Chapter 42
Surveying the byrgi with Kalfr was delightful.
Raye hadn’t at all known what to expect, but according to Kalfr, a voreur and his watcher would usually survey the byrgi each morning, reviewing the tunnels, the grounds, the altar, the beacon, the garden, and even the surrounding forest.
“But today,” he told her, as they headed down the stairs toward the tunnels, “our aim will be to review our stores and defenses, and see where these may best be strengthened. How we may best prepare for an attack.”
That made sense, and they began in the root cellar and storeroom, doing a rough assessment of what was currently there — bulbs and root vegetables, barrels of salted meat, dried herbs and mushrooms, fruit preserves, and small canvas sacks of carefully saved nuts and seeds.
It would have been more than enough to keep Raye and Svein well fed throughout a long winter, but now, with over a dozen orcs to feed, they would be lucky if it lasted a week.
“I think these food stores will need to be one of our biggest priorities,” Raye said, with a cautious glance toward Kalfr. “It would be good to at least triple this, don’t you think? And what do you think about starting that underground mushroom garden, too?”
She half-expected Kalfr to argue, especially since a mushroom garden was another longer-term project, highly unlikely to offer any harvest in the near future.
But Kalfr’s eyes flared with undeniable interest, and he nodded.
“We will speak to Grum, and have him begin to lead this,” he replied.
“I also wondered if mayhap we could yet do some hunting and foraging at night, even during a siege — but we would need at least one more hidden exit nearby, and strong barriers upon it, in case ever it was found by men.”
It was an excellent point, so next they reviewed possible locations for additional exits, while also taking a fresh look over all the byrgi’s underground rooms and tunnels.
A worthwhile endeavour, it turned out, since one of the empty bedrooms had begun to leak in one corner, and another one showed signs of a recent vermin infestation.
Rurik also poked his head out of his temporary sickroom to demand better ventilation be dug out, while in the band’s sleeping-den, Kalfr nearly sliced his head open on the blade of a gigantic sharpened axe, which Skirvir had apparently hung just above the door, where it was liable to fall onto someone’s head at any moment.
“Was this not why they made a muster-room?” Kalfr grumbled as he swung down the axe, and marched it across the corridor into the muster-room. “Only Skirvir would think this a good place to keep his axe.”
Raye choked a laugh, even as she wrinkled her nose at the mess of clothes, boots, sacks, and weapons now strewn haphazardly around the muster-room.
“Well, it is a bit chaotic in here, isn’t it?
” she asked. “Maybe if we started work on that storage furniture Eyolf mentioned, that would help avoid any accidental beheadings in future?”
Her smile toward Kalfr felt both wincing and hopeful, because that would be yet another longer-term project, wouldn’t it? And Kalfr hadn’t wanted to commit to the furniture earlier, either. He’d thought it a waste of time, in the face of the looming attack, and the band’s potential deaths.
And though he shot her a wry look, as if he knew exactly what she was doing, he sighed, and nodded. “Ach, mayhap,” he said. “If only to keep Gael from beheading Skirvir himself, once he learns of this.”
Raye’s laugh was bright and easy this time, and she felt her courage growing as they headed upstairs together.
Not only was Kalfr making plans again, thinking of the future — but he was also working with her.
Listening to her. Considering her input.
As if he really was trying to meet her in this, and trust her.
Upstairs, they had a quick but helpful meeting with Grum about their food storage plans, and then turned their attention to reviewing the byrgi’s main floor.
And though they found fewer immediate hazards, Raye noticed many more potential weaknesses, too.
“All the bars and stone and steel will be a great help,” she told Kalfr, waving toward the solid stone walls, the fitted steel front door, the barred windows.
“But based on my experience, fire will still be our most pressing concern. Especially if our enemies decide to climb up to the chimneys, or bank wood around the house, or throw torches through the shutters. Is there any way we can help address those risks, while still keeping the appearance of an ordinary house? Spikes and palisades probably would be too much, and we don’t have time to grow thorny hedges… but maybe hidden ditches? A moat?”
She shot a searching, sheepish smile toward Kalfr, half-expecting him to scoff, or refuse — but he flashed a smile back, and oh, it was his old stunning smile, the one that had always made her heart dip, and hurled the rest of the world away.
“I had not thought about the chimneys, or the windows,” he told her.
“We must speak to William and Soren upon this. I ken they are doing their own surveying outdoors, should you wish to go there next? Unless” — he hesitated, and glanced up to the loft — “you would rather return to your weaving?”
But Raye couldn’t bear the thought of stopping now, and after promising Kalfr she would have plenty of time for weaving tomorrow, she accompanied him outdoors, and toward the altar.
Where they found Soren and William poking around and taking measurements, planning for new tunnels below.
And though William grinned and genially greeted them from beneath his large hat, Soren had apparently wrapped himself in a huge old quilt to avoid the sun, and upon hearing Kalfr’s questions, he began crisply barking responses through the small holes he’d cut in the fabric.
“No, you cannot dig moats or ditches anywhere near our tunnels,” he snapped, muffled and irate.
“Lest you wish them to collapse in upon you, or grant your enemies a shining path to follow so they might stab you in your sleep. Or mayhap you long to be drowned in your sleep instead? Or live with mold and dampness for the rest of your days, until you cough yourself to death?”
Raye blinked at the vitriol in his voice, while beside him, William gave an apologetic smile, and nudged at Soren’s quilt with his elbow.
“My mate means to say,” he told Raye and Kalfr, “that moats and ditches may weaken our tunnels. If you fear fires here, you would be wiser to dig a good well, and find means to store the water where it might be needed. And” — he rubbed thoughtfully at his nose — “we ought to consider at least one more escape tunnel, also, and make sure this can be fully blocked.”
That sounded like a logical plan to Raye, and aligned well with what Kalfr had already suggested, too. And after more discussion, Soren and William agreed to begin scouting locations underground for the well, with a goal of beginning to dig the following day, if possible.
It was a start, at least, and Raye’s optimism simmered brighter as next they reviewed the garden together.
Eyolf and Iyolf had been working on the largest vegetable patch, but upon seeing Raye and Kalfr, they both came over to greet them — or rather, Eyolf greeted them, while Iyolf stood quietly behind him, occasionally darting uneasy glances toward Raye.
But once Raye and Kalfr explained their forthcoming food storage priorities, Eyolf and Iyolf both turned out to be knowledgeable and helpful, offering opinions and suggestions, and agreeing to work closely with Grum on the project.
By the time they finished their discussion, the sun had begun to lower in the sky. And upon fully catching sight of it, Raye froze, and clapped both hands over her mouth. “Svein!” she exclaimed. “Gods, it’s been so long, and he can’t still be in his room, can he? Fuck, Kalfr, we need to —”
But Kalfr’s smile was easy and reassuring, and he nodded toward the other side of the garden. “Ach, Gael brought him out a good while ago,” he replied. “I can scent them together just over there.”
Raye fervently thanked him, and after a quick farewell to Eyolf and Iyolf, they headed across the garden, toward where Raye vaguely remembered there being a small clearing. And once they reached it, they found Gaelfr and Svein there together, wrapping tattered furs around an old tree trunk.
“There you are, Mama!” Svein exclaimed, as he dashed over to throw both arms around Raye’s waist, and then around Kalfr’s, too. “I’ve been helping Papa Gaelfr set up a training ground!”
A training ground? Raye cast a closer look over the clearing, eyeing the ropes and stakes set into the clearing’s short vegetation — meant to mark off sparring rings, perhaps.
There were also what appeared to be several makeshift archery targets tucked into the trees, along with several more fur-wrapped tree trunks, too.
“They’re training dummies, Mama!” Svein informed her, as he dashed over to poke at the one he and Gaelfr had been working on. “I helped Papa Gaelfr make them, didn’t I, Papa?”
Gaelfr fondly smiled back, while beside Raye, Kalfr looked genuinely impressed. “This is good work, both of you,” he said. “And it all shall be easy to cover and hide, too, if we have need of this. This is just what a good battle-captain would do.”
Gaelfr visibly straightened, his grin warm and relieved.
“Ach, it was naught,” he said gruffly. “But also, I have devoted much thought to all your clever new plans, ástin mín, and to how a good battle-captain might best uphold you. So I wish” — he puffed out his chest — “to teach your band defense. How best to fight humans, without maiming or killing them.”
Kalfr’s brows drew together, as a distinct skepticism flared across his eyes. “You wish to teach this,” he repeated, deadpan. “And you know how to do this?”