Killik curtly nodded at that, angling toward the door — but when Ulfarr showed no sign of following, Killik rolled his eyes, grasped at his belt, and yanked him out after him. A development that seemed to reduce the room’s growing tension by a significant degree, and Geva bit back her sigh of relief in favour of smiling again at Sune, and waving him after her toward Timo and Trygve. Who were still looking distinctly uneasy, but after Geva’s overly enthusiastic introduction — including the crucial bit about the sign language — Timo gave Sune a tentative smile, followed by a few careful movements of his slim hand.
“Oh, you know sign language too!” Geva exclaimed, with genuine pleasure. “Perhaps you could help teach us, Timo?”
It had perhaps been the wrong thing to say, based on the frantic shake of Timo’s head, and the deepening flush in his cheeks. “Only a little,” he said. “Baldr has been showing me some, as he and his mates oft speak thus, also.”
Well, that was still very helpful, and Geva firmly told Timo so, while silently resolving to enlist Baldr for a few teaching sessions. And once she returned her attention to the rest of the room, it was to the realization that everyone had somehow been settled at the tables. Even the three young Grisk, though they were all clinging tightly to their new swords, and Rathgarr was now sharing their table. His body almost comically large in contrast to theirs, his brows lifting as he held Geva’s gaze.
Show your Ash-Kai how good you are,he’d said.Impress me.
And perhaps Geva had even nodded at him, her own mouth drawing up, her eyes sweeping over the room’s assembled, bright-eyed students. Fourteen of them in total, including Tengil and Rakfi, even more than they’d hoped for. One step at a time. A new way.
And again, it felt almost easy, natural, to step to the front of the room, her head high, her shoulders back. “Hi, and welcome to Orc Mountain’s first school!” she told the class, with a genuine grin. “We’re going to have so much fun learning and playing together, right?”
Her words were met by a round of enthusiastic shouts and stomps, Rathgarr very prominent among them, and Geva’s smile toward him might have been almost weepy this time. But again, it made it easy to finish introducing herself, and then to go around and introduce everyone at the tables, as well. And then to talk through their plans and schedule, including how they would spend some time reading and writing each day, followed by a rotation of special guests from across the five clans.
“And on your clan’s day, we’ll be especially happy to have your help,” Geva told them. “To start, today we’re going to focus on the Grisk. And our special guest Varinn will teach us about scenting, right, Varinn?”
Varinn had already come over to stand beside her, smiling easily at their watching audience of orclings, some of them already squirming in their seats. “Ach, thank you, sister,” he replied. “For this first lesson, we shall try tracking each other’s scents. But… amidst some hindrances. Alma?”
He’d glanced expectantly toward the door, where a smiling Alma was indeed striding in, holding a large platter before her. A platter that was piled high with an abundance of fresh-looking tarts and cakes, and even Geva could smell their sweet, mouthwatering scents wafting through the room.
The orclings all instantly snapped to attention, their faces turned toward the treats, and one of the smaller Ka-esh had even slipped out of his chair toward them — until Varinn laughed, and put up his hand. “Not yet,” he said. “We shall all get a treat, but first, we must earn it. Now, who should like to go first?”
Multiple orclings shouted and waved their hands at once, and Varinn called up one of the Bautul brothers, Hauk. And then he tied a thick strip of cloth over Hauk’s eyes, before waving over the three small Ka-esh, and placing a cake into each of their outstretched little hands.
“Now, no eating yet,” he said firmly. “And I need one more orc for Hauk to find, one whose scent he does not well know. Bjorn, mayhap?”
Bjorn willingly sidled forward, though his eyes were very wary on Varinn, and then on the cakes. But Varinn returned this with another encouraging smile, and knelt down to Bjorn’s level. “Now, I need you to be a good Skai,” he said, “and sneak quietly about this roomwithouta cake, whilst Hauk stays here, and seeks to follow your scent. And whilst” — he grinned at the three waiting Ka-esh — “our three hindrances also run about with their cakes, and seek to draw him from finding you.”
The three small Ka-esh excitedly murmured at this, and soon the entire room was gasping and shouting and laughing, fully invested in the game. In the three little Ka-esh gleefully running about while Hauk stood there blindfolded, inhaling deeply as he pointed around the room, attempting — but not always succeeding — to follow a very quiet, watchful Bjorn, who was slowly sneaking about the tables.
“Good, brother!” Varinn said, once Hauk could consistently follow Bjorn’s scent. “Now, you take a cake, and become a hindrance for us, whilst one of our Ka-esh takes your place. But first, he can eat his cake, ach?”
He winked down toward little Isak, who was excitedly bobbing in front of him, his cake already half-eaten in his tiny claws. And then they did it all again, and again, and again, and between each round Varinn loudly explained how to sharpen one’s focus on the most important scent at hand, and how distracting other scents could be, especially when they were something the orc found very appealing.
“My kin-brother Nattfarr has a very good nose,” he told them, with a teasing glance toward where Ella was smiling from a table, while Rakfi crawled in circles around her chair. “But when Nattfarr first…metour sister Ella, he was nearly killed by men, so caught he was in the thrall of her scent. We donotwish to be Nattfarr, ach?”
Geva laughed along with the rest, from where she’d been sitting at the Grisk table with Rathgarr — though it occurred to her that he was very intently not meeting her eyes. As if this scent-distraction was something he’d also experienced before, and would rather not admit — and suddenly her thoughts were swirling with the memory of the first day they’d met. With the wardrobe. With how he hadn’t smelled the men approaching, despite claiming he could easily do so.
It was one more thing to add to the rest, maybe even one more step. And truly, so was the fact that Rathgarr was even still here, still staying with her, helping her, supporting her. And even, a little while later, nudging her, squeezing meaningfully at her knee, when Kesst and Grimarr appeared at the door.
Grimarr was standing very still, blinking toward the mass of shrieking, running, cake-strewn orclings, while Kesst’s mouth was already twitching into a grin, his eyes sparkling with delighted amusement. And after a companionable bump at Grimarr’s shoulder, Kesst strode over toward Geva and Rathgarr, and dropped down into Bram’s recently vacated chair.
“Well, this has become a terrifying hellscape,” he said, with another amused glance toward the surrounding chaos. “You two still surviving in here?”
Rathgarr’s body had inevitably jerked to that familiar stiffness, his hand now clutching almost painfully at Geva’s knee, but she easily touched at it, caressing him, as she grinned back toward Kesst. “What, you’re not looking forward to your turn?” she said lightly, pointing toward the schedule they’d affixed to the wall. “You’re coming up soon, you know.”
Kesst rolled his eyes, though his smile toward the nearest screeching Ka-esh looked genuinely fond. “Oh, I’m planning to tell them a highly involved tale about falling asleep,” he said, a little offhandedly. “Rath used to love that one, didn’t you, Rath?”
Rathgarr’s hand spasmed against Geva’s knee, but she kept stroking, perhaps squeezing a little too hard, and she could see him drawing in air, letting it out. “Ach, that was a good one,” he finally replied, his throat bobbing. “I have missed it, little brother. As I have — missed you. Do you ken” — he glanced briefly at Geva, and then back again — “might you have time to spare for a meal with me today? Or mayhap a shopping trip?”
Kesst shot Geva a wry, knowing look, but then sighed, and shrugged. “Fine, why not,” he said dismissively. “Now?”
Rathgarr’s glance toward Geva was hesitant this time, but she was already smiling back at him, and firmly patting his hand. “You should definitely go, and enjoy yourself,” she told him. “You’ve been such a help, love, truly. Thank you.”
His smile back was warm, and a little apologetic, and once he’d stood to follow Kesst, he even bent to press his mouth to her head. “Later, then, poppet,” he murmured, soft. “Be ready for my tongue, ach?”
Oh, gods, it was just what she’d needed — and perhaps hadn’t needed — to hear, but it seemed to provide another much-needed burst of energy to push through the rest of the day. To help wrap up Varinn’s game, fervently thanking him and Alma for making it so much fun, and then helping Timo and Trygve — and a silent but observant Sune — guide the still-frantic orclings through their own game, which involved even more screeching and racing about the room. And by the time the adults began returning, most of the orclings seemed genuinely worn out, and little Isak instantly fell asleep on his bemused-looking father’s shoulder.
