Vale of the Gods

by A. E. Rayne

  Eadmund had the sense that dawn was coming. The chamber was dark, but his body had developed a familiar rhythm recently, and he was wide awake, anticipating the sun’s rise.

  He wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

  Briggit sounded asleep. He hoped she was. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts. The remnants of his dream were still lingering, and Eadmund felt sad, wanting to see his parents’ faces again, to hear his mother’s voice as she told him to find the shield. But Draguta’s voice was there too, warning him away.

  What need did he have for a shield? A shield from her?

  He was her shield now.

  Her shield against Jael, and all those who wanted to hurt her.

  Eadmund rubbed his temples, desperate to be freed from his warring thoughts; the constant battle of them as they fought each other, trying to claim him. But, Eadmund realised, rolling onto his side, watching Briggit stir.

  There was no fight.

  Draguta had already won.

  Evaine was so furious at being woken before dawn that she wanted to scream, but she was far too tired to even open her mouth as she traipsed towards the winding gardens after Meena.

  Meena had no desire to spend any time with Evaine, and she didn’t speak either. And so, as the sun rose and the morning dew slowly evaporated in the cool light of day, Meena dug in the earth, occasionally mumbling a small chant as she sliced through a stalk and carefully laid the cutting in her basket.

  Evaine glared at her, though she was too bored to even complain as she watched her cousin, not offering her help at all. Eventually, she stood, stretching her back, eager for some breakfast. ‘I shall go to the markets. What do you need from there?’

  Meena was halfway through a chant, and she didn’t appreciate the interruption. ‘Nothing,’ she muttered. ‘Not today.’

  Evaine frowned. ‘Nothing?’

  Meena didn’t reply, but she waited to ensure that Evaine wasn’t going to say any more, and finally satisfied, she started her chant again.

  ‘But how long will this take?’ Evaine grumbled, enjoying the perturbed look on her cousin’s ugly face. ‘How long?’

  Now Meena was mad. ‘You need to be quiet!’ she hissed. ‘Draguta will not be pleased to see what you’re doing. She will see, you know. She is always watching. And listening. She will hear you talking when I’m supposed to be chanting and then how will you get Eadmund back? Without Draguta helping you, how will you trap him again?’ Meena shook and trembled, fighting the urge to push Evaine over. She squeezed her hand around the haft of the knife and turned back to the row of flowers. ‘You will be quiet,’ she almost growled, her eyes on the bright-blue head of the cornflower she had been attempting to cut. And grasping its stem, she closed her eyes, wishing Evaine away.

  Gant smiled, pleased to see Jael coming towards him, though when she stopped by his table, he could tell that something was wrong. Her eyes were darting around the hall, barely focusing on him at all. ‘Bad dreams?’ he wondered as she took a seat opposite him.

  ‘Odd dreams.’

  Gant’s eyebrows were up. ‘About?’

  ‘I saw a battle. Heard a battle,’ Jael frowned, shaking her head as he offered her a plate of smoked eel. ‘I think it was our battle. The battle.’

  ‘But you couldn’t see it?’

  ‘No, but I saw where it was.’

  Gant waited for her to go on, his knife in mid-air.

  ‘The Vale of the Gods.’

  That was a surprise.

  ‘There were Followers surrounding the Tree of Agrayal. A hundred or more.’

  ‘Followers?’ Gant’s knife remained in mid-air, the wedge of cheese before him uncut. ‘And who else?’

  ‘I saw Draguta. She was with them in a circle, but I couldn’t see anyone else. It was loud, though. I could hear a battle.’

  ‘At the Vale of the Gods?’

  Jael nodded.

  Gant shook his head. ‘That is some place. Perhaps the perfect place. But it won’t be easy to get to. Not with the catapults.’

  ‘No, but we’ll need them.’

  ‘You will. Especially if Draguta has all those Followers on her side.’

  ‘Mmmm.’

  They sat in silence, both of them trying to recall their visit to the vale years ago, when they had gone with Ranuf and Aleksander. They had stood on a mountaintop, looking down into the vast arena, imagining the battles that had taken place over the centuries between the Oster and Tuuran gods.

  The Vale of the Gods was a place of blood and magic and death.

  And sacrifice.

  Jael remembered the sound of her own voice, the painful cry that had the hairs on her arms standing on end as it had risen above the invisible fray.

  Wondering what had happened.

  Briggit had eyes that made Eadmund squirm.

  It was as though she was studying him naked. He tried to avoid looking anywhere near her face, not wanting her to see his discomfort, knowing that it was all part of her game. She couldn’t hurt him with spells, couldn’t do anything with her hands, so she was using her eyes, teasing him, unsettling him.

  ‘What are we waiting for?’ Briggit wondered irritably. Eadmund had dragged her down to the hall, leaving her sitting alone at the high table while he instructed his men on the final preparations before their departure. She had barely slept, unused to sleeping by herself, worrying about Sabine and Lillith who were sailing to Hest with Jaeger Dragos for company.

  The thought of that had put her in a foul mood.

  ‘We’re waiting for me. I want to ensure that we’ve thought of everything. I imagine you have. I imagine you’re not sitting there as happy to be a prisoner as you’re pretending to be. No doubt you’ve got plans, ideas about what you’ll do. Ways to escape. Ways to hurt Draguta and retake your kingdom. To claim victory over hers,’ Eadmund said sharply, walking towards the table. ‘And it’s my job to anticipate every problem you’re going to cause.’

  Briggit burst out laughing, her eyes aflame with irritation. She was hungry and growing impatient for her breakfast. ‘How pathetic you are, Eadmund. Did you ever think it would come to this? Finally made a king. Finally worthy of being the king your father always wanted, yet now you’re a slave, just as all your forbears were. Draguta Teros’ slave!’

  ‘Says the queen in fetters.’

  ‘Yes, but only my hands are imprisoned. Only my hands are Draguta’s. You are lost to her! Bound to her forever. Every single part of you. You will never be free!’

  ‘And you?’ Eadmund wasn’t sure if he was more incensed or troubled. He leaned over, hands splayed on the table, glaring at Briggit. ‘How will you be free?’

  ‘Ha! You think I should make it easy for you? But surely if you figure it out on your own, you’ll earn Draguta’s praise? Won’t that be worth it, Eadmund? Or maybe you’re trying to please your wife too? Perhaps you’ll try and find the shield? Go against Draguta? Make your wife happy?’

  Eadmund almost stumbled backwards, confused.

  ‘Oh, you think I’m reading your mind?’ Briggit smiled. ‘Maybe these fetters don’t work at all? Perhaps Draguta is already failing to imprison me and my power?’

  Eadmund wasn’t sure what Briggit was doing to him, but he didn’t want to waste his time trying to find out. He wanted to leave. He needed to get back to Hest to see his son. He tried to focus on Sigmund. Not Evaine. Not Draguta.

  Not Jael.

  ‘But you won’t find the shield here,’ Briggit mused, not about to let him escape from the hook she had so carefully baited. ‘You won’t find the shield, if that’s why you’re waiting. That shield is hidden somewhere it will never be found!’

  Dragmall had to pull Else towards the castle.

  She didn’t want to go near it.

  ‘The Followers have all gone,’ Dragmall said encouragingly. ‘All of them. We know that.’

  ‘Do we?’ Else was surprised. ‘Do we know that?’

  Dragmall smiled. ‘I do, yes. Only Brig
git remains, and she is shackled, waiting to sail back to Hest with Eadmund. I saw it in my dreams. Her sight is blocked by Draguta’s symbols, so she is no enemy to us now.’

  ‘And you’re really a dreamer?’ Else followed him more willingly, wanting to know all those things he had hidden from her. ‘You can see that?’

  ‘Yes, I can,’ Dragmall sighed. ‘Which is both a curse and a gift, seeing and sensing evil. There was so much of it in Helsabor, and now it is all moving to Hest. To Draguta.’

  Else stopped, waiting while he turned back to her. ‘Why don’t we leave?’ she wondered. ‘I know this was your home, but I’m not sure I could ever feel safe here. Eadmund may have let us go, but once Draguta discovers it, she might try to find us.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure she’s already discovered it, Else, knowing the power of that woman. And yes, I believe we should leave. Absolutely. But first, I need to find the shield.’

  ‘You said that it was taken. Not in the catacombs anymore. How can we find it?’

  ‘Well,’ Dragmall mused, taking Else’s hand and slipping it through his arm while she was distracted, making it easier to quicken their pace towards the alley which led around the back of the castle. ‘I believe that Briggit took it, and if that’s the case, it shouldn’t be hard to find, especially if I can take something of hers to help me. Now, come along. We need to find our way to the kitchen before your empty stomach has everyone coming for us!’

  Amma had come to the hall looking for Meena. She hadn’t seen her all morning, and she was starting to feel anxious. If something had happened to Meena, she would have no one to talk to. No one who wasn’t terrifying and threatening.

  No one until Jaeger came back...

  Evaine looked her over with a sneer as she walked towards her with Tanja who was carrying a gurgling Sigmund. After finally running out of patience standing around while Meena talked to the plants, she had returned to her chamber to change her clothes and have Tanja fix her hair. Now, once again, she felt presentable, like the lady she was and the queen she would soon be. ‘Have you lost someone?’ she asked, eyeing Amma. She was such a timid, dull girl, though she was carrying Jaeger’s child, and Evaine knew very well how powerful that made her. Amma’s son would be the next King of Hest, just as Sigmund was Eadmund’s heir.

  Eadmund, who would soon be here too.

  ‘He will!’ Draguta exclaimed, gliding into the hall behind them. ‘Eadmund and Jaeger and all those slavish Followers who probably haven’t bathed in years, if ever!’ She rubbed her hands together, striding towards the throne, her white teeth gleaming. ‘I cannot wait!’

  Taking her place on the edge of the throne, she eyed Amma. ‘Your hair will not do. It is so plain. For a girl like you? The Queen of Hest? The woman who must look the loveliest of any in the kingdom?’

  Amma stopped moving, her brown eyes full of surprise.

  Draguta laughed. ‘You were not aware that you’re the Queen of Hest now? Or is it that you’d prefer to be the Queen of Brekka?’ She smiled, watching Amma’s discomfort flush her round cheeks. ‘There is no point in thinking of that anymore. Your future is here, with Jaeger. With your son. With me.’ Draguta eyed Sigmund who promptly burst into tears. ‘Unlike that child there, who has no future in Hest at all. Though, I’m sure he will make a good ally when he takes the throne from his father one day.’

  Evaine wasn’t sure what that meant, but the bounteous spread of food on offer had immediately claimed her attention, and she was barely listening as she motioned for Tanja to take a seat.

  Amma wondered if she had to stay.

  ‘You must eat!’ Draguta insisted, pointing her to the table. ‘That child requires nourishment, so eat, and then I shall have Brill try some styles with all that hair. We will find something befitting the queen, won’t we, Brill?’ She looked around, but there was no Brill anywhere, and Draguta frowned, certain that she’d been following her.

  She was always following her.

  And where was Meena? Surely she should have finished that list by now?

  Draguta glared at Ballack who was a steady, if mute presence now, guarding whichever room she happened to be in; waiting to lift something, to move someone. ‘You will go and find Brill. Send her to my chamber. I shall meet her there shortly.’ Her attention turned to Evaine who was busy filling a plate with hotcakes, one eye on the pot of honey, oblivious to the distress of her son who Tanja was struggling to soothe. ‘And why are you here, Evaine Gallas?’

  Evaine froze before slowly turning around. ‘Meena sent me away. She didn’t want my help.’

  ‘Is that so?’

  Evaine nodded vigorously. ‘In fact, she was quite rude. Ordering me about as though I was her servant. Me? My son’s father is the King of Oss. Why should I dig in the dirt under her orders!’

  Draguta eyed her with a look that had Evaine shrinking backwards. ‘Well, why indeed? Perhaps because you wish to retain your place at my table? In my castle? In this world? If I were you, Evaine, I would hurry back to the gardens and help your poor cousin before I forget why I decided to let you stay.’ She flapped her hand at Evaine. ‘Run along now, there’s a good girl. And do tell Meena to hurry up, or we may have to revisit our conversation about whether or not she requires a tongue!’

  The ship Eadmund would be sailing back to Hest in was bigger than any in his fleet, though the craftsmanship far fell short of anything Beorn would have been satisfied with. He smiled, remembering his crotchety master shipbuilder and how hard Jael liked to work him.

  His attention was diverted to Briggit, busy snapping at Berrick who insisted on fussing over her as though she was his mistress instead of his master’s prisoner. Eadmund shook his head. No doubt Berrick was still weighing his silver, trying to decide which side would win. But between Draguta and Briggit, Eadmund didn’t think there was much of a decision to make. He wasn’t really sure that that was where the actual question lay.

  Eadmund turned away, happy that Briggit was restrained, tucked into the stern opposite the stocky helmsman who eyed her with trepidation, one hand on the tiller, watching how carefully she studied him.

  Briggit had a way of making everyone think she had a plan.

  Eadmund hoped she didn’t. He just wanted to get to Hest and deliver her into Draguta’s hands.

  Walking towards the prow, he inhaled the salty tang of the sea as it beckoned, listening to the gentle rock of the waves slapping the hull. It reminded him of Oss and his father, and turning around, eyes on the mist-touched castle in the distance, Eadmund felt the relief of leaving the city, and the satisfaction that the headless body of Morana Gallas would rot in the darkness, far away from the Slave Islands and those whose lives she had destroyed.

  Forgotten by all.

  Remembered by none.

  Meena felt sick as she crept down the corridor to Draguta’s chamber. Evaine had found her in the winding gardens and reluctantly helped her collect the last items on the list, warning her that Draguta was in a terrible mood, ranting about how long she was taking. That had sent Meena into a panic, which Evaine added to by deciding that she needed to return to check on Sigmund, leaving Meena to carry the weighty baskets to Draguta’s chamber on her own.

  Reaching the door, Meena stopped to catch her breath, worried that Draguta would have seen into her dreams and watched her reading Varna’s books.

  Sighing, she knocked anyway, knowing that Draguta would be inside listening to her dithering outside.

  There was no reply.

  Glancing up and down the corridor, Meena couldn’t see anyone coming. She couldn’t hear anyone inside either. Torn between needing to go in and wanting to run away, she turned the handle and pushed open the door. ‘My lady?’ she croaked, her voice failing her. Clearing her throat, she tried again, edging further into the luxurious chamber which smelled strongly of jasmine, with a hint of blood. ‘My lady?’

  But there was no sign of Draguta at all, though she would not be far away.

  She would ha
ve to stay.

  Meena’s eyes roamed the chamber, almost reluctantly, resting on the table where Draguta must have been sitting. The chair was moved back, a piece of vellum and an inkpot near a seeing circle.

  And a tiny box.

  Meena’s eyes raced away from the box, back towards the door.

  Draguta was always one step ahead of them all. Always anticipating what everyone was planning. So if that box was sitting on the table, out in the open, Draguta knew that someone might try to take it.

  Perhaps that was why she was here all alone?

  Shivering, Meena placed the baskets on the floor, listening for footsteps approaching, but the only noise she could hear was a loud argument drifting towards her from down on the square. She picked up one boot and edged towards the table. And then another step, and soon she was standing beside it, hands by her sides as though that was where she had been waiting all along.

  The voice in Meena’s head was a high-pitched warning, alerting her to danger, but Meena turned towards the table, one hand reaching quickly for the box, shaking fingers fumbling with the lid.

  The ring was in there.

  She snapped the lid closed, shaking herself back into a standing position, eyes bulging, turning towards the door.

  Which opened.

  And in came Draguta and Amma, with Brill trailing silently behind them.

  Meena couldn’t swallow. She tried and tried, but she couldn’t swallow. And feeling the tightness in her throat, she panicked, suddenly hot and dizzy, still unable to swallow.

  And then everything went dark.

  19

  Dragmall had spent years in the castle with his father, Konall. Wulf Halvardar had respected Konall, and though the king had been a man with a small view of the world and an over-sized view of his part in it, he’d had a thirst for knowledge that a volka was perfectly positioned to quench. And, as a boy, Dragmall had tagged along. As a boy, and then, as a young man. He knew the castle well. And he knew how to slip up through the kitchens and into the bedchambers. Wulf Halvardar’s daughter, Neera, had been a beauty and there had been a time when he had...