by A. E. Rayne
Alys could see Eddeth picking her wart, Ivan glowering beside her. And growing more uncomfortable by the moment, she turned her head, eyes drifting towards the trees, listening. Not to the bellowing lord, whose voice sometimes tremored as though he was in pain. Alys could hear it. She could see glimpses of his chest and his mark in her mind, and then she saw something more; deeper, deep inside Hakon’s memories.
‘Mirella, this is Hakon. My son with Arina.’
The woman glared at the man, jealousy flaring in green eyes. She was attractive, young. Golden hair hung past her breasts, strands at the sides of her face twisted into braids, pulled away from high cheekbones. She looked at the man with both love and hate, as though she couldn’t decide which she felt more acutely. ‘Well, you always wanted a son, Jesper. And now you have one.’
The boy was not quite a year old, Alys thought. He squirmed in his father’s arms, almost fighting to get away from him.
‘I always wanted a son with you, you know that, but what choice did I have? When you left me, what choice did I have, Mirella, but to find someone else?’
Alys blinked as Hakon tugged her closer, wanting to show her off. She could hear him talking to her, though her mind was trapped in two places and she wanted to stay in the vision.
It was important, somehow.
‘Alys, tell my men what you’ve seen! Tell them of the victory that awaits us all!’
But Alys couldn’t speak as the vision slipped away from her.
Mirella.
It was her mother’s name.
Jonas had turned their horrific supper into a fun game as they all tried to guess what it had been. Leonid was almost smiling as he decided it was rats. That the cooks had chopped up rats and flavoured them with mushrooms. Mushrooms and a little thyme, he added with a flourish.
Jonas laughed, which did nothing to distract him from the foul taste in his mouth, but he could see that Magnus appeared more alert, so he kept the game going. ‘Perhaps a little piss too?’
Magnus gagged. ‘Yuck! Don’t say that, Grandfather. Now it’s all I can think about!’
Leonid smiled. ‘I wouldn’t put it past them. And besides, there’s worse things than piss to be flavouring that stew.’
All three faces screwed up then.
‘Shut up!’ came a growl from the corner. ‘Or maybe I’ll cut you up into little pieces, and they can add you to tomorrow’s slop!’
Leonid and Magnus looked worried, but Jonas laughed again, not minding the grumblings of that angry lump in the corner. The man sounded like death was coming for him; he wouldn’t trouble them for long.
‘I think whatever it was, it’s stuck in my throat,’ Magnus croaked. ‘I wish we had something to drink.’
‘Mmmm, I couldn’t agree more.’ So struggling to his feet with a groan, Jonas headed to the door, banging on it. ‘We need some water in here!’ he called. ‘You need to give us some water!’
He aimed to make a lot of noise, hoping to attract the attention of a guard, wanting to get a message to Ollo, who would hopefully get a message to Vik. He’d had an idea for how they could get out, though it would only work if he could get Ollo’s help.
But it wasn’t Ollo who came to the door, opening up the little flap, peering through the hole. It wasn’t even Ollo’s man, Elmar, who had tried to get Magnus out of the fort, but it was someone Jonas knew.
Haegel Hedvik.
Jonas didn’t register any recognition in his voice at first. He knew Haegel was Ollo’s errand boy. They’d betrayed Sirrus together, with plenty of help it seemed judging by the number of familiar faces he’d seen around the old fort. ‘We need water. Preferably some ale. I’d take some milk for the boy, if you’ve got any? After the turds you served for supper, we need something to wash it away.’
Haegel’s eyes darted about nervously as Jonas stepped closer to the bars, grabbing them.
‘Get word to Ollo,’ he hissed. ‘I need to talk to him.’
‘He won’t come. He can’t. Ulrick Dyre made a big fuss. Ruined everything. He has to stay clear now, but don’t worry, he sent me to Vik. We’ve talked.’
Jonas looked surprised, and then hopeful. He raised his voice again, turning around. ‘What do you mean I’m not in a tavern?’ he joked loudly, before leaning forward, lowering his voice to barely a breath. ‘I know how to get us out. Something an old dreamer showed me once.’ And curling a frozen finger in Haegel’s direction, he urged him to come closer.
Alys hadn’t been able to stomach any supper, no matter how much Eddeth insisted that she needed to keep up her strength. Her mind was fixed on the vision of the woman and the memory of her name.
Jesper Vettel had called her Mirella.
Perhaps it was merely a coincidence? Nothing to do with her mother at all?
Having decided that Alys’ problem with the stew was its bland taste, Eddeth had gone hunting through her saddlebags, watched closely by one of Hakon’s men. And returning to the fire, she handed Alys an apple. ‘I packed this away for our ride. For Wilf. But you can have it.’
Alys shook her head. ‘I’m honestly not hungry, Eddeth. Give it to Wilf.’
‘But how will you sleep if you’re starving? And how will you dream if you can’t sleep?’
Alys thought back to her vision. She shrugged. ‘I see things sometimes without being asleep.’
Eddeth knew that. ‘But still, you promised that angry lord some dreams. If you don’t give him any, what will he do?’
That was a good question.
‘I’ve found you somewhere to sleep!’ Ivan announced with a grin, pleased to have convinced Hakon not to keep Alys in his tent, which he had been floating as an option. His cousin, feeling better, had become far too interested in the dreamer, and Ivan was growing concerned for her safety. ‘Falla said you can sleep in her tent. She’s sent Lief to sleep elsewhere.’ Ivan couldn’t help but smile, imagining how Lief felt about that.
Alys looked relieved, smiling at Eddeth. ‘Both of us?’
Ivan nodded. ‘I’ll take you now, if you like? You should get settled early, I think, before there’s any... trouble.’
‘Trouble?’
‘Well, the way things are going, I expect we’ll be trampled on by ice giants tonight. Or burned alive by dragons! What do you think?’ Ivan was grinning, but he felt ill, not having been so terrified of the dark since he was a boy. ‘And besides, best you hide from Hakon. He’s had a lot of ale. Don’t know where Rikkard found it all. Though, I think we’re all on edge, aren’t we? It’s one way to deal with things.’
‘It is,’ Eddeth agreed, remembering her second husband. ‘But it’s hardly going to convince Thenor to change his mind, is it? Becoming a drunk? Yelling at everyone?’ She was tired, feeling oddly irritable. Eager to get to Falla’s tent.
Ivan shivered, ushering Alys and Eddeth away from the fire, thinking of his chamber in Slussfall’s hall; the tapestry draped walls and the comfortable bed and the pleasure of shutting the door and being alone. Alone, or with an accommodating woman, hungry for his attention because he was the lord’s cousin.
Knowing that whatever was coming for his cousin next would likely come for him too.
27
‘Is something wrong?’ Elin whispered, hand on Reinar’s naked chest. ‘You’re very quiet.’
‘I’ve a lot on my mind, I suppose,’ Reinar sighed. ‘I can’t let Ake down. I have to see to the Vettels, but I don’t want to leave Ottby weak. More enemies are lurking out there than just the Vettels now, and they all seem to want the same thing.’
‘Which is?’
‘Alekka’s throne. The Vettels clung to it for four hundred years, and now they want it back, but if not them, it would be someone else. Ake’s dreamer sees trouble coming. Everywhere we turn, trouble’s waiting for us all.’
‘That sounds worrying.’
‘It does, but we can fight back, attack before we have to defend. We can keep them out of Ottby, don’t worry. Stornas too.’
&
nbsp; ‘Maybe you shouldn’t have let your dreamer go?’ Elin murmured, feeling Reinar freeze beneath her hand. ‘Though, according to Ilene, she had somewhere to be.’
‘Ilene? You don’t want to be gossiping with Ilene. She doesn’t have a good word to say about most people.’
‘Gossiping?’ Elin snorted. ‘Why are women always gossiping, yet men are talking? Hmmm?’
There was a flicker of humour in her voice, and Reinar smiled, though his thoughts had quickly turned to Alys, and he couldn’t shake the worry he felt, not knowing where she was or if she was safe.
Realising that her husband’s attention had wandered far away from her, Elin sought to bring it back, running her hand over his chest, down his leg.
Reinar closed his eyes, enjoying her touch, trying to relax.
‘What’s wrong?’ she soothed. ‘Something is. Something I’ve done?’
‘Done?’ Reinar turned to her. ‘I...’ He couldn’t find the right words. She was grieving, and he didn’t want to make her feel even worse.
‘I left you, so I don’t expect you to be happy with me. Perhaps you didn’t want me to come home? Perhaps you met someone new? Hoped I wouldn’t return?’ Elin shifted away from him, moving to the edge of the bed.
Reinar spluttered. ‘No, it’s not that. Nothing like that.’ Guilt tormented him, but Reinar didn’t want to hurt her with the truth. He wasn’t sure he even knew what the truth was anymore. ‘It was... I didn’t know why you’d left. I thought you were dead. In my heart, I feared that was the truth. There were whispers about why you’d gone, and what you’d done to yourself, even from those who knew you best.’
‘You mean Agnette?’
Her voice was sharp, and Reinar blinked, not wanting to get Agnette in trouble. ‘She helped you leave, I know, but she was worried about what you might do if you didn’t go. She loves you, Elin. We all do.’
Elin sank back against the pillow, squashing it into a more accommodating shape, angry at Agnette for being such a busy body. She’d been the same since they were children, always unable to keep her big mouth shut.
Reinar waited for Elin to say something, but she didn’t, and eventually, he rolled onto his side with a sigh, listening to the sound of the rain hammering the window.
Ollo and Haegel crouched over a table that was barely wider than a man. The tavern was packed on account of the snow coming down like a blizzard. Within moments, no one had been able to see a thing, and giving up on the day’s trading, they’d decided to spend their coins on ale, and a chance to enjoy a warm fire and some good company. Though Slussfall’s tavern was such a small, narrow building that there wasn’t enough space for every man and woman who wanted to get inside, and even now, Ollo could see the door jerk forward as another cold body tried to squeeze in.
‘But where are we going to find the herbs? How?’ Ollo certainly wanted the rest of Jonas’ silver, but he wasn’t convinced that his plan was worth the effort.
‘Mora might know. Or Eldrid Vissel. There’s a few women we can ask. There’s many we can trust. You know that, Ollo.’
Ollo dug a filthy nail between his front teeth, trying to free a piece of mutton. ‘I know many things, Haegel Hedvik, and what I know most of all is that you’re far too trusting for your own good. You think we just ask around, get more people in on this, and then what do we have on our hands? A cauldron full of greedy sods, all with their hands out, wanting their share. I’ve already promised Elmar something for trying to get that boy out, and then there’s you, and now you want to invite more?’
Haegel cradled his empty cup, wishing Ollo would buy another jug of ale. ‘I just don’t see how we find the herbs on our own.’
Ollo laughed. ‘We ask! We don’t need to say why, do we? We simply ask. Some woman will know.’
‘But then how will we make it?’ Haegel leaned forward. ‘The drink?’
‘I’ll get the lovely Mora to do it. She might even know where to find the herbs herself, don’t you worry. Then we’ll make up a drink and serve it to those guards.’ Ollo realised that he’d had too much ale and hadn’t lowered his voice at all. He bent forward until his big forehead was almost touching Haegel’s. ‘And then they’ll go to sleep, and you’ll get those gates open.’
‘Me?’ Haegel wasn’t sure that’s how it should go.
‘Of course you, you blithering fool. I need to stay out of it, don’t I? Ulrick coming back’s ruined all our plans. He’ll spot something for sure. Got eyes like a hawk, that one. Always watching, waiting to strike.’
Haegel wasn’t convinced that was Ollo’s real reason, but he didn’t argue further. ‘And when the gates are open?’
‘When the gates are open, that’s when the fun begins!’
Alys had tried to find her way back into the vision of the woman called Mirella. And then she’d stopped, knowing that it wasn’t something Hakon would care to hear about in the morning. She had to find something to tell him. She didn’t want to help him, but if she didn’t please him with some useful tidbit, she worried what he might do to her. He needed her, so he wouldn’t kill her, but the fear of being raped loomed large, especially after what had happened to poor Stina. Stina, who hadn’t looked like herself since. Perhaps she never would, Alys thought with a sigh, hoping her friend was safe, wherever she was.
‘Still your mind now, dreamer,’ Eddeth murmured beside her. ‘No chance of any sleep while your thoughts are charging around like angry trolls. Even I can hear them!’
They were lying on the ground together, Falla further away, snoring lightly, mouth wide open. And though neither woman trusted her, they felt grateful to her for inviting them into her shelter, far away from Hakon and his men.
‘Go to sleep now, Alys,’ Eddeth yawned. ‘Go and find a dream.’
Hakon lay on his mound of furs, comfortable and uncomfortable all at the same time. His belly wound was healing, he knew, because he could barely feel it. Or was that because the agony of the mark was so overwhelming that it was almost the only sensation Hakon could experience now?
He closed his eyes tighter, impatient to fall asleep.
Rikkard lay on the ground in the corner, muttering to himself. He was an irritating companion, at times, Hakon thought distractedly, remembering Njall, whose head had been hacked off by one of The Hunter’s shadow riders. And just thinking about The Hunter had Hakon shaking.
He remembered being a child, his stepmother leaning over his bed, whispering a story in his ear, not wanting to wake up Ivan, who lay fast asleep beside him. She would tell him about Thenor, the mightiest god of all, and how much he wanted to see the Vettel family returned to the throne. Hakon had always heard doubt in her voice, perhaps sadness too. He thought it was because she worried. Because she hated to see Jesper always going off to war, and eventually, taking his son and nephew with him. But maybe it was more? Maybe she knew that Thenor had never favoured them at all?
And mind racing with worry now, Hakon placed a hand on his chest, feeling the throbbing heat beneath his palm.
Lotta looked sad.
She was humming to herself as she stood on the pier watching the men ready the ship. The harbour was misty, the men’s breath streaming before them. Red hands worked quickly, wanting to be underway before the weather worsened. And by the grim look of the clouds crowding together in the distance, soon it would.
‘Princess!’
Alys watched her daughter turn towards the voice, her shoulders slumping, though her boots remained in place, firmly pressed together on the boards of the pier, not moving.
Alys stood on the opposite pier, a tear rolling down her right cheek. It felt cold on her skin. She lifted her hand, reaching out to her daughter. ‘Lotta! I’m here! Can you see me?’ Her voice was reed-thin, whipped away by the wind. ‘Lotta!’ Lotta looked around, staring at her, and Alys shivered, seeing no light in her eyes at all.
‘Don’t come to Slussfall, Mama. Whatever you do, don’t come to Slussfall.’
‘Princess!’
Alys frowned, hearing that man’s voice again, then seeing him as he approached, thick cloak billowing around him, long beard flapping.
‘We’re ready for you now.’
‘Lotta, no!’ Alys cried. ‘I’m coming for you! Wait, please, wait for me!’
But clasping the man’s hand, Lotta turned after him, not even looking her way. And though she was leaving, walking towards the ship, her little head turned down to her boots, Alys could hear her voice like a bell ringing inside her head. ‘Don’t come to Slussfall, Mama. Please!’
After a disturbed night of odd dreams, Reinar woke with a thumping headache and a silent wife, and he spent the morning barking at everyone, not feeling like himself at all. But seeing Sigurd, who was trying his best not to look as miserable as he felt, he took a deep breath, trying to calm down. ‘What’s that?’ he asked, eyes on the enormous mound of cloth his brother had carried down to the piers. ‘A new sail?’
Sigurd shook his head. ‘Old sailcloth for shelter. I’ve got three. Agnette’s organising more. Weather’s only going to get worse. No point freezing to death before we have any fun!’
Reinar nodded, pleased to know that Agnette was busy fussing, despite the added distraction of her infant daughter. He grinned at Bolli, who stood between him and Bjarni, muttering away as they checked on the progress of one of their oldest ships, Long Serpent. Bolli had had a crew of five men caulking it, and they’d just slid her back into the water. ‘Better?’