by A. E. Rayne
And in the middle of that light was his mother.
Flicking his wrist, Eadmund threw the knife at the running Morana.
‘Aarrghh!’ she screamed, seeing Eskild before her as she tumbled through the air. ‘You bitch –’
And then she was down, the knife through her skull.
Eadmund held his breath, blinking, trying to see but the light faded quickly, and everything went dark.
‘Eydis!’ Ivaar was kneeling by his sister, Fyn on her other side, Jael hovering over them both. ‘Eydis?’
Eydis groaned, opening her eyes, confused.
‘What happened?’ Jael felt a sense of dread, heavy and dark. ‘Is it Eadmund?’
Eydis felt odd having Ivaar so close, and she quickly recoiled from him. ‘Eadmund... yes, he was in danger. I could feel it, as though it was all around him.’ She shook her head, trying to remember what had happened. ‘I couldn’t see him. He was hidden, in the darkness.’
Jael frowned, bending down, crouching on her heels. She hadn’t expected that. Not while he was bound to Draguta, who would surely be keeping him safe. ‘What happened to him?’ She swallowed, wanting to see Eydis relax, to know that Eadmund was alright.
Eventually, she did. ‘I didn’t see. Usually, I can see in my dreams, but it was too dark... I don’t know.’
Fyn looked worried, handing Eydis a water bag. ‘Here,’ he smiled. ‘Something to drink. Water.’ And he placed her hands around the mouth of the skin.
Eydis could hear his concern, remembering that Ontine was somewhere nearby, watching her being fussed over like a child. She took a quick drink and handed back the bag, wanting to get up. ‘I don’t know what happened,’ she insisted. ‘But Eadmund is not safe. I sense that. Not even with Draguta. While he is there, with all of them, he is not safe at all.’
Eadmund felt around in the dirt, on his knees, eventually finding Morana’s body. She was warm, but she wasn’t breathing. Else and Dragmall came with him, not wanting to lose him in the darkness.
Dragmall held out the sword as Eadmund rose to his feet. ‘It’s best if you finish things,’ he suggested haltingly. ‘To be sure.’
Eadmund took the sword and stuck out a boot, feeling where Morana’s neck was, knowing that, despite the darkness, it was safer to finish her now. And swinging his sword with both hands, he brought the blade down across Morana’s neck, chopping off her head.
He bent over, sobbing, remembering all that he had lost. All the voices in his head. The crying and the dying. The pain and the loss.
All that Morana had taken from him.
All that he could never get back.
Eadmund dropped to his knees, onto the dirt, his sword still in his hand, not wanting to lose it again.
Morana Gallas was dead.
But so was part of him.
And nothing he could do would ever bring it back.
16
Jael was distracted, not listening as Bram mumbled away beside her, showing her around the new defenses he had organised at the main gates. The stakes the barsk had sailed over had been doubled, and a new row, closer to the walls stood higher out of the ditch now, their lethal tips threatening anyone who dared come close. It would certainly keep out an army of men, he insisted.
Perhaps the dragur, Jael thought. The barsk.
But not Draguta with that ring.
‘Jael? Do you think it will be enough?’
Jael turned to Bram, blinking away the memory of that map table, and the screams and the rain and the crashing shock as the wall ruptured. ‘The barricades? I think so,’ she lied. ‘Anything trying to throw itself over the walls will have a painful time, I’m sure.’
Bram thought he detected a lack of confidence in Jael’s voice. She had a lot on her mind, he could see. ‘I wish I was coming with you,’ he said, walking her back through the gates.
‘You do?’
Bram nodded. ‘It would be some way to go, wouldn’t it? Likely to impress Vidar, a battle like that.’ He sighed. ‘Everyone around me is dropping dead. Eirik, Odda, Morac... Runa. My friends. My family.’ He stopped, turning as someone called his name. ‘Wouldn’t be such a bad way to go.’
Two men were motioning Bram over to a gate tower, but Jael grabbed his arm. ‘I’m sure Fyn wouldn’t agree,’ she said sharply. ‘And you may think you’ve lost everyone, Bram Svanter, but you’ve only just found him, and he deserves a father. After all he went through with Morac? After losing his mother? Fyn deserves a father, so I hope you’ll be waiting here when I bring him back to you!’ And feeling herself getting more irritable by the moment, Jael dropped Bram’s arm and strode away.
Bram blinked, watching her go.
‘What did you say to Bram?’ Thorgils asked, looking at his gob-smacked uncle as he hefted another barrel of ale onto a cart. ‘He still hasn’t shut his mouth!’ He laughed, seeing the fire in Jael’s eyes. ‘Need some more sleep, do we?’
Jael glared at him. ‘What I need is for you to talk less and lift more. Get moving, or you’ll be working into the night!’ And leaving behind a second open-mouthed Svanter, Jael headed in the direction of Aleksander, realising that he was possibly the only person who stood a chance of calming her down.
They left Morana’s body inside the catacombs, Dragmall locking the door, stuffing the key inside his leather satchel.
‘Why didn’t you lock yourselves in?’ Eadmund wondered, turning to Dragmall as they stood in the dark alley. ‘If you had the key, why didn’t you lock the door?’
Else had been wondering the same thing, though she was sure that Dragmall had locked the door.
‘I knew your mother, Eadmund,’ Dragmall said sadly. ‘Our families were friends for many years. I knew her as a girl, before she left to marry your father.’
Eadmund blinked.
‘I am a dreamer. A volka and a dreamer. I saw some things, heard some more. I unlocked it when I knew you were coming.’
Else blinked.
‘But you were with Morana.’ Eadmund was confused. ‘You helped her escape Hest.’
‘At the time, I believed it was the better choice to make. Either we were going to be killed by Morana or Draguta was going to do it. In the end, one of them would triumph. One evil would defeat the other. I simply made what I hoped was the right choice.’ He pulled Else close. ‘We both did.’ Dragmall tried to see anything in Eadmund’s eyes that would give him a clue as to what he would do with them.
A clue as to what he should do about Eadmund.
‘And now? You wish to stay here?’ They weren’t Followers, Eadmund told himself. Draguta required him to bring back all the Followers.
They weren’t Followers.
Dragmall looked hesitant. ‘For now, yes, I think so.’
‘Then stay,’ Eadmund said, motioning for them to walk with him. ‘Stay here.’ Smoke drifted towards them, and he thought of the destruction of the city; the totality of Briggit’s defeat. ‘Though, I’m not sure how safe you’ll be, or what will come next. It will be an uncertain time.’
Dragmall shrugged. ‘Well, I suspect much of that will be up to you.’
‘What do you mean?’
Dragmall felt exposed. Though the alley was dark with shadows and those houses still standing appeared deserted, he suspected that the Angardians were merely hiding, waiting until they could be assured of their safety.
He had symbol stones in his leather satchel, but Draguta would likely see through them. What did it matter, he supposed? Now? When everything had been blown apart. ‘You are meant for something,’ Dragmall said softly. ‘The dreamers knew it. The volkas knew it too. They did not agree on much, but that is where they came together.’
Eadmund froze. ‘Meant for what?’
‘There is a shield, made hundreds of years ago, right here in Angard. Commissioned by the gods, both old and new. For you.’
‘A shield? For what? Why?’ Eadmund felt confused, disturbed, memories stirring; wondering if Draguta was watching.
Dragmall wondered the same thing. ‘To defeat our greatest enemy. Both you and Jael. Together. She has her sword. And for you, the Shield of Esk.’
‘Esk?’
‘Oh yes, you are Esk’s son. That God of War is your forbear on your mother’s side. You are his as much as Jael is Furia’s daughter. When the gods learned of what would come, they realised that only humans could save us all. Raemus’ Book of Darkness was filled with spells they had no power to stop, so they chose you, you and Jael. It was in their plans, you see, for you to come together.’
Eadmund swallowed, not wanting to think about Jael. About what Draguta wanted him to do to her. Draguta who he had no choice but to please.‘I need to get back to the castle,’ he muttered, wanting to ignore everything Dragmall had said; it sounded similar to something Jael had told him. ‘I have to check on Briggit. We have to leave. You stay, but I have to leave.’
‘Eadmund!’ Dragmall hurried Else along the narrow street after the quickly disappearing king. ‘Wait!’ Eadmund was a fast walker, and he panted as he tried to catch him. ‘The shield!’
Eventually, Eadmund stopped, convinced that Dragmall would keep following him if he didn’t, and he didn’t want to get the old man in trouble with Draguta. ‘I can’t help you. This shield? I don’t know where it is, and even if I did, what could I do with it? Draguta would destroy it. She has no wish to be defeated, and I’ve no wish to defeat her!’ he insisted, conscious of the stabbing pain in his heart that betrayed his lie. ‘I won’t use it against her. I can’t.’ Eadmund wanted to leave. Quickly. ‘Don’t do anything foolish, Dragmall. I’m letting you both go. You helped me. I’m letting you go, so go. Now! Please.’
Dragmall nodded. ‘Of course. I understand. I do. We will find our own way now, thank you.’ He could see a familiar street disappearing around the corner up ahead, and he took Else’s hand. ‘I wish you luck, Eadmund, whichever path you choose to take. Your mother was a good woman. I was very sad to hear about what happened to her.’ And hurrying Else away, he left Eadmund standing alone in the shadows, Morana’s blood splattered over his boots, thoughts of Draguta swirling around his head.
And the shield.
He blinked, shutting it all away as he strode down the street, wanting to get back to Briggit.
Amma was full of questions that Meena didn’t want to answer.
‘But what will she do with the queen?’ Amma wondered as they walked behind the tailor and his long train of servants who were taking armloads of fabric samples to the castle. ‘Briggit Halvardar? Will Draguta kill her? Keep her prisoner?’
Meena shrugged, knowing that it wasn’t her place to comment either way.
‘Or Eadmund? What does she want with Eadmund? What use is he when she has Jaeger?’
Meena was feeling wistful for the time when Amma had been too timid to speak at all. Though, she supposed, at least it filled her mind with something other than thoughts of the ring.
She gulped as thoughts of the ring suddenly filled her mind.
Jael Furyck too.
‘We have to wait,’ Meena mumbled, scratching her head. ‘Until they arrive. Then we will know.’
Amma had dreamed of Axl, and though she wasn’t a dreamer, she had seen him preparing to leave Andala. It felt as though he was always preparing to leave for somewhere. But now she knew that he was coming to Hest.
To defeat Draguta. Jaeger. The Book of Darkness.
And she felt a lift because of it. If she could just hold on...
If she could just survive...
She glanced at Meena. ‘The Dragos’ are in Andala, you know. Those who still live. Berard and Karsten. Queen Bayla. Karsten’s wife.’ She frowned, never having found any reason to like Nicolene. ‘They hope to return. To defeat Jaeger. To take back the throne.’
Meena shivered, thinking about Berard, remembering what Jael Furyck had said about him waiting for her. But if she didn’t retrieve that ring, there was no chance. No chance that she would ever see him again.
Karsten was checking through his armour, bending his new leather arm guards. They were stiff, and from experience he knew that they would need some wearing in before they felt part of him. He hoped he wouldn’t have to use them until they reached Hest, though that was unlikely.
Berard was frowning at him.
‘You know I’m right,’ Karsten insisted. ‘You do. Otherwise, you’d be sorting your armour next to me.’ Kai and Eron were crawling all over him, and his brother was scowling at him from a bed, and Nicolene was standing by the door watching him. Bayla had taken Haegen’s children for a walk, trying to stop herself from fretting, though if they were there, Karsten was sure they’d all be watching him too. He was starting to agree with Bayla.
They needed more room.
‘You’re right,’ Berard admitted, dropping to the floor, leaning his back against the bed. His stump was throbbing, reminding him of just how right Karsten was. It was his mind that felt ready for a fight, but his body kept trying to warn him that he was not ready. Not to face Jaeger, who would have only grown stronger since they were in Hest.
Karsten smiled triumphantly. ‘Good! And don’t think you won’t get some action here.’ He glanced at Nicolene, who looked worried by the thought of that. ‘You need to lock up this place every night as though you’re going to war. Wood. Weapons. Get your tinderbox out. Barricade the door. Keep the fire going.’
Now Nicolene was frowning. ‘Boys, come away from your father,’ she scolded, grabbing Kai’s hand. ‘Let’s go and see the sun before we all die from the gloom in here!’ And with a pointed look at her husband, she ushered her sons outside.
Karsten laughed. ‘Not sure which is the most daunting, going to face Draguta, or being locked up in here with Bayla and Nicolene and five children!’
Berard was wondering the same thing. ‘Ulf’s going to stay.’
‘Is he?’ Karsten was surprised by that. Surprised but pleased.
‘Well, with you gone, there’ll be a bed free, and Bayla insisted. I think she’d feel safer with two more arms.’ He grinned, trying to lighten the mood.
‘Poor Ulf,’ Karsten laughed. ‘Bayla has him wrapped around her finger now. He’ll never be free!’
‘Well, I’m glad,’ Berard said. ‘We need all the help we can get with the bad luck we’ve had lately.’
‘Mmmm,’ Karsten agreed. ‘But here’s where our luck is about to change. Don’t you feel it? The winds are blowing, Brother, and I feel a change coming.’
‘We’re all going to die!’
Aleksander laughed. They had walked away from the fort until they were alone, and Jael had finally felt free to explode in a mess of fears and worries, her shoulders sinking with every step. ‘Maybe, but we’ll die trying, don’t worry.’
‘Don’t worry?’ Jael couldn’t tell him what might be coming, but she needed to give him some kind of warning. ‘It’s worse than you think, you know, what Draguta is doing. What she’s capable of.’
Aleksander’s good mood slid away. ‘What have you seen?’
‘Enough to know that we’re all going to die!’
‘Jael.’ And stopping her, Aleksander gripped her arms, trying to get her attention. Her eyes were darting all over the road, not stopping anywhere near his face. ‘Say what you need to. I can handle it. Say anything you like. You’ve always been able to.’ He smiled, feeling her start to relax.
She shook off his hands, rubbing her eyes. ‘I need more sleep. Fewer dreams, more sleep.’
‘The gods didn’t choose you because they thought you’d give up before we even began,’ Aleksander tried. ‘They chose you because they knew you’d fight. They saw who you’d become, and they made you full of fire, Jael Furyck. Ready for war.’ He felt a deep sadness as memories washed over him. ‘I believe in you,’ he said. ‘So turn off all the voices in your head. Shut them all out. Don’t listen to any of them. Put one foot in front of the other. That’s it. Leave everything else alone.’
Jael frowned.
‘You can’t look back. What has happened is done. What is coming will come. And you’ll have all of us, right there beside you. All of us. Fighting with you. We’ll never stop. We’ll never let you down. You’re not alone, Jael. You’ve never been alone.’
Jael pushed herself forward, against his chest, encouraging him to wrap his arms around her. ‘You’ve gotten very good at this over the years,’ she murmured into his tunic. ‘Though I’m not sure Hanna will be so enamoured with you fixing me once you’re married.’
Jael felt Aleksander freeze, and she laughed, staying right where she was, enjoying for one moment the feeling of being safe.
Soon, she knew, it would all change.
By nightfall, Eadmund felt confident that all of the Followers had been found. Well, not confident, he supposed. It was impossible to know what those dreamers could do to hide themselves, but he was, at least, convinced that he had done everything he could to find them. The ships he was taking back to Draguta were stuffed from prow to stern with Wulf Halvardar’s precious chests of gold, and now those ships were being guarded by a swathe of almost-sober men, and Eadmund had one more night to endure in Briggit’s castle before they set sail for Hest.
He was growing more and more uncomfortable in the company of dreamers. Dreamers and volkas who all appeared to know more about him than he ever had.
Briggit had been brought into the hall for supper, and though the smell of roast salmon had her lips moist with hunger, she found herself more interested in Eadmund Skalleson, who seemed both sad and angry, and very, very distant. ‘It must be hard for you,’ she cooed, ‘knowing that soon you will have to kill your wife.’
Eadmund crunched into a carrot, not caring to hear what Briggit thought about anything. ‘It must be hard for you,’ he countered, ‘knowing that soon Draguta will kill all of your Followers. And then you.’
Briggit sat alone at the high table.