Chapter 53 #2
To Raye’s surprise, Grum’s face deeply flushed, and he rapidly shoved up from the table and began picking up dishes, while muttering something about one of the cooks at Orc Mountain.
To which Eyolf merrily laughed, and elbowed Iyolf in the side.
“Ach, the woman who is always waving around the wooden spoon,” he said, in a not-so-quiet whisper. “Could learn much from her, I ken.”
Grum’s face flushed even redder as he kept collecting dishes, and after a sympathetic grin toward him, Kalfr loudly asked Skirvir how his leg was faring.
Skirvir had only been emancipated from the sickroom late that afternoon, and he was all too happy to wax poetic about the excellent health of his leg, and his recent ill treatment by several unnamed individuals.
Earning him viciously caustic glares from Rurik and Fengr both, and Raye only belatedly noticed that Fengr’s empty plate was vibrating on the table, without him even touching it.
But no more conflicts broke out, and soon the band settled in for another delightful evening of entertainment.
Fengr performed another stunning acrobatic routine, drawing awestruck cheers from everyone present, and at Kalfr’s urging, Raye taught them all one of her favourite Mirkandian folk songs, while Othan thumped a matching merry beat.
And once the children had gone to bed, Raye again threw herself into the evening’s pleasure, and ended up perched spread-eagled on the kitchen table, quivering beneath Gaelfr’s gentle pinches to her breasts, while Kalfr poured himself out inside her.
“Shall you have a turn next, ástin mín?” Kalfr murmured, with a nod toward Raye’s dripping heat, and a suggestive stroke to Gaelfr’s tented trousers — but instead, Gaelfr guided her down to her knees before him, and fed himself into her mouth.
And even as Raye willingly opened for him, it was a brief, nagging sliver of doubt, a reminder of all the darkness she’d almost managed to forget.
She still wasn’t pregnant. Gaelfr still wanted her to have Kalfr’s son.
And it seemed that Gaelfr had fully meant what he’d said, about only fucking her like that the one time.
So what else did Gaelfr still mean, too?
If she didn’t get pregnant, would he still leave?
What about her vow to make amends to Kalfr?
Were either of them still thinking about that, too? Expecting that from her?
But they didn’t show any sign of it, and once they’d all cleaned up again, Kalfr brewed Raye a pot of her favourite rose mallow tea, and made them a snack of fresh fruit and honey.
And as they ate and talked together, they watched as Olarr took pity on a still-limping Skirvir, and invited him to come have a taste of his mate.
Which, to Raye’s rising surprise, meant that once a gasping Aulis had seated his bare muscled body onto Olarr’s jutting pole, his back to Olarr’s front, Skirvir then had permission to kneel between Aulis’ pale thighs, and suck his ruddy length down his throat.
Fengr scoffed at the sight and stalked off, but most of the band’s other orcs were openly staring — Othan’s drumbeat had fully faltered, his eyes bright with mingled envy and longing.
And when Raye shot a searching glance at Kalfr and Gaelfr, they didn’t seem at all surprised by this development, did they?
“Ach, Skirvir is only helping,” Kalfr explained, having caught the look on Raye’s face. “This alters naught between Olarr and Aulis, for they bear a deep bond, and help such as this will not taint nor weaken it.”
Raye’s memory flashed back to the night they’d prayed for a son on the altar, when Kalfr had suggested that perhaps next time, the rest of the band could offer their help, too.
And when she shot an alarmed glance toward him, he and Gaelfr both chuckled, and Gaelfr gave a reassuring pat against her.
“Do not fret, saeta,” he said firmly. “We should never set Skirvir loose upon you thus. You are a precious gift from the goddess, and you must be handled with utmost care, and kept safe at all costs.”
It thrilled through Raye with surprising strength, perhaps just because Gaelfr so rarely said anything like this. And did he really think she was a precious gift? And that she needed to be handled with care, and kept safe? Or was he just saying this for Kalfr, even now?
But Gaelfr leaned in to kiss Raye’s forehead, while Kalfr smiled and nodded, stroking his hand reassuringly to her back. And as they headed to bed together, Raye again shoved the doubt away, and focused on the joy, the peace, the hope.
When she awoke the next morning, it was to a spike of genuine fear — they were down to two short days, now, before Sybil appeared on their doorstep with two hundred men.
But Raye again fought to shove it aside, to focus on their drills and preparations, on her weaving, on the band, on Svein.
It turned out that Gaelfr had decided to schedule a full-band brawling match, to celebrate the band’s dedication to their training, and Grum had gotten into the spirit too, and had begun preparing a hearty slab of marinated venison to roast out in the garden, along with a variety of tubers and mushrooms.
It also turned out that a group of orcs from the mountain had decided to come and help for the afternoon, bringing not only multiple sacks and barrels of food with them, but also their mates and sons.
And Raye exclaimed with genuine pleasure at the sight of multiple women she recognized from the mountain — Rosa the librarian, Daisy the artist, Gwyn the midwife, and a smiling Stella, Silfast’s mate, now with a plump, adorable orc toddler peeking from behind her skirts.
“Look at you, Raye!” Stella exclaimed, as she gave her a quick embrace. “It’s so good to see you again, and looking so well, too! I hope you’ve been settling in here? And your mates have been taking good care of you?”
Raye gratefully smiled and nodded, while Rosa gave an assessing look up and down her body.
“Yes, they certainly have,” she said approvingly.
“They’re very good at that when they want to be, aren’t they?
Kitty even sent you some new dresses, knowing what they’d be up to, and we’ve brought you more food and supplies, too! ”
Beside Rosa, Gwyn wryly smiled and handed Raye a sack — and inside it, there were packets of seeds, bunches of fresh herbs, and several small plants, their roots wrapped in burlap.
“A housewarming gift, for your garden,” Gwyn said.
“Some of my favourites for women’s health, and I’ve heard the amaranth is good for dyeing yarn, too. ”
Raye blinked down at it all with genuine astonishment, her eyes suddenly stinging with tears. “This is — so generous of you all,” she choked. “Thank you.”
Gwyn smiled and waved it away, while Stella glanced sideways toward where Kalfr and Gaelfr were both broadly grinning as they greeted their guests, Gaelfr with an intrigued-looking Svein perched on his hip.
“No, thank you, sister,” Stella said, with feeling.
“Goddess, I can’t remember the last time I saw Kalfr look so well, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile like that!
I’m so glad you and this byrgi have done him so much good. ”
She smiled mistily toward where her huge captain mate Silfast was now hauling Kalfr into a painful-looking hug, and Raye smiled at the sight, too.
While beside them, Rosa had somehow produced a large notebook, and several sharpened pencils.
“Now, you’ll give us the full introductory tour, won’t you?
” she demanded toward Raye. “I’ve wanted to see one of these byrgis for so long, and I need to learn everything! ”
Raye readily agreed, and gave the women a comprehensive tour of the garden, the training-grounds, and then the byrgi itself, while their children raced and played around them.
Both Gwyn and Stella exclaimed over the garden, and Daisy marvelled at Raye’s looms, and shyly asked for a weaving demonstration.
While Rosa pelted Raye with a constant stream of curious questions, and jotted the answers in her notebook.
Kalfr and Gaelfr had been showing the orcs around, too, and come mid-afternoon, they herded everyone out to the training-grounds for Gaelfr’s planned brawling match.
Gaelfr was clearly delighted by the prospect of so many new participants, and once he’d called out the rules of the match, the ring soon erupted into a mass of chaos and noise, with a dozen huge orcs all shouting and charging for each other at once, swinging their huge wooden weapons through the air.
It was far more brutal than any of the training Raye had witnessed so far, and soon Egil was sporting a bloody gash in his forehead, and Skirvir’s leg had begun spurting again, too.
But to Raye’s relief, Kalfr had arranged for Rurik to be standing by, and with Fengr’s help, Rurik flagged down any orcs who appeared to be wounded, and checked them over before sending them back in again.
And the best part, Raye soon discovered, was getting to see Kalfr and Gaelfr fight together.
She’d seen them spar against each other several times now, but she’d never before witnessed them on the same side like this.
Gaelfr was a huge, stubborn wall of defense with his axe, knocking away their foes with a steady stream of vicious wheeling swings, while Kalfr danced and ducked around him, avoiding his axe without even looking, and lashing out at their foes with breathtaking speed and grace.