Chapter 17
Kalfr was here. Here.
Raye’s heartbeat barrelled through her ears, her chest, her breath. Kalfr was here. Only a few short steps away.
And he was — alone. No other woman, no other orcs. The awareness granted Raye a faint, shaky relief in the chaos, in the wild shouting terror reeling all through her body. What would Kalfr do? What would he say? Would he hate them? He wasn’t even moving, why wasn’t he moving?
But then, in a jolting movement, Kalfr strode forward, into the light.
Revealing — oh. His gleaming charcoal skin.
His tightly bound black hair. His tall, lean, bare-chested body, still moving with fluid, graceful ease.
And his face, just as handsome and striking as ever, with a straight nose, strong cheekbones, and a full, expressive mouth.
But he also looked… older. Wearier. Just like in the portrait, with the hollower cheeks, the new lines bracketing his eyes and mouth, furrowing his forehead. Looking wrong on him, out of place, and…
And… he looked at Raye. His dark shadowed eyes catching hers, holding, for only a breath — but in that instant, Raye froze all over, as waves of ice and heat charged through her body.
Her heartbeat now thundered so hard she felt dizzy, the tension wrenching so tight she wanted to sob, or maybe scream. What would he say, what would he do?
But then his gaze flicked away, toward Gaelfr.
Holding brief but intent there, too, his nostrils flaring, while something twisted on his mouth.
But only for a breath, because finally, he looked at Svein.
At where Svein was still clinging to Gaelfr’s side, and staring back at Kalfr with wide, terrified eyes.
But at the sight, something changed on Kalfr’s face. Something flickering, softening. And he held out his hand, his black claws drawn fully in, his long fingers slightly trembling in the air.
“Hallo, Svein,” he said, his voice still just as low and smooth as Raye remembered it. “It is such an honour to meet you, my son. Such a great gift from the goddess.”
That last part was exactly what Gaelfr had told Svein only moments ago, the words ringing through Raye’s ears. And after an instant’s stillness, Svein shoved down from Gaelfr’s side, and… ran. Dashing across the small space toward Kalfr, and then throwing himself straight into Kalfr’s open arms.
“You came,” he choked, muffled, into Kalfr’s chest. “You finally came, Papa.”
Kalfr instantly circled his arms around Svein, inhaling deep against his hair, squeezing him tight to his chest. “Ach, my son,” he croaked. “Ach. Not a day has passed that I did not miss you.”
Svein sniffled, and drew back to blink at Kalfr’s face. “Really?” he asked, high-pitched. “Did you miss me as much as I missed you?”
Kalfr rapidly nodded, as both his hands snapped up, and cradled Svein’s face. “Ach, more,” he whispered back. “I have missed you so much, my son. I have always, always loved you.”
Oh. Oh gods, oh please, Raye’s sobs juddering too close in her throat, fighting to escape.
While the rest of her body still felt frozen, trapped, lost in the sight of Svein fervently nodding, and hurling himself back into Kalfr’s waiting arms. As if he’d never once doubted that Kalfr had always loved him, all along.
“I love the swords you sent,” Svein gulped, burying his face in Kalfr’s shoulder. “And the furs. And the book. I read it every night, I —”
But then he broke into great, gasping sobs, weeping into Kalfr’s shoulder, and oh, Kalfr was weeping too, rocking Svein back and forth.
Squeezing him even tighter against him, his hands still trembling against Svein’s tunic, while water streaked down his cheeks, and the sobs heaved through his shoulders.
The tears finally escaped Raye’s eyes too, her own sobs quietly quaking through her chest. Gods, what had she done?
How had she ever thought she could — or should — keep Kalfr and Svein apart?
Fuck, they even looked so much the same, their hair, their builds, the rich shade of their skin.
Even the way they clung to each other, dragging in each other’s scents.
Like they’d both just escaped some unimaginable cruelty, and it was cruelty Raye had wrought, and rained down upon them.
She barely noticed the feel of Gaelfr’s hand, circling around her waist. But when she managed a glance toward him, he was watching Kalfr and Svein too, his eyes bright and blinking, his breath shuddering out.
And Raye could almost taste the depth of his relief, and his loss, and his longing.
How much he wished he was part of this, with his ástvinur, and his son.
But Kalfr’s attention was still fully on Svein, and he drew back to blink at him again, wiping the tears from Svein’s flushed cheeks.
“Ach, just look at you, my son,” he rasped.
“Already so tall, and so handsome! And your scent” — he inhaled, gave Svein a wavering smile — “ach. It is perfect, my son. You are perfect.”
Svein sniffled and scrubbed his face, but slowly smiled back.
His own bright, beautiful smile, so stunning and contagious that Kalfr sharply inhaled, and smiled again, too.
Broader and more genuine this time, lighting up his entire face — and making him look so suddenly like Svein that Raye had to glance away, gulping for air.
Gods, how had she forgotten this, too? How hadn’t she seen that it was Kalfr’s face looking at her out of Svein’s every single day?
“Now tell me, son,” Kalfr said, still smiling at Svein, even as he kept blinking, his throat convulsing. “What do you do? What do you like? How do you spend your days? And did you say you could read? Already?”
Svein’s smile flashed even brighter, and he rapidly nodded.
“Yes, I’m very good at reading!” he exclaimed.
“And I work really hard, I always help Mama with her weaving, and I help keep her safe with my scenting, and with hiding in my tunnel! And Papa Gaelfr showed me how to use your swords yesterday, and I was really good at that too, wasn’t I, Papa? ”
He angled a hopeful, shining look at Gaelfr over his shoulder, while Kalfr stilled, and followed Svein’s gaze toward Gaelfr’s face. And then further downwards, to where Gaelfr’s arm was still around Raye’s waist.
“Ach, son,” Gaelfr replied, hoarse, a beat too late, as his hand against Raye betrayed an unmistakable spasm. “You shall someday be a great Bautul warrior, I ken.”
There was another instant’s stillness, Kalfr’s eyes glinting on Gaelfr, and then on Raye, too.
But then he smiled at Svein again, and patted a hand against his hair.
“I am not at all surprised by this,” he said firmly.
“And ach, the goddess has granted you my hair, also! Do you always wear it braided thus?”
Svein shyly nodded, and again glanced over his shoulder toward Gaelfr and Raye. “Papa Gaelfr’s been doing it for me since he came,” he said, “but Mama always braids it for me, too.”
Kalfr’s eyes again followed Svein’s to Raye, holding unreadable on her face. Which — gods damn it — had to be flushed, and streaked with tears, and she hurriedly wiped at her wet cheeks, while Kalfr’s gaze dropped back to Svein again.
“I am most glad to hear this,” he told Svein, with another affectionate pat at his hair. “So I ken” — he hesitated and flicked another glance toward Gaelfr — “Papa Gaelfr has only just come to you, then?”
Svein nodded, and shot Gaelfr another warm, stunning smile over his shoulder.
“Yes, Papa Gaelfr was away across the sea!” he replied.
“But he already hunted and cooked for us, and chopped us wood, and showed me how to use your swords! Though he can’t read common-tongue, did you know that? I’m going to help him!”
Kalfr’s eyes rose to Gaelfr’s again, and held longer this time. “Ach, good thinking, son,” he said, a little too steady. “I am sure Gael shall enjoy that.”
Gael. It sounded easy, familiar, maybe even fond, and that might have been a warm glimmer in Kalfr’s eyes, too. As if he was teasing Gaelfr. As if this was a joke, an intimacy, that had long been held between them.
There was another moment’s stillness, a sustained tremble of Gaelfr’s hand against Raye’s waist. And Raye could almost feel the intensity shuddering from his stiff body beside her, could feel the effort in his inhale, the pull on his mouth. How much he wanted to smile, perhaps to answer in kind.
But Kalfr had already smiled back at Svein, though it looked strained this time. “So you have come for a visit, then?” he asked, too lightly. “Or is there aught more to this?”
He betrayed another brief glance toward Raye and Gaelfr, while Svein eagerly nodded. “Yes, we’re visiting for a few days, right, Mama?” he said, with a hopeful smile over his shoulder. “We’re trying to escape the bad men who want to kill us!”
He said it so easily, so cheerfully, while Kalfr’s smile froze on his mouth. And then the smile slowly faded, pooling away into that older, tired Kalfr, the one whose face was etched with grief. “Is this truth?” he asked, with a sharp look toward Gaelfr. “When has this happened? Why?”
Beside Raye, Gaelfr drew in a deep breath, and began explaining, his voice flat and curt.
Telling Kalfr about the men in Raye’s garden, their accusations, their threats.
While Kalfr’s expression went grimmer and angrier, and Gaelfr’s voice kept hardening, deepening into something like contempt, or even rage.
“Your mate and son were left alone to face hunger and hardship and great danger,” Gaelfr finally said, biting off each word.
“With no help nor care nor guarding, nor guidance in how to face this new threat against them. So ach, I seek to bring them to you and our mountain, so we may seek to keep them safe. And so you” — his voice deepened into a growl — “shall fulfill your sworn duty toward them!”
His voice burned through the air, vibrated into his hand still on Raye’s waist. As if he truly was furious about this, on her and Svein’s behalf. As if he was defending them. Defending her.
Raye couldn’t read that answering look on Kalfr’s face, that blankness in his eyes, the tightness in his jaw. But he slowly nodded, and rose to his feet, and raised his fist to his heart.
“I thank you, Gaelfr,” he said, without inflection. “From this day forth, I shall do my utmost to fulfill my sworn duty toward my kin, and keep them safe from harm. I swear this, before the goddess.”
They were the right words, the right reply, but it sounded so…
controlled. So hollow. Like something that either meant nothing to Kalfr, or meant more than he could bear.
And Raye didn’t miss Gaelfr’s faint flinch beside her, the way his body twitched backwards.
Maybe as if this was all he’d come for, he’d delivered them to Kalfr and earned this vow, and now he would leave.
But no. No. Gaelfr had promised. And before Raye could catch it, she gripped at his arm, held him in place. “You’ll still stay,” she said, under her breath. “For a few more days, right? You promised.”
Gaelfr stilled beneath Raye’s touch, his eyes darting to her face, and down to her hand. And then he glanced back at Kalfr, who was staring toward them with a strange, glittering intensity, his gaze held to Raye’s hand on Gaelfr’s arm.
“Ach, Papa Gaelfr,” Svein cut in, and he trotted over toward them, and slipped his hand into Gaelfr’s. “You’re still coming with us, aren’t you? Especially now that you finally get to see your ástvinur again?”
He shyly smiled back toward Kalfr, and Kalfr’s lean chest hollowed, his swallow bobbing in his throat. “Ach, come, Gael,” he said, rougher than before. “I have room enough for all of us, and” — an empty smile spread across his mouth — “it seems we all wish you there.”
His gaze flicked again toward Raye, this time holding with a sudden, burning fierceness. Sweeping waves of alarm up her spine, trembling her against Gaelfr’s hand, while her thoughts screamed with a stark, staggering certainty.
Kalfr hated her, after all. He did. But he was… hiding it. Pretending. Keeping the peace, so Raye wouldn’t take Svein away from him again. He was doing this for Svein, too.
“Where?” Raye finally asked, and it came out sharp, cold, a challenge. The first thing she’d spoken to her son’s father in four entire years, and yes, that was sheer, dizzying hatred flaring in Kalfr’s eyes, and it pounded in her heartbeat, clawed at her throat…
“I have been living at a cabin, about two leagues east from the mountain,” he replied, and though it sounded cool, civil, she could almost taste that hatred now, simmering harsh and dangerous beneath.
“The mountain now owns the land, and it is yet well within our guards’ range, and has tunnels and a garden, and even a tree house.
It shall be a safe place for your visit, well away from any men. ”
It should have been a relief. A gift. A place to stay, not far from Orc Mountain, but not too close, either. Just the kind of place Gaelfr had promised to find — and now, here Kalfr was, just offering it to them. Giving them the exact solution they’d needed.
Svein crowed with delight and skipped back toward Kalfr, demanding to know whether he really had a tree house.
To which Kalfr fondly grinned and nodded, and settled his arm around Svein’s shoulders.
Looking painfully like a father and son should, like exactly what Raye should want, and why couldn’t she breathe, why couldn’t she move…
“You will come, Raye,” Kalfr said, again meeting her gaze, and fuck, his voice, his eyes, Raye’s name on his mouth.
The way he’d said that, the way he looked at her, still with so much hatred she could choke on it.
And what did that mean, what would he do, would he have his revenge, would he trap her in his house and destroy her?
But — she needed him. She needed them. For Svein. And — Raye shot a desperate, helpless glance sideways, toward Gaelfr’s stubborn set face — Gaelfr was still with her. Gaelfr would come. He would help her, and keep her safe, for at least a few more days…
“Very well,” Raye whispered, short and strangled and defeated. “Let’s go.”