It was… another challenge. Another game. And Geva was nodding and smiling again, but it felt genuine this time, her body leaning into his touch. “I’ll try,” she murmured. “I’ll do my best.”
“Good,” he replied, with a satisfied gleam in his eyes. “Now, get to work, poppet. Impress me.”
35
Even despite Rathgarr’s challenge, Geva fully expected him to turn around, and disappear for the rest of the schoolday. At least, until they stepped into the schoolroom, and found Jule, Tengil, Rosa, and Tristan already all there, and all eyeing them with eager anticipation.
“Oh, Rathgarr’s come to help, too!” Rosa exclaimed, her hands clasped to her heart. “And howconvenient, because I’ve brought along new drafts of the pamphlets, with all the edits we discussed! I’m sure you won’t mind reviewing them for a moment?”
Rathgarr angled Geva a wry, meaningful look, but then he sighed, and gave Rosa a surprisingly tolerant smile. “Ach, I should be glad to help,” he said. “What have you altered, then?”
Soon he was embroiled in what appeared to be an involved discussion with an excitedly chattering Rosa, the expression on his face very similar to the one he wore around Abjorn. While Geva smiled to herself, and turned her focus to putting the finishing touches on the room, and readying it for the morning’s first arrivals.
Her goal for the day was really just to meet all their new students, make them feel comfortable, and offer them a fun taste of what was to come — so together with Jule and Tristan, she set out a variety of possible activities, including paper and charcoal, some dice-games she’d found in the Ash-Kai storage-room, and a variety of toys and carvings, including a perfectly carved set of building-blocks from the Skai storage-room. She’d also kept the wall opposite the fire clear, and after drawing a few mosquitoes, spiders, and butterflies on the wall with chalk, she set the basket of chalk nearby, hopefully to tempt some orclings who might like to draw, too.
Her heartbeat had begun rising again as she’d worked, her palms clammy and hot, and she couldn’t help whirling around, and perhaps even slightly staggering, at the sight of someone walking through the door. It was Varinn, who was first on the guest teaching schedule, and he was blinking around at the room with unmistakable awe in his eyes — and then grinning down toward Timo, who was hovering close behind him, together with a similar-aged orc Geva didn’t recognize.
For an instant, Geva stood there frozen, her breaths locked in her chest — when suddenly, a warm, familiar body eased up beside her, a hand slipping around to her back. Rathgarr, giving her a rueful little smile as he nudged her forward, toward the door.
And again, it helped. Enough that Geva could smile and step forward, welcoming Timo and Varinn, and then introducing herself to the new orc, a light-eyed, grey-skinned Grisk named Trygve. Who, Timo proudly informed her, was a brilliant fighter, and likely to become an excellent Grisk nose, as well.
Geva warmly congratulated Trygve on his impressive-sounding skill, and invited the two of them to choose a table, and perhaps to think of a scenting game they could play with the younger ones, after Varinn had led the day’s lesson. A suggestion that was thankfully well-received, and soon Timo and Trygve were chattering together at a table, and sketching out complicated-looking plans with the paper and charcoal.
They were soon followed by a smiling Ella, with a squirming Rakfi perched on her hip, and three more young Grisk orcs hovering shyly around her. All of them were perhaps between six and eight years old, and once Geva had knelt to greet them, they introduced themselves as Bram, Njal, and Tyr. They were all cousins, it turned out, and their fathers had recently moved to the mountain together, now that — according to a very solemn Bram — they weren’t likely to be sent off to war by the heartless, horrible Ash-Kai.
Geva’s smile felt a little fixed at that, her eyes angling uneasily toward Rathgarr, who had still been hovering close nearby. And to her genuine astonishment, he came over to kneel beside her, and produced what appeared to be three small, slim wooden swords, with thick strands of softening cloth wrapped around them.
“Ach, we Ash-Kai now ken this was a great wrong,” Rathgarr said, his voice just as solemn as Bram’s had been. “So now, we only seek to spar for fun amongst ourselves. Should you like to play with these, and try this?”
The three small orcs eyed Rathgarr with wary, wide-eyed suspicion, but then Tyr snatched one of the swords from his hand, swiftly followed by Bram and Njal. And soon the three of them were racing around the room, chasing one another between the tables and laughing with shrill, delighted glee.
“Rathgarr!” Geva hissed at him, once she’d found her voice again. “You can’t just give weapons to children in the schoolroom! And most of all as anapologyfor the Ash-Kai sending them towar?!”
But Rathgarr appeared entirely unconcerned, his eyes watching the racing orclings with surprising fondness. “You shall be thanking me once they are tired enough to sit and listen for a spell,” he said, with a shrug. “And better to give them safer swords now, rather than waiting for them to bring their own. One time, I near killed Sigarr with a sharp table-leg I had found, ach?”
Geva shot a helpless look toward Ella and Varinn, both of whom were still standing nearby. Ella with similar-looking commiseration on her face, watching Rakfi frantically crawl around the room, while Varinn was following the shouting orclings with distinctly fond eyes, too. “Ach, orclings are sturdy, and they know enough not to harm one another,” Varinn told Geva, with a good-natured shrug. “But if you are truly vexed over this, mayhap we can keep them penned in over there?”
He’d nodded toward one of the adjoining rooms, which were both still currently empty, so Geva finally threw up her hands, and agreed. Which was just as well, because there were already more orclings arriving, spilling with their caretakers into the room. First were three small, adorable Ka-esh named Isak, Ulfrik, and Erik, followed by two preteen Bautul blood-brothers named Hagen and Hauk, both wearing matching pendants with teeth around their necks. And then, a smiling Maria brought in Bjorn, followed by Killik and —
“Ulfarr?” Geva gasped with genuine dismay, glancing toward where Rathgarr had been setting up the three small Ka-esh at the table with the building-blocks. And yes, Rathgarr was visibly stiffening too, his eyes cold and narrow on Ulfarr, who was frowning back toward him with equal hostility. At least… until Ulfarr’s gaze dropped back down toward where a slim figure was stepping out from behind him, his pointy chin uplifted, his black claws gripping deep into Ulfarr’s meaty arm.
It was — another orcling. Or rather, another half-grown orc, perhaps around the same age as Timo and Trygve. And Geva belatedly pasted on a smile, and lurched over to welcome him and introduce herself. But the new Skai didn’t speak back, only regarding her with a wary, uncertain gaze, until Killik stepped up beside him, clasping his hand to the young orc’s slim shoulder.
“This is Sune, of Clan Skai,” Killik said smoothly. “He is staying with us as our ward, for a spell.”
Their ward. Wait,Killik and Ulfarr’sward? But based on the vicious glower from Ulfarr’s eyes, and the heavy clap of his big hand on Sune’s opposite shoulder, this indeed seemed to be the case. And suddenly, blinking at this young orc’s uneasy face, Geva was painfully, powerfully reminded of Cecily, lost and lonely and parted from everything she’d known.
“Welcome to our schoolroom, Sune,” Geva said, pressing her fist to her heart in the now-familiar greeting the orcs seemed to prefer. “We’re so glad to have you with us.”
This Sune orc blinked at her, but then he also put his fist to his heart, and gave a slight bow of his head. Prompting Killik to give his shoulder a companionable little shake, his eyes flicking toward Geva with something that might have been approval.
“Sune favours speaking with his hands, ach?” Killik said coolly. “It is oft how Skai speak, and we should not ask him otherwise, should he not wish.”
“Of course,” Geva said, her voice firm, her fist again pressing to her heart. “Though I’m afraid to say I’m not currently familiar with Skai sign language, but I’ll certainly do my best to learn.”
This earned her another brief, approving nod from Killik, and a skeptical-sounding grunt from Ulfarr. Who, much to Geva’s alarm, was again glowering toward Rathgarr at the Ka-esh table — and unsurprisingly, Rathgarr was glowering straight back, his body taut and rigid all over.
“So Sune, have you met Timo and Trygve?” Geva hurriedly asked, gesturing toward where they were both watching with wary eyes from their own table. “If not, perhaps I can introduce you? And” — she glanced back toward Killik, and then Ulfarr, too — “you two are welcome to stay, but we’ll likely finish around noon, if you’d rather come back then?”
