Chapter 45 #2
She alternated the drawing with checking her newly warped loom, adjusting and spacing as needed, and wrapping up smaller bundles of coloured yarn.
All such deeply familiar tasks, too, a quiet long-lost joy beneath her fingers, and once she finally began weaving, carefully guiding her tapestry needle back and forth between the warp threads, she could have wept with the wonder of it, and the relief.
But just as Kalfr had predicted when he’d offered Raye the role of watcher, it turned out that weaving here in the loft still allowed her plenty of awareness to monitor the goings-on around the byrgi, too.
Julian had set up at the table again with some books, seemingly preparing the next day’s lesson, Grum had begun pickling sliced vegetables in barrels, and soon Raye caught sight of Svein and Gaelfr out the window, Svein excitedly chattering and tugging at Gaelfr’s hand as they headed toward the training-grounds together.
Throughout it all, Kalfr had reappeared and disappeared multiple times, jogging up and down the stairs, becoming increasingly covered with mud each time.
And whenever he appeared, someone else inevitably appeared to speak to him about something — Egil wondering where he could find more string for his bow, Grum needing more salt, Fengr demanding fresh lumber for the storage furniture, Skirvir complaining that Fengr had insulted him in the muster-room, and dared to touch his axe.
Kalfr handled all these interruptions with impressive efficiency and patience, and he seemed more settled than before, too.
And once he’d sent Skirvir off to help with the well-digging, he glanced up at Raye in the loft, and gave an exasperated roll of his eyes.
To which Raye chuckled and gave a commiserating grimace back, while warmth bubbled up in her belly.
She could do this. They could do this, together.
It was perhaps mid-afternoon when Rurik appeared, first bending down to kiss Julian at the table, and next giving an imperious wave up toward Raye in the loft. “I am ready for your examination now,” he informed her. “And I will brief you upon Svein’s, also. Come along, at once.”
He didn’t wait for her reply before spinning and striding downstairs again, but Julian gave her an encouraging smile from the table.
And though Raye smiled back, a low foreboding crept through her thoughts as she followed Rurik, and picked up her lamp from where they’d begun hanging it beside the stairs.
What did Rurik want to tell her about Svein?
And why hadn’t she thought of that, when she’d let Gaelfr handle the appointment?
What if Rurik had been able to tell how Svein had gone hungry…
or what if there was something even worse?
“No need to look at me thus, woman,” Rurik said, once Raye had warily stepped into the sickroom. “I have no dread news for you. But I wished to speak to you of what I saw with your son, and what I have seen with you, also. Now come, sit.”
It all spiked Raye’s unease higher — what had he seen?
— but she accordingly sat down onto his examination table, while Rurik washed his hands in a nearby basin.
“With your leave, I will need to touch you,” he told her.
“Healing is my gift, you see, much like Fengr with his dancing last eve — and when I touch you, I can see what is within you, and seek to heal you.”
Raye probably should have been more surprised by this astonishing revelation, but she only managed another nod, and sat there waiting, her heart skipping, while Rurik settled his cool hands flat against her head, her neck, her shoulders, her collarbones.
And next further down, against her torso, and then for a long moment against her lower belly.
“As I thought,” he said crisply. “You have been starving yourself, to feed your son. For years.”
Raye’s throat seized, the heat flooding up into her cheeks. Rurik could really see that? He could really tell that she and Svein had gone hungry? He could tell that she had failed, all these years?
“So what — what did you see with Svein, then?” she asked, her voice wavering. “Does he have any — any lasting —”
Gods, she couldn’t even say it, and Rurik’s eyes softened as he glanced toward her face.
“Naught that will not heal on its own,” he replied.
“But you are lucky you brought him here when you did. You and his fathers will need to watch him these next moons, and make sure he has all the good food and exercise he needs.”
Right. Raye could scarcely meet his eyes, but she nodded, twisting her fingers together on her lap.
While Rurik’s hands kept shifting over the fabric of her dress, holding in place for a few breaths before moving again.
“And you have fared far worse than your son,” he continued, gentler now.
“I must impress upon you the great risks for your own health, and your own urgent need for healing. You must keep eating, and rebuilding your strength as much as possible. You ought to have sun and fresh air and exercise each day, and eat a range of good fresh food, also. It was wise of your mates to bring gardeners and a cook here, to help you.”
Raye blinked toward him, because that wasn’t why Kalfr had brought them all here…
was it? But Rurik’s eyes dropped to her abdomen, to where his hands were shifting back and forth, his long fingers spread wide.
“The outdoor work and training was wise of them, also,” he told her.
“And most of all, I am glad they are well aware of your need for their fresh seed, also.”
Her what? Raye blinked at Rurik again, and shook her head. “Uh, what?” she said. “Why would I need —”
Her voice stuck in her throat, and Rurik’s glance toward her was confused, even surprised.
“Have they not told you of this?” he asked.
“Orc-seed holds many nutrients and helpful properties, many of which we have not yet fully unearthed. Our seed is especially beneficial for humans, no matter how you ingest this. It shall rebuild your health and strength far faster than any other means you could pursue.”
Raye stared at him, while her thoughts flashed back to several days before, to that conversation she’d had with Aulis.
Because yes, he’d spoken of this too, hadn’t he?
How the orcs’ seed could supposedly help with scenting, and with strength and skill.
And all this time, when Gaelfr had been constantly trying to feed her and fatten her…
had he been thinking of that? Had he really been trying to help her? To heal her?
“And your mates’ seed will especially help,” Rurik said, as he dropped his hands from her belly, “to prepare your body for your forthcoming pregnancy.”
Wait. Raye jolted to stillness, as something sharp and curious struck through her chest. Her forthcoming pregnancy. Her forthcoming pregnancy?
“What — what do you mean?” she demanded, hoarse. “Wait, I’m not — I’m not pregnant right now, am I?”
Rurik shook his head, and turned back toward his basin, where he began washing his hands again. “Not yet,” he said over his shoulder. “But if you do not otherwise choose to prevent it, you soon will be. As soon as you grow strong enough to carry a child.”
What? Raye gaped at him, and suddenly it felt as though her entire body was vibrating, possessed by something she couldn’t name. “But Gaelfr and I,” she began, through her strangely dry throat. “We… we haven’t. Not like that. And Kalfr, he said he had a healer stopper his seed last year, so…”
But it felt paltry even as she spoke it, and Rurik gave her a long, disbelieving look as he strode back toward her. “Ach, last year,” he repeated, deadpan. “What bearing does this have upon now?”
The vibrations in Raye’s body wrenched harder, and her heartbeat stuttered, her swallow painful in her dry throat.
While Rurik’s eyes went even more disbelieving on hers, his head shaking.
“Did you not seek to confirm this, before Kalfr bedded you?” he asked.
“Or” — his mouth pursed — “he did not mislead you upon this, did he?”
The questions felt like strikes across Raye’s cheeks, screeching new chaos through her flailing thoughts. Had Kalfr misled her? He’d told her and Gaelfr that a healer had stoppered his seed, so he couldn’t father a child with Sybil. And then, he’d said nothing else, and Raye…
Raye hadn’t once asked. Had she? No. She hadn’t once hesitated.
She’d been the one to climb onto those altars, twice, and beg for him.
And — her eyes briefly closed — it had only been after the altars that Kalfr had begun to forgive her.
After she’d offered him not only pleasure, and power over her, but…
“You — you’re sure?” she finally croaked, into the taut silence. “That Kalfr is — able to father children? Were you the one who originally did the — the stoppering for him? Did you change it back? Have you examined him here already?”
Her voice was rising, coming out fast and panicked, but Rurik’s expression didn’t change.
“Kalfr was not my patient then, no,” he said flatly.
“And yes, I have already examined him, but it is not my place to speak of this to you. Instead, I would strongly recommend you speak to your own mate. At once.”
Your own mate. At once. The words were more stinging strikes across Raye’s face, blazing up heat and alarm and a sudden, devastating panic. Because even if Rurik wasn’t saying it, he still was making his point very clear, wasn’t he? As if…
“Or else,” he added, the truth cold and settled in his voice, “you may soon bear him another son.”