Chapter 24 #2
But perhaps Gaelfr had caught that too, because after an affectionate rustle at Svein’s hair, he strode over to Kalfr at the fire, and slid his arm around his waist. “How fare you this morn, ástin mín?” he murmured, barely loud enough for Raye to hear it. “Did you sleep well?”
Kalfr shot him a baleful look over his shoulder, and he did look tired, with deep shadows under his eyes. But he didn’t reply, and Gaelfr inhaled close against the back of his neck, before pressing a brazen kiss against it.
“No?” he asked, even softer. “Then mayhap tonight you will join us, and allow us to tend you?”
Kalfr betrayed a brief, telltale twitch, but then he glanced furtively back toward Svein, who was watching this with avid curiosity.
And when Kalfr sharply nudged Gaelfr away, Gaelfr glanced toward Svein too, and gave a firm, reassuring pat to Kalfr’s shoulder.
“Ach, I see,” he said, before turning toward Svein.
“Son, can we speak for a spell? Whilst your mother helps Papa Kalfr with breakfast?”
Raye hesitated, because surely Kalfr wouldn’t want her help? But he hadn’t argued Gaelfr’s order, and was now alternating between stoking the fire, frowning at the two pans simmering on the grate, and glancing uneasily toward where Gaelfr was guiding Svein over to the table.
“Er, maybe I could stir the pans for you, then?” Raye tentatively asked Kalfr, once she’d worked up the nerve to edge closer to the fire. “So you can focus on the fire, and whatever else you need to add?”
Kalfr jerked a shrug, so Raye crouched down beside him, into the sudden dizzying warmth of him, the impossibly rich scent.
So strong it watered in her mouth, prickled into her skin, and her hand shook as she reached for the wooden spoon, and stirred the sizzling, savoury-smelling mushrooms as carefully as she could.
While she also listened carefully behind her, to where Gaelfr had begun explaining certain sensitive matters to Svein, his voice steady and deep.
Speaking, first, about how he and Kalfr shared a bond, and how Raye and Kalfr did, also.
“And when grown orcs share a bond thus, we oft wish to deepen this, and deepen our scents upon one another,” he told Svein. “Oft through touch and closeness, but oft through taste, also. And sometimes, even through sharing our lifeblood with one another.”
Raye couldn’t hide her grimace, her uneasy glance toward Kalfr beside her — and damn it, he’d glanced at her, too.
And their eyes held for an instant too long as Svein asked, with surprising equanimity, if that was what they’d been doing the other night, when he’d awoken to the smell of Raye’s blood.
Raye grimaced again, still caught in Kalfr’s glinting, too-powerful gaze, while Gaelfr grunted his assent.
“Ach, just thus,” he said. “So if ever you scent this again, upon any of us, you shall not fear. You can be sure you are yet safe, and we are safe, also. Most of all when we are in a Bautul byrgi thus, ach?”
A Bautul byrgi? Raye blinked at Kalfr, and his eyes slid closed, as if in pain. And too late, she dragged her attention back to the pans, rapidly stirring the mushrooms before they burned.
“What’s a Bautul byrgi?” Svein asked, his voice clear and curious. “And why is Papa living at it?”
Beside Raye, Kalfr just looked tired again, the fire poker gone slack in his hand. And after another glance between him and Gaelfr, Raye cleared her throat, and gently nudged Kalfr in the side. “This is almost done, isn’t it?” she asked him. “Can we eat, and then talk about it?”
Kalfr’s mouth spasmed, but he didn’t argue.
So Raye went to fetch the plates, and next watched with rising appreciation as Kalfr blended the mushrooms with the meat, added a pinch of salt and a few more herbs, and then poured it out onto the plates with a rich amber sauce, over some kind of flatbread.
“This looks delicious,” Raye said, without meaning to. “I didn’t realize you were such an accomplished cook. You weren’t before, were you?”
Kalfr spared her an unreadable look before shaking his head and striding off toward the table, two plates in hand.
But it had been an answer, at least, so Raye followed with the other two plates, and sat down beside Svein.
And when she took her first bite, she gasped with surprise, and genuine pleasure.
“This is incredible,” she breathed. “Is this — Mirkandian potato bread? And spiced nut sauce? I haven’t eaten this since I was a child. It’s wonderful.”
Kalfr nodded, though he didn’t meet her eyes. “You did not seem to enjoy our supper, last eve,” he said stiffly. “So Svein and I sought to find aught that might better please you.”
Oh. Well. That was… surprisingly kind, and for an instant, Raye was too struck to reply, or even breathe. “Thank you,” she finally managed, with a quick smile toward Svein, too. “That is… so thoughtful of you both. And last night’s meal was delicious too, I just…”
Her voice faded, and she glanced helplessly toward Gaelfr, who was watching her with distinct approval, while also chewing his own breakfast with obvious relish.
“You only wished him to cuddle you whilst you ate it,” he said, with a smirk, and a jab of his claw toward Kalfr.
“But ach, it seems you have become a skilled cook, ástin mín, and a skilled gardener, also. I should never have expected this of you.”
Raye desperately fought to ignore that cuddling comment, while Kalfr darted Gaelfr a sharp, scathing look.
“No, really, Gael?” he asked, with polite incredulity.
“You do not think me play-acting as a farmer, and wallowing about in the dirt? Abandoning my great gifts as a warrior, and my great calling amongst our kin?”
They were Gaelfr’s own words from the day before, and he betrayed a wince, and an uneasy glance toward where Svein was watching them with keen interest. “I ken I have… much to learn upon this,” Gaelfr replied.
“And you ken I have sworn to uphold you, ástin mín, no matter what paths you take. But” — he sighed, and reached across the table to grip at Kalfr’s forearm — “ach, I have been… surprised, to find you thus. Farming, and gardening, and cooking… and most of all, doing this all alone. Here. At a new Bautul byrgi.”
The byrgi again. Kalfr exhaled, and his eyes dropped to the table in something much like defeat. Meaning that yes, Gaelfr was right, and this place was… a byrgi. Whatever the hell that meant.
“I did not even see it, at first,” Gaelfr said, with a wry smile toward Kalfr. “It has been so long since the Bautul have used them, I near forgot about them at all. Was this byrgi your scheme, ástin mín?”
Kalfr shrugged, still frowning down at the table, as if he wasn’t about to answer. But Gaelfr’s hand squeezed his arm, and after another long moment of silence, another sidelong glance at Svein, Kalfr sighed, and nodded.
“Ach, it was my scheme,” he said. “Since this peace treaty, the mountain’s other clans have sought to draw from their old ways to build strength and safety for our kin. Building camps, digging out tunnels, finding long-lost ruins. But the Bautul had naught to help with this, so…”
He didn’t finish, but Gaelfr’s hand gave an approving shake to his arm. “So you offered the byrgis,” he said firmly. “This was very clever, ástin mín. Just as I would have expected from you.”
Kalfr’s mouth twisted, but he hadn’t yet shaken off Gaelfr’s hand, and that might have been a flush, creeping up his neck.
“I was helped by our kin, also,” he replied.
“Several of our elders bore tales of this, and our brother Silfast knew the sites of many old Bautul altars all across the realm. And when I went to visit these myself, I oft found old tunnels hidden nearby. And even overgrown gardens and orchards, also.”
Gaelfr’s brows rose, as if surprised that gardens had been involved, and Raye took a breath, cleared her throat. “So these byrgis are… camps?” she carefully asked. “Or outposts?”
She directed the question toward Gaelfr, since he’d been the one to call this an outpost the day before.
But Gaelfr was still studying Kalfr, raising his brows, and finally it was Kalfr who replied.
“The byrgis are like outposts, mayhap,” he said, without looking at her.
“For as long as we have been a clan, the Bautul have fought and travelled in war-bands, each with a dozen or two warriors. But it is not easy to keep women and sons safe on the battlefield, so in ages long past, the bands would set up their kin in these byrgis. A place that seems like a simple human home from the outside, but can yet serve as a fortress for an entire war-band — and also for all their kin and sons, if this is needed.”
Raye’s heart skipped a beat, while something scraped at the back of her thoughts, too distant to catch. “So… that’s why you have so much space here, then? And the tunnels, and the rooms? And the garden and orchard, and the tree houses, and…”
Her voice trailed off, and Gaelfr gave a satisfied harrumph. “And the beacon high in the tree,” he added. “So you can signal to the mountain. And have you built more byrgis, also? Not just this one?”
Kalfr nodded, and gestured to the north and west. “Ach, near to a dozen, now,” he said. “We are seeking out all the old altars, and choosing where best to build next. With time, mayhap, our byrgis shall again be hidden all over the realm.”
That distant awareness wrenched closer in Raye’s thoughts, while Gaelfr nodded, his head tilting. “And are the byrgis all held by lone orcs, like this one?” he asked. “Or bands? Or… women?”
Or women. Women.
The certainty struck Raye to stillness, flashed bright and deadly behind her eyes, because — women. Women, holding these byrgis. Women, alone, in houses that looked innocuous, with tunnels hidden beneath. Women who orcs would come to visit. Women with orc sons.
And that was what those awful mercenaries had been seeking. The mercenaries who’d been spying on her. Who’d threatened her.
The orcs have been using fool women like you as cover to build their secret bases. And once they connect them all, they’ll be able to attack anywhere in the realm…
“So that’s why those men came for me,” Raye breathed, staring wide-eyed at Kalfr’s face. “They thought my cottage was a byrgi. They thought I was in league with you!”
And Kalfr… didn’t deny it. He only gazed back at her, while his expression sank into weariness again. His eyes flat, his mouth drawn, his swallow spasming in his throat.
“Ach,” he said. “This is truth.”