Geva couldn’t hide her wince, and felt her hands twisting together in front of her. “Rathgarr thinks you don’t want to speak with him,” she said. “He wants to respect you, and your wishes.”
Kesst barked a harsh laugh, not a laugh at all. “Does he, now,” he drawled. “So considerate, my deadbeat brother is. Sorespectful. Well, sweetheart” — he jabbed a clawed finger toward her — “you can tell him that he hasonemore chance to speak to me. Tomorrow morning, in the Ash-Kai common-room, where all our entire damnedclancan hear. And he can either choose to tell us everything —everything— orelse.”
Gods damn it,damnit, and Geva’s hands were wringing tighter together, her unease surging, shuddering into something not unlike fear. Kesst expected Rathgarr to tell himeverything? In front of his entireclan?!
“Or — or else?” she heard herself stammer, too high-pitched. “How — how so?”
But Kesst’s face was grim, flinty, far too vicious. “Or else Efterar will make Rath suffer, until he does tell it,” he said coolly. “Won’t you, Eft? If I ask you?”
Oh. Oh, hell. And Geva’s pleading eyes had gone to this Efterar — thismagician, curse it, who could alter things inside you without even a touch — and found him grimacing, his eyes squeezing shut, his arm drawing Kesst closer into his side.
“Yes,” he said, quiet. “Yes, I suppose I will.”
26
By the time Geva stepped back into the room she shared with Rathgarr, she felt stiff, clammy, and utterly drained.
Gods, what a day. What an endless, exhausting day. But she’d done it, she’d been the best helpmate she possibly could, she’d held it together while meeting dozens of unfamiliar orcs, and taking a full tour of Orc Mountain, and visiting apleasure-den. And even if the tour had ended with that highly alarming threat, Rathgarrhadwanted to speak with Kesst, hadn’t he? Wanted to tell him the truth? And Geva would tell him now, and perhaps they would work out a plan, and —
And then she stopped short, blinking around the dark bedroom — because Rathgarr wasn’t here. The room was silent. Untouched. Empty.
“Rathgarr?” she tentatively called, as she lit the lamp, and then made her way toward the back room — but it, too, was empty. Even though it seemed to have been significantly tidied in her absence, all the jewels and plunder now organized and carefully displayed on the room’s many shelves. And among them were a few books, including — Geva peered closer — her own book of tales, set in a place of obvious honour atop one of the shelves.
Something twisted in her belly as she looked at it, but she swallowed hard, spun around, and went back into the bedroom. And then just stood there, gazing helplessly around at it, until her eyes caught on the crack in the ceiling, and the pitch-black darkness beyond it. So it really was evening, and should she try to sleep, or perhaps seek out a much-needed bath, or…
When without warning, the curtain at the door swept aside, and Rathgarr strode in. The sight of his big cloaked body suddenly so blessedly, beautifully familiar that Geva almost felt faint, and she had to fight back the urge to rush over toward him, and fling her arms around his waist.
“Where have you been?” she made herself say instead, her voice cracking. “I thought you were going to meet me later?”
She couldn’t quite read the expression on Rathgarr’s face, the shifting in his eyes. “Ach, I did,” he said, as he shot a sharp, meaningful glance toward the curtain behind him. “And thus, here I am.”
Geva’s stomach twisted again, and she shook her head, crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “It was all day, Rathgarr,” she managed, as quietly as she could. “You left me alone and unprotected in Orc Mountainall day!”
Rathgarr’s eyes were still shifting, his lips thinning. “I knew where you were, ach?” he said coolly. “And you did not seem in much need of me.”
The disbelief swarmed through Geva’s chest — he’d known where she was all day, and he hadn’t even said hello? — but before she could speak, Rathgarr came a swift step closer, his cloak flaring out behind him.
“All day long I heard tales of you,” he continued, his low voice even colder. “Dancing in the halls. Playing in the garden. Peeping in the Ka-esh dungeon. Visiting mybrother. All of this with the mate of my swornenemy!”
What?! Geva’s disbelief was clashing against a sudden surge of fury, and she clamped her hands to fists, and shook her head. “Butyouleft me with them, andwantedme to do all that!” she hissed at him. “I was trying to learn and make friends, and do my best to represent you! To be a good — a good helpmate!”
There was an instant’s dangling silence, and then Rathgarr huffed a hard, bitter laugh, the sound clutching deep in Geva’s churning stomach. “A goodhelpmate,” he shot back, “would not cozy up to a woman like Grimarr’s! A woman who surely seeks to use you to gain my weakness, and my defeat! She was once the wife of Lord Norr, who was the cruelest lord in the realm, you ken?”
Shewhat? Jule had been married to alord? And suddenly more of the distant tales about orcs were shifting, snapping into place, because therehadbeen rumours of orcs seducing lords’ wives, hadn’t there? And Lord Norr had met his untimely demise under highly mysterious circumstances, and…
“Then why didn’t you tell me that, damn it?” Geva demanded, her voice rising. “If I’d known, I’d have been far more on my guard! But even so” — she dragged in a shaky breath — “IlikedJule, Rathgarr. She was lovely to me, and very hospitable. And she barely said a single word about you all day!”
Rathgarr curled his lip and scoffed, harsh and mocking — like he didn’t believe her? — and in response, Geva barked a short, strangled-sounding laugh, her hands clamping even tighter at her sides.
“She didn’t, Rathgarr,” she hissed. “If anything, she was far more interested in my teaching experience. She even offered me a positionworkinghere, if I wanted it!”
The thought of it was suddenly a strange, bizarre comfort, or even something to cling to. Jule had recognized her training and experience, and offered her a job. An important job, doing important things, that would make a real difference.
But before her, Rathgarr was blinking, a fleeting flash of something likefearin his eyes. Or perhaps astonishment, or incredulity, or… rage.
“What?!” he thundered, his voice vibrating in Geva’s chest. “Grimarr’s mate seeks to pay youcointo work for her?!You?!”
A bitter, brittle rebellion surged in Geva’s throat, and she jerked a curt little nod. And in return, Rathgarr’s rage only seemed to flash higher, his teeth bared, a low growl rippling from his throat.
