by A. E. Rayne
Meena didn’t want to be brought into the conversation. She didn’t want to be forced to eat with Draguta at all, convinced that she was only placing her near Evaine and Amma to tease and torture her. ‘I think so,’ she mumbled, gobbling down a boiled egg. Having been momentarily assured of her safety, her appetite had returned, and she was eating as much as she could of the bounteous spread, not sure when she would be invited to eat again.
‘Well, there you are, cake it is!’ Draguta smiled, placing a hand on Amma’s belly. The girl was wearing a new lilac dress, though it didn’t appear to have been adequately sized as it was already straining across her breasts, Draguta noted with displeasure. ‘Cake, and then, I think, a return to the tailor’s.’
Amma flinched, afraid to move at all, though she very much wanted to. Draguta’s hand felt like ice. She nodded, her bottom lip wobbling. ‘Cake would be nice.’
Draguta laughed. ‘What a nervous little thing you are. Not like Evaine over there, eating as though all the food in Hest was about to spoil!’
Evaine scowled, not wanting to be made fun of. Lifting her head, she eyed Draguta. ‘I’ve had no appetite since my father’s death. It was very upsetting what Eadmund –’ She stopped herself, not wanting to go on.
Amma’s eyes were suddenly alert.
‘What Eadmund did?’ Draguta mused. ‘What did you expect him to do? Let Morac live when he had taken his own father’s life? You would have had no respect for a man that weak. No respect for a king who let another man rule him. No, Eadmund is the perfect sort of king. Unlike Jaeger,’ she added, turning back to Amma who was not as pleasing to look at but far more pleasing to talk to than Evaine. ‘But we will work on Jaeger together, won’t we? Stop those little impulses he has. Calm down all that fire. There is no need for it now, is there? Not when he has us.’
Amma didn’t want to talk about Jaeger. She didn’t want to think about the baby being Jaeger’s or being Jaeger’s wife. Forcing herself to smile, she reached for her cup, sipping the warm milk, trying not to vomit.
Jael and Ayla agreed to meet again at Edela’s in the afternoon once Jael had explained their dreams to her grandmother. Though, Jael wondered, perhaps Edela had already seen it herself? She hoped not. That sort of nightmare was nothing her grandmother needed to witness first hand.
Trudging back to the square, Jael’s mind wandered to breakfast, though she had little appetite after watching Draguta decimate Angard. She wasn’t looking where she was going, and she walked straight into Karsten. He stumbled backwards, not having been looking where he was going himself, spilling the basket of apples he was taking back to the cottage for the children.
‘Sorry!’ Jael exclaimed, shaking her head. ‘I must have been walking with my eyes closed.’
Karsten shrugged it off. ‘Guess it’s the curse of being a dreamer.’ He dropped to the ground, picking up the rolling apples, Jael bending down to help him.
She frowned suddenly, staring at him. ‘Who is Meena?’
Karsten looked surprised. ‘Meena? Why?’
‘I had a dream about Hest. She was in it. Red hair. Big eyes. Shaking all over.’
Karsten laughed as he stood. ‘Sounds about right. She’s a... mystery that one. Morana Gallas’ niece. Varna’s daughter.’
‘Oh.’
‘And Jaeger’s plaything, much to Berard’s annoyance.’
‘Berard?’
‘Mmmm, she had the Book of Darkness. Her and Berard... they took it together. They were going to leave with Hanna when Morana caught them. Meena dropped the book. Jaeger took off Berard’s arm.’
‘Oh.’
‘She stayed behind.’ Karsten frowned. ‘I don’t know why. To help? Berard wanted her to come. It’s part of why he wants to go to Hest. To save Meena.’ He saw the puzzlement in Jael’s eyes. ‘He loves her.’
And suddenly it felt as though the clouds had parted and for the first time all morning, Jael could breathe.
10
The crypt had nothing in it that would light a torch, and though Dragmall had a tinderbox in his satchel, he was reluctant to do anything to attract attention. So they sat in the dark and the cold and the silence.
All day long.
Morana would have usually grumbled about the confinement. She would have stood up and stalked around the small crypt. She would have griped and moaned and mocked Dragmall and his volkas for the poverty of their hidden city beneath Angard; the bleak, miserable darkness of it all. But she sat still and quiet on the dirt floor, feeling the damp seep through her cloak, lying her head back against an unforgiving stone wall, though at least in here, away from the tunnels there was less of a stink.
She couldn’t stop thinking about Briggit’s circle. The magic in that circle was like nothing she had ever felt. All those Followers had been united, led by Briggit, who was a powerful dreamer, that much was obvious. It could have held Draguta out, and certainly Eadmund and Jaeger and the Hestian army, so why had she panicked, thinking it would break? Why had she broken it?
Why had she run?
Now she would be hunted by everyone. No Follower would welcome her. They would all shun her. And Draguta would not rest until she had caught and killed her.
Or imprisoned her again.
Morana dropped her head to her knees, feeling all the air leave her chest. The only allies she had were old and terrified. Pitiful creatures. And though Dragmall had been able to secret them away in here, she wondered how long they could last. There was no food. No water. No light.
A rat scurried across the dirt floor, chasing another. And another.
Else squealed, scrambling to her feet, Dragmall hurrying to comfort her.
But Morana didn’t even lift her head.
Edela felt well-rested, though she could tell that Jael wasn’t, but her uptight granddaughter didn’t say a word until Biddy and Eydis had left with the puppies.
Biddy had not planned on taking Eydis with her to meet Entorp. They were going to be making salves, and she didn’t imagine that Eydis would be very enamoured with that, but she could tell that Jael wanted to speak to Edela alone, so she had dragged Eydis along.
And now Edela and Jael were alone in the cottage, and Jael didn’t know how to begin.
Part of her hoped that her grandmother would just read her mind.
She didn’t.
‘Shall we go for a walk?’ Edela suggested, moving to the edge of her chair. ‘Get some air? Maybe that would help?’
‘No.’ Jael leaned forward, gripping a cup of fennel tea that was still too hot to drink. She placed it on the floorboards and sighed. ‘I had a dream.’ She shook her head. ‘It didn’t feel like it was a dream. I was there, experiencing it. Ayla had the dream, too, in a different way.’
Edela shivered, wondering what was coming; sensing that whatever it was would not be good. ‘What about?’
So Jael told her about the dragons and Eadmund; the wall and the ring; Briggit Halvardar and her circle; Meena Gallas.
Edela’s forehead furrowed into deeper and deeper rows, cold hands clenched in her lap. ‘I see,’ she said when Jael was done. ‘I see.’
She didn’t see.
She couldn’t breathe.
‘We are in such danger,’ Jael said, feeling Toothpick leaning against her leg. ‘The gods had this sword made for me, but what can I possibly do with it now? A sword against Draguta?’ She shook her head. ‘A sword that has no power anymore, against a ring like that?’
It had seemed impossible before, Edela thought. Almost impossible, but they had still been determined to destroy Draguta and the book; to rescue Amma and Sigmund; to free Eadmund.
And now?
‘We have to find a way to stop Draguta before we leave to meet her,’ Jael insisted, sensing that her grandmother had frozen. ‘And I think I know something we could try.’
Draguta had freed Meena to spend time with Amma, insisting that she show her the coves where she could swim if she chose not to bathe in the castle. Draguta had
smiled as Meena reddened before her, reminded of how she had manipulated her, sending her here, there, and everywhere like an eager puppy.
A puppy with no mind of its own.
Amma appeared relieved to have someone to talk to as they walked, but Meena couldn’t think of what to say to her. She knew that Draguta had gone to her chamber, perhaps taking to her bed, but she could just as easily be watching, listening to every word they said.
Which wasn’t something that occurred to Amma. ‘When will Jaeger return? Will he return?’
Meena could hear the desperation in her voice, and she felt sorry for the girl, wondering what Jaeger would do to his wife when he did return, though she didn’t have to wonder for long. ‘He will return soon. They are in Angard. Helsabor. Draguta wants their ships and their queen. They will not delay. Jaeger and Eadmund will be back soon.’
Amma was looking forward to seeing Eadmund, to see if she could talk to him about Jael. About herself. About whether he could help her escape.
Meena blinked, surprised that she could hear Amma’s thoughts so clearly. Sighing, she worried if, in fact, it was just Draguta again, playing games with her. ‘Eadmund is Draguta’s,’ she said anyway. ‘He will not go against her. He will not help you. He is Draguta’s.’ She wanted to warn Amma away. It would do her no good to get herself in trouble with Jaeger or Draguta. No good at all.
The gravel road leading towards the coves suddenly steepened, and Amma stopped, turning to Meena. ‘Who are you? Jaeger’s woman? Draguta’s servant? I don’t know who you are, or why you’re here. Why you stay? You don’t appear to want to be here any more than I do.’
Meena wanted to tap her head as she dropped it forward, hiding her face beneath her hair. ‘I’m nobody,’ she mumbled. ‘Just nobody.’ And looking up at Amma’s worried face, she tried to smile. ‘But you are not. You are a queen now. And that will keep you safe. Being a good queen, doing what Draguta wants. And Jaeger.’ Turning away, she plodded onwards, feeling a slight breeze ruffle her hair.
Amma hurried to catch up with her. ‘Will you help me, then? We could help each other.’ She tried to get Meena’s attention, but Meena refused to even look her way. She was working hard to clear her mind of anything to do with Amma, or Eadmund Skalleson, or Berard.
Especially Berard.
Jael hadn’t known where to take Berard, so, in the end, they had walked to the cove, to Sea Bear, sitting in the battered wooden house. There had been no one on the beach, which didn’t surprise Jael. They were all busy in the fort, focused on preparing weapons and supplies. On getting their horses ready. And themselves.
But as for ships?
They couldn’t risk taking the ships.
Though Jael knew that now they couldn’t risk anything at all.
Not without help.
‘No, no, no!’ Berard was on his feet, backing away, whacking his head on the pole hanging down from the hinged flap in the roof of the house.
Jael remembered when they had made the houses for the attack on Berard and his brothers. And now, here they sat, allies. Hopefully, more than allies. Hopefully, two people who had the power to save a lot of lives.
‘Meena...’ Berard began, staring down at Jael with frantic eyes. ‘She is not...’ He stopped himself, remembering Meena slitting Egil’s throat, taking the Book of Darkness, charging down the stairs with it.
She had stayed behind when she could have left.
She was stronger than he’d ever realised. Stronger than him. ‘What would she have to do?’ he sighed, sensing that he had little choice but to go along with Jael.
The wind was strong, and Jael could hear it whistling through the holes in the walls. ‘The people we love are in danger. A danger so grave that unless some of us do brave things, all of us will die.’
Berard nodded. ‘I know. It’s just that Meena is quite timid. Nervous. I’m not sure she will respond well to you. And Draguta...’ He didn’t know Draguta, but if she was worse than Morana, he could only imagine what she would do to Meena if she caught her.
‘Draguta has hurt a lot of people, and if Meena doesn’t help us, she will hurt a lot more,’ Jael insisted.
Berard frowned, and digging into his pouch, he pulled out a leather strap with a few strands of red hair attached to it; not quite a lock, more of a matted knot. ‘I took the hair from her chamber,’ he admitted, cheeks reddening. ‘If it will help?’
Jael smiled. ‘I hope so. It should certainly help me get to Meena in her dreams. Hopefully, what happened in Angard will make her want to act. I can’t imagine that she wants to stay in Hest with Draguta and Jaeger.’
Berard saw flashes of Meena, giddy with happiness, moving into Jaeger’s chamber.
He hoped that Jael was right.
Briggit studied Eadmund Skalleson with interest.
Her visions of him over the years had been of a bumbling drunk, empty-headed and ale-addled, stumbling from one woman’s bed to the next. An embarrassing stone anchor around his father’s neck. And yet, here he was, sitting next to her at the high table, sober and serious, and totally in command of everyone, including Jaeger Dragos, it seemed. Briggit smiled, grateful that she’d not had to endure that revolting man writhing all over her, shoving himself inside her as though he was doing her a great favour. ‘More wine?’ she asked pleasantly, determined to act like the queen she no longer was. Wanting to believe that she still had the power to order everyone about.
Jaeger laughed. ‘Was that a request?’ He could see very well how confused Briggit appeared. He wondered what plans Draguta had for her. What she would do to her once she was in Hest. It would be such a shame for a woman like that to go to waste, tossed on Draguta’s scrap heap with the rest of the Followers.
The sound of Jaeger’s voice made Briggit want to vomit. She was pleased that Eadmund had positioned himself in between them. ‘I have no desire for wine, I was merely enquiring whether you wanted any more.’ The Followers had been removed from the hall now, dragged onto the ships, and Briggit’s attention returned to Sabine and Lillith, wondering if she would ever see them again. She didn’t want to sit around eating and drinking as though they were holding a celebratory feast. Not when so much was uncertain. When so much was yet to be played out.
She wanted to head for her bed. She needed to find a dream, though looking down at her fetters, she realised that it was likely impossible now.
Eadmund stood with a weary groan. ‘I’ll check on the men. See how they’re coming along down at the harbour. We need to be ready to depart in the morning.’
‘So soon?’ Briggit was surprised, sitting up straighter, her eyes sharp. ‘You think you can conquer my kingdom in a day and then leave?’
‘I think we’ve conquered your city, and now the rest of our army is conquering your kingdom.’ Eadmund frowned, not liking the sound of that. The Hestians were not his. Not his army. He didn’t want to become one of them. He had to hold onto who he was.
He couldn’t let that go.
‘Well, I wish them luck!’ Briggit glowered. ‘The Helsaborans will not be defeated so easily.’
‘I’m sure Draguta will intervene if she sees any problems,’ Jaeger mumbled between mouthfuls of bacon-wrapped chicken. He was already planning on taking Briggit’s cooks back to Hest as well. The food easily surpassed anything he’d eaten before; prepared under great duress too. He reached for his wine which was excellent, wanting to remember to send some men down to the cellars to clear it out, determined to find room on board for as many barrels as would fit. ‘She means for Helsabor to be in Dragos hands now. And as you’ve just seen, she has every tool at her disposal to make that happen.’
Eadmund walked away from the table, wondering at the wisdom of leaving Jaeger behind with Briggit. ‘Why don’t you head up to the ramparts?’ he suggested, turning back around. ‘See what else we need to do before nightfall. You’ll have a good view from up there.’
Jaeger frowned. ‘And why would I want to do that?’
‘Because it would please Draguta, of course, unless you plan to rule with only your cock. You’ll find yourself very busy in bed, but you’ll have a kingdom in ruins.’
Briggit smirked, leaning forward to stare at Jaeger who ducked his head, muttering under his breath, not wanting to do anything Eadmund said, but very aware of how right he was. Draguta wanted a king who was a strong leader. A man in control. In charge. She would not be pleased to see him sitting around, eating and drinking as though all the work was done. So, pushing himself away from the table, he stood, smiling at Briggit and ignoring Eadmund. ‘I’ll check on the ships. I want to make sure they’re filled with gold. It would be a shame to have to leave any behind!’ And throwing back the last of his wine, he headed out of the hall, determined to act like the king Draguta wanted him to be.
Gant watched Axl with mixed feelings. He was his king, and sometimes he felt like his son. Either way, he wanted to protect him and keep him safe, as he had kept Ranuf safe for all those years.
Axl was standing outside the armourer’s hut, trying on his new helmet.
His new mail.
He looked older, Gant thought, watching him from a distance. Bigger. His arms had grown, becoming stronger, thicker from all his training, which was why he needed new armour. But he was still a boy in terms of experience, and Gant was letting him leave for the biggest battle any of them would ever face.
Without him.
‘Your turn next?’ Aleksander grinned, slapping him on the back. ‘New helmet? New arm guards? I think we’ll all need new arm guards after the barsk chewed through them!’ He felt a familiar mix of excitement and nerves brewing, sensing that they were getting closer to leaving. At least he tried to tell himself that was what it was.
Gant frowned. ‘I’m not coming.’
‘What?’
‘I thought Jael would have told you. I’m not coming.’
Aleksander didn’t know what to say. He suddenly felt ten-years-old again.