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

by A. E. Rayne

  Sigurd listened, thoughts of Tulia never far from his mind. He missed her voice, especially now, and grinning at Bolli, he realised that he needed to find his own. ‘Again!’ he roared. ‘We hit them again! Keep them focused on us! Again!’

  The sound of boulders assaulting the fort carried far and wide, every new crash resounding like thunder in the distance.

  Reinar walked behind Holgar, crouching over, wondering if it was thunder?

  ‘Keep going!’ he urged, voice booming off the walls of the tunnel. It was dark, but Holgar carried a tiny torch in his hand; one he’d hastily constructed once they’d made it up the small climb, into the tunnel, and they were all grateful for its light.

  Bjarni was breathless beside him, not needing to crouch at all. ‘Longest tunnel I’ve ever been in. By the time we get there, I’m going to need a nap!’ He thought of Agnette, hoping she was sound asleep, Liara lying peacefully beside her. His heart pounded as he squeezed his cold hand around the hilt of his sword, gripped by the urgent desire to keep himself alive.

  ‘Not long now,’ Reinar promised, certain he could see a smudge of light in the distance. He looked over his shoulder. ‘Have your weapons secure. Shields in hand. They might be waiting for us!’

  Berger grinned at Ilene. ‘Stay by me. I’ll keep you safe.’

  ‘You think I came all this way to watch you?’ she snorted, hoping she sounded braver than she felt, just wanting it to start.

  Knowing that soon, it would.

  Alys and Eddeth hurried down the hall steps, quickly immersed in fog. Aldo followed them, trying not to spill the potion; all three of them hooded and anxious. Alys could feel the sting of her bruised face, worried what Hakon would do if he found her gone.

  ‘We must keep you safe from that man,’ Eddeth insisted, slipping a hand through Alys’ arm. ‘Reinar would never forgive me if I let anything happen to you!’

  And thinking about Reinar, Alys jerked to a halt. ‘I can’t go with you.’

  ‘What?’ Eddeth wrinkled her nose in confusion. ‘What?’

  ‘You have to do it, Eddeth. If the guard finds me gone and tells Hakon, he’ll send men around the fort looking for me. I can’t come. I need you to get the gates open.’

  Eddeth looked disappointed as Aldo stopped beside them, confused. ‘No, you can’t, but what will you do? Go back to the chamber?’

  Alys shook her head. ‘No, I’ll go to Hakon. Keep him busy.’

  ‘Oh no you won’t!’

  ‘Don’t worry, I can distract him.’

  Silence. Dark and foggy silence.

  And then Eddeth sneezed.

  ‘I’ll be safe, I promise. Now go. I have to find Hakon!’ And without waiting for any further arguments, Alys turned away from them, disappearing into the fog.

  Eddeth shuddered, worried, nervous, and then quickly eager to get on. ‘Well, don’t stand about slouching, Aldo Varnass! Let’s get to the gates!’

  Hakon’s mind skipped back to Alys, seeing her lying on her belly, confusing him. He’d hit her, he remembered. And then what? What else? Everything was so clouded in his mind, and he felt an urge to see her, to hear her advice. It was dark, but surely she’d be able to see. ‘Lief!’ he shouted. ‘Go get the dreamer! Bring her up here. Let’s see what she can find!’

  Lief was already bleeding from shards of stone slicing across his face, and he didn’t think it made sense to expose the dreamer to so much danger. ‘Why don’t we go and see her in the hall, my lord? It’s safer.’

  Hakon dismissed his concerns with speed. ‘Bring her here! Now!’

  There was nothing more to say, and Lief nodded, heading for the guard tower. Hakon watched him go, mind humming with loud voices, listening to the hiss of arrows flying from the walls.

  Waiting for dawn.

  46

  The sound of the assault on the fort was a welcome development in what had been a tedious few days for the cave dwellers. They could hear the booms in the distance, and no one could sleep, though sleep would have been useful for all of them, Vik thought, yawning as he prodded the fire.

  Ollo crouched beside him. ‘And when it’s all done?’ His voice was a throaty whisper, not wanting anyone else to hear.

  ‘Oh, you’ll get your silver, Ollo. Jonas won’t go back on his word.’

  Ollo was pleased to hear it. He thought of poor Haegel, who’d been excitedly talking about what he would do with his share.

  But that wasn’t what was on his mind. Not the silver.

  ‘The Vilanders, if they win, if we help them, they won’t be happy with us.’ Ollo inclined his head to where the rest of his men gathered around Jonas, preparing their weapons. They would leave soon, all of them, wanting to be ready.

  ‘Nothing I can do about that, Ollo. You’re the one who shat all over your reputation.’

  ‘And you don’t believe in redemption? A second chance?’

  ‘It’s not about what I believe. You’re the oathbreaker. That’s between you and the gods. Between you and Ake.’ Vik was silent, memories of his conversation with Jonas still lingering, unsettling him. ‘Though you help us take back that fort, put it in Southern hands again, and Ake will look more kindly on you, I’m sure.’

  Ollo weighed Vik’s words, hearing some doubt in them. Ake’s reputation was one of fairness, though he could be a ruthless bastard at times. A stubborn, ruthless bastard, who valued loyalty above all things. He frowned, standing, eyes on Jonas, who was saying goodbye to his grandson. ‘Well then, we’d better put Ake in a good mood, hadn’t we?’ And winking at Vik, he headed to the rear of the cave to check on his men.

  ‘Everything alright?’ Jonas felt out of sorts after his talk with Vik, wondering if he should have revealed any of it. Secrets were hard to keep, sometimes harder to share. He rubbed a hand over his face, wanting to head to the stream and splash some water on it, needing to wake himself up.

  Vik nodded. ‘Just Ollo, wondering if Ake will kill him.’

  Jonas grinned. ‘Who knows?’

  Vik peered at Magnus, who was unhappy about being left behind. ‘No point sulking. You don’t want to get yourself killed before you get a glimpse of your mother again, do you? She’d never forgive us for that.’ He saw the scowl on the boy’s face, and he smiled. ‘You think you can rescue your sister if you’re lying dead out there somewhere, arrow through your stubborn little head?’

  Magnus scowled some more.

  Vik didn’t blame him. Nor did Jonas. But Magnus wasn’t coming with them.

  ‘You’ll be safe with Leonid,’ Jonas tried, hoping that was true. ‘Or he’ll be safe with you. You know how to protect him now, so keep that knife with you in case you need to.’ Magnus’ shoulders straightened, and he smiled, seeing how eager the boy was to be useful.

  ‘I do. We’ll stay alert.’

  ‘I hope so. You’ll need to listen out for what’s coming. In case someone is.’ Leonid was there now, and though he was nine years older than Magnus, he acted much like his ten-year-old companion, and Vik was sure he could hear Leonid’s teeth chattering with nerves. ‘You’ll need to hide. If you’ve got time, Magnus, hide.’ He looked up, peering at Leonid, who nodded.

  Vik’s attention moved to Ollo, who was back with his men, ready to leave, legs jiggling, hearing more thundering in the distance, leaving Jonas to take another moment with Magnus.

  Jonas drew his great-grandson away from the men. ‘We’ll get your mother out of that fort, don’t worry.’

  Magnus nodded, feeling worried.

  ‘And then we’ll go and find Lotta. Stay here and stay safe, Magnus. A time will come in your life when you’re the one running off with a sword trying to be a hero,’ Jonas smiled. ‘But this isn’t it. The most helpful thing you can do is stay here. It’s where your mother would want you to be.’

  Magnus knew Jonas was right, but he wasn’t convinced that any of those men would be able to save his mother. She was his mother. He wanted to keep her safe.

  And then Jonas’ a
rms were around him, and he almost cried, not wanting him to go, but in the next breath, Jonas had stepped away, smiling at him. ‘We’ll be back with your mother. Soon. Stay safe until then.’

  There was no guard outside the chamber.

  The door was open.

  And death permeated the air.

  Lief ran into Alys’ chamber, horrified to find Ivan lying on the floor, draped in a fur, sword in hand. He dropped to the flagstones, lifting the fur, checking that Ivan was dead, and then, eyes sweeping the chamber, he saw the messy bed, furs on the ground, the overturned chair.

  It didn’t take long to determine what had happened.

  But where was the dreamer?

  Aldo was a useful assistant. A boy who knew his way around the hall kitchen, and while Eddeth had been putting the finishing touches to her potion, he’d helped himself to a cask of wine from Hakon Vettel’s stores. Eddeth’s potion had a strong scent, and she’d worried that it would disturb the flavour of ale.

  Wine was a safer bet.

  And now they hurried towards the alley by the main gates where Aldo had hidden the cask, jugs, tray and cups; everything he would need to deliver the potion-laced wine to the guards on the ramparts and those watching the gates beneath it.

  The fog was oppressive, so thick that they were both struggling to navigate their way safely, afraid of what dangers were lurking in the square.

  ‘Come on!’ Eddeth called, looking over her shoulder, wanting to hurry the boy along. ‘We need to get to the gates!’ And turning back around, she tripped over, falling onto her hands and knees with a crash.

  ‘Eddeth!’

  ‘No, wait!’ she shrieked as Aldo came hurrying towards her. He stopped abruptly, potion sloshing in the wooden bowl, tips of his boots just touching the body of a drunken man who had fallen asleep in the middle of the square.

  ‘For the love of the gods, I think my heart stopped!’ And back on her feet with a click of her hips and a wobbly smile, Eddeth slipped her arm through Aldo’s, not wanting to fall over again. ‘Slower, I think, don’t you?’

  Ludo paced the ship, unable to stay still. He was rarely left in command. He could usually turn to his left and see Sigurd, to his right and see Reinar. If not them, there was Bjarni. One of them had always stood near him, issuing orders, pointing him in this direction or that. There was usually even Bolli or Holgar. And once there’d been Stellan. But in the darkness, rocking on an unfamiliar ship, oddly named Victory, everyone was looking at him.

  He knew the helmsman, Falki Grimsson, one of the youngest in Ottby. He had a nervous style, quieter than most. And though it was dark, and his hands remained on the tiller, Ludo could sense Falki constantly moving too. Twitching, wanting something to happen. Ready to begin.

  Men waited in the bow by the catapult, rubbing cold hands together.

  Ludo’s mind drifted to Stina, and he felt a familiar twinge of guilt. He hoped she would stay safe with Reinar.

  ‘Ludo!’ called a man standing near the prow. ‘Dawn! It’s coming!’

  And heart in his mouth, Ludo could see that he was right, the first sliver of light showing in the distance now. Turning to Falki, he took a deep breath. ‘Alright. Let’s go.’

  Sigurd had so far managed to avoid getting hit, though arrows were now coming at them like hail.

  ‘One way to use them all up!’ Bolli cackled from his right, shield arm working hard. ‘By the time that sun’s in our eyes, they’ll have nothing left to shoot at us!’

  Sigurd hoped he was right. He heard more thuds, a yelp of pain, someone tumbling to the deck. He could see the first breaths of the new day, and lifting his head, praying to Thenor that Ludo was where he needed to be and that Reinar was safe, he heard the crash of boulders striking Slussfall’s walls from the north.

  Bolli grinned, slapping Sigurd on the back. ‘The boy’s there. He’s there!’

  They felt relieved, knowing how tricky it was to navigate the rocks around the headland in the dark. Bolli had wanted to swap places with Falki Grimsson, though he knew that Falki had the sharpest eyes of any helmsman in their fleet. And despite being light on years, his ability to see like a hawk made him the best man for the job.

  ‘Well, let’s hope he can keep the Vettels busy for a while. We don’t have much left.’ Sigurd had been up and down the ship with his shield, talking to Torfinn, working through their strategy. They’d decided to attack the fort all at once, wanting to swamp the Vettels’ defenses like a cloud, giving their enemy little time to decide where to aim their reply. But now, with dawn coming, their boulders were almost depleted, and soon they would struggle to fling much more than a wet boot Hakon Vettel’s way.

  Lief had spent too long looking for Alys, disturbed by what he’d found in her chamber, reluctant to head back to the ramparts. He hadn’t known what to do. If he went back to the wall without her, Hakon would go wild, ordering the fort searched, tearing it apart to find her, distracting everyone. And after seeing what Hakon had done to Ivan, Lief didn’t want him near the dreamer. So, ducking his head, stomach churning, he headed for the guard tower, hoping the new day would bring an end to the thick fog. He could barely see a step in front of himself.

  And then he banged into someone, knocking them to the ground with a yelp.

  A woman.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Lief called out, bending down, surprised to see it was Alys. He held out a hand, pulling her to her feet. ‘Where have you been? Hakon wanted to see you. I went to your chamber and –’

  Alys squeezed Lief’s hand. ‘Let’s get up to the ramparts. Come on!’

  Lief pushed his feet down into his boots, not moving. ‘Hakon did that? To Ivan?’

  But Alys didn’t have time for talking. She needed to keep Hakon up on the ramparts, far away from Eddeth and Aldo so they could get those gates open. ‘We need to get to the wall!’ And tugging Lief’s hand, Alys moved him along.

  Hakon’s constant screaming had turned his voice into little more than a strained rasp.

  Jerrick had managed to distract his lord for a time, but now Hakon couldn’t be shifted from fixating on where Lief was with his dreamer. He was enraged, stomping up and down the rampart walk, barely aware of the boulders crashing into the wall.

  Jerrick wondered where Lief was himself, wishing he would hurry, though the more pressing problem of the attack commanded most of his attention. No matter the trouble they had with their angry lord, it was nothing compared to the trouble they would face if the Vilanders took Slussfall.

  ‘Jerrick!’ Hakon turned towards him, arms flailing. ‘Where’s Edvin? I want him on the western wall!’

  ‘You sent him away, my lord. He’s taken his men to the north.’

  Hakon growled. ‘And why aren’t our archers firing on the harbour? Why?’ The mark was a searing pain in the middle of his chest now, and he kept blinking, trying to sharpen his vision, his skin crawling again.

  ‘We must conserve our arrows, lord. The sun is rising, it’s coming. We’ll have more success when we can see.’

  ‘You can’t see, Jerrick? Are you too old? Do your eyes not work?’

  Jerrick didn’t think that insults were the answer to their problems. He clamped his lips together, swinging around as another boulder struck the northern wall, shuddering the ramparts.

  And then Lief was there, emerging from the guard tower, leading a cloaked Alys towards his lord.

  Hakon glowered at them both, suspicion in his eyes, Alys’ words ringing in his ears. What she’d said made no sense. No sense at all. He didn’t know what games she was playing, but he didn’t have time for any of it. He needed to know what she could see. And reaching her, Hakon gripped her arm. ‘Where have you been?’ He blinked, seeing visions of Mirella now. Mirella and her freckled nose. ‘I need to know what you can see, Alys. Where are my enemies? What are they planning?’

  Lief, fighting the urge to pull Alys out of Hakon’s hands, instead turned away to speak to Jerrick, knowing that waging war with the Vilande
rs was more important now than battling his lord. The sun was beginning to rise, and though dense bands of fog were still stretched across the harbour, he knew that the contours of their enemy would soon take shape.

  Alys saw flashes of Hakon as a baby, and she felt odd. This man was her brother, they shared a father, yet he’d tried to rape her, he’d killed Ivan, and he wanted to kill everyone she cared about.

  If she helped him, he would burn them all to ash, including her son.

  ‘They’ve separated their fleet,’ she started, trying to find a way to keep everyone safe, doubting it was possible, scattered all around Slussfall as they were.

  ‘I know that!’ Hakon snapped, squeezing her arm. ‘I can hear that!’ His archers were firing arrows at Reinar Vilander’s ships – those anchored in the mouth of the harbour now – and he felt happier, though the ramparts were still under attack. He dragged Alys behind a protective wall. ‘What are they planning next? Tell me!’

  Alys didn’t want to.

  Hakon peered down at her. ‘Tell me about Reinar Vilander.’

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘Are you trying to help him?’

  ‘No! He captured me. Killed my husband!’

  ‘Then why won’t you tell me the truth, Alys? Why won’t you tell me what you really see?’ Hakon growled, lowering his lips to her ear. ‘You think I can’t see your lies? Can’t hear them? Oh, you’d be surprised what I can hear, Alys!’

  Alys blinked, Hakon’s fingers digging into her arm, knowing that in order to save Reinar and help Eddeth, she had to put Sigurd in danger.