Chapter 19
Nineteen
W hen I woke alone, I was disappointed and a little worried. Patrick and I woke together most days. I enjoyed spending quiet mornings with him, getting cleaned up by the river and getting him settled in the cooking tent. That he was not with me when I woke was concerning. I went looking for him, my worry compounding when I saw a group of people hovering around the cooking tent. Even from outside, I could hear the raised voices of Tavik and Yamileth. But where was Patrick?
Pushing my way through the crowd, I stepped into the tent. My eyes immediately landed on Patrick, who sat on a stool in his usual spot, his gaze locked on the trio speaking nearby. Yamileth stood with her arms crossed, her glare locked on Tavik, who was throwing a tantrum of epic proportions while Orthorr listened on. Coming in late, I didn’t know the full situation, but what little I heard was surprising.
“She should be banished!” Tavik demanded.
Yamileth snorted, raising an eyebrow at him. “And who then would feed the clan?”
She had a point. Whatever she had done, it was unlikely that Orthorr would send her anywhere. She was necessary to the clan. No one else could cook like she could, especially not for such a large number of people. We had been spoiled for many years since she became the clan cook.
“No one is getting banished,” Orthorr insisted, putting his hands up in a calming gesture. “Yami, will you tell me why?—”
“It does not matter why!” Tavik bellowed. “She poisoned me!”
My mouth fell open in shock. “She what?”
All eyes swung to me. Ordinarily, joining in on clan matters without Orthorr’s invitation would not be allowed. But Orthorr knew why I was here. He tipped his head toward Patrick, allowing me to move to Patrick’s side to protect him in case Tavik did something stupid. Just in time too, since Tavik’s focus swung Patrick’s way once I got close to him. He jabbed a finger at Patrick, baring his teeth at him.
“This is your fault! You are so weak that you could not take a joke so you went crying to the elders and turned them against me! You should not even be here! You are not clan! Verus should have left you in the woods to the shadowstalker!”
Moving in front of Patrick protectively, I glared at Tavik. “Choose your next words carefully. You lie to save face. Your cruel words were no joke. You are right that Yami should not have been the one to deal with you. It is me you should have faced. I am more than happy to correct that error now.”
I heard Patrick’s gasp, felt his hand fist in the back of my tunic. He was worried for me, probably because Tavik was bigger than I was. That didn’t matter. He was an idiot and not a good fighter. Rath’s father taught me to fight well when we were boys. Rath and I still practiced together several times a week. I had no fear of Tavik.
“Enough,” Orthorr barked. “Someone will explain to me what happened now, or you both will face the consequences.”
Tavik opened his mouth, but Orthorr interrupted him with a glare. “Not you. You have said enough.”
Orthorr’s gaze shifted to me, silently demanding that I speak.
“Tavik called Patrick many cruel things, thinking he could get away with it because Patrick is not a tribute. Had I not had Patrick to protect, I would have handled it between us.”
Tavik opened his mouth to argue with me, but a dark look from Orthorr made his jaw snap shut again. He knew better than to talk back to our clan leader. That could get you banished or demoted. He could be on trench duty for months for the insult alone.
“So you walked away to protect Patrick. Why then is Tavik accusing Yamileth of poisoning him?”
I did not have an answer for that. I hadn’t known she intended to get involved. Had I known, I would have requested she not. She was getting older and frail, and Tavik was emotional when angry. I didn't want him lashing out and hurting her.
All eyes swung to Yamileth, who crossed her arms over her chest, her chin lifted in defiance. “He made Patrick cry. He deserved what he got.”
Orthorr’s sigh was long suffering when he asked, “What did you do exactly?”
“I added visek to his meals. If so much shit was coming from his mouth, I felt it necessary to give him assistance to clear it out. He is here complaining from embarrassment, not pain.”
I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. Visek was a healing herb, usually given in small amounts to clan members after a long hunt if they got backed up. If she laced his food with it, Tavik probably spent hours, or maybe even days at the trench dealing with the consequences. How long depended entirely on how many meals he got from her between now and when she began to torment him.
“Verus,” Orthorr scolded, though I could see the way his lips twitched. He was fighting back his own laugh. Meanwhile, Tavik looked close to losing it. His face was bright red, and he looked ready to explode.
“This is not funny! You say I am cruel, and yet she can do things like this without consequences?” he snarled.
Clearing his throat, Orthorr shook his head. “No one said she would be without consequences. Yamileth, you will choose two others to help you and Patrick with the cooking. They will watch over you to make sure you aren’t tampering with other people’s meals.”
Yamileth glowered, but didn’t argue. She hated people in her cooking tent. She thought them bothers who would only get in her way. Only Patrick ever won her over enough to allow her to let him assist.
“Fine. But he is still not allowed back in here,” she snapped, pointing an accusing finger at Tavik. “He sent his little cohort in here to accost Patrick. They do not deserve to be fed by the clan. They can feed themselves.”
Orthorr’s brows furrowed, and he turned to look at Tavik again. “Care to explain yourself?”
I wanted him to speak up too. I felt the distinct urge to go hunting for Saneth for such actions.
Tavik refused to speak, his lips pressed together in a thin line. That got him a dark look from Orthorr, but he didn’t waste his time demanding it. Instead he turned to Patrick, still mostly hidden behind me.
“Verus, move so I can see him.”
Reluctantly, I side stepped to give Orthorr room to see my ravsol without moving from the path between Tavik and Patrick. I still didn't trust him. Patrick looked worried, his hand still clinging to my tunic and his body hunched in on itself. Like he was afraid he would be hurt. I took his free hand and kissed the back of it.
“You are safe, my Patrick. Tell Orthorr what happened.”
Patrick’s hand tightened in mine, and I could see his gaze dart to the tent flap. He wanted to run away. But when his gaze returned to me, he shored up his courage and drew in a deep breath, forcing himself to look up at Orthorr.
“I woke early this morning to come here. I hoped to cook something for Verus before he left on the long hunt. I hadn’t even begun when Saneth joined me. He accused me of causing trouble and poisoning Tavik. He said he was going to prove it, but when he searched me and found nothing on me, he?—”
“He touched you?” I snarled, launching to my feet. I fully intended to go after Saneth for even looking at Patrick, but Orthorr put a hand on my shoulder, shoving me back down.
“Do not leave Patrick while he is frightened because of bloodlust,” Orthorr ordered. “Keep going, Patrick. What happened next?”
Patrick looked worriedly at Yamileth, who shook her head. “Tell him, Patrick. He knows already that I am responsible for Tavik’s punishment.”
“It was not a punishment!” Tavik shouted. “It was poisoning! I did nothing to deserve it! It is not my fault he is?—”
He did not have time to finish his sentence before I lunged at him, tackling him to the ground. I would not allow him to say one more insult toward Patrick. No one was allowed to hurt my ravsol.
I only got two good punches in before Tavik came out of his shocked stupor and fought back. His meaty fist hit my jaw, sending me sprawling, but I was quick to recover, grabbing the arm that reached for me and twisting it behind his back. I was shoving his face into the dirt floor when two brothers who had been watching just outside grabbed me, hauling me off of Tavik. Two more stopped him before he could come after me again, holding him back with dark looks in their eyes. Should he keep pushing, they would lay him out without issue. I could only wish that he would test them. It would be a glory to watch.
“Remove them both,” Orthorr ordered. “I will speak to Patrick alone.”
Shaking off the hold of my brothers, I stomped out, stopping alongside Rath who stood near the entrance. “Watch over him,” I requested under my breath.
Rath dipped his chin once, slipping into the cooking tent with Finn following behind him. If I could trust anyone to watch over Patrick, it was Rath. He would keep Patrick safe until I could get to him again. In the meantime, I would make sure no one else was stupid enough to speak ill of him again.