Mark of the Hunter: An Epic Fantasy Adventure (The Lords of Alekka Book 2)

by A. E. Rayne

  Elin turned to her. ‘I’ve lost a dress. I was just asking Reinar about it. My green one.’

  Agnette quickly looked as uncomfortable as her cousin. ‘Well, we had those women from Ullaberg here, and they were so cold, poor things. We gave them what we could, including some of your clothes, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Reinar nodded, grateful for Agnette’s quick thinking. ‘We didn’t know if you were coming back.’

  ‘I have to feed her,’ Agnette said, looking at Reinar with some sympathy, jiggling Liara, who was howling now. ‘Sorry! I’ll talk to you later, Elin.’

  ‘Slussfall!’ Bjarni announced as he stomped his boots by the hall doors, shaking snow off his cloak. ‘Let’s talk about Slussfall!’

  Reinar was pleased for the interruption.

  Bolli, Ludo, and Sigurd hurried in after Bjarni, all of them making for the map table. Berger Eivin, yawning and scratching his long beard, pulled himself up from a bench and made to join them, not wanting to be left out when it came to deciding how to attack Slussfall by sea. With his brother, Rutger, dead on their raid to Ullaberg, he’d assumed command of their small band of men, still debating whether he wanted to serve the Lord of Ottby at all.

  Elin watched the men gather around the map table, surprised by how easily Reinar had drawn his attention away from her. She was barely home, their reunion new, and yet he seemed eager to get away from her at every opportunity.

  She stared at him with a frown before turning away.

  The fires spat, the doors shook, and Liara cried in the distance.

  Reinar didn’t notice any of it. ‘Thought you might want to stay behind,’ he said quietly to Bjarni, not wanting Agnette to hear. ‘What with the baby.’

  Bjarni chewed his lip, working hard to get his thoughts in order. Eventually, he shook his head. ‘Can’t say I didn’t think about it, but I’m not the only husband and father in Ottby. We can’t all stay home to keep our families safe, can we? Odd Forsten should stay. He always used to. Before Tulia.’ He felt uncomfortable even saying her name, not wanting to upset Sigurd.

  Who looked upset, but nodded anyway. ‘Odd’s the best choice, and you’d be more use to us at Slussfall than getting under Agnette’s feet, driving her mad.’ He dropped his head quickly, feelings bubbling intensely. He was looking forward to getting away from the fort; away from the concerned looks and the awkward sympathy too. He longed to ride the waves with nothing but the sound of a roaring wind in his ears.

  He wanted to go to Slussfall.

  Vik peered up at Slussfall’s old walls, memories stirring. He’d defended those walls more than once. He’d climbed them too. The fortress had changed hands many times over the years. Its location near The Rift had always made it a popular target for Northerners seeking a foothold in the South. Sirrus Ahlmann, made Lord of Slussfall by Ake, had been besieged countless times, finally overthrown by the Vettels.

  And now?

  Now enemies resided behind those walls. Enemies who’d be more than happy to see their return, eager for a hefty helping of revenge.

  Jonas nudged Vik forward to where two guards waited to inspect their cart. They’d paid three fur traders a couple of coins to let them accompany them into the fort. The burly men were keen to help, friendly, and pleased for the company. Snow swirled around them all, and Jonas felt grateful for it, hiding beneath his hood, one hand on the cart, cloak flapping behind him.

  ‘Not really the weather for it!’ one of the guards called over the howling wind, fingering through the furs. ‘Though I’m sure you’ll be popular in there!’

  Jonas nodded, letting the traders do all the talking. He sensed that the guards were more inclined to head back into their tower than stand out in the bone-chilling cold. They looked over the cart with little interest, making a note, taking payment, quickly stepping back to usher them inside.

  Vik kept his hood low, shoulders hunched. It was easy to look as though you were trying to hide from the weather, though it would get harder inside the fort if conditions improved. But, looking up as the dark-grey clouds descended upon them, Vik doubted that would be any time soon.

  Now that they’d decided to take ships, and had worked through who would stay and who would go, they needed a plan, a way into Slussfall without losing too many men.

  The arguments rang throughout the hall, voices rising and falling as Reinar battled them all, deciding how they would approach the fort.

  At least initially.

  He didn’t feel convinced by anything he’d proposed, nor especially confident. He felt preoccupied, and irritable because of it.

  Gerda had pushed her way into the conversation. Having put Liara down for a sleep, Agnette had joined them. Elin too. They were curious about what would happen; anxious about being left behind with a damaged fort and few men to protect it.

  Agnette peered at Sigurd, who looked so lost. She doubted many would notice, but she did. His tired eyes barely stayed in one place for long, not wishing to attract anyone’s attention. ‘But what if the Vettels return to attack us?’

  It was what Gerda was thinking too, and she blinked at Reinar, feeling anxious.

  ‘They won’t,’ Bjarni assured her. ‘They’ll be limping back to Slussfall, worrying that Ake’s on their tail. It will take time to plan what to do next. Their first thought won’t be to attack us, it will be to protect themselves.’

  Sigurd lifted an eyebrow. ‘You sure about that? They seemed to have no idea what they were doing out on the field, except to go round in smoky circles!’

  ‘Nothing’s certain,’ Reinar said, smiling at Elin, who watched him from the other side of the map table. ‘But Ake will be in Stornas soon, and Algeir’s tidying up Hovring and Vika. There are men to call on. Only a few days marching will get them here. Odd can send a note. He’ll have scouts out. I know Torfinn wants to come with us, but Beggi will remain. He’ll get more men to help him.’

  Berger nodded, combing his bushy auburn beard. He was less uptight than his brother had been; laid back in a way Reinar found irritating.

  Overly concerned with his appearance.

  ‘No chance they’ll come back,’ Berger decided with a sleepy grin. ‘Not till spring. But by spring we’ll have killed them all!’ He winked at Gerda, who didn’t feel reassured in the slightest.

  She touched Agnette’s shoulder, thinking about Stellan. ‘How long will Liara be asleep, do you think? Stellan needs to be changed.’

  ‘I can help you, Gerda,’ Elin offered. ‘I’m sure Agnette has many things to do before the baby wakes. I can help you with Stellan.’

  Gerda looked pleased, and so did Agnette, who smiled at Elin. It had been strange without her. And then strange with her back. But, she realised, glancing at Reinar, it would just take some time. Time for them all to remember how it used to be.

  Time to forget about Alys.

  Alys hadn’t spoken since they’d left their camp, and Stina was growing concerned. They were packed in tightly on their horses as they trekked down a narrow path between rows of snow-heavy trees, and trying to ask her what was wrong was impossible. Likely it was something they couldn’t discuss in front of Falla, who had joined them, leaving her husband to ride with Hakon and Ivan.

  Eddeth was mostly silent beside them. She wriggled in the saddle, unable to keep still, but her mouth remained closed, aware of how important it was to keep their identities hidden.

  So Stina was left to talk to Falla. ‘Are you from Slussfall, then?’

  ‘No. I come from the Slave Islands.’

  ‘Oh?’ Stina was intrigued. ‘I’ve never been anywhere but Alekka. How did you end up in Slussfall?’

  Falla watched snow flurries twirling before her, settling on her horse’s chestnut head. ‘My second husband was from Alekka. When he died, I came to find his mother. I was... carrying my son. I wanted him born here.’ She kept her eyes ahead, not offering anything further, lost in the memory of her arrival, and Mother’s welcome. The old dream
er had been waiting for her, promising a revenge that now seemed impossible to attain.

  Unless Lief had more power.

  Falla narrowed her eyes, watching her husband riding ahead of her.

  If Lief commanded an army and a fleet mighty enough to take to the seas and defeat the Slave Islands, then anything was possible.

  Stina realised that Falla wasn’t listening anymore, and she turned to Eddeth, who appeared to be falling asleep. ‘Eddeth!’ And leaning out, Stina prodded her arm.

  ‘What!’ Eddeth jerked up, frightening Wilf, who threw up his head, skittering in a bluster. He was old and deaf and prone to nervous outbursts, and Eddeth couldn’t control him as he lurched forward, barging past Lief and Ivan, his yelping rider clinging on for dear life.

  Falla covered her mouth, trying not to laugh, listening to Eddeth’s yelps of terror.

  Alys called out. ‘Ivan! Help her!’

  Ivan, eager to please, spurred his horse on, hurrying after Eddeth, who bounced wildly ahead of him, threatening to tip out of the saddle. Eventually, Ivan caught up with her as the urgency for Wilf’s escape diminished. And tired now, he allowed himself to be turned around and led back to their column, Eddeth slumped over him, nose dripping, unable to catch her breath. ‘That... I... well...’ She didn’t know what to say, too relieved to make any sense. ‘Thank you.’ And nodding at Ivan, Eddeth made her way back to Alys and Stina, ignoring Falla, who was wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. She turned Wilf around, nudging him in between the horses, still panting. ‘And I thought Rigfuss was difficult!’ Falla looked confused, and Eddeth turned to her. ‘Rigfuss is my cat, back in –’

  ‘Ullaberg!’ Stina exclaimed. ‘Eddeth has a cat in Ullaberg, don’t you?’

  Eddeth nodded, lips pressed together.

  ‘Well, I hope someone is caring for him,’ Falla purred, leaning in, ‘for I don’t imagine you’ll be seeing him for some time. Not now Hakon has you.’

  Alys peered at Falla, sensing problems. The woman was ambitious and manipulative, and solely interested in what served her best. Falla turned, staring at her, and Alys saw a glimpse of the old dreamer. They had been close, she realised. She saw Falla’s hand on a drum, the dreamer creeping around a fire, smoke wafting, consuming them both.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Falla wondered sharply, for Alys appeared to be staring right through her.

  Alys nodded, blinking herself out of the vision. ‘Yes, just tired. It can be a little monotonous, can’t it?’ And moving her eyes away from Falla, she stared straight ahead as Ivan twisted around, winking at her.

  Falla laughed. ‘I’m grateful to you for taking Ivan’s attention away from me. I think Lief was ready to kill him.’

  Alys wasn’t surprised. Ivan was like a big child, unable to control his impulses, though she no longer felt threatened by him, not as she did by his cousin. Hakon was pale and weak, barely able to ride, but wide awake, and Alys’ fears were growing, worrying that soon, he would discover the truth.

  Reinar and Elin left the hall behind, braving the blizzard. Elin wanted to take Milka a few carrots, and Reinar needed to see how the wall repairs were going. Now that they’d chosen a departure date, he felt an even greater urgency to have the fort back in order, and he needed to get those walls right quickly.

  ‘I want to come.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘To Slussfall. I don’t want to stay here, Reinar. Take me with you. I can help care for the men, and you. I have healing skills. Not as good as Eddeth’s, but better than most. I want to come.’

  Reinar had one hand on Milka, who was happily munching her carrots. He froze. ‘I...’

  ‘I’ve only just returned. To you. Don’t leave me here, please.’ Elin was insistent, eyes blinking, full of urgency.

  Reinar frowned, wanting to talk her out of it. ‘You don’t like ships, remember?’

  ‘No, but I like you, and I want to be with you. I want to come.’ Elin rose up onto her tiptoes, kissing him. ‘I want to make everything right before it’s too late.’

  ‘Too late?’ Reinar peered into her frantic eyes. They skipped about like Eddeth under a full moon. ‘What do you mean?’

  Elin slipped her arms around his waist, holding him close. ‘Look at what happened to Torvig,’ she mumbled into his chest, tears stinging her aching eyes. ‘I don’t want to be apart from you, Reinar. I made a mistake running away. I don’t want to be apart again!’

  Reinar held onto her, feeling her desperation, though his reluctance to take her with him was strong. ‘It’s best if you stay here with Agnette. With Gerda. You’re the Lady of Ottby. You should be here, looking after things. The attack on Slussfall... we’ll be on ships. I won’t be able to protect you. There won’t be anywhere to take shelter.’ He ran through every reason he could think of, watching tears flood her eyes, remembering how it was for them once.

  He’d always hated leaving her behind.

  And sighing, Reinar nodded. ‘Alright, if you want to come, then come. Come with us to Slussfall.’

  14

  Slussfall’s square was not quite as they’d remembered.

  Jonas eyed Vik, both of them holding their hoods low, fighting the swirling wind’s best efforts to reveal their faces. Their cloaks billowed like full sails, and Jonas felt himself becoming irritated with the snow and the wind and himself most of all for sending Magnus into the fort on his own.

  He could tell Vik felt the same. His frown was deep, eyes scouring the busy fortress, lips set in a straight line. They needed to find that silversmith, and then Magnus. And they needed to do it all without being discovered.

  They had spent decades fighting Vettels.

  First King Jorek’s men, then his two sons, Jesper and Gunnar. And though neither of them had fought against Hakon’s army, Slussfall was likely commanded by old hands loyal to both his father and grandfather. And those men were certain to be lurking around somewhere. Though, at first glance, the fort seemed light on warriors.

  ‘Is Hakon Vettel here?’ Vik asked one of the fur traders.

  The big man shook his head, pushing down his fur hat as it threatened to blow away. ‘He’s in Ottby, from what I hear. At least, he’s hoping to be! On his way to claim Stornas!’ They were Northerners. Men who roamed the wild frozen land above The Rift. Men who were enjoying access to Slussfall’s market and the prospect of more Southern customers to come.

  Vik glanced at Jonas, eyes wide, body twitching. Once that was a fight they would have been in. Helping Stellan. Helping Ake. They’d both heard what had happened to Stellan Vilander, and Vik frowned again, hoping his sons would be up to the task of beating back the Vettel cousins before they took any more of Alekka for themselves.

  Relieved to hear that Slussfall’s lord was far away from his fort.

  Hakon hadn’t spoken since they’d left their camp, and Lief was growing uncomfortable with the silence. He’d even made conversation with Ivan, who rode on Hakon’s left, both of them becoming concerned.

  Ivan had made Njall ride just behind them in case Hakon fell off his horse, or needed to be lifted down. His cousin’s skin was ashen, the colour of snow clouds, and his silence was worrying.

  Hakon didn’t care about their discomfort, though he could sense it. He was just trying to stay upright. The pain in his belly made him want to hunch over and grip it till he felt better. He thought of Eddeth and her maggots, wondering if he should have listened to her. And blinking, he could hear his father roaring his disappointment; disappointment tinged with hate and regret. He heard his uncle too – a man even crueller than his father had been - screaming that Ivan should have been the one chosen to rule. Not Hakon. What was the point of Hakon?

  Hakon swallowed, turning to his cousin, who smiled at him.

  ‘We should stop. Rest the horses,’ Ivan suggested.

  ‘What? No!’ Hakon was annoyed, his voice breathless, the pain blinding. ‘We’ve only just begun. The weather is holding, the path ahead looks clear enough. We can make rea
l progress today, don’t you...’ He sucked in a long breath, and squeezed his gloved hands around the reins, closing his eyes, waiting for the pain to pass. Eventually, he opened them, turning to Lief. ‘Don’t you agree?’

  Lief nodded. ‘We can, lord, and we’re nowhere suitable for stopping anyway. Best we carry on, if you think you’re able?’ He glanced over his shoulder at Njall, who rode alongside Jerrick, both men staring at Lief, wondering if their help was required.

  ‘Of course!’ Hakon insisted loudly. ‘More than able!’ He forced a smile, ignoring the voices in his head and his growing fear that the gods had abandoned him, nudging his horse forward. ‘We’ll never reach Slussfall at this rate if we spend all our time sitting around drinking and moaning!’

  Leonid was miserable, groaning in discomfort. Before he’d accidentally killed the rival silversmith, the man had punched him in the face and broken his nose, and all his crying had blocked it, and now he was struggling to breathe, which made him panic and want to cry some more.

  They stood before the prison hole window, Magnus on top of an overturned bucket, gripping its rusty bars, peering out onto the square, hoping to see a sign of Jonas and Vik. He’d told Leonid that his great-grandfather and his friend would come looking for them, certain that they’d have to once he failed to return. Leonid felt guilty about that too, worried what the two old warriors would do to him for getting the boy locked up. It was hardly what they’d paid him for, and it wouldn’t get him any more of the silver he so desperately needed.

  They saw a lot of legs, some wrapped in thick wool, boots packed in snow. The weather was disintegrating, though Leonid could see that the traders and farmers were setting up their stalls, hunched over against the wild wind, frozen solid, but still in need of coins.