Chapter 29 #2
And maybe Raye should have been furious. She should have shouted and raged at Kalfr for putting her into such danger, and not even sending her a warning. But she was too caught in his haggard face, his empty miserable eyes. His loss, his fear, his grief. And also…
“And you made that vow, to your goddess,” she croaked, holding her eyes to his. “To do everything within your power to help your clan, and keep your sons safe. So you set yourself up here, like a sacrifice on an altar. Waiting to be slaughtered.”
Her voice broke, her eyes darting to that bloodstained stone beside them, and for a breath, there was only silence. Empty, terrible silence, shuddering with Kalfr’s agreement, and Kalfr’s truth. Yes, that was exactly what he’d done. For all his clan’s sons. For Svein. For… for her.
Gaelfr had finally stopped his pacing, though Raye could hear his ragged breaths. “If this is truth,” he growled toward Kalfr, “then why did you bring us here. Why would you offer up your son and mate’s scent thus to your enemies!”
More sickening horror bubbled in Raye’s throat, because good gods, she hadn’t even thought of that. Kalfr was waiting here to be killed, and now he’d brought them here to join him? So his enemies could go on to track them down and kill them, too?
But Kalfr’s eyes slowly closed, his face even more haggard than before.
“I thought… I had a reprieve,” he said dully.
“Sybil had retreated with her captains back north to the city, and our scouts said I ought to have a full moon’s quiet, if not more.
And then I heard word of you coming, and I thought…
I hoped… it was a gift from the goddess. A chance to meet my son, before…”
Before he died, he meant, gods damn him. Raye’s eyes were stinging, her head shaking, and when her shaky hand groped for Gaelfr, she was deeply, desperately relieved when he came. His solid body settling close beside hers, his strong arm tightening warm and safe around her waist.
“And also… this,” Kalfr said, as his tired eyes opened again, and he wearily waved toward Raye and Gaelfr.
“Now that you are here, Gael, and you have gained Raye and Svein’s trust — I knew you would care for them, once I was gone.
I knew you would take them away from all this, back across the sea, far enough that Sybil will never find you.
I knew you would keep them safe. And you will. ”
His eyes glinted on Gaelfr’s, hard and certain, and when Raye glanced up at Gaelfr, he was looking straight back, without a glimmer of hesitation or refusal on his face. As if… yes. He would? He would run away with them, and keep them safe, forever?
But he still didn’t counter it, and if Raye wasn’t mistaken, that was relief, flickering across Kalfr’s eyes. “Good,” he said, soft. “I thank you, ástin mín.”
ástin min. It was the first time Raye had heard him call Gaelfr that, and Gaelfr’s body against her betrayed a hard, convulsive spasm. As if this meant something to him, something important, and Raye couldn’t follow that look on his face, the tightness in his jaw.
“And the mountain,” Gaelfr said, with low menace in his voice. “And our Bautul kin. They knew of this? They have not sought to help you? To halt this attack against you?”
Kalfr shrugged and looked away, his chest hollowing with his exhale.
“Ach, since the start, they have sought to help,” he replied thinly.
“They have sought other ways to face this, beyond force. Their scouts have been following Sybil and her men, and they have sent her multiple offers of peace, promising terms and payments. But she refuses to hear any of these, and it seems her only wish is for my death, so…”
He shrugged again, while Gaelfr twitched, and his growl vibrated through Raye’s entire body. “So you all chose to agree to this?” he demanded. “The mountain agreed to this? To sacrifice you to this?”
He darted an accusing look toward the byrgi — toward Olarr and Aulis, perhaps — and Kalfr shook his head.
“They have not chosen this,” he said, clipped.
“And they have sought in earnest to sway me from it, these past moons. But” — his head lifted, his eyes blank — “this is my own choice. My own vow, before the goddess.”
Gaelfr growled again, his claws spasming against Raye’s back. “And what of this byrgi, then, if naught else?” he asked. “The rest of the Bautul are ready to sacrifice this with you, also? To offer it up to our enemies?”
The incredulity scraped through his voice, and Raye found herself in full, dizzying agreement. They wouldn’t truly forfeit the byrgi, too? All Kalfr’s hard work, handed over to his enemies, along with his entire life — and it ached in Raye’s chest, stung painfully behind her eyes. No. No.
But Kalfr only gave a dismissive jerk of his shoulder, even as his eyes flicked toward the adjacent garden.
“I meant to burn it out from within, and collapse the tunnels, before they came,” he said stiffly.
“But I planned and built much of this one, and planted much of the garden, also. Enough that before all this began, the clan named me the byrgi’s voreur — its Guardian.
Thus, its fate is in my hands, and it shall fall with me. As is… the goddess’ wish.”
Raye’s head began shaking — no, it wasn’t, he couldn’t — and Gaelfr’s hand spasmed harder against her back, his claws prodding into her skin. “And you believe,” he said, in a tone Raye couldn’t read, “this is the goddess’ wish for you?”
Kalfr drew in a deep breath, and dropped his gaze to the altar. “Ach, I do,” he replied, his voice empty again. “I ken I have… lost the goddess’ favour, amidst all my failings. I have lost” — his chest heaved — “my mate. My son. My ástvinur. My purpose. My freedom. My peace. And mayhap…”
His chest heaved again, his eyes blinking hard toward the altar. “Mayhap if I offer my life, and my home,” he whispered, “I will yet find peace after my death. Mayhap the goddess will finally lift this curse, and forgive me.”
Oh, gods. Oh, no, Kalfr meant that, he truly believed that.
That he could only find peace if he was dead.
And Raye couldn’t bear it, the tears now prickling painfully behind her eyes.
And her only distant consolation was Gaelfr, his body now almost vibrating with tension, his hand gripping sharp against her back.
As if he felt just the same, and he would do something, he would barge in and fix this, he would…
But he hadn’t yet moved, and when Raye shot an urgent, searching glance up toward him, that was something new in his eyes. Something dark, and bleak, and… afraid.
Because how could he barge in against this? How could he fight this, or command this? How could he force it away, and fend off his beloved ástvinur freely choosing to walk straight toward his own death?
But Raye… Raye had promised. She’d made a vow. Anything she could do.
So after a deep, unsteady breath, she shoved away from Gaelfr, and toward Kalfr. Fighting to ignore the look on his face, the bleakness in his eyes, as she reached for his slack hand, and caught it. Gripped it, held it, as tightly as she could.
Kalfr’s hand twitched in hers, but he didn’t pull away. And as Raye looked at him, felt the cold clamminess of his hand, she wanted to say something. Something eloquent, and meaningful, and hopeful, but there was only —
“Will you kneel with me, like Gaelfr asked?” she croaked. “You don’t need to pray, if you don’t want to, not like that. But we could still —”
Her throat convulsed, because gods, she hadn’t been about to say that, or offer that… or had she? And the way Kalfr was looking at her, still with glimmers of that familiar hatred in his eyes, yes, but also… also…
Hunger. Anger. Life.
The memory of her kneeling beneath the table flashed behind her eyelids, because… he’d looked like this then, too. And he’d done it, he’d wanted it, and now… now…
And before Raye lost the nerve, she staggered toward the stone altar, and clambered up to kneel on it.
Not the way one usually would kneel to pray, demure and pious, but instead…
the other way. On her hands and knees, her still-covered arse aimed toward him, like an appeal. An offering. A punishment…
“Please, Kalfr,” she whispered. “Please come, and kneel, and… do whatever you wish with me.”