Chapter 32
Kalfr soon came back again, just as Gaelfr had promised.
Raye and Gaelfr had just finished saying a grateful goodbye to Olarr and Aulis, who had both wanted to return their children home before nightfall. And who, Raye hadn’t helped noticing, had both kept glancing between her and Gaelfr, with unmistakable approval in their eyes.
“We are glad you have come, brother,” Olarr had told Gaelfr, as he’d firmly clasped his arm in farewell. “We shall see you again soon. And next time” — he’d raised his bushy brows — “mayhap you shall tell us the full tale of what you have done, for all these summers you were gone.”
Gaelfr’s smile had gone rather fixed, but he’d nodded, and joined Raye and Svein in waving goodbye.
And once Olarr and Aulis and the children had disappeared into the forest, Raye had briefly considered pressing that question with Gaelfr — what had he done, all that time?
— but instead she’d squeezed gently at his taut bicep.
As if in reassurance, and understanding. In… peace.
“I smell Papa!” Svein exclaimed, only moments later, pointing his claw in the opposite direction, toward the north. “And meat!”
When Raye turned to look, Kalfr had indeed reappeared, striding out from the trees with a dead pheasant in his claws.
And though Svein crowed aloud and raced off to greet him, Raye hesitated, the unease again gnawing in her belly.
What if Kalfr still couldn’t bear to see her?
What if he’d intentionally waited until their guests had left before he returned, so he wouldn’t feel obligated to acknowledge her, or speak to her?
But Gaelfr firmly nudged Raye forward, his expression again decisive and determined, so she took a breath, and complied. Fighting to ignore the swirling rising visions from the altar, Kalfr’s hard jutting cock, his slick sputtering seed. Do not look at me, nor speak to me…
When they caught up to Kalfr and Svein, Svein was already chattering, excitedly recounting his afternoon’s activities. And though Kalfr still looked decidedly wan, he was smiling down toward Svein, and he nodded toward Gaelfr and Raye, too.
“Thank you for the meat, ástin mín,” Gaelfr said, once Svein had paused for breath, and he stepped forward, and inhaled deep against Kalfr’s neck. “Are you well? Is there aught I can grant you?”
Kalfr grimaced, even as his eyes glanced toward Raye again. Holding for an instant too long, while the memory of the altar swirled up between them, as vivid as if they’d been reenacting it together. His body sliding into her, pulsing and sputtering, spewing her full of him…
“No, I am well,” Kalfr said, as he glanced away again. “Are you hungry?”
Gaelfr nodded against Kalfr’s neck, and pressed a kiss to his scarred skin before drawing away again. “Ach, let us eat,” he replied. “I ken I saw a firepit in that grand garden of yours, did I not? Mayhap we can eat our supper there?”
Kalfr hesitated, but nodded, and strode off ahead of them toward the garden, with Svein again chattering by his side. And as Raye followed with Gaelfr, she couldn’t take her eyes off Kalfr, and his tall, graceful strides. Looking smoother than before, his head held high, his shoulders back.
“He looks a mite better, does he not?” Gaelfr said, under his breath. “He scents better, also. This ploughing upon the altar has done you both much good, I ken.”
Raye’s face heated, and she elbowed Gaelfr in the side, though she couldn’t deny the traitorous little skip in her chest. And when they reached the edge of Kalfr’s garden, Gaelfr plucked the pheasant from Kalfr’s fingers, and gently shoved Raye toward him.
“Our mate has not yet fully seen your garden, ástin mín,” he told Kalfr. “You shall show it to her, and mayhap fetch more for us to eat, whilst Svein and I ready this meat.”
It was Gaelfr barging in yet again, his tone deep and commanding, his eyes holding with a distinct challenge on Kalfr.
And though that might have been a flicker of rebellion in Kalfr’s eyes, he angled a brief look at Svein’s curious watching face, and nodded.
Agreeing to this. Agreeing to show Raye around his garden.
Raye’s heart skipped again, but she accordingly took a breath, and followed Kalfr into the garden’s nearest path. A path that didn’t proceed in a straight line, but instead twined and twisted around shrubs and beds and plantings, and even a variety of full-grown trees.
Kalfr didn’t speak as they walked, though he did cast the occasional unreadable glance over his shoulder toward Raye, and hesitated whenever she paused to take a closer look at something.
Which happened rather more often than she might have liked, because despite her simmering unease about all this, and her ongoing anxiety about Kalfr’s too-near presence, he had created a beautiful garden.
It boasted an astonishing variety of plants — herbs, legumes, vegetables, berries, flowers, roses, a cluster of young fruit trees, and large beds of maize and oats.
And together with the unconventional layout and meandering paths, it meant there was always something new to discover — an unfamiliar clump of berries, a large patch of cheerful fiddlehead ferns, a variety of sorrel she’d never seen before.
“This is wonderful, Kalfr,” she said, as she stopped to marvel at a sprawling bed of squash, some of the fruit larger than her head. “It must have taken you a shocking amount of work. And there are so many unique varieties of plants, too. How did you —”
Too late, she stopped and shook her head, darting a wincing look toward Kalfr’s face. And though she still couldn’t read his expression, he didn’t look annoyed or angry, did he?
“In my studies of our clan these past summers, I have learnt much of gardening,” he replied, his voice careful. “There is now a large Bautul garden at the mountain, and our kin there have granted me many of these plants, and have visited to help me plant and tend them, also.”
It was a real answer, far more comprehensive than he’d needed to give, and Raye gave him a small, grateful smile in return. “Well, you’ve done a stunning job,” she said. “It’s beautiful, and there’s still so much to eat here, too. Enough to keep you fed for years.”
Kalfr nodded, though his eyes flicked away again, toward a nearby elderberry shrub. “Ach, well, I was not meant to live here alone,” he replied. “This garden was meant to feed not only me, but an entire band of orcs, along with —”
He grimaced, shaking his head, and Raye studied his face for an instant too long. Had he really meant to live here with an entire group of orcs? And also, what else had he been about to say? He couldn’t have meant… he might have hoped to feed them, someday, too? Svein, and Gaelfr, and… her?
The taste of the rose mallow tea flared at the back of Raye’s tongue, together with a sudden, desperate longing — and for an instant, she could see it, unfurling here before them.
All of them living here together, working in this beautiful garden together, making improvements, growing their favourite plants.
Maybe Kalfr would consider planting coreopsis, for orange dyes, or saffron crocuses, for bright yellow, or black hollyhock, for green and blue.
All of which Raye still had growing back in her own garden, though she had no use for them anymore.
And now, jumbling against the rest, was an almost-forgotten memory of her dragging Kalfr out into her garden to help her harvest the precious crocuses, which had come in all at once.
And how he’d easily agreed, and had then knelt beside her for an entire morning, helping her pluck the multitude of tiny purple flowers, without a single complaint.
And when she’d thanked him afterwards, he’d only fondly smiled toward her, shaking his head.
I know naught about gardens, he’d told her, but if it pleases you, and helps you with your weaving, I shall gladly learn all you wish.
That had only been a few short weeks before the end — gods, perhaps it had been the last time Raye had seen him, before Gaelfr had showed up in her garden?
And as she blinked around at Kalfr’s own beautiful garden, something pitched and heaved in her chest. He couldn’t have done this for her, learned all this for her… could he?
But then another memory flared, the truth of what he’d done on the altar that very afternoon. His body filling hers, using hers, while he himself remained furious, distant, cold. Do not look at me, nor speak to me.
“Mayhap we could have some fried greens with our meat?” Kalfr finally asked. “Do you wish to help me harvest these?”
The question froze Raye’s breath, snapped her eyes up toward Kalfr’s face. And though his eyes were still distant, his mouth carefully twitched up, into a small, tentative smile. As if… he really meant that. He really wanted her help.
Raye’s stomach flipped, and she smiled and nodded back, and followed him over to the small patch of dandelions and nettles, growing in a sunny spot nearby.
And though they didn’t speak as they knelt and harvested the greens together, placing them into a small sack Kalfr had tugged from his pocket, the longer they worked, the more it felt familiar, or even…
companionable. Not unlike that morning they’d spent in Raye’s garden, harvesting the crocuses together.
“What do you think of frying up the greens with some onions?” Raye cautiously ventured, once they’d finished. “Or roasting some pine nuts to add, too?”
She nodded toward a cluster of pine trees at the edge of the garden, and to her surprise, Kalfr easily nodded, and agreed.
And once he’d tugged a fresh onion out of a nearby bed, he even climbed up into one of the pine trees, plucking the pinecones with his claws, and tossing them down to where Raye was holding out the sack.
An activity that again felt almost companionable, especially when an irate squirrel showed up to scold Kalfr for stealing his pinecones, earning genuine laughs from Raye and Kalfr both, while Kalfr made a hasty retreat back down the tree.
Once they’d headed back through the garden’s winding paths, they found Gaelfr and Svein working together at a flat stone slab beside a large, well-appointed firepit.
And upon catching sight of Raye and Kalfr, Gaelfr smiled approvingly and waved them over, and soon set them to work at a second nearby slab, preparing their greens for supper.
It turned out that there were already pans and tools helpfully stashed beneath the stone, and soon Raye and Kalfr were working together, first heating the pinecones to extract the nuts, and next frying the onions, and adding the greens.
And again, it felt easy, natural, to work together like this, keeping an eye on each other’s progress, passing tools back and forth.
Almost, again, like a shared understanding, or a truce, even in the face of what had happened at the altar, and all the threats still hanging over their heads. Almost… like peace.
So Raye did her best to be cheerful and grateful, and to focus on cooking, until their meal was finished.
It turned out beautifully, the poultry rich and flavourful, the nuts adding a crunchy sweetness to the greens, and as they ate together around the dancing fire, they made conversation together, too.
Most of it centred around Svein, but Raye also asked Kalfr a few more tentative questions about his garden, and Gaelfr asked him more about Olarr and Aulis, and how they’d ended up adopting their children.
And though Kalfr’s answers were brief, they didn’t seem hostile, and he laughed when Gaelfr recounted a vivid tale of how the two of them had once gotten trapped up a huge tree together, while a band of furious men raged from below, and hacked uselessly at the tree with their swords.
Once they’d finished eating and cleaning up, it was well past nightfall, and Svein had begun yawning against Raye’s side.
So they headed back indoors together, and put Svein to bed together, too.
Following the same routine from the night before, with the hair braiding, and the singing, and Kalfr’s prayer of protection, too.
And as he spoke it, perhaps with a little more ease in his voice and his eyes, Raye could again feel that peace stealing closer, whispering between them.
Despite everything today, maybe they really could do this.
Maybe she could make amends. Maybe they could find a way to keep this, and stay…
But then, once Svein had fallen asleep, Raye followed Kalfr and Gaelfr out into the hallway.
And as Gaelfr firmly shut Svein’s door, she could feel something shifting in the air, in the shadowy light of the lamp Gaelfr was carrying.
Something in the exhale of Gaelfr’s breath, the look on his face, and in the way Kalfr was…
waiting. Waiting, studying Gaelfr, his body taut, his hands in fists.
“So, Gael?” Kalfr demanded, raising his brows. “What is it? What have you been plotting?”
Raye blinked at him, at Gaelfr, as confusion filtered through her thoughts. Had Gaelfr been plotting something? Some way to prevent Kalfr from trying to sacrifice himself on that altar, perhaps? Or some way to save them from their enemies? From… Sybil?
But yes, maybe he had, based on the increasingly stubborn set of his mouth, and the deepening impatience in Kalfr’s eyes. And wait, perhaps Gaelfr had even told Raye as much earlier, hadn’t he? We have gained much ground today, and we shall soon gain more. We shall address this.
But he hadn’t told her any details, and surely he hadn’t shared any with Kalfr, either. Though perhaps… perhaps they’d both been waiting for this. For Svein to be safely asleep, before they began speaking of plans, and threats, and danger.
“Tell me, Gael,” Kalfr insisted, lower. “What do you mean to do? And when did you mean to tell us of this?”
He flailed his hand toward… toward Raye. As if he was including her in this, with him. And despite the sudden warmth pooling in Raye’s chest, her eyes were on Gaelfr, too. Because yes, she knew that look on his face, that stubborn glint in his eyes…
“Ach, I have a plan for us,” Gaelfr said, his voice flat, utterly certain. “Come morn, we shall go to Orc Mountain.”