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

by A. E. Rayne

  Ilene peered up at him, anger flickering in her eyes.

  ‘I’m worried about your reputation. I don’t want anyone causing trouble amongst my men. We’re about to head to Slussfall, to take the fortress, kill the Vettels. We’re taking ships, all of us crammed in together. There’s no time for jealousies and rivalries on ships. Nor in battle. We must be one, working together, not whispering and gossiping, tearing each other apart.’

  Ilene looked insulted. ‘I don’t know what you’re saying.’ She glanced around, lowering her voice. ‘Or what Alys told you about me. She was always jealous. Her husband had no real love for her.’

  Reinar leaned in close, grabbing her arm, eyes sharp. ‘What Alys told me was the truth, I’ve no doubt about that. And I saw what Alys’ husband did to her. You should think more of yourself than wanting to pursue a man like that. A man who would beat a woman? The woman he loved? Alys was trapped, trying to get out, but you?’

  Ilene was unused to being spoken to so harshly. Men usually just wanted to bed her, not care to talk to her or help her. She tried to pull away from him, but Reinar wouldn’t let her go.

  ‘You can fight, Ilene, so I will let you come and fight for me. But not if you continue to play games, not if you try to turn my men against each other. And especially not if you try to tangle Sigurd up in something he doesn’t want or need.’

  There it was.

  Ilene froze, everything making perfect sense now.

  ‘Your brother –’

  ‘My brother is grieving for the woman he loved. Leave him alone. Let him mourn. He needs time. If he wants you, he’ll come to you, I’m sure. But you will leave him alone to make up his own mind now. Understood?’

  Ilene glared at Reinar, deciding, and lips twisting into a furious pout, she nodded, forcing out the word. ‘Understood.’

  19

  Ollo Narp liked to eat, and being the master of the market, he had no need to dip into his pouch to pay for anything he chose to sample. His pouch bulged with coins he collected but had no need to spend. He smiled, hearing the coins clinking together, and sweeping his cloak around his ample belly, he bobbed his head at Bergit Dyre, who stood in line, basket over one arm, eyes on the glowing lumps of amber arrayed before her. ‘Making the most of the weather?’ he grinned, nibbling a chestnut.

  Bergit eyed him coldly. He was a leering sort of man, slithering around the fort and into Hakon Vettel’s confidence. She wondered how a lord could trust a man who’d once been an enemy, though Ulrick had told her that the wisest lords always kept their enemies close. Even slimy ones like Ollo Narp. ‘I am, yes. I imagine the snow will soon be too high to even open my door. I aim to have such an abundance of stores that I won’t need to come out till spring!’ Polite conversation strained Bergit’s patience, though it did no harm to keep the little worm on her side, for a little worm would always come in handy.

  And though his eyes were constantly moving, Ollo suddenly fixed them on Bergit, hearing her warm tone, noting how full her lips were, his eyes dropping to her bosom, hidden beneath a thick cloak and a fur wrap. He grinned, gulping down the warm chestnut. ‘Well, Ulrick will be a lucky man... if he returns. Otherwise, you’ll need to look for other companions. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of contenders.’

  Bergit shuddered, trying to ignore Ollo’s roaming eyes. ‘Not if I don’t increase my stores. A man might wish for a woman’s company in his bed, but he also needs feeding, that I do know. And I’d like some wine too, though I’m not sure what’s happened to all the wine merchants. Those who are here are charging such exorbitant prices!’

  Ollo lifted an eyebrow. ‘I may be able to find you a cask of wine, Bergit, my dear. For a price, of course. Hakon has his wine from Varis. In great demand, it is, though I can certainly get my hands on a cask for you.’

  Bergit turned her entire body towards Ollo now, knowing how much Ulrick liked Hakon’s wine. ‘You could?’ And already reaching into her cloak for her purse, she smiled.

  Vik watched them, tucked around the corner of the shoemaker’s cottage. It wasn’t the most pleasant place to stand, as a swirling breeze wafted the great stink of the tannery towards him, though Vik was desperate not to be seen. Not by Ollo. And not by that sharp-tongued witch. His eyes skipped to the opposite side of the square, where he saw Jonas trying to look just as inconspicuous.

  The fort was not full, which was a relief, but there were still too many eyes, too much bright sunshine for either man to feel comfortable.

  Vik looked up, praying for snow.

  Wanting the day to hurry away.

  Ulrick was vibrating with excitement, Lotta could feel it. She could hear his thoughts jumping around his head like a little boy at Solsta. He was impatient to see his wife, and as the tops of Slussfall’s guard towers appeared in the distance, Lotta knew that soon, he would.

  She rode Clover beside his giant horse, Skuld, trying to think.

  Ulrick cared for her, and she needed to stay with him until her mother came. For the first time in days, Lotta had felt her getting closer. It was a strange feeling, like a warmth she couldn’t explain. The cold clung to her, numbing her face, aching her legs, but inside her heart, she felt warm, as though soon she would be happy again.

  And smiling as the sun headed down, Lotta spurred Clover on.

  Alys felt sick, watching Hakon and Eddeth riding at the very tip of their column.

  Alone.

  Ivan and Lief rode behind them with Jerrick and another man Alys didn’t know. She rode further back with a sullen Falla, and Stina, who looked just as petrified as Alys felt.

  Eddeth alone with Hakon was too terrifying for words.

  Eddeth felt just as anxious as her friends as she tried to navigate the perilous path between helping the lord with what he needed to know, and trying not to reveal anything that would catch Alys in a trap. For if Hakon found out that Alys was a dreamer, he would never let her go. Eddeth feared that, and for the first time in days, she thought of her own lord, Reinar Vilander, hearing his booming ‘Eddeth!’ in her ears, making her jolt upright.

  ‘You were saying?’ Hakon was growing impatient. Eddeth would start speaking then abruptly stop, leaving a gaping silence, before resuming the conversation on an entirely different path. He was losing track of where they were going. Eyes on the mountains in the distance, peeking through the clouds, he felt a lift, desperate to get back to Slussfall, though the thought of climbing over more mountains made his belly ache.

  ‘The gods’ favour once granted, can be quickly taken away.’

  Hakon glanced over his shoulder, pleased that there was still some distance between him and those men following with curious eyes and twitching ears, no doubt wondering what they were talking about. ‘Though, perhaps they’re inclined to return that favour when it’s warranted?’ he suggested, hoping to strip his voice of the desperation he felt twisting his guts. He peered at Eddeth, sensing her hesitation. ‘You and your friends wish to leave and resume your journey, I know, so be honest with me, Eddeth. Tell me all you know about the gods, then you can leave. I give you my word. Tell me the truth, and you’ll be free to go.’ He thought quickly, wanting to tempt the healer into revealing everything she was hiding from him. ‘Tomorrow. You can be on your way tomorrow!’

  Eddeth’s eyes bulged. ‘Well, I... that would... yes, alright, of course, yes!’ Her thoughts raced ahead, skipping left and right, words fighting to come out her mouth all at once. ‘The gods are always at war, always arguing over some slight, so they seek out warriors of great value to have on their side. Thenor and Eskvir, the two brothers, have not seen eye to eye in centuries. Some say that one day there will be a great war. A war to end all wars...’

  Hakon looked intrigued, leaning towards her.

  Eddeth blinked, feeling muddled, losing focus. ‘The gods are proud! Some might say vain. Their reputations mean everything to them. They do not wish to champion those who fail, for that would be a stain on their reputation. A great, hideous blight
!’ She eyed Hakon closely, quickly regretting the use of that particular word, though it was too late to grab it and stuff it back inside her mouth.

  ‘Fail?’ Hakon almost whispered. He hadn’t revealed his fears to Eddeth. What she thought was influenced only by her own knowledge, and what she’d seen. As much as he wanted to grab her by the throat and squeeze, he also knew that he needed to listen. If he was to change the arc of his destiny, he had to listen carefully. Hands squeezing around his horse’s reins instead, Hakon waited to hear more.

  ‘Well, fail to impress, perhaps?’ Eddeth suggested, trying to remake her words into something more palatable. ‘If the gods see themselves as rivals and us mortals as their playthings, then they will only grant their favour to those they believe will succeed. For the success of their favourites will burnish their own reputations.’

  Hakon’s eyes were bright with hope for the first time since leaving Ottby. The pain of his wound was demanding, but he turned his head, peering at Eddeth. ‘So how do I convince them that I will succeed? How do I right my ship, for it must be righted quickly, mustn’t it?’

  Eddeth froze. She didn’t want to help Hakon Vettel succeed at anything. He was a man her lord wanted dead. But perhaps, she thought, pragmatically, perhaps it was better to let Reinar worry about Hakon? She just needed to get Alys to safety before she was discovered. Reinar would certainly advise her to do that. ‘You must show them victory! Victory over your fiercest enemy and theirs! If the gods that favour you want to see the throne torn from Ake Bluefinn’s hands, then you must show them that you’re the man capable of doing it!’ She waited, watching as Hakon turned away from her, eyes fixed ahead, wide with possibilities now.

  And inhaling an enormous breath of relief, Eddeth sneezed.

  Sigurd didn’t know how he felt about Ilene coming with them to Slussfall.

  But mostly not good.

  ‘She can sail with me, I’ll keep an eye on her,’ Reinar promised, trying not to grin.

  Sigurd sighed, turning away from his brother, eyes on the forest. It was hard to stand on the wall. The low wall had been Reinar’s and Torvig’s, and that made him feel sick. He looked back to the inner wall that had been his and Tulia’s, and that made him feel sad. ‘She’ll cause problems whichever ship she’s on.’

  ‘I hope not. It would be a shame for her if she did. But maybe she’ll stop being so interested in causing problems if she has a purpose?’ Reinar knew that Sigurd was right to be concerned, and not just for his own discomfort. Ilene was attractive and seductive, and she played games. Alys had implied as much.

  Would Alys have suggested he take her along?

  Reinar smiled, imagining the answer.

  ‘What?’ Sigurd was watching him.

  ‘Just thinking about...’ Reinar stopped himself. ‘About what else we have to do. We’re leaving in six days. There’s so much to do. More things I probably haven’t even thought of yet.’

  Sigurd frowned, hearing the lie, but letting it go. ‘Likely there is, though it’ll be nice to leave. Nice to get away from here for a while. I think we both need that.’ He turned away from the inner wall, eyes on the guard tower, the crash of boulders still ringing in his ears. ‘Maybe we should leave earlier?’

  Reinar laughed. ‘You can’t run away that quickly, Brother. And besides, we need to leave ready. Getting into Slussfall won’t be easy. Ships and men won’t be enough. We need more arrows. More shields. If only we had a dreamer to tell us what’s coming.’

  Now it was Sigurd’s turn to laugh, thinking of Alys, hoping she’d found her children. ‘Well, dreamer or not, we have to follow the king’s orders. Take Slussfall, end the Vettels. I’m sure the gods will be smiling on you then.’

  Reinar nodded, hoping his brother was right.

  Ollo Narp yawned his way towards the tavern, frozen solid. He wanted a fire with flames not blowing in every direction, eager to thaw out his feet before he needed to go back to the square again.

  ‘Ollo!’

  He turned, hearing the shout, almost recognising the voice. He hesitated, not wanting to be delayed from his bench and his flames, though he was curious about that voice. And dropping his hood over his head, he turned away from the tavern door, eyes on the alley.

  Jonas waited in the middle of it, hands by his sides, hood over his face.

  Ollo frowned, skin tingling in anticipation. Stepping closer, his eyes bulged as the man lifted up his hood. ‘Jonas?’ He looked over his shoulder, scratching his head, thoughts skipping to his sword which hadn’t been drawn from its scabbard in months. He’d grown fat and lazy. Not nearly as sharp as he’d once been. ‘What are you doing here?’ Lowering his voice, Ollo crept closer, curiosity giving way to reason. ‘You shouldn’t be here, Jonas.’ He stepped forward with caution, one frozen boot at a time. The snow had been cleared from the alley in a long path, though it was already icy underfoot, and he moved slowly.

  Jonas waited for him to come, wanting Ollo away from that tavern; away from anyone at all. ‘I have a proposal for you, old friend.’ They had never once been friends, though Sirrus had always found use for the treacherous turd. ‘A lot of silver too, if you’re interested?’

  Ollo lifted a wild eyebrow, glancing around again. Stopping, he waited, not wanting to go any further, not wanting it to be some sort of trap. Though, he realised, Jonas Bergstrom was the chicken in a fort of foxes. He had nothing to fear, not from this old man. ‘Well, you know me, Jonas, silver always appeals, though I’ve more than I know what to do with these days. Hakon Vettel pays better than Sirrus ever did,’ he lied. ‘Sirrus was a stingy old prick! All the years I gave to that man? Self-serving bastard!’

  That was rich, Jonas thought, trying to remain focused. ‘Well, there’s nothing more to say about Sirrus, seeing as how his head’s hanging from the gates.’

  ‘It is, and more besides. But not mine.’ Ollo had a big head, and a lot of hair; flaxen coloured braids framing a bloated face. ‘No, I saw how things would go, and quickly too. I didn’t intend to become just a head. For what? Ake Bluefinn? And what did he ever do for us?’

  Jonas needed to get him onside quickly. ‘Let’s not talk about kings who’ll soon be dead. From what I hear, your new lord has plans for him.’

  ‘He does indeed.’ Ollo puffed out his chest, wanting to appear content with his choice. ‘And soon I’ll be in Stornas, master of that famous market, or more, so perhaps I have no need of your silver, Jonas Bergstrom?’

  Jonas smiled, hearing the interest in Ollo’s voice. ‘I understand. I didn’t mean to trouble you. I’ve seen other familiar faces. Men I can ask for help. Men more in need of my silver.’ He turned, making to leave.

  ‘Help for what?’ Ollo called, hand out. ‘Why are you here?’

  And tucking away his smile, Jonas turned back around.

  ‘When we’re in Stornas,’ Hakon began, eyes on the mountains that loomed before them now. He was feeling better after his talk with Eddeth, and he carried his head high, his voice strong. ‘I’ll need to install my most trusted men around me in ways that will protect the kingdom. Ulrick spoke of the Northern threat, and I’ve no doubt it will come, knowing the ambitious men up there. So Stornas must be kept safe. I shall send you to Ottby, Lief. That’s where Ake put his most trusted man, and once I’m on the throne, it’s where I’ll place you.’

  Ivan’s eyebrows sharpened in surprise, wondering if his cousin had forgotten that he was riding right beside him.

  Lief looked just as confused. ‘Ottby?’ It wasn’t what he’d imagined at all, though such an appointment would not be without honour. His mind had been drifting away from his lord, trying to envision a future where Hakon, cast out by the gods, was no longer the right man for the Alekkan throne, and he blinked, feelings of guilt making him uncomfortable.

  ‘Yes, Ottby. You would like that, I think. And Falla.’

  Lief nodded. ‘She would, of course.’

  Ivan’s annoyance sparked, and sensing it, Hakon turned to him
with a grin. ‘Do you think I could be without you, Ivan? That I would send you away from Stornas? I could install you in Asberg or Blixo, both of them worthy lordships for you, Cousin, but I want you in Slussfall with me. I will be the King of Alekka, and you will be my Lord of Stornas.’

  Ivan’s frown eased, liking the sound of that.

  ‘I will have a kingdom to protect, to fight for and rule. And to protect my greatest jewel? Well, there could be no one but my greatest friend for that prestigious role.’

  Ivan was speechless. His cousin, who had nearly ruined everything in Ottby, who had then almost died, and then lurched around in a state of madness and terror, had returned to him, as bold and decisive and ambitious as ever. ‘Your talk with Eddeth went well, then?’ he laughed, shaking his head.

  ‘It did, it did,’ Hakon smiled. ‘Her advice was surprisingly succinct for such a strange creature, but it was gratefully received. The gods brought those women to me, I’m certain of it now. To save me, to show me the path to victory. And now I see it so clearly, as though it is bathed in the glow of Solla herself!’

  Lief eyed his lord, wondering if he was feverish. But no, Hakon appeared clear-eyed and full of intent. It was as though the hunt had never happened, as though The Hunter had not aimed his giant sabre at him, threatening his life. He tried not to shake his head, though he very much wanted to. ‘And where does that path lead to, my lord?’ he wondered with some trepidation.

  ‘Slussfall!’ Hakon announced, eyes up, as though he was seeing the fortress before him. ‘Everything waits for us in Slussfall!’

  Jonas had kept Vik away from Ollo Narp, not wanting to frighten him off. Vik intimidated Ollo, always had. It was better that he kept an eye on the rest of the fort, watching the prison hole, making sure that nothing happened to Magnus.