth, trying to think, ‘but he spoke to me. He warned me not to get involved, said that it was his... punishment. He was punishing oathbreakers, he said.’
‘It was most definitely a god!’ Eddeth announced loudly. ‘Oooh, I wonder
who? Perhaps Eskvir, though, he doesn’t seem to have a problem with oathbreakers. A man, you say?’ She barely paused for breath, tapping her head now. ‘Maybe Godi?’ And then she stopped, turning to Alys. ‘Thenor! It was Thenor! He’s the God of the Forest, you know. The god of many things, of course, but he is wont to walk through a forest on a dark night, punishing his enemies!’
Alys froze, looking past Hakon’s motionless figure to the back of the tent, hand slipping inside her cloak, touching the hilt of Tulia’s sword.
Almasa.
She drew the sword from its scabbard, body tingling with certainty. ‘Get behind me,’ she ordered creeping towards the bed of furs where Hakon lay. ‘Njall! Rikkard!’
Neither Stina nor Eddeth spoke as they hurried behind the dreamer.
And then the back of the tent was ripped open, a dark creature standing amongst the trees, white fangs dripping, eyes glowing.
And growling, it swung its long arms forward, lunging inside.
Ivan had been picked up and thrown away as though he was a stone. He’d hit the back of his head on something hard when he’d landed, and now his ears were ringing. He lay on his back, eyes on the storm-tossed trees, trying to move. He heard thunder crashing above him, something rattling in the distance, the screams of his men echoing around him. And then a grunting vatyr lurched into view, looming over him, mouth open, fangs exposed, black body masked by the night. Ivan tried to pick up his sword, but the creature slammed a leg down on his arm, lashing his claws at Ivan’s face.
Rolling quickly to his right, arm still pinned, Ivan heard the vatyr hissing in annoyance as its claws scraped dirt. He tried to sit up, to move, but the strength in that leg was stonelike, and Ivan panicked, visions of Hakon flashing before his eyes; of Alys too. He drew out his knife, stabbing it at the vatyr’s leg, through the vatyr’s leg, not feeling anything at all.