Chapter 21
At the sound of Raye’s voice, Kalfr and Gaelfr both stilled, and snapped their heads toward her. Gaelfr’s eyes narrow, angry, while Kalfr’s were… wide again. Hunted. Afraid.
As if he too was remembering that long-ago night. As if he’d also had those horrible dreams, reliving what had come next. Raye sweeping her cottage door open, and pummelling him with her own fear, her own fury. I never, ever want to see either of you again, as long as I fucking live.
Raye flinched, and it took too long to find her voice. “It’s just — Svein,” she rasped. “The other night, when we —” She had to pause, reorient again. “He’ll smell the blood. He’ll wake up, and be… distressed.”
Both Kalfr and Gaelfr stared at her, with startlingly similar unblinking eyes, as if they didn’t understand, so Raye drew down another breath, and tried again.
“Svein’s just… met you,” she continued, holding Kalfr’s gaze.
“After wanting to, for so long. If he wakes up now, to the smell of your blood, he’s likely to be quite distraught, and you’ll need to have some conversations you perhaps didn’t want to have yet. So can you just…”
Kalfr and Gaelfr both kept staring at her, and Raye attempted a smile that felt more like a grimace. “Take it upstairs, perhaps?” she finished helplessly. “Outside? How far can orcs actually smell these things?”
Kalfr twitched beneath Gaelfr, his brow slowly furrowing, while sudden comprehension flared across Gaelfr’s eyes. “Ach,” he said gruffly. “This is truth. It is good that you thought of this, woman.”
His eyes held to Raye’s for another instant, glinting with distinct satisfaction, while beneath him, Kalfr still looked confused, or maybe disbelieving.
Enough that Gaelfr’s gaze darted down toward him, and he gave a light pat to his cheek.
“Later, then,” he murmured. “After we have spoken to our son of this.”
Kalfr’s eyes widened, and maybe Raye’s did, too.
Gaelfr fully meant to continue this? And to talk to Svein about it?
But yes, clearly, he did, glancing between Kalfr and Raye with something like a challenge in his eyes, even as his hand stroked against Kalfr’s neck with familiar, possessive purpose.
Right. Raye had to glance away, dragging for breath, fighting down a sudden, swinging jealousy.
Whatever this was, or wherever it was heading, it was all too clear that Kalfr and Gaelfr still cared about each other.
Still wanted each other. And why wouldn’t they pick up where they’d left off?
Why wouldn’t they leave her here watching, alone, yet again?
And why did she care, Gaelfr was still leaving, and Kalfr still hated her…
But — no. It didn’t matter. She needed them. She needed their help, for Svein. And at least she’d had the presence of mind to avert another potential meltdown, with Svein flying awake to fears of his newfound father dying while he slept.
The thought of that roiled in Raye’s gut too, swarmed with that strangely sickening memory of Kalfr saying, Do it. Finish it. It is what I deserve. What the goddess would wish.
“And also,” Raye made herself say, in a voice that didn’t sound like hers. “I need to… to apologize. To you.”
Her voice cracked, but she’d said it. And now the words hung there, heavy and menacing, ready to crush her under their weight.
Kalfr and Gaelfr hadn’t moved, both just gazing back toward her with unreadable eyes, and Raye drew in a deep, ragged breath. “I’m — sorry,” she said, in a rush. “To both of you, but especially — to you, Kalfr.”
Kalfr kept blinking at her, though he slowly eased upright to sit on the floor, with Gaelfr shoving up close beside him. Both of them still united, both against her. And she could say this, she could do this, for Svein…
“I should… never have barred you from Svein’s life,” she continued, hoarse, toward Kalfr’s watching face.
“I should never have kept you two apart like that, for all that time. And I especially should never have threatened to take Svein across the sea, where you could never see him or scent him again. I took all those precious years of his life away from you, all those memories, and” — another shaky breath — “you’ll never, ever get them back. ”
The truth of it hitched in her voice, prickled behind her eyes, because how would she have borne it, to have missed Svein’s entire life, all that time? To have had all those irreplaceable years stolen away from her, by someone who had once sworn to love her, and honour her?
“I was — wrong,” she gritted out, still holding Kalfr’s eyes. “I broke my vows to you. I hurt you, and I… I hurt Svein, too. He’s wanted a father so much, all this time. And I put him at risk, brought him genuine harm, because —”
Gods, she couldn’t say it, couldn’t bear to look at Kalfr for another breath, and she swallowed hard, blinked toward the floor.
“Because I was afraid,” she continued, quiet.
“I was so terrified, with the war. I thought you would steal Svein away from me. I thought he would be drawn into the war, or hurt, or killed. I thought I would lose him to Orc Mountain forever. I thought —”
Her voice broke, because yes, she’d thought all that — but then the war had ended.
And even then, she hadn’t been willing to hear Kalfr’s pleas, or read his letters, or reconsider her position.
Even after he’d shown her, year after year, that he hadn’t meant to hurt Svein.
That he’d wanted to help Svein, to be part of his life.
So all that time, how much of Raye’s anger had truly been about… Gaelfr? About her own hurt? Her own jealousy? Her own revenge?
“I was… stubborn,” she finally whispered, with a slow sigh. “And selfish, and greedy, and… jealous. I have… so many regrets. I’m — so sorry.”
It sounded so paltry, so pathetic, beneath the ever-growing weight of what she’d done.
In her fear and jealousy and hurt, she’d broken apart her own family.
She’d harmed and endangered her innocent son.
She’d kept him from a father who would clearly have nurtured him, and cared for him, and treated him with warmth and kindness.
She’d… failed.
“I realize it’s no help now,” she added, toward the floor.
“And that you’ll likely never forgive me.
But… if it wasn’t already clear, Kalfr, you’re free of any vows you made toward me, especially that one you made about Gaelfr.
And if there’s ever anything — anything — I could do for you, to try to make it up to you… I will. I will.”
The silence hovered after her words, thick and overpowering, and Raye forced her wet eyes back up, to where Kalfr and Gaelfr were now both standing, and staring at her. Gaelfr with approval in his eyes, but Kalfr’s eyes were now narrow, intent, glinting with… with…
“I swear to you, Kalfr,” Raye whispered, pleading. “I promise you, before your goddess. I’ll do — whatever it takes.”
And gods curse her, crush her, because what was she saying? What was she promising? She didn’t need to go this far, to offer this much. Kalfr had still hurt her too, he’d kept secrets from her, he’d betrayed her with Gaelfr in her front garden…
But again — she needed this. She needed them, for Svein. She needed to do everything within her power to protect Svein, and keep him safe.
And maybe Kalfr saw that. Maybe he knew that. Maybe that was why his eyes kept glinting like that, harder and colder, and his lip curled with something much like contempt.
“There is no need, Raye,” he finally replied, his voice clipped and low. “No need for your promises, or your apologies. For there is naught you could ever, ever do, to atone for all you have done.”
Oh. It struck Raye like a blow, like a slap across the face, and she couldn’t hide her flinch, her arms instinctively covering her chest. Naught you could ever, ever do.
And she deserved that, she did, and where did that leave her now?
What would she do next? And why were her eyes so painfully stinging, her lip dangerously wobbling, and she couldn’t bear to weep in front of them, she couldn’t…
I should never have dreamt he could find worse than you.
“I… I know,” she replied, wavering, toward Kalfr’s booted feet. “I… understand. I’ll… stay well out of your way, then, until we leave.”
There was no answer from Kalfr, no kindness, no acknowledgement, and in the silence, something new quivered through Raye’s body. Something cold, and slimy, and sickening enough to churn bile into her throat. He hated her. He hated her. Nothing she could do.
“I’ll just… go keep an eye on Svein, then,” she said, with an audible gulp. “You two go on, and… enjoy yourselves.”
And before Kalfr could say anything else, make it any worse, Raye stumbled around, and fled.