Chapter 19
Raye clapped both hands over her mouth, muffling her shocked cry. While Gaelfr’s huge body crashed with Kalfr’s to the stone floor below, and landed with a hard, gut-wrenching thud.
“You lying coward,” Gaelfr spat, as he groped for Kalfr’s neck, and shoved him down against the stone. “How dare you seek to hide from me. To speak false to me. To betray me!”
The fury and anguish shuddered through his voice, spiking more shocked panic through Raye’s gut. Would Gaelfr… hurt Kalfr? Would he kill him? What did he mean, Kalfr had lied to him, betrayed him?
For a frozen instant, Kalfr only stared up at Gaelfr’s face — but then, in a fierce sudden movement, he kicked up, and twisted out from beneath Gaelfr’s grip.
“I betrayed you?” he gasped, shoving up to his staggering feet.
“You left me! You went away across the sea, for all these summers, and thus broke our bond in every way there was to do this! And for what? What was so important there? What kept you there, all that time?”
Gaelfr growled, and hurled his huge bulk back at Kalfr again. “You, Kalfr,” he snarled. “I stayed there because of you! As you wished me to do!”
His fist caught Kalfr’s shoulder, staggering him sideways, but Kalfr quickly caught his footing again, his tall body crouched low, his hands in fists.
“I never asked this of you,” he shot back.
“I should never have wished my ástvinur to run so far away from me, where I could no more even feel my bond with him!”
Gaelfr began pacing around Kalfr, his shoulders hunched, his teeth bared. “And how else,” he countered, “did you expect me to bear what you did ask of me? You spurned me and our vows. You swore never to touch me again, so that you might better please her!”
He waved a furious hand across the room, toward…
Raye. And Raye froze in place, gazing unblinking toward him, while more alarm kicked and churned in her gut.
So Gaelfr did know about that vow Kalfr had made, then.
I will spurn my bond with Gaelfr, and I will never touch him thus again, without your leave.
But Gaelfr wasn’t looking at her, his narrow eyes still fixed on Kalfr’s face.
“You swore a vow to her, against me,” he hissed.
“You swore never to touch me again, until she allowed this. And in doing this, you banished me! For how else would we have kept this vow? Had I not left, we would have broken this vow before the next moon!”
His deep voice echoed through the room, shuddered even deeper in Raye’s belly. Because — oh. Kalfr would have betrayed her with Gaelfr, if Gaelfr had stayed. And Gaelfr had left so Kalfr could keep his vow and be faithful to her, but — but —
“We would not,” Kalfr hissed back, and he began circling Gaelfr too, his steps swift and silent on the stone. “We would have yet found a way to honour this, had you stayed. For I should have first cut off my own arm, before doing aught to harm my own precious son!”
His voice cracked with genuine pain, his hand snapping up to spasm against his bare flexed bicep.
To where — Raye’s eyes caught, stilled — his grey skin was slightly rippled, and paler.
At first glance, it looked like a burn scar, but now that Raye was looking closer, it might have also been several distinct, deep straight cuts, all on top of each other…
Gaelfr was looking too, his brow furrowing, his circling steps faltering.
And in that breath, Kalfr flew toward him, striking his fist straight at Gaelfr’s face, hard enough that Gaelfr’s head knocked back, his roar thundering through the room.
But when Kalfr swung again, Gaelfr staggered sideways out of his reach, shaking his head back and forth.
“Ach, you cared thus for your son, so then you spurned him, also?” Gaelfr demanded, and he lunged for Kalfr again, his fist narrowly missing Kalfr’s face this time.
“You abandoned your precious son, and left him to be starved and attacked, with no help from our clan or kin! Whilst you yourself” — he flailed a furious hand at Kalfr — “abandoned your great gifts as a warrior, and your great calling amongst our kin, so you can play-act here as a farmer, and wallow about alone in the dirt! You broke your vows to me, for naught!”
Kalfr’s head shook, his mouth contorting, and his narrow eyes darted a brief look toward Raye. “I have done my best for Svein,” he told Gaelfr, his voice thin. “I was not able to stay with him, but I yet did all I could for him. I sent scouts. Goods. Food. Furs. Every last coin I earned.”
Gaelfr growled and charged again, this time driving his shoulder into Kalfr’s chest, knocking him multiple steps backward.
“This is not enough,” he snarled. “Even if you were barred from Svein’s home, you ought to have yet stayed close.
You ought to have guarded our son, and hunted fresh meat for him each day.
You ought to have seen that he was at great risk of starving, and death! ”
Starving. Death. It plummeted all through Raye’s body, driving her breaths fast and shallow, and she backed up against the wall behind her, gripping at the solid cool stone. Still watching, shivering, as Kalfr’s shoulders heaved, his eyes glittering with fury, with pain.
“You were not here, Gael!” he shot back, though his voice wavered.
“And mayhap you have forgotten that we have only just escaped a war with men. A war that killed both our fathers, and hundreds — thousands — of our Bautul kin. But now that this war is finally finished, we are all bound to a peace treaty! One we all swore to honour, before our kin, and the goddess. And as part of this” — he dragged in a breath — “we swore not to harm any human, nor to steal any person away from them. Even our own sons!”
The words swung through Raye’s skull, while Kalfr began circling Gaelfr again, his shoulders hunched.
“So if I had spurned her wishes,” he continued, with a furious jerk of his head toward Raye, “and camped outside that cottage each day, leaving my scent all over those woods, what should have kept her from reporting me? And what should have kept Svein from coming to me, or even following me home to the mountain? And then” — his throat bobbed — “what should have spared me from charges of kidnapping? What should have kept me from starting another war, on behalf of all our kin?”
Another war. More stark, dizzying misery careened through Raye’s shivering body, because… no. No. That wouldn’t have happened. Could it? And Svein wouldn’t have followed Kalfr out into the woods, or all the way to the mountain… or would he?
“And you know how we were raised amidst this war, Gael,” Kalfr went on, hoarse.
“What this was like, in our clan. How we never knew our mothers. How our fathers had little time to care for us. How we ourselves were driven to fight far too young, and how easily we both could have met our deaths. You ken Svein would have been spared any of this, had this war begun anew? You ken I wished this fate for my own son?”
Gaelfr betrayed a grimace, his head shaking, and Kalfr shook his head, too. “I had to do this,” Kalfr replied, his voice deepening, breaking. “I had to sacrifice my own life, my own son, to save him and all our kin from death!”
His voice pounded through the room, striking Raye harder against the solid wall behind her. Kalfr had truly mistrusted her that much, enough to think she would gladly re-launch a war, against her own son’s people? No, no, she wouldn’t, she wouldn’t —
“I wouldn’t,” Raye croaked, into the sudden, swinging silence. “I wouldn’t. Have… reported you. For anything.”
Both Kalfr and Gaelfr’s heads snapped toward her, their bodies halting mid-step — and Raye fought for more breath, more bravery. “And it’s not,” she added, “like anyone would have listened to me anyway. Or cared about a missing orc child.”
There was another instant of heavy, empty silence, Kalfr’s eyes glittering hard on hers — and then he laughed. Laughed, the sound cold and bitter, jangling through the room, scraping painfully up Raye’s spine.
“You ken, Raye?” he asked, cool and mocking.
“These men, who have spent every moon since this treaty seeking to find new ways to accuse us, and blame us for starting a war? These men, who hate and fear how much strength and growth this treaty has granted us? These men, who long for naught more than to plunder our mountain, and spill our sons’ blood beneath their feet? ”
His voice had grown even colder and sharper, his hands in tight fists, his lip curled. “No, they should not have cared one jot about Svein,” he spat. “Nor about you. But they would have gladly used him, and you, if it meant they could destroy us!”
Raye could only stare back at him, gasping for breath, for some kind of answer.
While Kalfr kept watching her, his eyes hard with fury, with contempt, with that stark, vicious hatred.
“And why should I have ever believed you would not have reported this?” he demanded.
“Or mayhap then chosen to abandon Svein forever, as my mother did to me? You hid my own son from me, Raye. You banished me from his life. You kept him from his own clan and kin. You refused to hear my offers or my pleas, and those of any others I sent to you. You refused offers of shelter, of safety, of schooling for our son. And then” — his voice deepened — “you swore that if ever I showed you my face again, or wrote you one more letter, you would take my son across the sea, and never bring him back!”
The rage vibrated through his voice, churned bitter and nauseating through Raye’s stomach.
Because yes, curse her, all of that was true.
She’d refused all Kalfr’s offers. She’d refused to see everyone else he’d sent.
She’d believed it was all more danger, more lies.
And she hadn’t known Kalfr’s mother had abandoned him, and he’d really thought she would abandon Svein, he’d really believed her threat about the sea…
Raye shot a helpless glance toward Gaelfr, but that made it even worse. Because he was blinking back toward her, his head tilting, and that was surprise flickering across his eyes, and distaste, and maybe even disappointment.
“She… swore this to you?” Gaelfr asked, with a searching look toward Kalfr. “To take Svein away from you, across the sea? But” — his mouth twisted — “she did not know I had gone away thus also… ach?”
Raye couldn’t reply, but she shook her head, saying no — and Kalfr barked another harsh, bitter laugh.
“I always wondered if she knew,” he rasped, passing his hand over his eyes.
“For it was such a perfect strike against me, was it not? After I had already lost my ástvinur to this, and thereby learnt the great, unceasing sorrow of breaking a bond thus? Forever losing even the faintest trace of you, Gael, and thus fearing with every day, every breath, that you were dead?”
Raye’s throat convulsed, her eyes darting to Gaelfr’s suddenly pale face, while Kalfr huffed another bitter laugh, his shoulders sagging. “Even without the threat of this war,” he said, toward the floor, “I could not have borne this loss again, with Svein. Nor… with her.”
Nor with her. With Raye, he meant.
And that couldn’t be true… could it? Kalfr hadn’t wanted to forever lose Raye’s scent, like he’d lost Gaelfr’s? As if he’d still cared about her, as if he’d still wanted her, even after all this time…
Raye’s breaths heaved, and the catch in her throat lurched, dangerously close to a sob. That couldn’t be true, he couldn’t have meant it, please…
“So if this is truth,” Gaelfr cut in, “then what is this?”
He groped into his trouser pocket, snatched out a folded square of paper, and snapped it open before Kalfr’s eyes. Showing him — oh. The portrait. The one of Kalfr himself, standing there thin and strained, with the beautiful woman clutching tightly to his arm.
“What?” Kalfr said blankly, as he blinked at the portrait, and then back to Gaelfr. “How… where did you find this?”
His face looked hollow, suddenly, haggard, and Gaelfr slowly shook his head, his teeth bared. “I ken not who sent it to me,” he hissed, “but it is yet truth. Is it not?”
Kalfr swallowed, while Gaelfr growled, deep and menacing. “Do not seek to deny this, Kalfr,” he continued. “This woman’s sickly scent yet lingers upon you. Upon your hands. Your mouth. Your prick!”
Something had begun buzzing in Raye’s ears, pitching in her gut. Kalfr really had done that, then? He’d bedded that woman? Cared for that woman?
Kalfr didn’t deny it, and his breath exhaled, his eyes slowly closing. Saying… yes. Yes. He had.
And it shouldn’t have hurt like that. Shouldn’t have swarmed such dizzying misery through Raye’s head, her heart. She’d banished Kalfr from her life years ago. He’d had every right to touch whomever he’d pleased. She wasn’t supposed to care…
But she did, and her one bizarre, disorienting consolation was Gaelfr. Gaelfr, crumpling up the portrait, and hurling it across the room. So he could lunge his big body at Kalfr, grab him roughly by the shoulders, look him in the eyes…
“Now tell me,” he snarled. “Where is she?”