“I ought not,” Rathgarr’s low voice began, making Geva twitch, her eyes angling reflexively toward his hard profile. “To have asked to scent your hair. I ken this was not… part of our plan.”
Geva twitched again, but managed a shrug, and kept walking, her eyes again staring straight ahead. Just a job. One month, and then the sea.
Rathgarr made an odd harrumphing noise, but then fell silent, because they were now passing a gaggle of schoolgirls, all of them pointing and gasping and whispering. And abruptly dragging Geva’s gloomy thoughts back to poor Cecily, stuck on that horrid trip with the Fitzwalds, much like she herself was stuck on this horrid trip to Orc Mountain.
“You are yet angry,” cut in Rathgarr’s voice, grating up Geva’s spine. “Why? Because I did not stay with you last eve, after yousaidyou did not wish for this?”
Geva didn’t deign to answer that, so of course the bastard just kept speaking, his voice deepening. “Or mayhap because I did not speak sweet false words to you before I left?” he asked, now with an unmistakable tinge of mockery. “Ach, did you wish me to fuss and croon over you, as if you are the most stunning creature to ever bear my scent?”
Good gods, this uttercretin, and Geva shot him a look of purest loathing, and put a good arms-length of distance between them. “No, you ghastly swine,” she hissed back. “I’m angry because you ruined mylife. You destroyed mycareer. You asked me to work for you, you negotiated on what Ithoughtwere fair terms, you swore to keep mesafe!”
Rathgarr visibly bristled, his eyes dangerously narrowing, but now that Geva had started speaking, she couldn’t seem to stop. “You left me all alone,” her voice spat, “in the middle of gods know where, with no food or coin or protection, so you could go off and tryst with someone else! And then you waltz back in this morning, and decide to start up on myhair, of all things?!”
She was shaky and breathless by the end of it, genuinely shouting at this awful bastard in the middle of the road, and earning for her trouble an extremely dubious stare from a passing elderly man. But she kept glaring at Rathgarr, who was blinking back down toward her, and looking… confused?
“I did notgo off and tryst,” he replied, his voice clipped. “I would not touch another thus, not whilst I seek to build my scent upon you. This should risk betraying our deceit to my brothers, ach? They well know how jealous you women are, and how closely you guard your mates.”
Really?Really? Geva’s brief surge of highly unnerving relief had already drained entirely away, her mouth fallen open, her hand on her hip — but then she flailed around and kept walking, far faster than before. This prick. This gods-damned, lily-livered, shrivelled-brained —
“I was only out sparring, last eve,” Rathgarr’s flat voice continued, because of course he’d easily kept pace with her, his face now glowering straight ahead. “With one of Orc Mountain’s scouts. He has been… meeting me, when he is near. I have been away from my own kind’s best warriors for too long, and thus am not now in strong fettle to fight them, ach?”
Geva’s feet tripped beneath her, and she whipped around to stare at Rathgarr again, her disbelief surging higher in her chest. “What do you mean,fightthem?” she demanded. “Wait, do you think the other orcs will meet your return to Orc Mountain withviolence?! I thought you said theyaskedyou to return!”
Rathgarr’s lip was curling, his eyes sharp and contemptuous. “Ach, theydidsend for me,” he shot back. “And no, I do not ken they shall seek to attack me thus. But neither do I wish to show myself weak and wrong-footed before them!”
Geva sneered back up toward him, while a grating laugh escaped from her throat. “Oh, so once again, it’s all about you putting on a good show, is that it?” she scoffed. “Making the other orcs believe that you’re a skilled, desirable, well-adjusted paragon of orcish honour, rather than the smug, smarmy, out-of-shapecrookthat you actuallyare! Do you really think they won’t see through all your sad sorryrubbish?”
Rathgarr lurched toward her with surprising speed, his hard, rumbling growl vibrating through her chest. “Silence, woman,” he snarled. “You agreed to this. You have sworn to help me in this. Youwishedfor my seed last eve, and my touch, and then wished me to go away! And when I did this, and now offer you my truth, you snipe and sulk like one of your spoilt brats, and call me aswineand acrook?”
Geva flinched despite herself, shaking her head, because that surely wasn’t what was happening here, was it? He deserved this, he’d been rude and dismissive and presumptuous, he’d wanted to spray in herhair, he’d ruined herlife—
But her anger was already draining away, leaving behind something like regret, or even guilt. Damn it.Damnit. She was supposed to be trying to make this work, not insulting him, or yelling at him. Especially, curse her, after shehadimplied she hadn’t wanted him to stay last night. That perhaps he hadn’t deserved to stay. Because he was anorc.
She was already squaring her shoulders, opening her mouth to apologize — when Rathgarr lunged another step closer, his eyes glittering with cold fury. “You are here atmywhim, woman, formygold,” he continued, his growl even deeper than before. “This is all. I shall not treat you as some fine frail goddess, just because you have deigned to touch me and bear my scent! And if you do not wish to be truly left behind all alone, withnoneof my food or gold or guarding” — he jabbed a sharp claw toward her chest — “you shall henceforth be meek, and yielding, andquiet. You shall be the hireling you are, and obey me!”
His furious voice rang and echoed in Geva’s ears — a hireling, left behind, all alone,all alone— and she could only seem to stare back at him, while something cold and sick surged in her belly. Trampling over the guilt and regret, and hurling out raw, staggeringfearin its stead.
He would… leave her behind? Withnothing? If she didn’t stay meek, and quiet, andobey?
Her throat swallowed hard, her suddenly sweaty hands clutching tightly to her satchel. Because yes, yes, he could still leave. He could run off into the forest again, and abandon her here, just like that. With no coin, no clothes, and no help. And what then? What would be left?
Desperation. Destitution. Destruction.
And for a dark, dizzying instant, it was as though she was back in the city again, the day after her parents’ funeral. Standing alone in the street, weeping into her hands, and realizing, for the very first time, that she was utterly, entirely alone. No one else would care. No one else would come.
No. Gods, no. Never again. She needed this. She needed the next step. Needed the gold. She needed…him.
So she made herself nod, rapid and fervent, her eyes dropped to Rathgarr’s feet. One month, and then the sea.
“Then please, sir, I beg your forgiveness,” she whispered. “I’m so very sorry. I’ll obey.”
11
The rest of the day passed with awful, agonizing slowness. With Geva and Rathgarr walking in stiff, stilted silence, and attempting to ignore the incessant onslaught of whispers, glances, and alarm from the ongoing parade of passersby.
At one point, Rathgarr curtly held out his elbow toward her, in a silent but very clear command, and Geva nodded, and obediently clasped her hand to his arm. But she couldn’t muster the will to make light of it, like she had the day before, or even to meet the other travellers’ eyes.
She was alone. A hireling. One month, and then the sea.
