The Burning Sea Read online

  The Burning Sea

  The Furyck Saga: Book Two

  A.E. Rayne

  For Jack

  Contents

  Also by A. E. Rayne

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  Map

  Map detail

  Prologue

  I. A Crack in the Ice

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  II. Unravelling

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  III. Saala

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  IV. The Burning Sea

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  V. Hest

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  VI. Darkness

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Epilogue

  CHARACTERS

  About the Author

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  Also by A. E. Rayne

  WINTER’S FURY

  The Furyck Saga: Book One

  Join A. E. Rayne’s mailing list

  Details at the end of the book

  Prologue

  ‘And when the Darkness comes,

  Furia’s daughter will emerge from the shadows,

  clasping the sword of light...’

  ‘Dara!’ her aunt called urgently. ‘Stop reading, please! I need to arrive in Tuura while it is still dark, so as not to be seen. And when I return, we have to leave. I must get you to safety.’

  ‘But you have to give the prophecy to Sersha!’

  ‘I will, of course. I sent a note. She will meet me.’

  ‘They need to know what will happen. They need to know how to stop her, how to stop all of it,’ Dara muttered anxiously as she rolled the scroll, her nine-year-old hands shaking with fear. ‘They have to make the sword!’

  It was all she could do. But would it be enough?

  I

  A Crack in the Ice

  1

  ‘So, that’s Aleksander?’

  Eadmund turned to his wife, but Jael was already rushing across the glistening black stones towards her grandmother who was being helped over the side of the Brekkan ship.

  ‘Jael!’ Edela’s ashen face broke into a smile as she was swept into a bone-crushing hug. ‘You’re alright!’

  Jael pulled back, happy but puzzled. ‘Alright?’ She shook her head. ‘Yes, of course. And so are you, which is even better!’ Her face froze as she turned to the figure waiting awkwardly next to Edela.

  ‘Jael.’

  That voice. So familiar.

  ‘Aleksander.’ Jael swallowed, her eyes flicking nervously towards his face. She could feel the rain misting lightly over them as they stood shivering on the beach. It was early spring, but snow was still lingering on the ground, and the air was frigid. The beach was a hive of activity as the Osslanders hurried to prepare their ships for the upcoming battle with Hest and Jael was suddenly conscious that the shipbuilder’s attention had drifted towards her. ‘Let’s get you inside, Grandmother,’ she said quickly, her deep green eyes running away from Aleksander’s dark, searching ones. ‘You look chilled to the bone!’

  ‘Well, it’s not everyone I would cross those evil straights for,’ Edela shuddered, her wrinkled face mottled with cold. ‘And yes, I haven’t felt my feet since we left Andala!’

  ‘You go with Jael, Edela,’ Aleksander mumbled. ‘I’ll see to the men and bring your chest.’

  ‘Your chest?’ Jael looked surprised. ‘Are you staying a while, then?’

  Edela glanced at Aleksander, who blinked and turned back to the ship. ‘If you’ll have me, I may,’ she croaked. ‘Anything to avoid going across that sea again in a hurry!’

  Jael frowned, thinking that her grandmother had shrunk since she had last seen her, six months ago. She wondered why they had come in two ships but resisted the urge to turn around, not wanting to catch Aleksander’s eye. She kept her gaze fixed straight ahead as she helped Edela across the slippery stones, towards the hill that led up to the fort.

  ‘Eadmund?’ Edela blinked up at the powerful-looking man waiting for them, his thick fur cloak billowing in the stiff breeze. She turned and stared at her granddaughter, a smile curling her pale lips. ‘So, the tincture worked then?’

  Jael laughed. ‘I suppose it did.’ She smiled awkwardly at her husband, who frowned at her. There was no sign of warmth in his usually cheerful hazel eyes.

  ‘Yes, it worked very well, thank you. And it is good to see you again, Edela,’ Eadmund Skalleson said politely. ‘Although, I’m not sure I even remember our first meeting.’ He took the shivering old woman’s hand and slipped it through his arm, leading her up the muddy hill.

  ‘Well, I expect you had other things on your mind, like marrying my granddaughter here,’ Edela smiled, squeezing Jael’s hand, so happy to see her again.

  ‘Or, it could have been the 20 cups of ale I had before you arrived,’ Eadmund said wryly.

  ‘Perhaps,’ Edela chuckled, shivering as low-lying clouds swallowed the sun. It had been a fair afternoon, but rain was quickly sweeping in. ‘It appears that you have come a long way since then.’

  ‘Yes,’ he murmured through tight lips. ‘I have. Hopefully, we all have.’

  Jael peered at her husband, still battling the urge to turn around and see how Aleksander was faring. Her long, dark hair, damp from the rain, clung to her angular cheekbones. Her body was tense and numb from the cold, but she could feel an unfamiliar heat burning her cheeks. Jael wasn’t sure why they had come to Oss, nor how Eadmund was going to cope with having to face Aleksander. Not now. Not when everything had fallen into place for him.

  For both of them.

  And then there was the matter of her pounding heart and her fluttering stomach.

  ‘Edela!’ Biddy scrambled out of the chair and hurried to help her inside. ‘Quick, come sit down!’

  ‘Grandmother?’ Jael peered at Edela’s face which was rapidly turning whiter than snow. ‘You don’t look well at all. Are you feeling alright?’

  ‘Yes, yes, I’m fine,’ Edela muttered, collapsing into the nearest chair, grateful for the softness of the thick furs that lined it; grateful too, for its proximity to a blazing fire. She couldn’t stop shaking.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Biddy wondered as she bent Edela forward and unpinned her wet cloak. She hung it quickly over a stool, wrapped a fur around Edela’s shoulders, and started removing her boots. ‘Are you alone?’

  ‘No, Aleksander brought me,’ Edela murmured, her voice growing fainter. She, too, looked towards the door, confused. ‘But, where has he gone?’

  ‘Aleksander?’ Biddy’s eyes widened and met Jael’s. Jael turned hers to the floor.

  Eadmund sighed. ‘I had better go and find him, so he knows where to bring the chest.’ Not looking at anyone, he ducked his head
and slipped through the door.

  Jael hurried over to Edela, ignoring Eadmund’s abrupt departure and Biddy’s furtive looks. Their large house was well insulated and warm, but Jael could see that Edela was shaking. She reached out and touched her head. ‘You’re not cold at all. You’re burning hot!’

  Biddy left Edela’s damp boots next to the fire and felt her forehead. ‘Yes, you’re very hot,’ she frowned. ‘Let’s get you into bed, and I’ll go and make something for that fever.’

  ‘Do you need some help there?’ Thorgils Svanter asked, his head cocked to one side, studying the stranger who was struggling up the hill with an old, wooden sea chest, a long line of Brekkans trailing in his wake. The king had been told about the unfamiliar ships down on his beach and had sent Thorgils to investigate.

  No one had been expecting visitors this close to their departure for Saala.

  ‘Not with the chest,’ Aleksander panted. It was a steep climb up to the fort, and the mud made it slow going. ‘But I do need to find my way around inside.’ He looked up at the thick, stone walls of King Eirik Skalleson’s fort.

  Jael’s new home.

  He didn’t want to be here.

  Thorgils frowned and reached out a hand. ‘Here, give me a handle, and I’ll show you where to go. Are you here to see someone in particular?’

  ‘Jael.’

  They both looked up.

  ‘He’s here to see Jael,’ Eadmund said matter-of-factly, staring at the tall, dark-haired figure before him. ‘This is Aleksander Lehr.’ Eadmund turned, and, without waiting for either of them, headed towards the gates. ‘I’ll show you to the hall. Your men will find food and ale there. Then we can go to the house.’

  Thorgils’ bright blue eyes popped out from under his bushy red hair as he hurried to catch up. He peered at Eadmund’s unimpressed face and back to Aleksander’s wary one. He was an unfortunately handsome man, Thorgils considered with a frown; that wasn’t going to make things any easier. ‘Ahhh, Aleksander. We’ve heard all about you, haven’t we, Eadmund?’ Thorgils smiled lightheartedly. ‘The only man who can beat Jael Furyck in a fight. Well, apart from me, that is!’

  ‘You?’ Aleksander blinked. ‘You beat Jael?’

  ‘Well, you needn’t look so surprised,’ Thorgils huffed. ‘It was a fair fight, but she proved no match for my superior skill with a sword!’

  ‘She let you win,’ Eadmund grumbled. ‘And you know it, too.’

  Thorgils looked sideways at Aleksander. ‘Well, that would be one version of events, but no matter what anyone might say, Jael has never admitted to it.’

  ‘No, she’s far too kind for that,’ Eadmund muttered.

  ‘Jael? Kind?’ Aleksander snorted. ‘In a fight?’

  Both men stopped and stared at him, unsettled by his easy familiarity with the woman they felt some ownership of. Jael was Eadmund’s wife and one of Thorgils’ closest friends.

  Aleksander didn’t know where to look.

  ‘We should go.’ Eadmund turned his head up to the darkening sky. ‘I think it’s about to piss down.’

  Aleksander nodded, lowering his eyes, not wanting another sight of the man who had taken Jael from him. Here he was, near her again, and all he wanted to do was grab her hand, run to the ships and disappear back to Andala together. He shut that thought away, knowing that it was too late now. She was lost to him.

  He had known it the moment he saw her.

  ‘Edela!’ Aleksander dropped his side of the chest to the floor and rushed over to the bed. ‘What happened?’ He looked up at Biddy who was applying a cool cloth to Edela’s forehead.

  ‘She has a fever,’ Jael said quietly as she moved out of Biddy’s way. ‘Did you not notice?’

  ‘Me?’ Aleksander looked surprised as he sat down on the bed and grasped Edela’s icy hand. He shook his head. ‘She was very quiet, but you know how much she hates the sea. I just thought it was that.’ He turned to look at Edela, his dark eyebrows pinched together in concern. Aleksander had become increasingly close to her since Jael had left Andala. She had always been like a grandmother to him, but recently she had become his closest friend.

  ‘My ears do still work you know,’ Edela grumbled, her eyes closed tight. ‘And you needn’t worry about me. No doubt all that rain and freezing water just gave me a chill.’ She coughed, and it rattled deep in her chest. ‘I shall be on my feet soon, so do not go and collect wood for my pyre just yet!’

  Jael smiled, and her eyes met Aleksander’s. She looked away, feeling that annoying heat on her face again. ‘Well, try to sleep. You look worn through. We will leave you with Biddy and come back when you’ve had a good rest.’

  ‘Alright, alright,’ Edela sighed. Her eyes felt so heavy and grainy that she had no desire to open them at all. ‘I won’t need long, I promise. I have so much to tell you...’

  Jael stared curiously at Aleksander. It was his turn to look away.

  ‘Why don’t we go to the hall?’ Eadmund suggested. ‘I’m sure you could do with a drink after your journey and my father will be getting impatient to speak to you.’ He patted Thorgils on the shoulder and headed for the door.

  Thorgils remained frozen to the spot. He had seen the looks between Jael and Aleksander, subtle as they may have been, and was certain that Eadmund had seen them too. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go to the hall with any of them. ‘That sounds like a good idea,’ he said unconvincingly, inclining his head towards the door.

  ‘Come on,’ Jael smiled at Aleksander, who seemed reluctant to leave Edela. ‘It will give Biddy a chance to think.’

  Biddy looked up from the kitchen table. She was already sorting through her dried herbs, picking out some elderberry flowers and yarrow leaves, ready to make a fever tea. ‘Yes, you go,’ she murmured distractedly. ‘Have something to eat there. Edela looks as though she needs a good rest after such a trying day.’

  Aleksander sighed, took one last look at the sleeping patient, and followed Jael to the door. ‘It’s good to see you again, Biddy.’

  Biddy’s eyes were bright as she stared at that familiar face. ‘And you. Now hurry along, and leave me to my thinking!’

  Oss’ hall was filling quickly as sodden warriors cut short their training sessions in the Pit and hurried inside to dry themselves by a warm fire with a well-earned cup of ale.

  Eirik Skalleson twirled his long, gold and white moustache as he watched Eadmund and Thorgils rush in through the doors, Thorgils shaking the rain out of his bushy head like a dog. He frowned, rolling his hands over the well-worn armrests of his wooden throne. ‘Your brother’s here,’ he muttered to Eydis, his 13-year-old daughter who sat alongside him. She was blind, and although her other senses worked better than most, she had stopped being able to smell Eadmund coming since he’d been knocked into shape by Jael over the winter; he’d never smelled so good.

  ‘And Jael?’ Eydis asked, sitting a little taller, shuffling towards the edge of her small wooden chair.

  ‘Yes, and Thorgils, and...’

  ‘And, Fyn?’ Eydis blushed, but her father was too busy frowning to notice.

  ‘No, someone new. The someone who is hopefully going to explain why two of Lothar Furyck’s ships are taking up room on my beach and why all these Brekkans are drinking in my hall!’ Eirik eased himself out of his chair with a grimace and made his way towards the stranger, who had stopped by the nearest fire.

  ‘Eadmund, Thorgils,’ Eirik nodded, taking a cup of ale from his steward. ‘Jael.’

  ‘Hello, Eirik,’ Jael said distractedly. ‘This is Aleksander Lehr. From Andala. He brought my grandmother to visit me.’

  Eirik’s eyebrows shot up, his small blue eyes full of surprise. ‘Oh, did he now?’ He peered at Aleksander. ‘And Lothar lent you two ships for that, did he?’

  Aleksander stumbled beneath his fiercesome glare. ‘I, ahhh, no. He has sent you a gift. Well, it’s from Edela, really. He wanted it safely delivered to you so you could start preparations. Edela just happened to want to come
and see Jael at the same time.’

  ‘Preparations?’ Jael’s focus sharpened. ‘For what?’

  ‘Yes, what is this gift you have brought me? Besides an old dreamer, who, I must admit, might come in very handy,’ Eirik mused, pulling on his beard, his fingers catching in the little silver nuggets braided into its white tip.

  Aleksander coughed. The salty sea had dried his throat, and his awkwardness around Jael and her husband had only worsened it. ‘I have a note from Lothar which explains it.’ He dug into the small pouch hanging from his sword belt and pulled out a rather damp looking scroll, handing it to Eirik. ‘But in short, Edela has made a weapon that should help your fleet.’

  ‘Edela?’ Jael looked confused. ‘Made a weapon?’

  Aleksander took the cup of ale Thorgils offered him, supping deeply. ‘Mmmm, she found the idea for it in an old Tuuran book. We experimented, she and I, and then took it to Lothar.’ He smiled sadly, unsettled by Edela’s sudden decline. ‘It will help, but you will need some time to prepare your ships if you are to use it. That’s why I’m here. To show you how it works.’