Chapter 29
They all needed to leave. At once.
Raye gaped at Kalfr, at his haggard face, at the determination flickering through his empty eyes. He meant that. He… meant that? He wanted them all to leave, now? Today?
“But… we just got here!” Raye sputtered. “It’s not safe for us to go back yet! And Svein, he’ll be…”
Gods, she couldn’t even say it. They couldn’t leave, not now, no. And when Raye shot a helpless look at Gaelfr, he looked just as disbelieving as she felt, and his deep, sudden growl felt like a relief. He wouldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t.
“Wait here,” he said, through gritted teeth, with a sharp glance between Raye and Kalfr. “Grant me one moment.”
He didn’t wait for their answer, only spun and strode off, toward where Olarr and Aulis were now play-sparring with the children.
And after a few clipped words with them, Gaelfr knelt and spoke to Svein, who nodded, and cheerfully waved toward Raye.
And though Raye dredged up a smile and a wave back, she could scarcely tear her eyes away from Gaelfr, who now stalked back toward them, his eyes flashing in the afternoon sunlight.
“They will care for Svein indoors, whilst we address this,” he said flatly. “Now come, both of you. To the altar.”
To the altar? Raye blinked, but allowed Gaelfr to steer her toward the rocky stone wall, where they followed along its base until it dipped out of sight of the house.
And at the edge of the garden, beyond a thick hedge of shrubs and trees, there was a rock.
The large, flat rock Raye and Gaelfr had noticed the day before, from up on the bluff.
The rock that had looked to be stained with blood.
Gaelfr headed straight toward it, and as Raye glanced around, she found the rock was entirely out of view of the house, and apart from a small opening toward the garden, it was almost entirely concealed by the surrounding shelter of shrubs and trees.
And surely that was why Gaelfr had brought them here, so they could speak in private, and…
“Kneel,” Gaelfr snapped, curt, with a wave toward the flat stone. “Both of you. Now.”
Raye blinked at him, but his eyes glinted with purpose, and with something not unlike fury. “I said, kneel,” he hissed. “We will pray to the goddess at her altar, and seek her wisdom, and learn how best to face this threat. Together.”
Kalfr was staring at Gaelfr too, and his breath escaped in a scoff, or maybe a laugh. “No, Gael,” he said. “You need to leave. All of you. Now. I will not allow you — and most of all Svein — to be caught in my failure, and my fate!”
His voice scraped up Raye’s spine, because what did he mean, his fate? With that cruel Sybil woman who’d hurt him, and that horrid Lord Nash? And if they were really coming here, and Kalfr wanted them to leave here, that meant…
“You’re not… planning to face them alone?” Raye demanded. “To stay here, and wait for Sybil to come to you? Or what, her mercenaries? Her army?”
Her voice came out shrill, incredulous, and her frantic glance toward Gaelfr found his eyes glittering, his head jerking a tight nod.
“Ach, this was your plan all along, was it not?” he said, with an angry wave toward Kalfr.
“You wait here alone for Sybil to come to you, and then you martyr yourself to her?”
What? Raye’s mouth fell open, her eyes darting back and forth between them, but Kalfr wasn’t countering this, his face drawn tight.
And Gaelfr’s mouth twisted as he stared back at him, his nostrils flaring.
“You have even made it easy for her, have you not?” he continued, jabbing his claw toward the flat stone beside them.
“Bleeding yourself out all over this altar, and thus proclaiming your scent for her to find!”
No. No. The horror leapt in Raye’s chest, and she gaped at that huge dark stain across the altar. It truly was blood — Kalfr’s blood, he’d done that on purpose — and yes, he was rubbing at his upper left arm, at that place where the scars now looked like the lines of a sword, or an axe.
“Ach, I did,” he hissed back, as he dropped his hand, clamped it to a fist. “There is no escaping this, Gael. For Sybil took all her clothes from where she had touched me, and then parcelled these out to her bands of mercenaries, all across the realm. So they can track me with their dogs wherever I go!”
The horror wrenched higher, sick and bitter in Raye’s throat, while Kalfr barked a laugh that wasn’t a laugh at all.
“I sought to escape this for many moons, and failed,” he continued, his voice cracking.
“She and her bands of men followed wherever I went. I could not hunt. I could not travel. I could not help with the byrgis we were building. I could not teach any outdoor classes at our school. I could not earn nearly as much coin as I had before. And most of all, I could not —”
He darted a hunted glance toward Raye, and she stared back, her heart distantly wailing against her ribs. “You couldn’t risk coming anywhere near Svein,” she finished, her voice a whisper. “For the last… the last year?”
Kalfr choked another hard laugh, passing his hand over his eyes.
“Not that I could otherwise, either,” he croaked.
“But I could no more even come close enough to bring you goods, or fully scent Svein, or you. I had to rely upon our scouts instead, and I did not want to risk them staying long to watch you, either. But if it had been me, I might have at least scented that you needed more help, that I needed to find more coin, that you were —”
He waved wildly toward Raye, toward — oh.
Her skinny, bony body beneath her shabby, filthy dress.
Because yes, her malnourishment was still far too obvious, even despite all Gaelfr’s recent efforts, and the humiliation burned hot and then cold in her gut.
Kalfr didn’t want her, he didn’t trust her, and she couldn’t trust him, either.
He hadn’t told her any of this, he hadn’t warned her about the danger, hadn’t even written a damned letter…
She had to fight the sudden urge to laugh, or maybe sob, because of course Kalfr hadn’t sent her a letter. She’d ordered him not to. She’d thrown all his letters in the fire. She’d threatened to take Svein across the sea. Gods damn it.
“Then you should have fought these men hunting you,” Gaelfr snarled at Kalfr. “The Bautul should have sent a war-band, and destroyed them!”
But Kalfr laughed again, harsher this time. “We cannot,” he spat back. “We cannot start another whole war over this woman’s spite toward me. This would destroy us all, and this is just what she most wishes for!”
Gaelfr had begun pacing before the altar, his growl a steady burn in his throat. “Well, if she wishes for this so much, then why has she not already accused you of defiling her, and thus breaking this treaty!”
Kalfr’s laugh sounded tired, now. “Because of who she is,” he replied, his voice heavy.
“For Sybil is not just any woman, you ken. She is the favoured mistress of Lord Nash, and longs to someday see herself as queen of the realm. Thus, she would not wish it known that she has bedded an orc, no matter the reasons behind this.”
Raye’s gaze snapped to Gaelfr, and found his own astonished eyes gazing back toward her.
“But… the realm is run by a council of lords,” she said, a beat too late.
“There is no king. Lord Nash certainly isn’t king.
And why the hell would Lord Nash send his favourite mistress all the way here, to you? ”
It came out sounding suspicious, accusatory, and Raye almost couldn’t bear the way Kalfr looked back at her, with such blank emptiness in his eyes.
“Lord Nash wishes to seize control of this Council, and make himself king,” he replied.
“This attempt at a poison attack against our mountain was part of this. Mayhap to gain acclaim for our defeat, or to gain the mountain itself, and all the goods and gold within it. But whatever the aim” — his blank eyes slid past Raye — “Lord Nash has taken great pains to hide his plans from the lords and Council, and is relying on his own trusted allies instead. Thus, Sybil was the leader of this attack, and I was the one who went to meet her, and…”
His hand gave an aimless wave, his shoulders slumping. While Gaelfr kept pacing, shaking his head, his face flushed and twisted with rage. “Then you ought to have come for me,” he snapped. “You ought to have escaped this foul woman, and run across the sea!”
Kalfr’s shoulders sagged further, and he shook his head. “I wished to,” he said, heavy. “But I feared leading her to you, also. If she behaved thus after learning of Raye and Svein, what shall she do when she learns my lifelong love is an orc?”
The words hung and swayed between them, swallowing the air, stoppering Raye’s breath. Kalfr’s lifelong love was an orc. It was… Gaelfr. And that shouldn’t be a surprise, it wasn’t, so why did it feel like this, why couldn’t Raye breathe?
“And I already told you,” Kalfr continued, lower, on a sharp exhale. “I could not bear to leave Raye and Svein. I could not stand to forever lose their bonds thus, either.”
Raye’s lungs expanded again, because it meant… it meant some part of Kalfr had cared. Even if he cared for Gaelfr more, he still hadn’t wanted to leave them. He’d wanted to know they were safe.
“And whilst Sybil and her men failed to seize me,” Kalfr added, grimacing, “they also found two of the byrgis I had helped build, due to my scent upon them. And this, Lord Nash did take to that cursed Council — and they gladly began this new campaign against us. Seeking out not only our byrgis, but” — his mouth crumpled — “our women, and our sons.”
Oh. Oh, gods. So those mercenaries at Raye’s house — those threats against her and Svein — those really had been because of this. Because of Kalfr.