Chapter 70
Of course, the best part about leaving was meeting Svein again.
“Mama!” he yelped, upon catching sight of her down the tunnel — and he instantly sprang away from where he’d been waiting with Eyolf and Iyolf and Julian, and sprinted straight toward her, his face alight with joy. “And Papas!”
He hurled himself into Raye’s arms with almost enough force to knock her over, but Raye braced herself and squeezed him tight. “Oh, love,” she gasped, and suddenly she was weeping, despite the smile splitting her face. “I’m so glad to see you. So glad you’re safe.”
Svein sniffled and nodded, his body vibrating in her arms, and he jerked back to look at her, his nostrils rapidly flaring. “But you were bleeding, Mama!” he exclaimed, jabbing his claw toward her chest. “Did the bad people hurt you?!”
Raye firmly shook her head, and drew him back into her arms. “No, it’s only a scratch,” she said. “Nothing to worry about. We’ve dealt with all the bad people, haven’t we, Papas?”
She tearfully smiled up toward Kalfr and Gaelfr behind her, and Svein’s tension faded as he followed her gaze — and then he lurched away to throw himself into Gaelfr’s arms, too. “I knew you would come,” he choked. “Thank you, Papa.”
Gaelfr’s eyes suddenly looked weepy, too, and he nodded as he folded Svein close, inhaling deep against his head. “I always shall, my son,” he replied. “I have vowed to keep you and your mother safe, have I not?”
Right. Gaelfr had done that, the very first day he’d come. Even if he hadn’t truly been Raye’s mate, he’d still sworn vows to her. And he’d kept them, all this time.
Svein sniffled and nodded, and hurled himself into Kalfr’s waiting arms, too. “I’m so glad you’re safe, Papa,” he gulped, into Kalfr’s shoulder. “I couldn’t lose you again. Not after you just came back.”
Kalfr’s eyes squeezed shut, and he nodded into Svein’s hair, his shoulders heaving with his breaths.
“I could not bear to lose you again either, son,” he whispered.
“It is such a great honour, to have you as my son. And I know this is yet new to all of us, but” — he drew back to meet Svein’s eyes — “you can always trust us, ach? You can trust me and Papa Gaelfr, just as you can trust your mother. You can be sure we will always care for you, and come for you, whenever you need this. Always.”
Svein’s eyes glimmered with tears, and he nodded, and threw himself back into Kalfr’s arms. And as Raye watched them cling to each other, she could taste the weight of this moment, the meaning it held for Kalfr and Svein both.
Because all of this, today — maybe this had been Svein testing them, too.
Testing all of them. And unlike his own father, Kalfr had been able to prove himself to his son.
He’d come, and protected him, and shown himself the father Svein had always longed for.
“You smell like the bad men, Papa,” Svein finally said, between hiccoughing breaths, as he pulled away from Kalfr, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. “But in a good way. Does that mean you ate them?”
Kalfr let out a choked laugh, and shook his head. “No, naught like that, son,” he said, though his eyes were glancing rather urgently around them. “And ach, what is that up the tunnel? Does Iyolf have a… dog?”
He squinted with increasing disbelief up the tunnel, toward where there indeed seemed to be a furry creature sniffing around at the walls, while Svein grinned and nodded.
“Ach, Papa!” he exclaimed, as he grasped Kalfr’s hand, and began tugging him up the tunnel.
“The dog ran away from the bad men and the big fire, and came to hide with us instead! Iyolf said we can keep it, and we can, can’t we? ”
Kalfr’s expression looked both fond and exasperated, but he accordingly allowed Svein to tug him up the tunnel, with Raye and Gaelfr close behind.
And once the dog caught scent of Kalfr, it immediately ran over to circle and jump around him, whimpering — but thankfully it didn’t bark, and even the whimpering subsided when Iyolf came over to gently stroke the back of its neck.
“Svein has named him Mr. Snoofles, of Clan Terror,” Iyolf informed them, his face grave. “Thus, we must keep him.”
Eyolf had come over to stand behind Iyolf, smiling cheerfully and nodding, as if fully approving of his ástvinur’s impeccable logic. “Iyolf has always wished for a dog,” he told Kalfr, in a wheedling voice. “You would not deny him this, would you?”
Kalfr crouched to pet the dog too, scratching behind its floppy ears with his claws. “No, I ken I cannot,” he said, with a chuckle. “So long as my mate and ástvinur agree with this, also.”
But Raye and Gaelfr both smiled and nodded in unison, and Raye knelt down to greet the dog too, feeling the warmth of its silky fur beneath her fingers. “You’re not nearly so scary when you’re not hunting us, are you?” she murmured. “You’ll make a good friend for Svein too, I think.”
Svein returned this with a leap and an excited whoop, so loud that it echoed through the tunnel, and perhaps out beyond it, too.
Enough that Fengr shot a sharp look back in the direction of the cottage, his hand spread flat to the tunnel wall.
“This is a good time for you to go,” he told them.
“The fire will burn for a while yet, and the men remaining have begun to disperse. But take the longer route around, just to be sure.”
Kalfr nodded, and glanced back down the tunnel again. “And you do not mind staying a spell longer?” he asked Fengr. “I ken Joarr and Olarr will settle what to do with Sybil for now, until the clan can gather upon this. I should be grateful if you could help take her wherever they deem best.”
Fengr easily nodded, and jerked his head toward Skirvir, who was hovering closely behind him. “Ach, we well know how to handle her,” he replied. “Do we not, big brute?”
Skirvir eagerly nodded, his cheeks betraying a distinctive flush, and Fengr smirked as he waved Kalfr off. “Now go, and take your kin and your new pup home,” he said. “And mayhap stop for a bath, also.”
His nose wrinkled as his gaze dropped to Kalfr’s ash- and blood-streaked body, and Kalfr smiled back as he clasped Fengr on the shoulder. “Thank you, brother,” he replied. “I ken we may not have gained this today without you, and your great gifts.”
Fengr huffed and rolled his eyes, but there was no mistaking the look of gratification on his face as he again waved them off. And once Kalfr had thanked Skirvir, too, their group headed toward the exit together — Kalfr and Raye and Gaelfr and Svein, and Eyolf and Iyolf, and Mr. Snoofles, too.
It turned out that Fengr had been right, and there was no sign of any men as they crept out of the tunnel’s opening together.
However, there was a distinctive reek of smoke in the air, along with the distant sounds of popping and snapping.
Raye’s beloved little cottage, still burning to the ground to keep them safe, and she spoke a silent prayer of thanks to the goddess as they headed into the cover of trees. They were together, and they were safe.
It still felt too new, too fragile, to be real, but with every step away from the cottage, it settled steadier in Raye’s chest. The smell of smoke was fading, there was no sign of men following, and Svein seemed surprisingly calm and content, alternately clinging onto Kalfr and Gaelfr’s backs, and giggling as he watched Mr. Snoofles prance around Eyolf and Iyolf up ahead.
And soon they found a bubbling creek, where they stopped and drank and cleaned up the worst of the blood and dirt and soot, washing it away into the clean, cold water.
Once they’d finished, Kalfr murmured something to Eyolf, who then loudly suggested to Svein that they play a game of catch with Mr. Snoofles.
And as Svein gleefully began racing around the nearby trees with Eyolf and Iyolf and Mr. Snoofles, Kalfr squared his shoulders, and turned toward Raye and Gaelfr.
“I wish to speak to you both,” he said, on a heavy exhale. “And tell you — I am sorry.”
Raye blinked, while Kalfr took a breath, and clasped her hand in his. “For… you were right, Raye,” he continued, quiet. “With what you told us, this morn. I have not… trusted you. And I have not trusted you, Gael, either.”
Raye’s glance toward Gaelfr found him watching Kalfr intently, and Kalfr reached his other hand to catch Gaelfr’s, too.
“But you ken,” he went on, his voice rough, “I have not trusted anyone, as long as I can remember. Not my father, not our clan, not our leaders nor our mountain. None of this was safe, ach? It was never, ever safe. I never learnt how to do this — until you, Gael.”
He gave a half-smile, half-grimace toward Gaelfr, lacing their fingers together. “And mayhap my way of learning to trust you, Gael,” he added, lower, “was to test you. To push you away, with all my strength, and see if you would come back.”
Raye swallowed, searched Gaelfr’s face — but to her vague surprise, he was already nodding, and fondly smiling toward Kalfr’s face.
“And you think I do not know this, ástin mín?” he replied, his voice soft, even gentle.
“I have always known this. I am glad for you to test me. I am honoured to prove my love and fealty to you, as oft and as long as you need this from me.”
It sounded genuine, utterly sincere, and it tugged at a too-familiar strand in Raye’s tangled thoughts.
This was Gaelfr — caring again. Tending again.
Offering up his help, his strength, his stubborn steadfast support.
Drawing upon something that was bound deep into the core of him — something that perhaps had always been there, or that perhaps he and Kalfr had woven together, through all these years of pushing and pulling between them.