by A. E. Rayne
Hakon tried to move. Legs thrashing, he tried to move.
Thunder crashed overhead, clouds sweeping in like smoke, dark and threatening, and no one spoke. Eyes up, everyone wondered what was coming.
For surely something was.
It was suddenly so cold.
Alys could hear thunder, and feeling odd, she left the bedchamber, overheated by Aldo’s blazing fire, wanting some air. Falla and Karolina talked constantly, Eddeth moved constantly, and the children cried constantly, and she needed to find some space to think. There was no one in the corridor now. She wondered where the guard had gone, feeling concerned. There was barely anyone in the hall at all. The slaves had hidden with the servants in the kitchen, none of them knowing who would be their master come the end of the day.
‘Families,’ came the voice as Alys walked, giant flagstones cold beneath her boots, the fires having burned down to nothing in the central fire pits. ‘Families love, and they hate. They come together, and they make war.’
Alys stopped. ‘War?’
The man guarding the hall doors stared at her, wondering if she was talking to him.
She hurried forward, wanting to go outside, and suddenly seeing no reason to keep her locked in, the guard pulled up the beam and opened the door.
Alys stepped outside, surprised by how empty the square was. It was as though no one was there at all.
‘Yes, war,’ came the voice.
And Alys saw a man striding towards her.
He wore a black cloak, plain and long, sweeping the ground, much like her own. He was taller than most men, broad-shouldered, older, with white hair that fell past his shoulders, loose and wild. He wore a wide-brimmed hat that shaded his eyes, and Alys saw little of his face, though his perfectly groomed beard caught her attention: long and white, with a thick dark stripe straight down the middle.
‘Families make war,’ the man growled. ‘And therefore, they must take sides.’
He stopped, watching her.
And Alys, frozen at the top of the hall steps, stopped, watching him.
‘And I choose you, Alys, to be on my side.’
The man in the wide-brimmed hat smiled, teeth showing.
More thunder, and now rain.
Alys didn’t notice. ‘Your side?’
‘This land is mine, I command it, and for too many years, I sat back and watched as it was torn apart. Once I sought to keep the peace, to hold my family together, but I have come to see that as an impossible choice now. A path I am no longer able to continue down. So now is the time to choose, and I choose you. You and the Vilanders. We will go to war together, Alys de Sant.’
Alys hated that name. She didn’t want it anymore.
Thenor, Father of the Gods, laughed. ‘You wish to become someone else?’
‘I wish to be who I was.’
‘A Vettel?’
‘I was never a Vettel. I never will be.’
Thenor smiled. ‘Blood cannot be ignored, and you will not be able to ignore what stirs in your veins, Alys, as much as you might try. None of us can run from our ties. From who we are. Not even the gods.’
‘And the Vilanders? ’
‘You must go back inside. Trust in me now, I ask that of you. Trust in me, for not every path leads where you hope, but eventually, with some luck, you will wind up exactly where you need to be. Go now, and protect that child, for he is your blood, and I have no wish for his to be spilled. Not today.’
Alys heard another crack of thunder, shattering the silence and she blinked, watching the square, unable to see Thenor anymore.
50
No one moved.
Reinar stood astride Hakon Vettel’s body, bloody knife in hand, jaw clenched. ‘Thenor is here!’ He threw back his head, feeling the Father of the Gods all around them. ‘Thenor is watching! He’s sent me to take your life!’
The mark on Hakon’s chest felt as though it was growing inside him now, setting him on fire. He couldn’t breathe. Pain consumed him, fiery, hot pain, and he cried out, fear in his eyes. He shrank away from Reinar’s blade, sobbing, and Reinar straightened up, watching him. ‘No! Please!’ Hakon begged, desperate to make the pain stop. It felt as though someone had their hands inside him, pulling him apart.
He felt his heart torn in two, his chest crushed, his limbs snapping.
Screaming, loud inside his head. Roaring laughter.
Hot flaming fire.
And then a voice.
‘He’s right, Hakon. You know he’s right. I did send Reinar Vilander to kill you. And he has. You are dying, bleeding, ending. Though everything ends, eventually...’
Hakon blinked, seeing the man looming behind Reinar like a tree. He was so tall, so broad, his hat shielding his eyes, though if he were truly Thenor, Hakon knew that his eyes were pale blue. That’s what his father had told him as he tucked him in at night. Thenor, with his black-and-white beard and his pale-blue eyes. ‘Just like you, my son. And one day, you will sit on the Alekkan throne in Stornas, and you will make Thenor proud.’
‘Though that is not true, Hakon,’ Thenor smiled, leaning closer now so Hakon saw nothing else. ‘Your father was a cruel man, and I have had my fill of cruel, cowardly men who care nothing for their people. Who think that greed and self-interest is a worthwhile pursuit. I have had my fill of men like you.’ And moving back, Thenor bent to Reinar’s ear. ‘Finish him.’
Reinar blinked, hearing that voice jolt through his body like a lightning strike, and he jammed his knife into Hakon’s throat, pushing it down until he was certain the tip of the blade was scraping earth.
He stood there for a moment, seeing the image of his dead sons, knowing that Hakon’s dreamer had cursed his family; seeing his father sitting in his chair, lifeless, a shell of the man he had once been. And nothing could bring them back.
Nothing could.
Nothing.
And dropping his head, watching the life leave Hakon’s eyes, Reinar Vilander cried.
‘What’s happening?’ Eddeth couldn’t contain her impatience as Alys returned to the chamber. ‘What have you seen?’
Alys felt odd. Upset. She’d seen everything.
‘Hakon is dead.’
Karolina was stunned, eyes shifting to her son, who wailed in his nursemaid’s arms.
‘Oh!’ That was more than Eddeth had been expecting.
‘Reinar killed him.’
‘And Lief?’ Falla was beside her, panicking now.
Alys shrugged. ‘I... don’t know.’
That wasn’t what Falla wanted to hear, and she rushed to the door, wanting to see where Lief was. ‘You promised me!’ she raged, turning back to Alys. ‘You promised me!’
‘Stop it, Falla Gundersen!’ Eddeth grumbled. ‘That won’t help. Alys could never control all those hot-headed men out there. Fools, the lot of them!’
‘Let me find Lief,’ Alys said, knowing how much Falla had helped them. ‘Let me sit quietly and see what I can find.’
Breath coming in panicked waves, Falla gripped her belly as Alys hurried to a chair, closing her eyes. Falla returned to a shellshocked Karolina, who wasn’t sure what was going to happen to her and her son now that her husband was dead.
She blinked at the door, remembering Alys’ dream.
‘We don’t want to go to war with you!’ Reinar bellowed, stepping away from Hakon’s dead body, eager to catch his breath. He was conscious of the tension simmering; the storm crashing down upon them, threatening a downpour. ‘We don’t want to kill you!’
It was true. The crowded passage reeked of death and bleeding wounds which needed tending to. Reinar thought of Holgar, lying by the tunnel, hoping he still lived. ‘We need to help the wounded! We need a drink! A chance to stop and think! We don’t need to be enemies! The South is Ake’s kingdom! For twenty years he’s ruled here as a good king! A good man! Throw down your weapons now, and he’ll welcome you. Your lord is dead. Thenor took him! You saw that! The gods turned against Hakon! They wanted an end to
him and his entire family!’ And bending down, Reinar knew that he had to show them. Their faces were stunned, sceptical, and he needed to get through to them, so hoping that Alys had been right, Reinar took his knife to Hakon’s mail shirt.
Sigurd and Ludo pushed through the crowd, helping him rip a hole in Hakon’s mail and tunic, and eventually, they exposed the Lord of Slussfall’s pale chest which revealed an enormous symbol, the tendrils of it spreading over his body like tree roots. Reinar gasped, almost stumbling away, surprised that he felt so surprised.
Sigurd turned to Ludo, who was too stunned to even blink.
And slowly, one by one, Hakon’s men came to view the body, unnerved by the sight of that mark burned into their lord’s chest, knowing that Reinar Vilander had spoken the truth; that the Father of the Gods had sent him to claim their lord.
And after that, there was no resistance.
How could there be?
But for Reinar there was no easing of tension. He felt displaced. Odd.
He needed to find Alys.
So did Jonas, and he was quickly moving through the crowd with Vik, trying to make his way back to the hall. Desperate to avoid them, Reinar slipped away, heading in the opposite direction, wanting to get to the hall before anyone could stop him.
Emerging from her trance, Alys blinked up at Falla. ‘He’s alive. Wounded. I think they’ve forgotten him. He’s outside by the piers, on the ground.’
Falla looked ready to fall down, and she cupped her belly, thanking Valera, tears in her eyes. ‘I need to see him! To help him!’
‘Wait!’ Alys stood, trying to bring herself back into the chamber. ‘Eddeth, keep everyone in here, please.’
Eddeth jumped off the bed, weary with the drama of the day, but she nodded as Alys headed out of the chamber, closing the door behind her.
The guard had returned, Alys saw.
‘You leaving?’ he asked gruffly.
Alys shook her head, then nodded it. ‘I suppose I am.’
It didn’t take long. Her heart raced as she smoothed down her dress, brushing hair out of her eyes, feeling silly for doing both.
And then he was there.
‘Alys!’ Reinar ran to her, stopping just before her, hands on her arms.
He always had his hands on her arms, she thought with a sad smile, wanting to fall into his.
Reinar saw her swollen eye. ‘What did he do?’
‘Nothing, he did nothing. He tried, but nothing happened.’ Alys felt relieved that that was true, wanting to cry. It was so good to see him.
And yet...
She tried to step back, but Reinar moved closer, not convinced. He held a hand to her face, gently touching around her eye. ‘He did this to you? Hakon?’
Alys nodded.
A baby cried.
Reinar’s eyes snapped to the door.
‘You can’t, Reinar. You can’t.’
‘I have to. You know I do. Ake ordered me to. I have no choice. I don’t want to, but I’ve no choice. It’s for the best.’
‘The best? Killing a child? A baby?’ Alys was horrified, missing her own children with a desperation she could barely contain. ‘You’re not that man. You’ll never be that man.’
‘No.’ That was true enough. ‘But to save a kingdom, a man must do things he can’t stomach. To save a kingdom, a man must risk his soul. Ake told me I had to kill every last Vettel. I can’t keep even one of them alive.’
‘Then you must kill me.’
Reinar didn’t understand. He heard footsteps, and he knew that he was running out of time. ‘What do you mean, kill you?’
Alys didn’t want to say it out loud, but it was the truth, and she couldn’t run from it anymore. ‘I saw... I dreamed... I discovered who I really was.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m a Vettel, Reinar. My father was Jesper Vettel. If you want to kill every Vettel left in Alekka, you will have to kill me. My children too.’
‘It’s true.’ Jonas’ voice broke, and they both turned to him. He was staring at Alys, pain in his eyes. ‘You saw it? After all these years, you saw the truth?’
Alys nodded, running into his arms, bursting into tears.
‘Your grandmother tried to hide it from you,’ Jonas cried, holding her close. ‘I did too.’ The feel of his granddaughter in his arms was a tonic for his weary body, and he felt a peace descend upon him, his aching limbs flooding with relief. ‘We needed to keep you safe. If Jesper had found out, he would’ve tried to take you from us. Who knows what he would have done to you. For all that I could say about your mother, she never wanted that. She gave you to us when you were only six days old. Six days...’ Jonas squeezed Alys, his eyes blurring now. ‘Oh, my sweet girl, I’ve missed you!’
‘I shouldn’t have run away. All those years ago. I... I’m so sorry. For everything!’
Jonas held her close, feeling her shudder, and pulling back, he stared at her. ‘I taught you how to kill, Alys Bergstrom. Taught you how to stay safe. To survive. You haven’t forgotten, have you?’
She shook her head, eyes on Reinar. ‘No.’
‘Well, good.’ And now Jonas’ eyes were on Reinar too. ‘I don’t blame you for trying to follow Ake’s orders. I don’t blame Ake for wanting the boy dead. If he’d killed Hakon in the first place, none of us would be here now.’
Reinar looked uncomfortable, watching Alys as she slipped out of her grandfather’s arms. ‘Why didn’t you say that you were Jonas’ granddaughter?’
Alys almost laughed. ‘When was I supposed to say something, Reinar? When you were dragging me away from my home? I didn’t even know who you were. Not at first, and by then...’
Jonas felt awkward; in the wrong place. He thought of Magnus, wanting to get back to the cave to make sure that he was safe with Leonid. ‘I’ll leave you to it,’ he mumbled.
Alys stared at him, not wanting him to go, and yet...
Jonas smiled. ‘Take your time.’ He remembered what it felt like to be looked at the way Reinar Vilander was looking at his granddaughter, and though his feelings whipped around him in a maelstrom of confusion, he knew it was time to leave. ‘I’ll get Magnus, bring him to you.’
‘Magnus?’ Alys’ face lit up, her heart lifting.
‘He’s nearby, in a cave. I’ll get him, don’t worry.’ And turning away, Jonas headed out of the hall.
Leaving Reinar and Alys, and the crying baby behind the door.
‘You won’t kill him.’
‘Won’t I?’
‘No. I know you. You won’t.’
Reinar blinked.
‘We’re all Vettels, sad as it may be to say, but we aren’t like Hakon or his father, or even his grandfather. And Anders’ mother is a kind woman. A good woman. Give her a chance to raise the boy with love. Give her a chance.’
Reinar frowned.
‘And me.’
‘You?’ He stepped closer, until he could smell her breath. It was sweet, like honey, and unable to stop himself, Reinar bent down, kissing Alys deeply, feeling her sink into his arms, head dropping back, kissing him with longing.
‘Your wife,’ Alys breathed, at last, leaning against his chest, her head under his chin.
Reinar gripped her arms, pushing away, staring down at her with pain in his eyes.
He didn’t know how he felt.
And sensing it, Alys stepped out of his grasp.
‘Hakon killed Ivan.’
Reinar was relieved to hear it.
‘Ivan was a good man. He tried to save me from Hakon, to stop him... raping me. He protected and cared for Hakon all his life, and Hakon just killed him. Left him dying, didn’t care about him at all.’ Alys felt guilty, knowing that Ivan had given his life to try and protect hers. More than guilty. She felt sad.
‘But he saved you?’
Alys nodded, relieved about that. ‘He did.’
Reinar felt relieved too, shoulders releasing their tension at last. He stared at the door, hearing the baby’s cry
, softer now. ‘There’s a lot to do. Injuries, men to see to.’ He turned away.
‘I need you to find someone!’ Alys said urgently, remembering Falla. ‘Lief Gundersen. His wife helped us to open the gates. She helped Eddeth. I promised her things...’
Reinar lifted an eyebrow, but he nodded.
She smiled, not wanting him to go.
He started to leave anyway, but stopping, he turned back to her. ‘Stina’s waiting on Fury...’ He thought of his wife and didn’t say any more.
Alys shivered. ‘I have to go north.’
‘North? After your daughter?’
‘Yes. I have to find her.’
‘I have to go south.’
Alys nodded, wishing that wasn’t true.
‘I can send Sigurd with you?’ Reinar suggested. ‘Or Ludo? You need some help this time.’ Now his voice deepened, determined not to let her go off on her own again.
‘I’ll have help, don’t worry.’Alys thought of Jonas and Vik and Magnus. ‘I’ll have plenty of help.’
Reinar stared at her. ‘Will I ever see you again?’
‘You will,’ Alys smiled. ‘I’ll have to bring Eddeth back to Ottby once we find Lotta.’
Reinar nodded, not knowing what else to say.
And reluctantly turning away from Alys, he headed down the corridor, walking away from everything Ake had tasked him to do.
Walking away from everything he wanted.
They picked through the bodies and pulled out the injured, carrying them into the square where market tables were used to care for those men who needed their limbs stitched up, wrapped up, or in some cases, sawn off.