Vale of the Gods

by A. E. Rayne

  It wasn’t.

  ‘We have to go! Now!’ Morana grabbed Dragmall’s satchel and headed for the door.

  ‘Morana!’ Dragmall was quickly on his feet, pulling a shaking Else with him. ‘Where will we go? Where can we go?’

  ‘You tell me!’ Morana growled, spinning around, fear in her eyes. ‘Who would you rather be killed by? Draguta or Briggit? Either way, we’re dead, so you’d better find somewhere for us to hide. Now!’

  Dragmall shook his head, realising that the hole he’d dug with Morana Gallas was getting deeper by the day. ‘I know of a place,’ he said, reaching for Else’s shaking hand. ‘But we must hurry.’

  Jaeger had left Eadmund and their men to round up the Followers, and quell any resistance out in the square, of which there appeared to be none. The clouds of dust were dispersing, aided by a determined wind, though the smell of scorched flesh and smoke was still clogging the air, making it difficult to breathe. Fires continued to burn throughout the city, and the sound of flaming thatch crackled and popped in the distance.

  Jaeger had taken Briggit into the castle, wanting to find something for his dry throat. He could barely speak, and his back was dripping with sweat, though he felt happier than he had in days, knowing that he had captured the prize Draguta wanted more than any other.

  The most beautiful prize he had ever seen, if he didn’t count Evaine Gallas.

  Which he didn’t.

  Jaeger drank the wine Briggit’s slave had poured into a golden goblet, wiping a dusty hand across his dusty mouth. ‘A bit... sour,’ he declared. ‘Much like you.’ He had thrown Briggit onto her golden throne, shackling her in the iron fetters Draguta had designed to enslave her prisoners. Fetters engraved with symbols that would keep Briggit’s magic at bay.

  He hoped.

  Briggit watched him strutting around in front of her like a peacock. She didn’t know what he was going to do. It bothered her. Draguta had done something to him. Shielded him. She couldn’t hear his thoughts, couldn’t tell what was coming next. Looking down at the iron shackles he had clamped around her wrists, Briggit noticed the tiny symbols carved into them. Her shoulders tightened, dark eyebrows knitting together in displeasure.

  Jaeger Dragos didn’t frighten her, though. Not a boorish, empty-headed oaf like him. ‘Well, why not go back to your own slum kingdom, then, where the wine is sweet, and the girls are all wet between their legs for you!’

  Jaeger laughed. Beautiful. Quick. Smart.

  A queen.

  There was nothing not to like about Briggit Halvardar.

  ‘True, but I do like to travel. See the world. Sample the delicacies on offer.’

  ‘Well, go on, then,’ Briggit dared, pushing herself up out of her throne. The Followers were being dragged into the hall now, masked in dust, shocked, confused, some bleeding. She saw Sabine and Lillith cowering together, watching her. The Hestian soldiers were shoving and pushing them all down to the floor, threatening them with swords and fists. Briggit scowled, avoiding their eyes which inevitably turned to her, wanting to believe that she had a plan.

  Briggit wasn’t sure that she did.

  She was still in shock that her circle had broken. The symbol she had used was the most powerful symbol of all. Raemus’ symbol. One very few knew about, if any. She had not seen the breaking of the circle in her dreams, nor the destruction of the wall, but no one needed to know that. Especially not Jaeger Dragos. ‘Do what you must. It will not trouble us.’

  ‘Ha! Not trouble you to lose your heads? You can grow another, can you? With your spells? Your symbols? A new head?’ Jaeger walked towards Briggit, bending over. She was small, but there was strength in her. He could feel it almost vibrating in her lithe body. The way she glared at him, the intensity in her eyes.

  He could feel her power, and it excited him.

  ‘You will not take our heads. Your mistress wouldn’t be happy if you did, would she?’ Briggit challenged, her mind whirring. ‘That is not why you’re here. You’re here for me. For all of us. For my ships and my gold. Take just our heads back to Draguta, and how will she reward you?’

  Jaeger tried to still his pulsing body, his face impassive. As charged as he felt by the conquest of Angard, he was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to sit down. Or fall down. His head was thumping, though he wasn’t going to show any weakness before Briggit. He was a king, and she didn’t need to know how ill he felt, or how desperate he was to please Draguta. ‘You’re right,’ he agreed, lowering his head until he could smell her sweet breath. ‘And soon you’ll be with her, and she will have her fun with you, but, until then, I’ll have mine.’ And grabbing her shoulders, Jaeger brought Briggit close, kissing her lips, pushing his tongue into her mouth.

  Briggit squirmed, biting his tongue, pushing him away, kicking him between the legs. Jaeger stumbled, fury flashing in his eyes. He swung back a hand, ready to slap her.

  But Eadmund grabbed it. ‘I don’t think so.’

  Jaeger spun, trying to yank his hand away, but Eadmund held on, his eyes never leaving Jaeger’s face.

  ‘Draguta wants the queen. She wants her Followers. And we will take them to her in good order. Not beaten and abused and raped by you.’ Eadmund stepped closer to Jaeger, eyeing him, daring him to disagree. To fight him. The thrum of battle was still surging in his body, and there hadn’t been any action to sate it. He almost wanted Jaeger to try and thump him.

  Briggit slunk back to her throne and sat down, watching with interest.

  Eadmund Skalleson. Poor Eadmund Skalleson, she thought to herself.

  If only he knew...

  ‘Fine!’ Jaeger spat. ‘You deal with her, then! I’ll see how the men are doing preparing the ships. I want to get out of this shithole fast! Back to a real kingdom. My kingdom.’ And tugging his hand out of Eadmund’s, he strode away.

  ‘Thank you.’

  Eadmund turned to Briggit, watching as she sat, watching him. She reminded him of Draguta: sharp eyes trying to read his thoughts, wanting to dig inside his heart, his memories.

  There was nowhere to hide from a dreamer, he knew.

  He nodded. ‘I’ll watch you now. Jaeger won’t hurt you.’

  ‘And you?’

  ‘I’ve no interest in you or your people. I’m here to do a job. Once you’re in Hest with Draguta, I’ll be done. Then I’ll go home.’

  Briggit laughed, taking the goblet a slave offered her, struggling with the fetters. ‘Done?’ she mocked, sipping the wine. ‘Eadmund, you are so much cleverer than that. Done? When Draguta owns you? When she has plans for you?’ She sat forward, her dark robe sliding across her legs. ‘You really think you’ll ever go home? That she will let you?’

  The floor was made of marble. Cool. Slippery. Light.

  Eadmund thought of Oss.

  Dark, cold, weather-beaten Oss, and he felt his body sink, knowing that Briggit was right.

  Jael’s dream had left her in a daze. She could barely swallow as she walked through the hall, avoiding everyone’s eyes. She didn’t want to see her grandmother. Aleksander. Anyone.

  It was early, but she had to go somewhere. To be alone.

  To think.

  But what was there to think about?

  She shook her head as she walked, not knowing where she was going until she reached the bottom of the path. And looking up she saw Ayla sitting on Edela’s moon-watching bench.

  Jael opened the gate, walking towards her.

  Neither of them spoke at first. It was a cool morning, the sky exploding above them in red and pink stripes. The view was breathtaking from this high up on Edela’s little hill, though neither of them appeared to notice.

  Ayla glanced at Jael, unsure of how to begin. ‘I had a dream last night.’

  Jael kept staring straight ahead, her eyes on the roofs of Andala’s cottages, watching trails of smoke weaving through the thatch. ‘About?’

  ‘Briggit.’

  ‘I had a dream about Draguta.’

  ‘Oh.
’

  They knew then that they had seen the same thing; a palpable terror rendering them both silent for some time.

  ‘You can’t tell anyone,’ Jael said, at last. ‘Not yet. No one can know.’

  Ayla frowned. ‘Not even Edela?’

  ‘I...’ Jael sighed. ‘It’s hard to keep things from Edela.’

  ‘What Draguta did...’ Ayla shook her head, long brown curls bouncing across her shuddering back. ‘What she did... I...’

  Jael was just as speechless. ‘Why hasn’t she done that here? Why hasn’t she crushed us like that? Taken everything she wanted? Killed us all?’

  Ayla didn’t know. She gripped her hands, watching her silver wedding band gleam in the morning light, suddenly worried for Bruno, wondering how much time they had left. ‘Perhaps now she will? Perhaps she didn’t know how to before?’

  ‘She had a ring,’ Jael said. ‘Draguta was at the map table. She had another one of those circles, drawn around Helsabor on the map.’ Jael closed her eyes, trying to remember everything she had seen. ‘She painted around the wall with her blood, then she took the ring out of a box and put it on. She ran her finger through the line she’d made.’

  ‘And she made a hole in the wall.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘She can destroy a wall with her finger. She can conjure up dragons to burn us all.’ Ayla could barely think; panic consumed every part of her. ‘How can we leave the fort now?’

  ‘How can we stay?’

  Neither of them knew.

  ‘What else can she do with that ring?’ Ayla wondered.

  ‘Anything,’ Jael breathed. ‘Anything she wants.’

  ‘We can’t tell anyone,’ Ayla agreed, shaking her head. ‘Except Edela.’

  Jael lifted her eyes, watching the stripes of colour bleed across the sky.

  Wondering where Draguta would strike next.

  Much of Angard was new, but the new had been built around the old and as Morana, Else, and Dragmall ran through the back streets of the city, everything suddenly became narrower. Darker. Older. The meandering streets wound around the overhanging buildings like cobblestoned mazes and Else swallowed as she stumbled along behind Dragmall, worried that he didn’t know where he was going.

  But he did.

  ‘In here!’ Dragmall whispered hoarsely to Morana, heading down an alley that was barely big enough for him to push his shoulders through. ‘Hurry!’ And running, panting, he found the doorway.

  Iron strong. Locked.

  Fumbling in his leather satchel, he brought out an old, rusted key and shoved it into the lock, holding his breath as he jiggled and turned it.

  Morana held her own breath, listening to the shouts in the distance. Someone was running, being chased.

  She hoped it wasn’t them.

  Dragmall pushed open the door, cringing at the noisy creak of the ancient hinges. ‘Through here! Hurry!’ And pulling Morana, and then Else inside, he locked the door after them, suddenly aware of how dark it was.

  ‘Where are we?’ Else croaked, hoping there would be water somewhere. Her mouth was so dry that she was struggling to swallow. Everywhere stunk of smoke. Dust was in her eyes, her mouth.

  ‘Come on!’ There was no time for explanations. ‘Just a little further, I promise. Just a little further.’ And Dragmall disappeared into the darkness.

  Morana turned back to the door, listening, but she couldn’t hear the shouting now. No boots. Nothing. She squinted, looking more closely at the door, noticing the symbols carved around its frame.

  And smiling, she turned back around, hurrying after the quickly disappearing Else.

  Draguta had been walking around the map table, peering into her seeing circle, and she felt confident that at least Eadmund appeared to have everything under control. ‘We must celebrate!’ She no longer experienced hunger, no longer required food at all, but others did. ‘Bring Amma. And let’s have Evaine here too!’ She smiled at Meena, enjoying her obvious discomfort. ‘We can celebrate our victory together!’

  Neither Brill nor Meena moved, so Draguta glared from one to the other, and soon they were scuttling out of the hall, half-asleep, but determined not to incur her wrath.

  Draguta watched them go, her eyes drifting to the boxes on the table.

  All of her attention suddenly on the smallest one.

  ‘What a gift you are,’ she murmured, picking it up. And popping open the lid, she ran a finger over the black stone, feeling it vibrate with power. ‘A very precious gift, indeed.’

  Eadmund felt confused as he walked down the castle steps. Confused and ready for something to drink. Though it was dispersing, the dust cloud had dropped lower over the city, caressing the tops of buildings, and the ridged back of the black dragon; sinking low enough to cover the head of the enormous marble statue of a man in the middle of the square.

  Eadmund wondered who it was, though he didn’t really care.

  Jaeger strode towards him, having run his eye over Briggit’s impressive fleet of warships, happy that they would be travelling back to Hest in comfort, once they had loaded their prisoners on board, and scoured the castle looking for Wulf Halvardar’s gold. ‘It’s not your place to tell me what to do!’ he snarled, poking a finger at Eadmund’s face. ‘Not in front of my men. Not in front of my prisoner!’

  Eadmund blinked the spittle from his eyes. Jaeger always stood too close, and he had to fight the desire to step back, not wanting to give him any ground. ‘Your prisoner?’ he grinned, remembering Skorro and how crippled Jaeger had been by the smoke; by his injured ankles. He blinked, trying to concentrate, but his thoughts were drifting, floating like the cloud of dust. ‘She’s Draguta’s prisoner, and your only job is to get her to Hest in one piece so Draguta can decide what to do with her.’

  Berger came up to them, dragging a snarling Follower by the sleeve of his black robe. ‘Caught this one escaping. Hiding down an alley.’

  Eadmund frowned, glancing at Jaeger. ‘How did he get away? I thought you’d surrounded them? Trapped them in that circle?’

  Jaeger shrugged.

  Berger shook his head. ‘No idea. But he was running for it. Planning to hide, I suppose.’

  ‘Well, take your men, look everywhere. Down every street. In every building. Draguta wants all of the Followers. Every last one of them.’ He turned back to Jaeger whose attention was on the harbour. ‘We have to secure the wall.’

  Jaeger looked surprised. ‘There’s a fucking hole in it!’

  ‘Which needs to be defended. Angard belongs to Hest now. But only for now. If we don’t round up every last Follower, if we don’t secure the castle and the wall, they could easily turn things against us. You saw what Draguta was capable of, but we’ve no idea what trouble the Followers could stir up if they escape.’

  It was Jaeger’s turn to frown. The thought of displeasing Draguta disturbed him, and for the first time since he’d stepped inside the city, he felt his anger cool. ‘We need to be on the ships tomorrow. We can tidy things up today. It won’t be too hard. We’ve crushed them. Ripped the heart out of this place.’

  ‘No, it won’t be hard, though I’m sure Draguta will be watching nonetheless,’ Eadmund warned as Jaeger’s attention turned back to the castle. ‘I’m sure we can convince Briggit to help us find anyone who’s gone missing. It won’t take long.’

  ‘What is this place?’ Morana grumbled as they descended the narrow stone stairs. She placed her hand on the wall, surprised by how wet it felt. ‘Where are we?’

  Dragmall had already left the stairs behind, and he was heading down the dark tunnel when Morana caught up with him. ‘Centuries ago the volkas were under attack from a dangerous queen who wanted to rid Helsabor of our kind. A woman who feared the truth, so she tried to burn it. Bury it. Pretend it had never existed. The volkas dug tunnels, hid beneath the city. Hid their books. Their artifacts. Themselves.’

  It reminded Morana of the catacombs in Hest, only damper and darker, and not as pleasant smelling.
She couldn’t smell death anywhere, just the reek of sewage. The smell of a place that had never seen the sun.

  Else couldn’t stop shivering. The darkness was gripping her like a pair of evil hands, and catching up to Dragmall, she slipped her arm through his, squeezing tightly. ‘Will we be safe here? Does anyone know of this place?’

  They were at a crossroads of sort, tunnels leading left and right.

  ‘We go this way,’ Dragmall said. ‘And as to whether anyone will find us, I don’t know. Perhaps Briggit and her Followers have been here? From what I’ve heard, the volkas are no more.’ He felt sad, as though he was creeping into a tomb, which, in truth, it was. Some volkas had been buried here over the years. Some recently.

  Volkas and their hidden treasure; together for eternity.

  ‘But we don’t know what Briggit is capable of anymore, so we shall have to wait here and see,’ Dragmall sighed, hoping to sit down soon. He needed a moment to gather his thoughts. ‘We shall have to wait and see what Draguta will do to her.’

  ‘Is no one going to compliment the meal?’ Draguta wondered with surprise. ‘No one?’ She turned to Amma who sat to her right, picking at a lamb sausage. Blood was oozing from it, and she was trying not to vomit. ‘Are you unwell? Or is the food not up to the standard you are used to?’

  Amma opened her mouth, her eyes meeting Evaine’s.

  Evaine who sat on Draguta’s left, in between her and Meena.

  ‘I am not unwell, but I... my appetite has changed,’ Amma tried to explain. ‘Because of the... baby, I think. I cannot tolerate certain foods. Some things make me feel... ill.’

  Draguta’s eyes were wide with interest. ‘Well, I do seem to remember some such feeling myself from many years ago.’ She peered down at Amma’s plate, noting the bloody juice. ‘Perhaps you’d like something sweeter? I believe the cooks are baking cakes this morning. Isn’t that right, Meena? You saw that, didn’t you?’