Vale of the Gods

by A. E. Rayne

  Tomorrow.

  46

  The ring was on her mind.

  Draguta was talking to Brill who stood next to Meena, and the ring was on her mind.

  And Draguta didn’t look her way once.

  Meena didn’t want her confidence to trip her up, though. It wouldn’t help if she made a mess of everything now. The potion appeared to be working well, keeping Draguta away from her thoughts, and the tea she had given Draguta appeared to have made no difference.

  She glanced around at the Followers sitting in a circle on the grass verge beside them. A large group of dishevelled looking women. No men. No man had survived Draguta’s purge. None of them were looking at her suspiciously either. And Briggit appeared far too interested in pleasing Draguta to bother terrorising her anymore. But Evaine?

  Evaine’s eyes never left her alone as she waited to be called upon.

  ‘I want this to be a grand feast!’ Draguta was insisting in a sharp tone. ‘We have more than one table, don’t we?’

  Brill looked ill. They had brought as much as they could from the castle, though she had not expected her mistress to want more than one dining table. ‘We could only fit one big table in the wagon,’ she mumbled, eyeing the Followers.

  ‘One? Well, we don’t really need more, I suppose. Just enough for us. Those of us who matter, at least.’ And her eyes snapped to Evaine who was becoming so attentive now, though still as useless as ever as she stood there while everyone else worked.

  ‘Draguta.’

  Eadmund was there and she spun around with a smile. ‘You have found Jaeger, then?’ He nodded, and Draguta felt her confidence renew. He was compliant, so very compliant, and it made her happy. ‘Good, well, then come along with me. Let these little helpers organise our supper. We will discuss how I expect it to unfold, and what I require from each of you.’

  Eadmund turned away and Meena felt the change in him, realising that he was no ally anymore, if he ever had been.

  ‘Are you dreaming?’

  Meena bit her tongue, shivering as Briggit crept up behind her. ‘I...’

  ‘You appear to be in such a dream,’ Briggit smiled, walking around to face her. ‘But then, you are a dreamer, aren’t you? Not a very good one, though, it seems.’ And she lifted a finger to Meena’s face, running it around her jaw, down to her chin, over her lips. ‘Or are you? With a grandmother like Varna Gallas? An aunt like Morana? Perhaps it’s all an act? This little mouse everyone thinks you are?’ She took her finger away, enjoying the sudden red hue that coloured Meena’s face; the stink of her sweat as she panicked.

  ‘Little mouse, little mouse...’ Briggit mused. ‘Oh, but what a shame it would be if the little mouse got herself trapped. Jaeger would be so sad to lose a friend like you.’ And swinging around with a smug smile, Briggit strode away after Draguta and Eadmund.

  Meena stood watching her, wondering what she could see.

  Wondering what she knew.

  Supper was delicious.

  ‘If I hadn’t asked Isaura to marry me, I’d ask you,’ Thorgils grinned, beard dripping with the mushroom stew Aleksander had been slaving over since they’d made camp for the night. ‘Not sure anything’s ever tasted so good!’

  Karsten was nodding beside him, quiet but enjoying the hot meal after a day spent gnawing on salt fish and stale flatbreads. He hadn’t said much since his talk with Jael. Nothing felt real, and he was choosing to pretend that it hadn’t even happened. As though the only thing that existed was this army of warriors on a journey to the greatest battle Osterland would ever witness. One they would embroider in gold thread on long tapestries that would hang on the walls of his castle; tales of great feats and heroic battles that Warunda would bellow from every stage, and from every hall in the land.

  Karsten hoped he would live to hear it.

  Ivaar frowned, surprised that Thorgils was going to marry Isaura. He felt nothing except the relief of no longer being married to her himself. His eyes wandered to Ayla, who remained the most beautiful woman he had seen since Melaena, though he had ruined that. Treated her badly.

  He tried not to look at Bruno.

  That wouldn’t help.

  Aleksander was pleased with the compliment and the happy faces of the stuffed bodies that slumped around the fire, occasionally glancing at the cauldron, wondering if there was any more.

  There wasn’t. Thorgils had already seen to that.

  ‘Do you think she’ll come again tonight?’ Fyn asked. They were sitting inside Jael’s circle. Ayla had made her own. It felt reassuring to have the protection, but the circles were not helping to ease the tension amongst her warriors.

  The eyes that drifted towards Jael and her men were hooded.

  Resentful.

  She noticed, hoping they would arrive at the vale before that resentment dug in too deep. ‘Draguta? I don’t know. Perhaps. We’re not far away now, so maybe, or maybe not. Just make sure you go to sleep dressed in everything you want to keep with you. Have your horse saddled. And stuff some food in your trousers!’ She smiled at Thorgils, who looked as though he was taking the idea seriously.

  No one spoke, and Jael was conscious of the slow wail of the wind flapping tents behind them. She wondered whether that was the sound of Veiga, still bound by Draguta.

  ‘Well, I hope she gives us a chance to fight her,’ Axl muttered, placing his empty trencher on the dirt. ‘After what she’s put us through? I hope she lets us come. I don’t want to be stopped now.’

  Low grunts of agreement, nodding shadows, a loud fart.

  Thorgils’ grin was bright in the darkness, his eyes suddenly sad as he thought of Torstan who he had killed, and Eadmund who he’d let go.

  If it hadn’t been for him, Eadmund would be here, preparing to fight with Jael as he was meant to.

  Fyn tapped him on the shoulder. ‘Thorgils?’

  And Thorgils blinked, realising that Fyn was trying to hand him the ale jug. Shaking his head, he took it, filling his cup. ‘Who’s ready for a few tales, then?’ he called, trying to shut away the memories and the voices of his friends.

  They were gone now. Both of them.

  But he still had a chance to help bring Eadmund back.

  ‘Draguta’s keeping you busy,’ Jaeger smiled, slipping his arm around Meena’s waist, pulling her close. They were walking into the trees that formed a small wood behind the Tree of Agrayal. Meena didn’t know why.

  She sighed, her shoulders tense. She knew why.

  Jaeger’s appetite for her was only increasing, and Meena was petrified that it would get her in trouble with Draguta. She knew that it would get her in trouble with Draguta. ‘There’s a lot to do,’ she insisted, wanting an escape, but her face still ached from the last time she’d displeased him, and she knew that it was better to do whatever he wanted. All of it. No matter how much she loathed it.

  ‘There is, but in a few days we’ll be heading back to Hest, and everything will be different.’

  He sounded so confident.

  ‘Unless it goes wrong,’ Meena mumbled. ‘What if Jael Furyck defeats Eadmund? She could, couldn’t she?’ Jaeger had stopped, his attention on the ground, clearing away pine cones and rocks with his boot, and she was trying to distract him.

  He frowned. ‘She could. Though Eadmund is not the useless piece of shit he once was. But don’t worry, I’ll finish her if she ruins Draguta’s plans. Eadmund too.’

  ‘You?’ Meena blinked. Jaeger sounded as bold and strong as if he’d been holding the Book of Darkness in his hands.

  Jaeger grabbed her arm, pulling her down to the ground. ‘Do we really need to be talking about Eadmund and Jael now? When we’re here, together? Why worry about them? Neither one of them will survive what’s coming. Draguta and I have spoken about it. Whatever happens, I’m to ensure that neither of them lives. You’ve nothing to worry about, Meena. Nothing to worry about at all.’ And stroking her face with one hand, he pushed her backwards with the other.

  ‘
Jaeger took her,’ Brill tried to explain as she stood in front of Draguta’s turned down bed in her very comfortable looking tent.

  Draguta’s raised eyebrow was unimpressed.

  ‘But she made the tea before she left,’ Brill hurried to add, her shoulders hunching up to her ears. ‘I have been keeping it warm for you.’

  ‘How kind you are, dear Brill,’ Draguta cooed, though her eyes were hard. ‘And so... loyal. I am grateful to have you by my side, tending to my needs.’ She stepped closer to the tall servant, studying her in the glow of the tent. Brill had been keeping all the candles and lamps alight too, despite the sudden determination of the wind. ‘Loyalty, as you know, is very important to me. Above all things, I must trust those around me, like you and Meena.’

  Brill’s throat was so dry that she couldn’t swallow, and she was attempting not to. Instead, she spluttered, coughing all over Draguta. ‘I... I am sorry! It is... I am hot!’

  Draguta laughed, knowing how terrified she made the girl. It was amusing, she supposed. ‘Grab yourself something to drink, then. Hurry along. And bring in that tea. I may even try two cups of it tonight.’ There was a hint of desperation in her voice, and she scowled to hear it as she spun around, her eyes on the small tables. On the new seeing circles she had just drawn.

  Taking a seat before one, she ran a finger around the symbols, setting them aglow. ‘Oh, how I wish we were on the same side, Sister,’ Draguta murmured, searching through the forest, certain that Dara was hiding in it somewhere. ‘How much more fun everything would be with you by my side.’

  The forest was warded with symbols. Draguta could see them shimmering as she ran her eyes over the trees; dark, tall shadows, swaying in the wind. She thought about Darroc. That smelly old buffoon. She would have to find him before that pointless god decided to play any more games. He thought that he could hide from her like the rest of them. From her?

  She would find him. And Dara. And every other god cowering in the shadows.

  There was no place for any of them in what she had planned.

  No place at all.

  Dara was crying out in her sleep, and Eloris didn’t know what to do.

  Eloris did not sleep. She was immortal, like Dara, though Dara needed dreams, which came to her more powerfully when she was asleep. And though she appeared distressed, Eloris didn’t want to wake her before she found the answer to whatever had been eluding her for days.

  ‘Aarrghh!’ Dara sat up, head swivelling, confused.

  They were in another cave. She didn’t even remember where.

  They journeyed in the dark, hiding in dense thickets, woods, forests, far away from where anyone would find them.

  She hoped.

  ‘Dara?’ Eloris kneeled down beside her. ‘What is it?’

  Dara shook her head before closing her eyes. Her dream had gone, the threads dangling far from her reach. Sighing, she hung her head. ‘I don’t remember. I don’t remember. It was there, on the tip of my tongue, and then... gone.’

  ‘But it was troubling? Something was wrong?’

  Dara nodded slowly, lifting her head. ‘Yes.’ It was like an ice-cold hand on her shoulder. As though someone was there, whispering to her in panicked tones.

  A warning.

  ‘Stop her!’

  Edela felt refreshed when she woke. Her back was stiff, and she couldn’t turn her head to the right, but her mind was brimming with renewed energy.

  ‘Any dreams?’ Biddy wondered, handing her a bowl of steaming porridge.

  ‘No dreams,’ Edela admitted. ‘Though I shall take that as a good sign. We are all still here to fight another day, and neither of the girls had any either, so perhaps there was nothing to dream about?’ She was determined to sound positive. It was not in anyone’s interests for them to feel defeated yet, though it was hard not to let the constant terror and grief gnaw at their spirits.

  Biddy smiled, sitting down with her own porridge, sprinkling some chopped hazelnuts into the bowl, her eyes on Entorp who was very quiet as he sat opposite them. ‘What about you, then? You don’t look as though you slept at all.’

  ‘Oh, no, I slept,’ Entorp sighed. ‘I had terrible dreams all night long.’

  ‘You did?’ Edela’s attention shifted to the doors where Ontine was helping Eydis inside, the two of them having taken the puppies for a walk. She smiled, pleased to see how well they were getting along now; frowning as she caught a glimpse of Sybill who was approaching her daughter with those ferrety eyes of hers. Realising that she was staring, Edela turned back to Entorp. ‘What did you dream about, then?’

  ‘My wife. My children.’

  Biddy stopped eating. Entorp rarely talked about his family, and she could see how disturbed he was.

  ‘I saw what The Following did to them.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Edela wondered. ‘As though you were there?’

  Entorp rubbed his heavy eyes. ‘Yes, I was there in the dream, the nightmare, watching the Followers kill them.’ He shuddered. ‘It was very distressing.’

  ‘Oh, Entorp.’ Biddy reached out a hand, patting his, a sympathetic look in her eyes. ‘That must have been awful.’

  ‘I agree, but you’re no dreamer, Entorp,’ Edela said. ‘It was not real, so likely not anything that actually happened. Best you try to pretend you never saw it. Imagine them as they were. You cannot help them now.’

  ‘No, I can’t. But it made me think about The Following. About how secretive they were. Even Isobel didn’t know every Follower in Tuura.’

  ‘She didn’t?’ Edela was surprised.

  ‘No. They worked to shield themselves from discovery. To remain hidden from each other, separated, so that if one Follower was discovered and forced to reveal what they knew, they couldn’t expose everyone else.’

  ‘But they’re dreamers,’ Biddy said. ‘Couldn’t they tell? Couldn’t they see the truth?’

  Entorp shook his head. ‘No, they could mask themselves. I’m not sure how, but Isobel told me they could. Our neighbours may have been Followers, and we would never have known.’

  Biddy’s eyes were full of worry as she scanned the hall. ‘But that means we could have Followers among us,’ she hissed. ‘Couldn’t we?’

  Entorp nodded. ‘It is possible, yes, I think so.’

  Biddy turned to Edela wondering just what they were going to do about that, but Edela’s eyes were on Sybill who was watching her, a smile on that insipid, rodent-like face of hers.

  There was no tent for Evaine, and she watched Eadmund emerging from his with a weary scowl from her bed of grass. Her dress was damp, and her neck was twinging, and she thought longingly of her chamber in the castle. Even Yorik Elstad’s revolting cottage would have been preferable to sleeping outside.

  Frowning, she reached for her father’s satchel. She had brought it with her, though she didn’t really know why. She had packed a spare dress inside, a comb, another pair of shoes, though Eadmund would not have looked at her if she had been made of gold. She knew that now.

  Searching through the satchel, looking for her comb, Evaine blinked, her fingers on a book. And dragging it out, she smiled, remembering Morana. It was her book.

  Help, she’d said.

  Help for when she needed it.

  Karsten had joined the scouts, wanting to get away from everyone who felt the need to offer some sympathy for the loss of his wife. He didn’t want sympathy, though. He wanted some ale. A bed with a thick mattress. A throne.

  He thought about Hanna as he rode back to the head of the line, to where Jael was riding with Aleksander; Aleksander who’d made his feelings for Hanna known now. Or perhaps it was the other way around? Karsten wasn’t sure.

  ‘Any sign of a murderous, monster-wielding witch?’ Thorgils called. ‘Any dragons or possessed goats?’

  Raymon laughed. He’d come to join Jael at the front, leaving Soren to command the Iskavallans. ‘I don’t think a possessed goat would be scary, would it?’

  They all look
ed at him as though he was their annoying little brother who had tagged along somewhere he wasn’t invited.

  ‘Well, possibly not,’ Jael said, watching Raymon’s cheeks flush pink. ‘Though, they’ve got those little horns. I wouldn’t like to be jabbed by one of those.’

  Karsten slipped in beside Jael. ‘Nothing to see out there. Feels a bit odd.’

  ‘Does it?’ Jael’s body tingled all over. ‘Why?’

  ‘Didn’t see any sign of animals. Couldn’t hear any either. Not even a bird.’

  It was true, Jael realised. They had been so busy talking, trying to keep their minds off what lay ahead that they’d barely taken a breath since they’d left their campsite that morning.

  It was disconcerting.

  ‘But surely we’re days away?’ Raymon wondered. ‘Aren’t we?’

  ‘We’re aiming for something I saw in a dream,’ Jael reminded him. ‘It doesn’t mean Draguta had the same dream or any intention of making it come true. But if we carry on at this pace, we should reach the vale by tomorrow night. Or, at least, we’ll be close. We still have to get those catapults over a few hills. Might take some time.’

  ‘Perhaps the gods warned them?’ Raymon suggested, already regretting that he’d opened his mouth again.

  Jael turned to her youngest brother with a frown. ‘You might be right.’ She looked up, not having seen Fyr since she’d flown away that morning.

  Hoping she would see her again soon.

  Edela was finding it hard to concentrate. ‘Yes, yes,’ she muttered. ‘Two of those.’ Her eyes were briefly on Ontine before she turned back around, watching the hall doors opening and closing. It was warm enough to keep them open, she thought irritably, feeling a sudden rush of heat.

  ‘I thought you were feeling better today?’ Biddy smiled as she passed. ‘You look as though you need some fresh air. It’s getting a bit hot in here.’