Chapter 55
Kalfr wanted to go meet Sybil. To meet Sybil. Tomorrow. Tomorrow?!
Raye’s panic kicked and churned, and she gaped at him, shaking her head. No. He couldn’t. He couldn’t.
“You — you promised,” she choked. “You swore to us you wouldn’t!”
Her vision swarmed with that drawing of Sybil’s beautiful naked body, both a taunt and a temptation. And Raye had worked so hard to shove that image away, to believe Kalfr’s promise that he only wanted them, he would be honest with them…
Gaelfr was growling too, his eyes flashing with rising disbelief on Kalfr’s face.
And Kalfr let out a heavy, tired sigh as he elbowed Gaelfr backwards, and then drew himself back from Raye, too.
Leaving her cold, empty, bereft, and the familiar sensation of his seed escaping her, pooling away onto the hard earth, felt strangely ominous, a sign of loss to come.
“I have no wish to hurt you, or betray you,” Kalfr said, sinking back onto his knees. “Either of you. I know I swore to do my best for you and Svein, and to stay here with you. But…”
Raye’s heartbeat charged faster, and she pushed up to her knees too, searching his face.
“But what?” she demanded. “Then stay! We’ve been working so hard with our preparations, and we should still be able to withstand a siege, as long as it takes!
Or to do our best to fight and disarm them, or to retreat to the mountain, if it comes to that! Right, Gael?”
Her voice came out fast and shrill, while Gaelfr’s nod was slow and menacing, his eyes still flashing on Kalfr’s face. And if nothing else, Gaelfr wouldn’t allow this, he would do something, anything —
“Please, saeta,” Kalfr said, that word striking in Raye’s chest — and his warm hand found hers, clasping gently against it. “Will you please trust me enough to hear me upon this, before you cast your judgement?”
It was another strike, pointed and far too powerful, hitting at what Raye had asked him, only a few moments before. We’re settled now, aren’t we? We can trust each other, and be a family? For good?
And perhaps Kalfr was striking, too, at how Raye had rushed to cast that judgement, that long-ago night. How she’d refused to hear his pleas and explanations. How she’d driven them all apart.
The protests kept rising, jostling in her throat, but with effort, she pressed her lips together, and managed a tight, curt nod. And in return, Kalfr’s eyes flared with relief, and he gave a grateful squeeze of his fingers against hers.
“Thank you,” he murmured. “Both of you.”
Right. Because Gaelfr was waiting too, silent and unmoving on his knees beside them.
He’d half-yanked up his trousers, and Kalfr had done the same — and after a sidelong glance toward Raye, Gaelfr swiped for her discarded dress, and draped it over her chilly shoulders before frowning back at Kalfr again.
“Well?” he asked, though the strain scraped through his voice. “Why do you wish to do this, ástin mín?”
Kalfr nodded and squared his shoulders, his eyes sweeping back and forth between them. “I wish to do this,” he said, “because of this promise I made to you. These past weeks, with you here beside me, this has been —”
His voice caught, but he took a deep breath.
“This has been like naught I have ever dreamt of, in all my days,” he continued, hoarse.
“You have shown me such peace, and such purpose, and such pleasure. It has been a true joy to face each day with you, and work beside you to help our kin, and build a new life together. This has been — such a gift, from you both. Such help, and healing.”
Help, and healing. Those words jangled with stark familiarity, and when Raye glanced toward Gaelfr’s face, she found that recognition there, too.
Their goal in all this had been to help Kalfr, to heal him, to show him a path back to himself again…
and they’d done it. They’d really done it, and gained the exact outcome they’d hoped and planned and prayed for. But now…
“I wish to honour this,” Kalfr continued, his voice and eyes steady. “I wish to do all within my power to keep my vows to you in return, and protect this for us. For us, for our band, for Svein. And for any other son we might make, also.”
Raye’s hand slipped to her belly, even as the rebellion surged brighter through her thoughts. “And you really think,” she rasped, “that leaving us and meeting with Sybil will help accomplish this?”
If Kalfr caught the sarcasm in her voice, he didn’t acknowledge it, and he again squeezed her hand, inclined his head toward her.
“I have given this much thought and prayer, these past days,” he replied.
“You ken we are yet at risk here, even with all our plans. And if Sybil were any other general, seeking to parley with me — I would do this. I would face this, without qualm or delay, if it meant I might help my kin and my son. If I might save them from a siege, or a battle, or even the threat of this.”
Raye couldn’t hide her wince, the shake of her head. “But Sybil isn’t any other general, Kalfr. She used you. She hurt you. She wants to capture you, to kill you, to steal you from us! She sent you a naked drawing of herself, for goddess’ sake!”
Her voice raked through the surrounding trees, but Kalfr’s eyes stayed steady, even as he nodded.
“This is truth,” he replied. “But it matters not what she says or does. What matters are my own choices in this, and my own kin. My own vows to you, and the trust you have placed in me to guard you, and uphold you, and care for you.”
His own kin. His own vows. Their trust in him. More jolting, painful strikes to Raye’s chest, to her resistance. Kalfr didn’t really think this was a matter of trust? That he needed to do this, to keep his vows and his word? To keep them safe?
“For I… failed you, in this, these past summers,” Kalfr continued, slower now. “Both of you. I did not fight for you, nor for our son, as I swore to do. But” — he drew himself straighter, his eyes flinty — “I wish to do this now. I must do this, for all of us.”
Raye couldn’t find an answer for that, and Gaelfr was silent, too — and the look in Gaelfr’s eyes was pain, and resignation, without a trace of surprise. As if he’d… expected this. As if he’d fully known Kalfr would do something like this.
“And this is not,” Kalfr added, stilted, “as it was before. I no more seek to martyr myself for this, as a sacrifice for our kin, or for the goddess. I see choosing to parley not as a defeat, or a loss, but as — strength. As what a brave, wise Bautul would do.”
Raye still couldn’t speak, because how could they counter this? Kalfr was saying all the right things, but what if it was still a sacrifice somehow, still his own punishment upon himself?
“And I have no wish to hide any of this from you,” Kalfr said, with a heavy exhale. “Instead, I wish — for you both to stand beside me in this. I wish for your support, and your strength. Your trust.”
Goddess damn him, with all his pretty words, his clear explanation, his request for trust. And with how he’d maybe even planned this, how he’d just made himself vulnerable, shown his trust toward them in the most raw, visceral way possible.
As if he’d known he would be asking for this in return, and it stung behind Raye’s eyes, clutched in her throat.
What the hell were they supposed to say to this, what could they do…
And when she glanced toward Gaelfr, she could again see her own struggle in his eyes, could almost hear his voice speaking. Together, we shall address this, and help him, and heal him. We shall guide him back to who he ought to be.
But what if this was the cost? What if it meant still losing Kalfr to their enemy? Did they trust him that much? Could Raye afford to trust him that much? What if she made the wrong decision? What if she failed? What if they all failed?
But then Raye’s eyes found Kalfr’s again, searching his earnest, sincere face.
He was — offering them this. Asking. Meeting them, trusting them.
And in it, he was giving Raye back that power, too.
Being honest with her, and offering her the chance to choose, this time.
Maybe even to refuse, to walk away, to reject him forever…
But — no. She couldn’t. Because deeper than all the rest, she’d still sworn that vow, hadn’t she? And she’d meant it. I’ll do whatever it takes.
Gaelfr still wasn’t arguing either, and the resignation in his own eyes glittered brighter. He would do whatever it took, too. Even if he had to follow Kalfr to the ends of the realm, and kill everyone in his path. And Raye could trust him, too, right? Right?
So she sent up another silent, helpless prayer, and squeezed Kalfr’s hand. And she smiled, even with the water still prickling behind her eyes.
“We trust you, Kalfr,” she said thickly. “And we’ll support you in this. No matter the cost.”