Hallow wood, p.17
Hallow Wood, page 17
part #4 of The Furyck Saga Series
‘Well, she has no choice. I am the king here. If I wish to join in, she can’t stop me,’ Jaeger growled. ‘I don’t see why she would.’
Morana ignored him, turning to Meena while Jaeger continued to mutter to himself. ‘Get your things, little mouse. I have Draguta’s list, and it is long. We don’t have much time to gather everything for tonight.’
‘Meena?’ Jaeger was instantly irritated, glancing around at Meena who stood with her back to them, looking down at the harbour, wishing she couldn’t hear what they were saying. ‘Why do you need Meena?’
‘Draguta has requested our help,’ Morana said mutely, desperate not to acknowledge her true feelings. Not even to herself. ‘So we must help her.’ She glared at Meena, urging her to look around.
And eventually, feeling her skin crawl, Meena did.
‘You will come for me tonight, Morana,’ Jaeger demanded as he walked them to the door. ‘Do you hear me? I will be there. You can tell Draguta that.’
Meena blinked nervously at Jaeger before Morana shoved her into the corridor. She didn’t want to go to the Crown of Stones again.
Not one part of her wanted to see what Draguta could do.
Eadmund closed his eyes and saw Evaine. Her hand was out, reaching for him. Her eyes were drawing him to her. Needing him. She was smiling, so excited to see him, and then her face twisted in pain and she was crying, tears rolling down her cheeks as she slipped away, calling his name.
‘Eadmund?’ Villas asked as he swayed down the deck towards his king, disturbed by the anguished look on his face. ‘Is something wrong?’
Eadmund opened his eyes, shaking his head. He was almost surprised to realise that he wasn’t alone. It had been nice, just for a moment, to disappear. To escape the pain in his head, and the ache of Evaine’s absence in his heart. ‘No. Nothing. Just that hole in my head. Hopefully, I’ll find a soft pillow in Andala.’ He tried to sound different than he felt. He was furious and bereft at the same time. Though at who and why he didn’t know.
‘Likely you will, being a king,’ Villas winked as he swayed back to his tiller. ‘Won’t be long now!’ He’d closed his eyes for an hour and was still half asleep but eager to get back to his rightful place. He never felt like himself without that wooden stick in his hands.
Eadmund didn’t even notice him go. He was busy thinking of how quickly he could get to Hest and find Evaine.
It was like a thread, and she could feel it pulling from her heart to Eadmund’s.
Tugging so urgently that she couldn’t breathe.
Evaine stared up at the sky, watching the clouds chase each other above her, trying to count how many there were; trying to do anything to take her mind off the throbbing need to be with Eadmund again. It was as though she was hungry but could never eat.
But her body needed Eadmund, just as it needed food.
She sighed, losing count of the clouds again; wondering how long it would be before Eadmund came for her. He would, she knew. If that bitch didn’t try to stop him.
He would come for her soon.
15
They were getting closer. Aleksander could feel it.
The sun was going down, and he was hopeful that they’d arrive in Andala’s harbour before the rain started. He’d seen the clouds, and they promised a wet night. Lying his head back against the stern, Aleksander closed his eyes, trying to think. Something had been nagging at him all day, but he didn’t know what. Except, of course, the loss of the woman he loved, the threat to his home and his people, the worry over what was to come and the weight of responsibility he felt to try and stop it.
And Hanna.
He couldn’t stop his mind from returning to Hanna.
‘Aleksander!’
He thought he was awake, but he’d fallen asleep, and the voice sounded muffled. Aleksander spun around, confused, not knowing in which direction it was coming from. Or where he was. He turned and turned as though he was in the clouds, seeing nothing but dense, foggy shapes that finally cleared and revealed a tiny, wooden cottage hidden amongst tall trees.
The Widow’s cottage.
He remembered it. And not fondly.
‘Aleksander!’
The voice was more insistent now. It was suddenly clear, and Aleksander recognised its urgency. He felt his legs carry him forward, even though he wanted to remain where he was.
Danger lurked in that house, he was sure.
Or was he?
He remembered his dreams of the Widow. She had helped him, he reminded himself as he was pushed closer and closer to the door.
And then it flew open, and she stood there.
‘Aleksander,’ she sighed impatiently. ‘Come! Come inside. We don’t have much time.’
Morana was growing irate. They had gathered the items on Draguta’s list, but when they returned to her chamber, the door was locked. There was no sign of Draguta, and no one Morana asked knew where she had gone. ‘She cannot have just disappeared!’ she grumbled, glaring at Meena as they headed back down the corridor, carrying their weighty baskets.
‘Perhaps she went to the Crown of Stones?’ Meena suggested boldly. ‘To prepare it for tonight?’
It was one idea, but Morana didn’t want to trek all the way out to the stones only to find the place empty and then be sent back again later to prepare it themselves. She shook her head. ‘We’ll take one more look around the castle, then try the winding gardens. I’m not going up to the stones if I don’t have to.’ Morana frowned, catching a glimpse of a familiar face up ahead. ‘That’s one of her servants, isn’t it? Whatever her name is.’
Meena had terrible eyesight, so she simply shrugged and followed her aunt.
It was Draguta’s servant Brill, and she led them around the castle towards the heated baths where Draguta lay, submerged, enjoying the hot water of the ancient pool, her head resting back on the stone walkway.
‘My assistants,’ Draguta smiled, opening her eyes. ‘Do you have everything I need?’
‘We do,’ Morana muttered, trying to contain her irritation.
‘Wonderful! Now, go and start the preparations, and I shall join you when I’m done. Brill can unlock the chamber,’ she sighed, lifting her head as her sour-faced servant slipped a pillow under it. ‘Ahhh, perfect. This water is so gloriously warm. Filled with salt, you know. Perfect for purifying oneself, wouldn’t you agree, Morana?’
Meena’s eyes were wide, watching the steam rise from the pool. She had never dared to venture into the Dragos’ private bathing area; not even when she could be sure that it was empty. Her mouth hung open as her eyes ran over the inviting water.
Morana elbowed her in the ribs. ‘Close your mouth, girl, and let’s get going!’ she hissed. ‘I don’t have time to stand about waiting for you.’
Draguta smiled as she listened to them scurry away, feeling her body unwind, and her mind with it; all thoughts of the seeing circle floating away.
That was for another day.
She needed to turn her attention to tonight.
Aleksander swallowed, blinking in surprise.
When he had last seen the Widow, she had been hooded, shielding her face from him, leaving him to assume that she was hiding some sort of decaying, ghoulish face. But she looked like an ordinary, middle-aged woman; much as he imagined his mother would look if she were still alive.
‘The symbol won’t work,’ the Widow said urgently, reaching out a hand to him. Her hair was dark and short; silvery grey too. It sat at her shoulders, which were slightly rounded. She stooped forward; not an old woman, but a defeated-looking one. ‘The symbol won’t work on Draguta.’
‘What do you mean? Why not?’
‘You must bring Jael to me,’ she went on, ignoring him. ‘When you return to Andala, bring her to me, Aleksander. It is time she knows everything. And there is something I must give her. I have the other copy of the Book of Aurea. She needs it. But for now, come closer, and I will show you another symbol. You must use it. All of you. Before it’s too late. Before Draguta sees things she shouldn’t.’
Aleksander stepped forward, towards the table where she waited. He bent down to stare at the symbol carved into the wooden surface; deep and old, as though it had been burned into the table itself. And when he looked up again, he could see the symbol all around them: in the walls, etched into the door frame, carved on the floor too.
‘Wake now, Aleksander. Carve this symbol for Jael. Find something. Make it for her now. It is very important. She is not safe. Draguta will see what she is trying to hide. You must make this for Jael, now!’
Aleksander opened his mouth, determined to ask more questions, but she drifted away from him, her arm still outstretched, her voice fading into the clouds that swarmed around them both. ‘Now, Aleksander! Wake up! Before it’s too late!’ she cried.
Jael woke up, thinking about Eydis. Hoping she was alright.
She wasn’t sure if everything she saw when she was asleep was some sort of message, or whether it was just a dream. But she had seen Eydis as a little girl. She was on Oss, with her mother and Eirik. They had been holding Eydis’ little hands, smiling down at her as she toddled along between them.
Jael felt sad, realising how much Eydis had lost.
And now, Eadmund had left her too.
‘You must have been tired,’ Runa murmured, rocking Sigmund in her arms. ‘I didn’t think anyone would fall asleep through this one’s noise.’
Jael blinked at Runa, surprised herself. She didn’t normally fall asleep during the day. Yawning, she stood, hitting her head on the roof of the house. The noise frightened Sigmund who promptly burst into tears again. ‘Sorry,’ Jael mumbled as she skirted the sleepy children and servants, and headed out of the house, leaving Runa to try and coax Sigmund back to sleep.
‘He likes to make a lot of noise,’ Beorn noted, rolling his eyes at the ear-splitting sound. ‘Must take after his mother.’
Jael smiled, noticing how dark it was getting. She strained her eyes and was pleased to see the faint shapes of Brekka in the distance. ‘Nearly there.’
Beorn looked just as pleased. It had been a smooth journey, and he had almost enjoyed himself for the first time in Jael’s company. He frowned, noticing Silver Tooth pointing straight for them. ‘Over there!’ he called to Jael, nodding towards the fast approaching ship.
Jael walked to the row of shields lining the gunwale and leaned over them, watching Aleksander flap his arms at her. ‘Slow us down, Beorn!’ she cried, turning to him. ‘Slow us down, now!’
Eydis couldn’t stop yawning.
Fyn smiled at her. It had not been long since Branwyn had brought him supper, yet Eydis appeared ready for her bed. ‘Are you alright, Eydis?’ he wondered softly.
Eydis sat up straighter on her stool, nodding, feeling embarrassed. She was nearly fourteen-years-old. Everything embarrassed her. She reached down, feeling paws on her knees.
Ido.
She tried to pick him up but he was far too heavy, so he jumped onto Fyn’s bed instead.
‘No!’ Fyn yelped as the little, black dog hopped on top of him.
Biddy bustled in, holding two cups of steaming passionflower tea in her hands. ‘What’s going on in here? Ido! Get down! What are you doing, you naughty boy!’
There wasn’t much she could do with no hands free, but her sharp tone was enough for Ido, who leaped off the bed, scampering out of the chamber in a black blur.
‘I’ll have to keep that door shut,’ Biddy grumbled, placing the cups on the table by Fyn’s bed before taking a good look at him. He was still very pale. His big, blue eyes had sunk into his face, and his cheekbones were jutting out. There was a deep sadness about him that she could only guess was the disappointment at being left behind. Worry too, not knowing what was happening on Oss with Jael, and his mother. ‘How are you, then?’ Biddy asked cheerfully, glancing at Eydis before bending forward to try and prop Fyn up. ‘Entorp will be here soon to check on your wound and slather on more of his balm no doubt, so don’t go to sleep yet!’
Both Eydis and Fyn wrinkled their noses.
‘Well, I’m sure it will wake you up, Eydis. You look half asleep,’ Biddy said, handing Fyn the cup of tea. He was tucked in a small chamber just off the hall. It was relatively peaceful. Close to the kitchen too, which meant that Biddy could rush about, checking on Edela and Axl and Entorp without having to be too far away from him.
Eydis looked uncomfortable, dropping her head to her chest.
‘What is it?’
‘Well, I, it’s... your snoring,’ Eydis mumbled. ‘Yours and Edela’s. It’s hard to sleep in the cottage.’
Fyn burst out laughing, spluttering hot tea all over his chest, grimacing at the excruciating stab of pain in his stomach.
‘Here, let me take that,’ Biddy said quickly, grabbing the cup and looking around for some form of cloth. ‘And I don’t know what you mean about snoring, Eydis. I’ve been sleeping like the dead since we returned!’ Lifting up her apron, she dabbed Fyn’s chest. ‘Perhaps we should swap places tonight? I can sleep on the floor. We need you dreaming, Eydis. You must see if you can find that book.’
Eydis nodded eagerly, feeling the same way. She was worried about Eadmund. Whenever she saw his face, he looked like a stranger, and she could feel how desperately lost he was. But if she could dream and find that book again – see the symbols, perhaps even read the words – then maybe she could save him. She yawned again, feeling Biddy grab her hand.
‘Right, you’re coming with me, young miss! I’m going to put you in the hall with Amma. You can curl up on a bed near her while I finish up what I’m doing and then we’ll head back to the cottage.’
Fyn smiled at Eydis as Biddy tugged her towards the door. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Eydis!’ he called out as she disappeared. His head sunk back into the pillow and his smile quickly vanished.
He couldn’t stop thinking about Jael. Wondering what she was doing. She certainly didn’t need his help, but he had wanted to be there, by her side. It meant something that she valued him. That she thought he was good enough to stand beside her. It meant more than almost anything.
But now, trapped in bed like an invalid... he felt worthless again.
‘What is it?’ Jael shouted, waiting for the ships to be pulled together. Ropes had been thrown from Silver Tooth to Sea Bear, and now her crew was busy pulling them in.
Aleksander didn’t say anything until they were almost face to face; until he could reach out and touch her hand. And he did, placing a small piece of wood into her cold palm. ‘The symbol on the stones won’t work on Draguta. This is the symbol that will keep her out. You need to make yourself safe!’
Jael’s eyes rounded in surprise. ‘How do you know?’ she called, but Aleksander was already turning away, bellowing at his helmsman. ‘We have to get to Andala quickly! They’re not safe. They’re carving the wrong symbol into the walls!’
Jael turned to her men, standing by the gunwales in confusion. ‘Release the ropes! We have to fly!’ She looked up at the darkening clouds knitting together above her head, remembering the ravens.
Eadmund watched Jael flapping her arms at Beorn, wondering what she had been talking to Aleksander about. The wind was picking up, and they were getting closer to Andala’s harbour, he knew. It hadn’t been a long journey, but he was thankful that it was nearly over.
He was consumed with worry for Evaine, and unable to think clearly, not knowing whether she was safe.
How long before he would know?
How long before he would see her again?
Jael was watching him now, and as much as Eadmund could feel his body clenching uncomfortably, he didn’t turn away. His head pounded and he thought back to the attack on Oss, reminded that Jael had arrived just in time, saving him from having more than a small hole in his head. If Borg Arnesson had had his way, he wouldn’t have a head at all.
Eadmund frowned, turning away, finally uncomfortable.
Edela felt strange.
Sometimes her dreams were like open doors, and she could walk through any one of them and find the answers to the questions she had posed. Other times, though, they were locked, and she didn’t even know what the question was in the first place. But it was there. Unspoken. Nagging at her, scolding her, trying to get her to see what was right in front of her face.
A problem.
There was definitely a problem.
‘We made good progress with the symbols today,’ Kormac smiled, passing his mother-in-law a bowl of wild plums. ‘Hopefully, we’ll get close to finishing the walls tomorrow.’
Edela had eaten two bowls of mutton stew for supper, and she shook her head distractedly.
Gant, sitting to Kormac’s right, nodded. ‘The sea-fire is coming along too. We’ll get another batch going tomorrow. We should be in good shape when Jael and Aleksander return.’
Edela did not look pleased.
‘What is it, Grandmother? Is there something else we should be doing?’ Axl wondered, spitting a plum pit onto his plate and reaching for his ale.
‘Doing?’ Edela frowned. ‘I imagine there’s always more we can be doing. No,’ she smiled. ‘I’m just having dreamer problems. Nothing you can do about that.’ She grimaced, her stomach scar aching as it often did in the evenings. ‘I can’t think of anything else for us to do but wait for Jael and make our plans. And hope to hear from your sister soon, Amma.’
Amma looked up, smiling awkwardly. She was convinced that Getta would refuse to help them, and she doubted that there was any chance her husband would have much say in the matter. The Getta she remembered had wound Lothar around her little finger, time and time again.
‘Yes, and we need to think of what to do if we don’t hear from them,’ Axl suggested, sensing Amma’s unease. ‘Or if they don’t want to help. We need more men to attack Hest. It won’t be enough to just have the Islanders join us, will it?’
