Soldiers he recognised were throwing water at the doors, trying to extinguish the flames. They looked him up and down but made no move towards him, so Kormac kept running until he reached the rear of the stables, looking for the door to the secret room.

  The smoke was in his throat. He was struggling to breathe, not having run this much since he was a boy. But he didn’t stop. He thought of Branwyn.

  He didn’t stop.

  ‘Kormac!’ Branwyn screamed as he ran past. ‘Kormac!’

  He skidded to a halt and rushed back to his wife, pulling her into his arms, inhaling the smoke in her hair, quickly looking around, checking who was there. They all were. And so was Aron, much to his relief. ‘The horses?’ he asked.

  ‘They’re all out,’ Biddy croaked.

  ‘We have to leave,’ Edela said weakly. ‘Tuura will burn.’

  ‘You’ve seen this?’ Gisila asked, her eyes watering.

  Edela nodded.

  ‘But Jael!’

  ‘Don’t you worry about Jael,’ Edela promised. ‘But we must open the gates. We need help!’

  Kormac looked puzzled. ‘Help?’

  ‘Hurry!’ Edela insisted, stumbling against Entorp. ‘We must open the gates!’

  ‘Fire!’

  Aleksander’s eyes sprung open.

  ‘There was no one there,’ Beorn said hoarsely as he caught up with Jael. ‘Every room we tried was empty.’

  Fyn gulped. He felt sick. His arms were shaking. Thankfully, it was too dark for anyone to notice.

  Jael looked at Marcus. ‘Do they know we’re coming?’ she whispered.

  He shrugged. ‘I’d say it makes little difference now.’

  ‘How many guards in the temple?’

  ‘I’m not sure. Maybe thirty? Forty?’

  ‘We broke the binding spell tonight, so perhaps they won’t be against us now?’ Jael suggested hopefully.

  Marcus shook his head, feeling his body tense. ‘The temple guards are bound in a different way, I think. Most of them are Followers.’

  Jael squeezed her fingers tightly around her shield grip, trying to force open her swollen eye. ‘And the elders? The dreamers? What can they do?’

  ‘It depends on what they might have been told. I honestly don’t know anymore. But they will work together to stop you leaving. Know that.’

  Jael turned to Beorn. ‘We have to kill everyone we see. And quickly. We can’t give them an opportunity to cause any trouble. Take your men and go for the guards. Aedan, Fyn, we’ll go for the dreamers.’ She smiled at the men whose eyes glowed eagerly back at her in the gloomy passageway; boots shuffling on the flagstones, sweaty palms tightening around swords and axes.

  They were eager to begin. Tired of feeling like prisoners.

  ‘We kill them, we go home,’ Jael growled. ‘Think of Oss. They need us to get out of here. We can’t help them until we do.’ And turning back to Marcus, and thinking of Eadmund, she nodded. ‘Let’s go!’

  The temple guards were going to be a problem.

  There were more of them than Kormac had realised and they were lining up across the gates in a great red row, blocking their exit. He turned to Aron, feeling the heat from the flames as they edged closer, sensing the oppressive clouds of smoke drifting towards them.

  It was getting hard to breathe.

  They needed to open the gates.

  Gisila was keeping the puppies close, wrapping their ropes around her wrist. Branwyn had Edela, and Edela had Eydis. Entorp had managed to secure Tig with a rope he had found, and Alaric was there too, cowering behind Kayla, who was jiggling her grizzling daughter.

  But while the gates were blocked, there was no escape.

  ‘Where have you been?’ one of the temple guards yelled, turning to the straggling bunch of sleepy-eyed soldiers who emerged from the guard tower by the gates. ‘Seize them!’

  Horsa blinked, looking around at Aron and his family, then back to the row of guards. He turned back to his own men, searching for a commander, but he couldn’t see one.

  He felt as though he had woken from the longest dream.

  And suddenly, everything was clear.

  ‘Why?’ Horsa wondered.

  And Kormac drew his sword. ‘They’re all in The Following!’ he cried, pointing to the temple guards. ‘The Following had you bound to them! We broke the spell! You’re free now, but Tuura will burn! My mother-in-law, she’s a dreamer, she’s seen it! We must open the gates! Now!’

  ‘Horsa, please!’ Aron begged as more soldiers arrived. ‘You have to help us!’

  Horsa looked confused, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the flames sparking against the dark sky. He strode towards the guards. ‘We need to open the gates,’ he said simply. ‘They’re not our prisoners. Clear the way!’ He saw people running towards them, trying to escape the fire, dragging their terrified children, clutching their possessions to their chests, pulling their animals behind them. Screaming, coughing, panicking people. He frowned, disturbed by the guards’ reluctance to move. ‘Clear the way!’

  The guards didn’t move.

  Horsa drew his sword.

  The grand chamber was full as Jael and her Osslanders strode into it.

  Full of dead-eyed, red-breasted guards lining the walls and black-robed dreamers and elders surrounding the fires. And in the very centre of them all stood Gerod Gott.

  ‘Ahhh, you’ve come!’ he smiled, licking his red lips. ‘I was growing impatient.’

  He had no sword, but nor did he need one, flanked as he was by a shield of kneeling dreamers and a circle of guards.

  ‘Impatient to die?’ Jael wondered, quickly sweeping the room with her eyes. Marcus appeared right in his assessment. She guessed that there were about thirty guards and she had about thirty men. Those were better odds than she’d hoped for. ‘I can help you with that. Kill them!’ And raising her shield to her shoulder, she charged the circle of guards, Fyn and Aedan running behind her.

  The Osslanders fanned out on either side of them, clashing against the temple guards who rushed up to meet them.

  The cavernous temple was suddenly filled with noise.

  And Marcus slunk away.

  ‘Aron!’ Branwyn screamed as her youngest son drew his sword and rushed to join his father and the melee of soldiers fighting against the guards.

  ‘Branwyn, take everyone back!’ Kormac cried. ‘Get back!’ His cry was muffled as he dropped his chin to his chest, ducking a sword blow.

  Soldiers scattered; some rushing back into the tower for swords; others scrambling to defend themselves with what they had to hand.

  Blood-curdling cries rose into the night.

  Branwyn panicked, blinking through the smoke, glancing around at the burning buildings. Kayla looked terrified, trying to soothe her crying baby. Eydis was frozen, feeling the heat from the flames as they got closer; the puppies’ ropes tangling around her legs.

  Everyone was petrified, desperate to escape the rapidly approaching fire.

  With one last look at Kormac and Aron, Branwyn shepherded them all away, searching for a safe place to shelter.

  Jael was confused.

  As she fought her way to Gerod with Fyn and Aedan by her side, she was certain that she’d killed three guards, but each one was on his feet again, his wounds gone.

  Jael spun, frowning and came face to face with Baccus.

  She blinked in surprise.

  ‘Thought you’d killed me?’ he spat, gripping his enormous sword in both hands. There were no marks on his throat that she could see.

  The fires were high. It felt unusually hot in the temple.

  She smelled smoke.

  ‘Well, lucky me,’ Jael breathed, quickly realising how much trouble they were in. She backed away from him, glancing around. Gerod stood defiantly in the centre of the dreamers who had their eyes closed, their lips moving.

  Chanting.

  Jael’s head felt hazy as she inhaled more of the smoke.

  She knew that smoke.

  Baccus charged, swinging, and Jael pushed back her foot, catching his sword on the edge of her blade. The vibration shot up her arm. She ducked his next blow and sliced across his waist. He jerked back, growling at her, shaking his head.

  Lunging again, Jael slashed quickly from side to side, trying to keep him busy while she thought of what to do. She had to stop the dreamers.

  ‘Arrrhhh!’

  Jael’s eyes darted to the right as one of her men fell, a sword through his middle. She looked back, swaying to the right, avoiding Baccus’ blow, dropping to the floor, sliding, slicing across the backs of his thighs. He stumbled, and she was up, kicking in his knees, knocking him to the ground, jumping onto his back, her sword through his neck.

  She checked on Fyn who was struggling, grunting loudly with the effort of holding off the quick moving axe of the thick-necked guard that Jael was certain she’d already killed.

  They were all struggling. It was like fighting statues.

  Men who would not die.

  ‘Go for their heads!’ she screamed. ‘Take off their heads!’

  Lunging to her right, she tried to do just that to a guard who was thankfully shorter that Baccus. He swayed away from her blade, snarling at her, spittle flying everywhere. Jael leaned to the side, taking all her weight on her left leg, then snapped her right leg up, into his cheekbone, listening to the crack as the knife down her boot broke it.

  The guard shrieked, falling to the ground, clutching his broken face. Jael was over him quickly, teeth gritted as she swung back her sword and hacked the blade down across his throat.

  Taking off his head.

  Wiping the blood out of her eyes, Jael was up, ducking a whirling spear as another guard approached. She skidded across the floor, out of his reach, behind him, stabbing him in the back. His legs shook, and he staggered forward but not out of her reach. Jael kicked him in his gaping wound, and he tipped over, his face hitting the flagstones with a wet slap. She rushed to him, sword in both hands and cleaved his head from his neck.

  Spinning around, she looked for Marcus, but he had gone, and all she could see was Gerod’s shining face, confident in how it would all end.

  Jael sucked in a breath as Baccus, back on his feet, lunged at her, chopping his blade down towards her head. She reached up with her sword, teeth gritted, anticipating the impact, pushing her boots onto the floor. ‘Grrrrr!’ she roared as Baccus’ giant blade came down, cracking hers in two.

  Jael quickly threw away the broken sword and drew her knife.

  Eydis, she begged. Eydis, help us!

  47

  Branwyn found a lean-to.

  It was barely big enough to fit them all, but she squeezed everyone in beneath the thatched roof, waiting for the gates to open. Too anxious to speak, they huddled together. Kayla jiggling the baby over her shoulder; Gisila trying to calm the puppies; Branwyn checking on her mother and Eydis, her mind on Kormac and Aron.

  Entorp stood outside, holding onto Tig, one eye on the rapidly approaching fire.

  ‘They will not die,’ Eydis said dreamily. ‘They cannot die. We can’t escape. They will not let us leave!’

  Edela gasped at a sudden pain in her stomach. It was as though Evaine was stabbing her all over again. She groaned and adjusted herself, feeling light-headed, desperate for water. ‘Eydis,’ she croaked, patting her arm. ‘Can you see the book? Close your eyes. Shut us all out now. Find the page, Eydis. Find the page!’

  ‘Arrrhhh!’ Aron screamed as the blade dug into his cheek. He jerked back, his ears ringing. Gritting his teeth, he swung his sword up to meet the next blow.

  The temple guard would not go down.

  No matter how grievous their wounds, or how many times they fell, the guards would not die.

  They could all see that now.

  ‘Open the gates!’ It was an urgent cry. ‘Open the gates!’

  Kormac shook his head, turning around. He knew that voice.

  It was coming from the other side of the gates. He blinked, listening to the battering of swords on shields. Louder and louder. A furious roar was building in the distance.

  ‘Open the gates for the King of Brekka!’

  Jael threw her knife at Baccus’ face.

  It stuck into his cheek, but he didn’t even sway.

  He barely grunted before raising his sword above his head. Jael dropped to one side, slipping on blood, losing her balance, listening to the rhythmic hum from the dreamers echoing around the chamber.

  And she remembered her dream about Gerod.

  Scooping up an abandoned spear, Jael steadied herself, ducking Baccus’ blow, before charging at him, stabbing the spear into his stomach. Dragging it straight out, she plunged it into his chest as he stumbled backwards. He would get up, she knew, but if she could just get to the dreamers, maybe they wouldn’t be able to control the guards. ‘Kill the dreamers!’ Jael roared, searching for a sword as she turned towards the circle of chanting, hooded women. ‘Kill the dreamers!’

  Gerod’s smile twisted into an enraged scowl as the Osslanders, those who could, abandoned their assault on the guards and ran after Jael. ‘Stop them!’ he screeched.

  ‘You’re going to die!’ Jael taunted, watching Gerod’s eyes twitch in fear as she found another spear and fought her way towards him. But just as she drew back the spear, she stopped and spun, ducking Baccus’ blade as it swept towards her neck. ‘Fuck! Won’t you ever die?’ she growled, turning to face him again.

  ‘Arrrhhh!’ Fyn cried as a guard drove his spear straight through his armour, into his stomach. He staggered backwards, trying to keep to his feet as the guard kicked him, knocking him to the ground.

  ‘Fyn!’ Jael screamed, raising her spear as Baccus came for her again.

  Eydis saw the book sitting on a table. A woman stood behind it.

  Not her grandmother.

  ‘Come closer, child,’ the dark-haired woman urged. ‘Come and see the book. Read the spell out loud. Draw the symbol in your blood. Hurry now!’

  Eydis ran for the table, her ears buzzing. She swallowed, leaning forward, seeing the words. ‘But, but...’ and then suddenly her arguments fell away.

  She could read them.

  ‘Cut me, Entorp!’ Eydis cried. ‘I can see! Hurry!’

  Aleksander was panicking, striding back and forth in front of the gates, but there was nothing he could do. He could smell the smoke, hear the clashing of swords, but there were no men on the ramparts.

  And the gates were locked.

  ‘Open the gates!’ he bellowed until his voice broke. He turned to Gant. ‘We have to get in there!’

  Gant pulled on his beard, just as tense, but there was nothing they could do. Their men, who had marched so fast across the fields that they were almost running, were behind them now, but they were all waiting.

  They had nothing that would open the gates.

  No way to get inside.

  ‘Fyn!’ Jael spun away from Baccus, but he was quickly in her face again, knocking her off balance. She stumbled but kept to her feet, jumping out of reach as she tried to fend him off with her spear.

  Baccus’ strength never diminished, his arms never weakened as he threw his giant sword towards her over and over again until he broke her spear in half.

  ‘Fyn!’ He didn’t answer, but Jael couldn’t look around now. The smoke was dulling her senses, and she had to concentrate hard to keep Baccus’ sword away from her stomach. Slipping past his blade, Jael punched him in the ribs, then dropped lower, stepped wide and punched him straight in the balls.

  He groaned, curling forwards, spitting through his teeth as she skipped away, sweeping the room.

  Fyn was back on his feet, but he didn’t look like he would be for much longer with a broken spear hanging out of his middle. The Osslanders were struggling to reach the dreamers at all as the guards pushed them back, creating a solid red wall in front of them.

  Jael couldn’t see Marcus anywhere.

  She reached into her sock, pulled out a knife and ran at Baccus.

  Entorp guided Eydis’ finger to the thick, wooden post he had tied Tig’s rope around. It was the only solid, clear surface he could find. ‘Draw, Eydis!’ he urged as she started chanting. ‘Draw!’

  ‘The fire!’ Branwyn screamed as she turned, watching the flames jump from the nearest building to their shelter. ‘We have to leave!’

  Tig reared up, knocking his head onto the roof and Gisila got such a fright that she let go of the puppies, who got such a fright that they ran off into the smoke, trailing their ropes behind them.

  Jael threw herself up onto Baccus. She needed to slow him down quickly and get to Fyn. Gritting her teeth, she clung to his neck with her left arm, digging her fingernails into his skin as he tried to peel her off him; bringing her knife around to stab him in the face.

  Straight through an eye.

  ‘Arrrhhh!’ he bellowed, roaring now, his head rearing up in agony as he tried to shake her loose. She drew out her knife and stuck it back into his face.

  Straight through his other eye.

  ‘Arrrhhh!’

  Jael pulled out her knife as he stumbled and she slipped, running her blade across his throat. Dropping to the ground, she left Baccus to fall, anticipating his return as she rushed towards Fyn.

  ‘Jael!’

  Jael’s head snapped to Marcus who stood in the doorway they had come through, holding Toothpick above his head. She ran towards him, weaving her way through the guards, taking her sword, watching it glint in the flames.

  The dreamers’ flinched.

  ‘Get up!’ Gerod seethed at Baccus who lay on the ground, blood draining from his face, his throat. ‘Get up!’

  But this time Baccus didn’t get up, and Jael smiled.

  Eydis.

 

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