Hallow wood, p.31
Hallow Wood, page 31
part #4 of The Furyck Saga Series
Marcus released her and stepped away. ‘Jael told me what you tried to do. That it didn’t work.’
Hanna looked crestfallen. ‘No, it didn’t. It didn’t work at all.’
‘Well, you were brave to try. It was a dangerous thing to attempt.’
Hanna’s blue eyes filled with more tears. ‘It was, it turns out, but not for me. Berard Dragos lost his arm trying to take the book away from his brother. Jaeger cut it off, and killed his father.’
Marcus frowned. ‘The book has claimed him, that much is obvious. For a man to hurt his own family like that?’ He inhaled sharply. ‘We do not know much about the book, except the one thing that matters. Whoever claims it and whoever it claims will try to bring an end to everything we know. One way or the other.’
‘Do you have something from Eadmund?’ Draguta asked, reaching over the table towards Evaine. ‘Give it to me. Everything you have.’
Evaine dug into her purse and pulled out the lock of Eadmund’s sandy hair that she had tied to a small leather strap. She gave it to Draguta, then dipped her hand into her purse again and took out one of his arm-rings. She had taken both items from Eadmund while he was sleeping. They were precious to her, but she had no hesitation in handing them over. She would do anything to be reunited with him. The pain of their separation was excruciating.
‘Good,’ Draguta smiled, passing them to Morana. ‘That is just what we need to begin. You and Eadmund are connected by an invisible thread. From his soul to yours. And when Morana pulls hard enough, she will bring him hurrying to your side. Nothing will stop him once she starts pulling on that thread. He will fight anyone who tries to stop him from getting to you.’
Morana wriggled impatiently on her chair, sweltering in the intense heat of the chamber.
‘Let us begin,’ Draguta murmured, nodding at Morana who stood and dipped the beeswax candle into the burning lamp, watching as it caught. She placed it in the centre of the small circle of symbols she had drawn on the table and closed her eyes, breathing deeply, inhaling the fragrant smoke from the fire.
Chanting in a low, rhythmic voice.
Draguta focused on Morana, watching as her face contorted, a frown digging deep between her wild eyebrows.
Eventually, Morana opened her eyes. ‘There is no way through. It’s as though he’s hidden behind a door. A locked door. I cannot get through to him.’ Morana was puzzled. ‘Symbols,’ she realised. ‘They are using symbols to shut me out as well.’
Draguta stood immediately, without a word, and picked up Eadmund’s lock of hair and arm-ring, throwing them at the wall. Turning around to the three women, she hissed with fury. ‘Leave! Now!’
Evaine, Morana, and Meena scrambled to their feet in a rush as Draguta stormed around the chamber, sweeping candles and ornaments from the tables, her temper exploding in a blinding rage. ‘You think you’re better at this game than me, do you? Well, we shall see about that!’
27
Getta went into labour during breakfast, and Raymon had paced around the fort all day and all through the night, unable to eat, too distracted to think. Ravenna had kept her son company, trying to reassure him that the length of time it was taking for his child to arrive was perfectly normal. But Raymon had remained in a constant state of anxiety.
Women died giving birth. Ladies, servants, queens.
Women died giving birth, and as much as Raymon was desperate for sons, he did not wish to sacrifice his wife for the pleasure of filling his hall with heirs.
‘She is tired,’ Ravenna said gently, watching from the ramparts as the sun made its slow climb into the sky. ‘But very strong. She is a Furyck. They have strong women in that family.’
Raymon frowned, not enjoying the reminder of their neighbour’s strength.
‘You are so stubborn,’ Ravenna laughed. ‘The Furycks are not our enemies. We have fought alongside one another. Our families have been close friends. If you refuse to help them now, you’ll be making a grave mistake. One your wife and child may suffer for.’
Raymon yawned, suddenly aware that he had been awake all night. ‘What do you mean?’
Ravenna doubted that she could pierce the veil Getta had hidden her son beneath, but she had to try. ‘Getta wants revenge. She wants to hold her cousins accountable for what they have done. But how do you know who was to blame? Lothar was an embarrassment to his family. His own father banished him. He led your father to make foolish decisions. He was always buzzing in his ear, convincing Hugo that his ideas were the best for Iskavall. But Lothar was only ever interested in enriching himself. And when Ranuf died, he stole the throne and ruled Brekka like a greedy tyrant. Osbert was no better. What makes you think that they were the victims in any of this?’
Raymon thought of Getta. She was everything to him, but he knew that his mother was right. Many in Iskavall suspected that Hugo Vandaal’s trust in Lothar, as his right-hand man, had ultimately led to his murder.
Yet, Getta was determined to see her cousins punished for her father’s death, not rewarded with their help. He turned to his mother, readying another impassioned defense of his wife when he noticed that Getta’s servant had joined them on the ramparts.
‘My lord,’ the old lady panted as she waddled towards them. ‘You must come. Now!’
‘But what if Eadmund drinks the wine?’
‘He won’t.’
‘You’ve seen this?’
‘Of course I’ve seen it!’ she grumbled. ‘He will not drink the wine. She will serve him. He will wait for her. She will die.’
Morac sucked in a breath, almost choking on the putrid stench emanating from his sister’s cauldron. ‘And if Eadmund finds out that it was me?’
Morana snorted derisively. ‘Why would he even think to suspect you?’ She leaned forward and handed Morac the tiny, glass vial. ‘When I have spent all these years turning him against his own brother? Ivaar is all he sees now when anything goes wrong. Ivaar is the one he blames for everything. He is blind to anyone else. He loves Melaena. He hates Ivaar. He will be overwhelmed with pain. He will blame his brother, as he’s always done, and slip away from his father, into a self-pitying abyss. I have seen how it will go, Brother,’ she smiled.
Morac took the vial, slipping it inside his pouch. He frowned. Eirik was his best friend. Eirik loved Eadmund.
If he were to make a mistake...
Morana scowled, irritated by his hesitation. ‘We must end this marriage before it even begins! We must break Eadmund! It is what I have been tasked with. When Evaine is old enough, he will be hers. Until then, he will fall into a thousand broken-hearted pieces, waiting to be picked up and put back together again. He is ours, and soon he will be Evaine’s. He will never be free of us!’
Jael jerked awake, panting.
Opening her eyes, she saw that it was well past dawn. She yawned, stretching her arms above her head, relieved it wasn’t raining.
‘I thought you’d never wake up!’ Aleksander called from under a tree, where he was feeding apples to the horses. ‘Who knew the ground could be so comfortable?’
Jael didn’t say anything as she hurried to wrap her cloak around herself. They had slept in a small, damp cave, and it was cold.
‘Jael?’
Jael was still half asleep as she made her way to the fire. Her body felt stiff after sitting in the saddle all day. Unused to so much riding. ‘I had a dream.’
Aleksander laughed. ‘I’m beginning to see a pattern here.’
‘Well, do you want to know about it or not?’ Jael grumbled.
Aleksander patted Sky, leaving her to finish munching her apple, and came to join Jael by the fire, picking up a long stick to poke the burning logs, wanting to see a few more flames. ‘What did you dream about, then?’
‘Nothing to help us, but it’s another piece of the puzzle,’ Jael said, and she told him about her dream. About how Morana and Morac had plotted to poison Eadmund’s first wife, twisting it so that any blame would fall on Ivaar.
Aleksander handed Jael a water bag. ‘And Eadmund blamed his brother for her death?’
Jael nodded, taking a long drink. ‘It’s why Ivaar was banished from Oss. It’s why he wanted to take his revenge on Eadmund, and why Eadmund fell apart. Morac Gallas killed his wife.’
‘No wonder he ran away from Oss. Morana probably told him that you were coming for him now that you’re a dreamer,’ he said, picking up a handful of some of the berries he’d collected. ‘Here, having listened to your stomach rumbling all night, I thought I’d better get up and find you something more to eat.’
‘I’m sure your snoring was louder than my stomach, but thank you.’ Jael took the berries, thinking of Eadmund. She felt a burst of anger. Morana and Morac had conspired to take his wife and his father from him. And, if Eirik was right, Morana likely had something to do with his mother’s death as well. Taking a deep breath, Jael tried to calm herself down. There was nothing she could do about it now. ‘How long till we get to the wood, do you think?’
‘Hopefully, tomorrow morning. And then maybe another two days to her cottage. It will get tougher the closer we get, from memory. It’s a real tangle of trees in there.’ He wasn’t looking forward to it.
Jael wasn’t really listening, though. She was remembering the glee on Morana Gallas’ face as she talked about Eadmund.
Of how he’d never be free.
Meena rolled over and came face to face with Jaeger, who frowned in disappointment. She was not Evaine Gallas, and he had been dreaming about Evaine Gallas all night long.
But Meena didn’t mind his frown because she’d had a dream.
‘Why do you look so happy?’ Jaeger grunted, pulling her towards him. ‘And what happened to your hair?’ He kissed her roughly, pressing himself against her.
Meena squirmed, forcing herself to kiss him back, tasting the sour tang of wine on his breath as his bristles scratched her lips. ‘Else brushed it.’
‘Who?’
‘Your servant,’ Meena mumbled between kisses.
‘Oh. Why?’
Meena didn’t know why. She shrugged, feeling Jaeger’s warm hand slip up the inside of her thigh.
He stopped suddenly. ‘Did you have a dream?’
Meena tried to look into his eyes. His nose was almost touching hers, and she felt trapped. She swallowed. ‘No, but I think I can try tonight. I read about it. About how to do it.’
‘Good,’ Jaeger murmured. ‘That is good, Meena.’ He kissed her again.
‘But what should I dream about?’ Meena wondered, hoping to distract him.
Jaeger was instantly distracted. ‘Well, that is a good question. Hmmm...’ He rolled away from her, lying back on the pillow.
‘Varna’s book said that I need something. A thing to help me dream. Something to hold onto or put under my pillow.’
‘Oh, well, it can’t be the book, then,’ Jaeger smiled, his eyes narrowed into slits. ‘Unless... what if you were to touch it? Would that work?’
Meena didn’t think so. She vigorously shook her head, hoping to dissuade him from that idea.
‘But we could try,’ Jaeger said eagerly, desperate to touch the book himself. ‘And we could take something from Draguta’s chamber. I’ve heard that she only wears her dresses once.’ He sat up, energised. ‘We’ll sneak into her chamber to touch the book, then we’ll find one of her old dresses, and tonight you’ll dream!’
Meena opened her mouth, wondering what she had walked into. After her dream, she was beginning to think that she might be a real dreamer, but not one part of her wanted to dream about Draguta and the Book of Darkness.
Shivering, she closed her eyes as Jaeger crawled towards her again.
Evaine knocked impatiently on Morana’s door.
She had gone down to the hall for breakfast, only to discover that no one else was awake. Or, if they were, they were not eating their breakfast in the hall. She quickly ate a few hotcakes and hurried up to her mother’s chamber to find out what was going on.
Morana yanked open the door and glared at her, not appreciating the interruption, the company, or the angry sneer on Evaine’s face. ‘Yes?’
‘What is happening?’ Evaine demanded, pushing past Morana and striding into the dark chamber. ‘No one was in the hall. No one!’ She rounded on her mother. ‘Where is Draguta? What is going to happen with Eadmund? You’ve made me leave him behind, and now he’s trapped! Trapped with that bitch! You’ve given him to her!’
Morana wanted to cover her ears or slap Evaine across the face to make her shut up, but she patiently bit her tongue and crept back to her cauldron instead. ‘Have you finished?’ she grumbled when Evaine finally took a breath. ‘Do you require any answers to your questions or would you just prefer to listen to the awful sound of your own voice?’
Evaine looked suitably insulted, and she could see that Morana had no intention of saying anything until she calmed down. It took some time, but eventually, Evaine dragged a stool towards the fire and sat down. It was a cold, miserable chamber, and it reminded Evaine of being on Oss, and that reminded her of Eadmund and her eyes brimmed with tears. ‘Where is Draguta?’ she asked dolefully. ‘When will she find a way to bring Eadmund here?’
Morana lifted the cauldron and tipped the steaming water over the dandelion flowers and poppy seeds she had placed in the bottom of her cup. Slipping it back onto its hook, she sat down on her stool with a groan. ‘I don’t know the answer to either of those questions. I imagine she’s dreaming. I had no dreams myself, so I have no answers for you. Why not try knocking on Draguta’s door? That would teach you a lesson!’
Evaine was furious.
Morana didn’t care.
They sat in silence, simmering, both of them too irritated to speak.
‘What can we do?’ Evaine asked eventually, her voice a plaintive whisper. ‘I don’t want to lose Eadmund.’
Morana snorted. ‘The spell has not been broken. It cannot be broken. A spell like that? I dare anyone to break it! No, the spell is not broken, so there will be a way through, and Draguta will find it. Best you think of something to do while you’re waiting. Having seen what Draguta does to people who irritate her, I suggest you try not to become one of those people!’
Evaine sucked on her bottom lip and sighed.
Eydis could hear Thorgils laughing with Bram, and it made her smile. They were sitting opposite her. Isaura sat to her right, fussing over the children, and Eadmund was on her left.
He had barely said a word since they’d started breakfast.
Eydis didn’t know what to say to make him speak to her. She remembered how it used to be when he called her Little Thing. When he sounded as though he was smiling, despite the pain in his broken heart. No matter how he felt, he had always made an effort to talk to her. To be around her and look after her. But now, when Eydis saw him in her dreams, he looked like a stranger.
Her images of him were growing faint, and it worried her.
‘Well, we lived through another night!’ Thorgils grinned.
Isaura glared at him, inclining her head towards the children, two of whom were gaping at him in horror. The other two were far too busy protesting the food on offer to even hear him.
Thorgils looked suitably embarrassed and turned his attention to Eydis. ‘How about you, Miss Eydis... did you have any helpful dreams?’
Eydis shook her head quickly, not wanting to think about her dreams, which had been full of her unhappy brother. She could see the threads pulling him away from them all, but she couldn’t see a way to cut them.
Isaura smiled as Ayla walked towards them with Runa. ‘Perhaps Ayla did?’ she wondered, sensing Eydis’ distress and cursing Thorgils’ big mouth again. ‘I imagine you’d get rather tired if you were always working on finding dreams while you’re asleep!’
Eydis tried to smile, but she felt an increasing sense of dread. They were waiting for something terrifying to happen; knowing that it would come, but not knowing when.
But it was coming. Of that, Eydis was certain.
Raymon could feel his heart throbbing with joy as he cradled his mewling son. He felt nervous holding such a tiny, helpless creature but overcome with relief that both his son and his wife were safe.
They would name him Lothar. Lothar Vandaal, heir to the throne of Iskavall. Raymon thought back to his conversation with his mother and knew what she would think of that. He wondered what he thought of it himself, but Getta had endured so much to bring the baby into the world that he did not want to complain, though he had assumed they would name him Hugo, after his own father.
Getta looked exhausted. And pale. Raymon handed the baby to the wet nurse and hurried to her side. ‘You had a hard time,’ he said quietly, running a hand over her lank, brown hair. ‘You must rest now.’
The baby squawked hungrily, and Getta’s attention was immediately diverted to him. ‘Maya, bring him to me,’ she urged. ‘I shall feed him.’
Raymon was surprised, having thought that his wife would use a wet nurse as most ladies did, but Getta seemed eager to tend to her son herself. ‘Is there anything you need, my love?’ he asked as she sat up, trying to move into a more comfortable position.
Getta ignored him as she took the baby, lying him across a pillow, his small, furry head resting in her hand. ‘You should go,’ she muttered wearily. ‘I need to concentrate now.’ And, grimacing, she tried to force the baby’s mouth onto her nipple.
Raymon felt a strange jolt of jealousy. His wife was asking him to leave his own chamber, preferring the company of his son. He shook his head, realising that he was being childish. ‘Of course,’ he murmured, backing out of the room. Reaching for the door, he paused, watching Getta with their son.
It was everything he had dreamed of, and he would do anything to protect them.
