But beside Geva, Rathgarr’s body had gone even stiffer, his eyes darting around the room. Catching on Grimarr, and then on Drafli, and on Simon, and on Killik and Ulfarr. On… the captain, and his Skai. Hisattack dogs, Rathgarr had called them, who had threatened tokillKesst if Rathgarr returned, or even spoke hisname.
“Before we begin,” Geva heard herself cut in, her voice too loud in the silence, “we would appreciate some reassurance that there will be no consequences or retaliation for Rathgarr speaking truthfully today. No threats, and no harm done. Either toward him, or — anyone else he cares about.”
She didn’t miss the murmurs and glances around the room, clearly following the implications behind such a request — but then, thank the gods, Grimarr rose to his feet, and put his fist to his chest. “No harm shall befall you, or any of yours, for speaking your truth to us, Rathgarr,” he said. “This I vow to you.”
None of the room’s other occupants seemed surprised by this — most of all Kesst, who just raised an impatient brow toward Rathgarr, and irritably waved for him to continue. While Rathgarr himself was looking stunned again, his throat bobbing, something not unlike panic flaring in his eyes.
But Geva kept rubbing at his back, letting her fingernails dig in — and even, in a moment of daring, letting her hand slide down to his rounded arse, giving it a blatant squeeze. And it was enough to angle his eyes toward her, toward where she was giving him a firm little nod, and a small, encouraging smile. Saying,I’m with you. Helpmates.
And in return, Rathgarr gave a little nod too, his shoulders rising, and falling. “Ach,” he said, his voice hoarse, his eyes angling back toward Kesst again. “Ach, little brother. The truth.”
Geva kept rubbing at Rathgarr’s back —I’m with you, helpmates— and he angled another glance toward her, hauled in a breath, met Kesst’s eyes again. “When I left here,” he began, “leftyou, sixteen summers past… this was not my choice.”
Kesst didn’t reply, just kept watching with that brow raised, and Rathgarr drew in more breath, heaved it out. “You were yet — young,” Rathgarr continued thickly. “Mayhap fifteen summers, ach? And you ken how our father, long before this, was not — himself. Not — there, in his mind.”
That was news to Geva, and she felt her head tilting, her fingers stroking a little harder. While before them, Kesst jerked a stiff nod, his brow still arched, his arms folding over his bare chest.
“It was never — easy, here,” Rathgarr said, his voice cracking. “But with our father lost thus, leaving us without his help or guarding, it was no longer — safe. Not beneath the former captain’s rule.”
As he spoke, his eyes glanced sharply toward Grimarr, as if expecting him to argue this. But Grimarr only kept looking back, his mouth tight and grim. While Tengil — who was still propped on Geva’s other hip — was blinking between Rathgarr and his father, and then he squirmed to climb down, toddling over toward Grimarr’s waiting arms.
“I feared most of all for you, little brother,” Rathgarr continued, his shoulders again rising and falling, his gaze back on Kesst’s face. “I knew you would never be a fighter, and you bore great gifts, which brought you great risk. Thus, I wished to take you and our mother, and run from the mountain. But” — his mouth thinned — “she would not hear of this. No matter how I fought or pleaded.”
Something shifted in Kesst’s eyes at that, suggesting that perhaps he hadn’t previously known this — but he still didn’t speak, and Rathgarr drew in another deep breath. “She thought it too great a risk,” he continued, “to take you out into the realm, whilst we were yet at war with the humans. She said that if I dared to run away with you, she should claim I had stolen you, and send the Skai after us, to drag us back. She said you were her son, and not mine, and that she had plans of her own. That she had bought you safety in — other ways.”
Kesst’s face had gone a little paler, his body again leaning close into Efterar’s, but he still didn’t interject, and Rathgarr kept speaking, now without any inflection in his voice. “So I kept our mother’s wishes. I did not go. I sought to care for you and guard you however I could. But I yet made my own plans in secret, in hopes that she would relent. In hopes that we could some day… vanish.”
There was still no answer from Kesst, only his pale face and staring eyes, and Rathgarr barked a blank, brittle laugh. “And then she died of fever,” he said. “And this next night, after you had wept yourself to sleep, the band of armed Skai came to our room. Ofnir, Skaap, Balgarr, Alfver, and Falgr. And they said” — Rathgarr’s jaw flexed, his mouth twisting — “either I would vanish that very night, or I would watch you die.”
Kesst’s body startled against Efterar’s, his lips parted, his eyes gone blank. But he still wasn’t speaking, no one was speaking, and Geva’s uneasy glance around the room found a mixture of shock, and sympathy, and — on Grimarr’s face, and several of the other orcs’, too — a grim, unsurprised resignation.
“There were terms,” Rathgarr continued now, his voice still wooden and empty. “I could not speak aloud my name, or yours. I could not come within scenting distance of the mountain’s furthest tunnels. I could not seek to send word or letters to you. I was to forever vanish, alone. And as long as I kept to this, they vowed not to harm you, and to keep you safe. So” — he brought his hand to his eyes, rubbing hard — “I obeyed. I took these plans I had made for us, and I left. Alone.”
The room had gone utterly still and silent, as if blanketed with a sickening, suffocating chill — until it was abruptly broken by the sound of a scoff. ByKesst, his head whipping back and forth, his mouth contorted into something like a laugh.
“A solid attempt, Rath,” he hissed. “But you’vealwaysbeen rubbish at telling tales, you know, andnoneof this makes any sense.Everyonehere admired and respected you, you were strong in battle, you were anassetto our clan and this mountain — so why would they even care about getting rid of you? And honestly, even if theydidwant to get rid of you” — his eyes flashed, and he lurched away from Efterar, came a step closer — “why wouldn’t they have justkilledyou, and been done with it!”
There were a few audible hisses from around the room, and beneath Geva’s still-stroking hand, Rathgarr’s body had gone fully rigid again, his face drained of all colour, his eyes locked to Kesst’s. Looking like Kesst had just slapped him, and oh, he was even swaying on his feet, as if it might truly reel him back, fell him where he stood —
“Leave him be, Kesst,” cut in a low voice, and when Geva glanced toward it, it was Grimarr. And suddenly he just looked tired, his gaze angling briefly down toward Tengil, who was now tucked close into his arm, his big eyes now intent on his father’s face.
“I ken your brother is not speaking false,” Grimarr continued, with a sigh, and a grimace toward Kesst. “And you ken, just as well as I do, that Rathgarrwasa threat to some orcs here. Most of all, mayhap, to my own father. To what my father saw as my own rightful place as captain, after him.”
Kesst shot Grimarr a sharp, betrayed look, but Grimarr frowned back, and gave a slight shake of his head. “Before his infirmity, your father was a wealthy, powerful orc, from a long line of esteemed, gifted Ash-Kai. And his eldest son” — Grimarr sighed, gave a vague, irritable-looking wave toward Rathgarr — “was well set to surpass him. As you have said, Rathgarr was a strong fighter, who was admired and favoured amongst our kin. He well knew how to speak and dress and carry himself, and he made friends and wooed women with ease. He had much to credit him that I did not.”
He gestured downwards at his own simple ensemble, which admittedly was far less polished-looking than Rathgarr’s, and then at his scarred, heavily marked face, which also stood in stark contrast to Rathgarr’s even, handsome features. And Geva could see Kesst looking between them too, his brow furrowed, his mouth gone very thin.
“So if Rath reallywassuch good competition for you, Grim,” Kesst said coldly, “then why not just kill him?”
Rathgarr flinched again, his face so vividly pained that Geva actually slid her arm around his waist this time, squeezing him close. While Grimarr gave Kesst another disapproving frown, and then a slow, resigned sigh.
“Because of your father’s gold, mayhap,” he said heavily. “If Rathgarr had died without a son, this would have fully been yours, Kesst, after your father’s passing. But since Rathgarr ran, and thus spurned and disavowed his clan — and abandoned you to the clan’s care — my father could then reclaim the wealth as that of the clan’s, and make it his own.”
Oh. Oh, howvile. So not only had Grimarr’s awful father apparently gotten Rathgarr out of the way for good, but in the process, he’d also found a way to steal his family’s wealth, too. To steal it from… Kesst. Kesst, who was now looking markedly paler than before, his eyes blank hollows in his suddenly stark-looking face.
But he’d gone silent again, and so had Grimarr, and Rathgarr was still slightly swaying against Geva’s body, against her arm still tightly around him. But there were still so many questions, damn it, and Geva drew in a breath, and found herself glaring down at Grimarr’s face.
“So how much didyouknow about all this, then?” she demanded at him. “How involved were you in this horrible plan of your father’s? And did you spend all of their inheritance, too?!”
