Chapter 42 #2
Gaelfr’s eyes slid to something beyond Kalfr’s head, but he curtly nodded. “In the south,” he said, “I oft faced attacks and ambushes from men. I could not leave a trail of dead and wounded behind me, so I learnt… safer ways to face this.”
His voice had lowered, his mouth twisting with something like shame. As if this revelation was… dishonourable, somehow. As if a true Bautul would have maimed or killed every enemy in his path.
But the skepticism faded from Kalfr’s eyes, and he swiftly nodded, and gripped Gaelfr’s shoulder with obvious approval. “And you say I am the clever one, ástin mín,” he said softly. “I am sure your skill in this shall be a great help to us. Thank you.”
For an instant, Gaelfr looked genuinely struck by the praise, a flush creeping up his cheeks — but then he nodded too, and cleared his throat. “Good,” he said. “And this means all our band must learn this. Even your dancer, and that flimsy little scholar, too.”
The stubbornness flared through his eyes, as if he expected Kalfr to challenge him, or to question his motives in this.
And though Kalfr’s eyes betrayed a trace of stubbornness, too, he squared his shoulders, and held Gaelfr’s gaze.
“Ach, I follow, Gael,” he said steadily.
“As our battle-captain, you must do as you best see fit.”
It was again another demonstration of his trust in Gaelfr, meeting him in this — and Raye could see Gaelfr blinking beneath it, his throat swallowing.
While Kalfr aimed a sidelong glance toward Raye, his eyes glinting with a sudden, teasing warmth.
“But as part of this,” he added, “you will also train our mate, will you not?”
Wait. Raye blinked, and stared disbelieving at Kalfr, and then at Gaelfr, too. Surely Kalfr didn’t really want to train her? And Gaelfr wouldn’t want that either, would he?
But Gaelfr’s grin between them was equal parts smug and relieved, and he nodded, and waved Raye forward. “Ach, I could never leave our mate to languish,” he replied flatly. “Now come, woman, and I will grant you your first lesson.”
Beside Raye, Kalfr encouragingly nodded, and in response, something swooped deep in her chest. They were meeting her, too. Seeking ways to trust her. And she wanted to trust them, too.
“Right, then,” she said, with an attempt at a grateful smile between them. “Though I’ve never actually fought anyone in my life, and it’s possible I’ll be awful at it. Fair warning.”
But Gaelfr appeared entirely unperturbed, and he waved her toward a nearby rack of wooden weapons.
“You will learn,” he told her, as he plucked out a wooden sword, frowning as he held it up against her, and then drew out another.
“And even if you never need to use this, we ought to begin building your strength, alongside our good feeding and fattening.”
He aimed a smug glance up and down Raye’s body, and though she rolled her eyes, she took the sword he thrust toward her, and gripped its smooth wooden hilt in her hand.
Kalfr and Svein had already moved into the next ring over, play-fighting together while Svein giggled and squealed, leaving Raye and Gaelfr alone in their own ring.
And as Gaelfr strode purposefully toward her, a wooden sword of his own in hand, Raye felt her unease rising again.
What would he expect from this? Surely he wouldn’t hurt her… right?
But her fear soon proved to be unfounded, because Gaelfr immediately launched into a surprisingly in-depth monologue about hand-to-hand swordplay and safety, complete with detailed demonstrations.
Teaching Raye how to hold her sword, how to sheathe it, how to stand and move her weight, how to step forward to strike.
And throughout it all, he kept reminding her to constantly monitor their surroundings, too — listening, smelling, keeping an eye on the terrain, and seeking means of defense or escape.
“If you can run to shelter, or to a trained warrior who can defend you, this is always best,” he explained.
“But if you are bound to face your foe, the terrain can oft help you. Rocks, holes, slopes, even trees and branches — these can all be wielded against your foe, most of all if you know your foe’s weaknesses, also. ”
It made sense, and Raye listened with genuine interest as he next explained the most common areas of enemy weakness he wanted her to focus on — the groin area, any loose clothes or long hair, the nose and eyes and throat.
“But a strike to the throat or face can also maim your foe, or even cause death,” he told her.
“And since we do not wish for this, we will start our training with the groin, ach? So try this against me, seeking to strike my bollocks. Holding the blade thus.”
He demonstrated with a strike toward the nearest training dummy, keeping his stance low, using his full weight to swing the sword up. But for the first time in this lesson, Raye was thoroughly disconcerted, because Gaelfr couldn’t really want her to hit him in the bollocks?
But yes, she knew that familiar stubbornness in his eyes, and when she finally made a halfhearted swing toward him, he grunted with disapproval as he easily dodged out of the way.
“Come, woman, you can do better than this,” he told her, his mouth quirking.
“Have you not longed to do this since the first moment we met?”
Raye couldn’t bite back her chuckle, even as she darted a sideways look toward Kalfr and Svein — but they were both still laughing and playing in the next ring, whacking their own wooden swords together.
“I just… wouldn’t want to actually hurt you,” she muttered toward Gaelfr. “Or prevent you from… performing.”
But Gaelfr’s answering grin was wicked, and he waggled his brows toward her. “You fear the loss of your good feedings?” he purred, under his breath. “How about this, then. If you strike my bollocks thus, then tonight I shall allow you to kiss and tend me there, as payment.”
Gods, he was the worst, but another helpless laugh escaped Raye’s mouth, and she hurled herself back toward him again, trying to remember everything he’d taught her.
And though Gaelfr easily dodged again, she’d gotten closer this time — so she lunged forward again, and again, and again.
As if she was… agreeing to his ridiculous challenge. To his test.
But maybe… maybe she was just finding a way to meet him, too. A way to learn to trust him, just like Kalfr had said.
She crowed aloud when she landed her first hit, making Gaelfr bend double and stagger sideways — but his grin was swift and approving, and he settled deeper into his stance, and waved her forward again. “Do this again,” he drawled, “and mayhap I shall have you tend him, also.”
He nodded over toward Kalfr, still sparring with a delightedly squealing Svein, and this time, Raye didn’t hesitate as she rushed toward Gaelfr again.
Swinging and striking at him as cleanly as she could, focusing on following his directions, betraying far too many taunts and grins toward him at her various small victories.
But he only chuckled and teased her in return, even as he freely praised her efforts, and his hands often settled against her body, guiding her this way or that.
By the time they finished, it was fully sundown, and Raye felt hot and shaky all over.
But she was still grinning back toward Gaelfr, so wide her face hurt, because that — that had been fun.
So much fun. Just like her wonderful afternoon with Kalfr had been, too.
She’d sought to meet them, to trust them — and in return, they’d given her one of the loveliest days she could remember.
“How was this, Gael?” Kalfr lightly asked as he came over to join them, while Svein kept spinning in circles with his sword. “Does our watcher hold promise?”
“Ach, she does,” Gaelfr replied. “Just as a voreur’s mate should. Although, I ken she has gravely wounded me, so this eve” — he winked toward Kalfr — “she owes us both some good tending, you ken.”
Kalfr’s brows rose, his eyes gleaming as he glanced toward Raye — and the hunger instantly simmered in her belly, even as Gaelfr’s words jangled strangely through her skull. She owes us both. She owes us both…
And though she knew it was just teasing — it was, right?
— a sudden, slithering darkness curled into the warmth and the longing.
Because… she did owe them. She’d sworn that vow to do whatever it took.
And Gaelfr was only doing all this on the condition that she keep that vow.
He was still planning to leave, if she failed.
As for Kalfr, he was still planning to sacrifice himself for this, wasn’t he?
He was still planning to leave, too. Not only that, but he’d also made it excessively clear that he still wanted Raye’s penance, and her punishment.
And she needed to remember that, no matter what they said, no matter how much happy surveying and training they did together. I should never have dreamt he could find worse than you…
But gods, it was easy to forget. Especially once they all headed back to the byrgi together, and found it full of their cheerfully chattering new bandmates, and the mouthwatering scents of seasoned meat and vegetables.
Someone had already set the table, and brought in various new stumps and stones to add beside the benches, and covered them with soft furs.
There were also fresh flowers in chipped mugs scattered throughout the byrgi, and a roaring fire in the fireplace, and for a breath, as Raye stood and blinked at it all, flanked by Kalfr and Gaelfr and their son, it almost felt like… home.
“Voreur!” exclaimed a familiar orc — Eyolf, tugging Iyolf behind him, and beaming toward Kalfr’s face. “We did not expect ale and mead, did we, Iyolf? Nor such a feast for our first night in our byrgi!”