Chapter 51 #2
It was enough to sink Raye into sleep, inhaling deep breaths of his rich reassuring scent.
And when morning came, she did her best to again throw herself into the joys, and the good work.
Eating Grum’s delicious breakfast of grilled pheasant and stewed fruit, and then joining Kalfr for a cheerful morning survey together, reviewing all their progress so far.
And truly, they were making astonishing gains, despite the short time frame.
Their food stores had steadily grown, with the band’s constant hunting and harvesting and preserving, and the new underground well was now fully finished, complete with a complicated pumping system up to the byrgi’s main floor, so they could fill up several large steel barrels Kalfr had ordered from Orc Mountain.
The second underground exit was now finished, too, and came out in a rocky, treacherous section on the eastern side of the nearby creek, where it would be exceedingly difficult to find.
And despite Soren’s ongoing grumbling, he and William were almost finished setting up the new mushroom garden, not far from the root cellar, and they’d just installed a small hidden pipe to serve as the faint filtered light source it required, too.
“What frivolous project do you wish to pursue next, voreur?” Soren inquired, with scathing politeness, once Raye and Kalfr had both praised the new lighting pipe. “Flowers on the roof, mayhap? Or help with the muster-room storage furniture?”
Raye and Kalfr winced in unison, because the muster-room’s storage furniture had somehow become an ongoing point of contention.
No matter what Fengr had proposed for axe storage, Skirvir had loudly and roundly refused, forcing Fengr to work on organizing the rest of the room around it.
Until apparently, just the evening before, the axe had mysteriously stuck itself to the ceiling just out of Skirvir’s reach, sending him off into a towering rage.
“My mate means to say,” William cut in, with an affectionate grin toward Soren, “he is already bored, and needs aught new to do. Any ideas?”
Fortunately, Kalfr and Raye had already discussed a few options — particularly, adding more fortifications to the exits, both underground and above, and digging further along the already-lengthy tunnel west toward Orc Mountain, to improve their chances of a safe retreat to the mountain if needed.
And despite Soren’s continued sarcastic jibes, he and William agreed to both plans easily enough, and soon set off to get started.
It was an excellent morning’s work, and when Raye and Kalfr headed back upstairs, Julian had just finished the morning reading lesson, and Svein and Gaelfr were now tucking into a lunch of Grum’s hearty poultry stew, together with Olarr and Aulis and their children.
The four of them had ended up staying to help with the byrgi’s preparations, and it had been lovely to have the extra company for Svein — he and Alfie and Ophelia already seemed to be the best of friends, constantly chattering and racing around the byrgi, playing their games together.
And as Raye settled down across the table from them, she shared an easy smile with Kalfr beside her, and gave a companionable squeeze to his thigh under the table.
They were doing this. Meeting each other, trusting each other. Making a family together.
That afternoon, Raye returned to her new tapestry, which was now an entire hand’s-breadth wide, with multiple colourful flowers and leaves now complete.
And as she worked, she listened to Othan give the children a merry drumming lesson — something he’d done most afternoons, when he had a few moments between their other projects.
He’d even helped the children make smaller drums of their own, and while the results weren’t yet particularly pleasant to listen to, Raye still found herself enjoying the noise and the hubbub, the sweet sound of Svein’s laughter carrying up to the loft.
Midway through the afternoon, Kalfr jogged up the stairs toward Raye, and after an appreciative look at her tapestry, bent to press a kiss to the top of her head.
“Grum’s leg has been paining him today,” he told her, “and Rurik has not been able to help. So I ordered Grum to bed, and relieved you from your training with Gael, in hopes that” — he gave her a sheepish smile as he drew back — “you might help me cook supper?”
Raye’s smile felt far too eager — Kalfr wanted to cook with her?
— and she quickly followed him down to the kitchen, where together they reviewed what fresh ingredients had come in that day, including a small shipment of oat flour and butter from the mountain.
And at Raye’s suggestion, they ended up proceeding with Mirkandian spiced meat and potato dumplings, a leafy green salad, and sweetcakes.
All dishes Raye knew from memory, and all dishes Kalfr apparently remembered her making, too.
“I cannot tell you how many times I have dreamt of your sweetcakes,” he told her with a grin, as he swiftly sliced venison at the counter beside her. “Or how I dreamt of making you our cook here, also.”
Raye shot him a surprised look, and then glanced at the kitchen around them.
It was large and well-appointed, laid out similarly to the much smaller one at her cottage, and she could admit that she would have gladly accepted a position as the band’s cook, if Kalfr had offered it.
“Why didn’t you, then?” she asked, with genuine curiosity.
“Because Grum has more experience with Bautul cuisine?”
But Kalfr’s grin went rueful now, and he shook his head. “No, I was only greedy, I ken,” he said lightly. “Did not wish to keep my mate bound to a kitchen, when she bears so many other great gifts.”
A surge of warmth fired through Raye’s body, along with a sudden, sweeping appreciation.
Kalfr could have so easily kept her in this kitchen all day, cooking and washing his band’s dishes — and instead, he’d welcomed her help as his partner, and given her time and space to pursue her weaving.
And now, here he was, still giving her a chance to cook like this, and sharing it with her, too.
“Well, thank you,” Raye said, with a companionable bump to his shoulder. “Though if you’d ever like to give Grum more time off, I’d be glad to still do some cooking with you. A day every week, maybe?”
And maybe Kalfr had been more devious about this than she’d thought, because he nodded, and flashed her a triumphant grin as he took a large, sharp-toothed bite of sweetcake.
To which Raye laughed, and swiped the rest of it back from him, and shoved it instead toward a delighted-looking Egil, who had happened to be walking by.
The rest of the meal turned out well, too, especially once Kalfr made them some rose mallow tea to go with it, and Raye had to admit there was something deeply satisfying about a dozen orcs falling entirely silent at once as they gobbled down their dinner.
Grum had limped up to eat, too, and to Raye’s relief, he seemed to enjoy the meal just as much as the others, and afterwards gruffly asked her if she would teach him the recipes.
Raye had just begun cleaning up when she caught sight of something through the window — a group of new orcs approaching from the north, and hauling a large cart, awkwardly piled with packages and goods.
This was a sight she’d seen a few times over the past few days, as they’d ordered various supplies from Orc Mountain’s shop — but she couldn’t recall that they were waiting for anything, and Kalfr’s furrowed brow suggested that he hadn’t been expecting anything, either.
“Delivery!” the bulky front orc announced, once Raye had gone and opened the door. “I ken this is for you, woman. Raye of Clan Bautul, is it not?”
Raye blinked, darting a searching glance back toward the still mostly-full table behind her — and upon following her gaze, the delivery orc straightened, and cheerfully grinned and waved. Not toward Kalfr, but toward… Gaelfr?
“Ach, Gaelfr, it is all here, as you ordered,” the delivery orc said.
“And we kept a close scent upon the watching men you warned us of, but they did not sight us, nor raise any alarms. Julian, the Ka-esh contacts you and Soren gave us were a great help with the tunnel — they dug a full furlong in half a day, all the way in.”
Raye was feeling thoroughly lost, now, but Julian smiled and nodded, and the rest of the delivery orcs had already begun unpacking the cart, and hauling items inside.
A variety of large, mismatched wrapped packages, and what looked to be several bulky, irregular pieces of wood, attached together in an entirely incomprehensible manner.
At least, until Raye took a closer look at the nearest one, and at the grain of its wood, and the position of that bolt. Looking… familiar, because it was…
“My loom?” she yelped, clapping both hands over her mouth. “And wait, is that my spinning wheel? How the hell did you get these?”
The first delivery orc grinned over Raye’s shoulder again, toward Gaelfr. Who looked decidedly flustered as he stood to his feet, and came over to drop several gold coins into the orc’s hand. “Thank you, brothers,” he said, with a curt nod. “We are most grateful for your hard work upon this.”
The orcs waved and trooped out again, leaving Raye standing there staring at Gaelfr, and the disassembled loom, and the packages.
And when she knelt, and tore the nearest package open, her breath hitched, her eyes stinging hot.
It was — her yarn. One of her large, heavy spools of pale wool yarn, painstakingly spun over many, many late nights.
And when they’d left her cottage, they’d buried it in Svein’s little tunnel with all the rest, and now — Raye glanced around at all the packages again — it was here. It was all here. Because of… Gaelfr?