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Rathgarr’s inheritance was here.
And as Geva stepped inside, blinking stunned and shaky toward it, she realized just how naive she’d been. How foolish. Because this wasn’t anything like Rathgarr’s little trove-room, with its display of assorted treasures. This was… a hoard. A blatant, shocking display of wealth like Geva had never seen, had never once thought to imagine in her life.
There were coins. Gems. Jewels. Sculptures, statues, suits of armour, weapons. Furniture. Mirrors. Wardrobes. Trunks with clothing and furs. And even just huge stacked chunks of rough-cut stone, with glittering seams of colour inside them.
And they say Ash-Kai are greedy,whispered a voice, Rathgarr’s voice, into Geva’s stunned, shaking thoughts.Those Grisk have gathered a hoard even greater than my father’s.
But Rathgarr wasn’t here… or was he? And Geva’s eyes were desperately scanning the glittering room in the dim lamplight, catching on the mass of furniture — and then she flinched all over, because no, yes, that was Rathgarr’s voice speaking, hard and loud and close.
“Youknewthis was here,” it growled. “You Skai plotted with my mother against me, to steal my birthright, anddestroyme!”
Geva flinched again, hard enough that her feet staggered, sliding on a loose gold coin. And suddenly she was sprinting forward, further into the room, toward the pile of furniture, and around behind it —
And there. Here. Was Rathgarr. With his huge sword drawn, his body big and rigid and so stunningly, blazingly familiar that the room spun. He was here, he was safe, alive — and even as the relief crashed through Geva, there was also fear, surging and screeching, even higher than before.
Because… Ulfarr was here, too. Huge, bare-chested, terrifying, with a curved, shining scimitar held in his huge clawed hand. And his eyes were fixed on Rathgarr, flashing with pure, contemptuous rage.
“The Skai soughtnaughtagainst you, Rathgarr,” Ulfarr was growling back. “If you wish to cast blame, you ought to cast it upon your own clan. Your own kin!”
With that, his eyes darted furiously sideways, toward — Kesst. Toward where Kesst was here too, standing half-hidden in the shadows, his arms tightly crossed over his chest. And surely Rathgarr had already known he was there, casting a sharp glance toward him, his body easing a little closer in front of him, as if to block him from Ulfarr’s view.
“I shall not blame Kesst for my mother’s sins,” Rathgarr snarled back, his voice even harder than before. “It was the Skai who carried out her foul wishes. It wasyou. I knew you were part of this, Ulfarr. Iknewyou were yet my enemy, no matter how you and the Skai play-acted that you were not!”
Ulfarr barked a rough, loud laugh, and shook his head. “And what do you ken we gained from this?” he demanded. “For these past sixteen summers, I was doomed to guardyourblood-brother! A sly, surly, sneaking Ash-Kai, who ran wild wherever he wished, spoke false with every breath from his mouth, and didnaughtthat he was told! Do you ken it was easy, tending to him all this time?”
He’d shot an angry glare toward Kesst, who was glowering back just as viciously, his arms clamping tighter against his chest. “You know, I told Rath not to take vengeance on you,” he said, his voice very silky, “but maybe it’s high time I changed my mind, hmmm?”
The look in Rathgarr’s eyes was almost feral, suddenly, and he moved a swift, smooth step closer toward Ulfarr, his sword lifting. “And howdareyou claim you guarded my brother, Ulfarr,” he growled, “when you so deeplyfailedat this. When you allowed Kesst to be harmed, and taken against his wishes!”
But Ulfarr loudly scoffed, his own sword rising, his huge body shifting into a deep, settled stance. “We only vowed to keep your brother close, and alive,” he hissed. “Naught more. I ken your sulking, scheming motherwishedhim to use his pretty form and silver tongue to gain power and gold, just asshedid!”
He’d given a sharp, furious sweep of his scimitar at the room — at all the obscene, glittering wealth — and behind Rathgarr, Kesst visibly flinched, his hand clamping over his mouth. While Rathgarr roared with fury, his huge body leaping into motion, lunging straight toward Ulfarr’s crouching, waiting bulk —
When suddenly, from behind Geva, there was a strangled little yelp — and even as she clutched toward it, no, no, too late, too late, a slim, dark-haired figure was sprinting forward. Rushing straight out in front of Rathgarr’s upraised sword, and hurling his arms around Ulfarr’s waist.
It was — Sune.
“No,” he choked, the first words Geva had ever heard him speak. “No.Papa.”
43
Papa.
Rathgarr reeled up just in time, his sword swinging high toward the ceiling in a sharp, deadly arc. His eyes frozen on Sune, his face suddenly pale, his breath dragging in deep —
And then he spun toward Geva. Toward where she was still standing stock-still in the shadows, her eyes shocked wide, her heart wildly pounding in her chest.
“Poppet?” he said, his voice wondering, strange — and then he whipped around further, blinking back behind her. Back toward where a fearful-looking Timo and Trygve were hovering too, with Thrain and John both frowning behind them. And — Geva startled — Killik?!
But yes, that was indeed Killik, casually sauntering forward through them all, his own scimitar held loose in his clawed hand. “Ach, I have been missing all the fun,” he said lightly, as he strode over toward where Sune was still clinging to Ulfarr. And once Killik had firmly clamped his hand to Sune’s shoulder, he eased close in front of him, just the way Rathgarr was again doing with Kesst. “Now, was there more, mayhap?”
Another low growl hissed from Rathgarr’s throat, but he didn’t move, his eyes narrow and flinty on Killik’s face. “Ach, mayhap,” he said coldly. “If your clanmate shall keep speaking such vile falsehoods of my brother!”
But Killik just kept looking blandly back toward Rathgarr, his brows upraised. “Which part is the falsehood?” he asked coolly. “The part where Ulfarr was pushed into a secret vow he did not wish to make? The vow he yet kept, even when all its other speakers were dead? The vow that bound him to guardyourbrother? Who, ach, was not an easy orc to care for, after he lost both his mother and the blood-brother he so worshipped?”
Rathgarr angled a brief, uncertain glance toward Kesst behind him, but Kesst was glaring at Killik, his arms still crossed tightly over his chest. “I never asked for the Skai’s guarding,” he spat. “I did not need their rubbishhelp. And if I’d known that was what was going on, I would have immediately refused, especially from the likes ofhim!”
