Raye grimaced, as a new unpleasant awareness prickled through her thoughts. Had all these orcs met Sybil, when she’d come to the mountain? Had Kalfr introduced her to them? Had they all seen Kalfr touching her, or taking her on the altar, or…
“But isn’t Sybil supposed to be linked to Lord Nash?” Raye demanded, over that alarming thought. “If nothing else, surely he wouldn’t want his collaborators — let alone his favoured mistress — sending an offer like this to an orc? Let alone — suggestive portraits, which might be seen by anyone?!”
She shot a rapid look toward the fire, toward where — thank the goddess — the portrait had already curled to ash in the crackling flames. Though Skirvir was still frowning petulantly toward it, while on Kalfr’s other side, Rurik shrugged, and made a noncommittal noise in his throat.
“I have had a few run-ins with Lord Nash, in the north,” he replied. “I should not be at all surprised if he goaded her to this, or thought it some uproarious jest. He sees orcs as less than animals, and by all accounts, he is not much kinder to his women, either.”
It all churned miserably in Raye’s gut — damn it, she did not want to feel sorry for this horrible Sybil. This enemy who had brought Kalfr such grief, and tried to murder him. And who was still trying to murder him, now with some extra taunting or humiliation attached.
“I’ve also dealt with Nash a fair bit, during my own time in the north,” Aulis added, “and that sounds about right to me, too. And even if Nash wasn’t already aware Sybil was doing this, she’s probably using his funds, and I know the clan has also sent him multiple requests and letters, without reply. It’s safe to say we can’t risk trusting either of them, yeah?”
He aimed that last part toward Kalfr, who was still gazing blankly out the window — but then Kalfr shook himself, and squared his shoulders. “Ach, no,” he replied, his voice curt. “This alters none of our goals. We must keep guarding and strengthening thisbyrgi, and readying ourselves to keep our band safe. And we must keep learning together, and upholding each other, also.”
Raye exhaled with relief, and nodded. But when she glanced toward Gaelfr, he still looked grim and furious, and his narrow eyes flicked toward the window, to where Kalfr had been looking. As if he might be questioning Kalfr’s resolve on this, too. As if he feared that Kalfr might still sacrifice himself for this, for Svein. Even if that meant walking straight toward his death, and toward…
The image of Sybil’s beautiful naked body burned behind Raye’s eyes again, and she gritted her teeth, dragged down a deep breath. Kalfr wouldn’t. Not after last night. Not after they’d come so far. Right?
“Now, let us enjoy the good breakfast Grum has made us, so we can begin our work for the day,” Kalfr said, his voice clipped. “And should you wish to stay, brothers” — he nodded toward Olarr and Aulis — “we should be most honoured to have youand your younglings amongst us, for as long as you please. We have also begun common-tongue reading lessons, and I am sure Julian shall not mind adding your younglings into these, ach, Julian?”
It was a deft series of redirections, and soon the room was full of chatter again, especially once they’d called the children back in, and settled down for breakfast together. Beside Raye, Kalfr was already discussing their latestbyrgiimprovement plans with Olarr and Aulis, and though Raye did her best to join in, she couldn’t help noticing that Kalfr’s jaw was still clenched tight, and his smiles didn’t reach his eyes. While on Raye’s other side, Gaelfr remained sullenly silent throughout the entire meal, and — for perhaps the first time since they’d met — he didn’t even urge Raye to have a second helping, either.
Once they finished eating, it turned out that Soren and William wanted as much help as possible with digging the new exit, since Fengr — who was apparently also adept at weather patterns — had predicted heavy rains for the following day. And when Kalfr shot a questioning glance at Raye, surely thinking of their morning survey, she pasted on a smile, and waved him toward where a quilt-clad Soren already was impatiently waiting by the door, glowering at them through the slits.
“I can handle the survey this morning, I’m sure,” she told Kalfr. “The safety preparations are the most important thing, aren’t they?”
Again, there was undeniable tension in Kalfr’s answering smile, but he thanked her before heading off with the other orcs — minus Gaelfr and Egil and Skirvir, who, at both Kalfr and Svein’s insistence, were still committed to finishing the morning’s reading lesson first.
So Raye headed out for the survey alone, checking thebyrgi’s status, monitoring for any changes overnight, following up on any priorities from the day before. And she again ended up atthe altar, which — she couldn’t help noticing — was now painted with more distinct streaks of white, covering more of the dark bloodstains beneath it.
The sight drew up visions of the night before, of Kalfr lit up and gasping in the moonlight, answering Raye’s call to grant them a son. And she clung to that image, that hope, as she climbed up to kneel on the altar, and begged for the goddess’ help, her safety. “Please, goddess,” she whispered, her hand over her heart. “Please guide us through this. Please keep Svein safe, and Kalfr and Gaelfr, too.Please.”
And despite everything, it helped. Enough to deepen Raye’s breaths, to slow her rapid heartbeat. They could still do this.
When she returned to thebyrgi, Julian was still teaching his lesson, so she headed past them up to the loft, and her weaving. And though Svein seemed engrossed in the lesson, Gaelfr’s look toward her was flat and sullen, and strangely assessing, too. And once the lesson was finished, and the children had raced back outside together, Raye wasn’t surprised to hear his heavy bootsteps thumping up the stairs toward her.
“How did your lesson go?” Raye asked, with an attempt at a smile, as Gaelfr heavily sank down onto her extra stool. “Is everything all right?”
Gaelfr didn’t immediately reply, his eyes blankly fixed on the slim, colourful strip of finished weaving now visible on Raye’s loom, so she kept on working, guiding her needle back and forth between the warp threads, casting the occasional cautious look toward him. Until he tightly folded his hands, leaned toward her, and drew in a deep breath.
“I do not like this,sæta,” he said, his voice low. “This new advance from this witch. Kalfr was not surprised by this, ach? And you ken how well he play-acts for his kin, forus, but” — Gaelfr exhaled, slow and shaky — “I know all his scents. I know his rage, and his dread, and hisdefeat.”
Rage. Dread. Defeat. A chill snaked up Raye’s back, and her hands stilled, her throat swallowing hard. “So you think he’s still… considering it, then?” she asked. “That he still feels obligated to — tosurrender?”
Gods, it was a terrible word, especially now that it had Sybil’s beautiful naked body stamped all over it, and Gaelfr grimaced down toward his folded hands. “How could Kalfr not be weighing this?” he countered, wooden. “He has always given all for his kin. And now that he has built this band and thisbyrgi, and brought us here — brought Svein here — mayhap granted us a newson…”
Raye’s stomach clenched, while Gaelfr’s mouth twisted, his hands spasming tighter together. “So we must keep helping him, and upholding him,” he said flatly. “We must bolster and honour him, and remind him of his strength. Of how much we have gained together. And how much we shall yet gain, if we keep standing united against this threat.”
Raye was already nodding — of course she was in full agreement, right? But Gaelfr’s grim expression didn’t change, even as he squared his shoulders, and met her eyes. “And you have seen,” he continued, “how strongly Kalfr responds to you, have you not? How wielding his power and pleasure over you has helped him, and granted him strength and peace. You saw this just last eve, upon the altar. Ach?”
Raye nodded again, wary now, and Gaelfr leaned closer on his stool, his elbows on his knees, his eyes glinting on hers. “Myástvinurloves this,” he added, deeper, “when you need him. When you beg for him, and obey him. When you offer yourself up to him, with all your hunger and truth. When you beg for the son you wish him to grant you.”
Raye’s cheeks heated, but she managed another nod, to which Gaelfr nodded too, quick and decisive. “Thus, we must continue this,” he said. “Youmust continue this, and keepseeking to bear his son. And if you will increase your efforts upon this, these next days…”
Raye stared at him, her heart distantly thudding, as Gaelfr’s eyes slid sideways, toward her loom. “If you do this,” he continued, “I will send back to your home, for your other weaving goods. For all that we left behind. Your yarn, and your spin-wheel, and mayhap even your large loom, if we can take this apart without —”
But a strangled sound escaped Raye’s throat, and she flailed her hands toward him, and shoved to her feet. And suddenly she couldn’t bear to look at him, to hear another word. Because was this what he’d been thinking about, all this morning? How he could best bribe her, and bend her to his will?
“No,” Raye snapped, her voice dangerously thin, as she stalked toward the window, and stared blankly out at the forest beyond. “No, Gael. Can’t you juststopwith all the conditions? With the bribery? With constantly trying to bind me and bully me into what you want?”
