The vows. Raye stilled and blinked at Gaelfr, and he looked at her too, his eyes so bright, his shaky hand rising to his heart. And Raye almost sobbed as her own hand slid up to clasp his, holding it there against his heart, as if needing to feel it, to savour every breath —
“I love you,sæta,” Gaelfr whispered, his chest heaving beneath their clasped hands. “And with the goddess as my witness, I — I grant you my axe, and my favour, and my fealty. I shall honour you, and cherish you, and care for you, and keep you safe. For as long as I bear breath.”
His voice quaked all through Raye’s body, because — she remembered these words. They were almost the same words Kalfr had said to her, kneeling before her, what felt like an eternity ago. It was the matehood vow. The vow that would finally bind her and Gaelfr together as full partners, parents, lovers, family.
It meant — Gaelfr was hers. Her mate. For good.
Raye’s breath caught, her hand spasming against his — and suddenly she was laughing, and perhaps weeping, all at once. Lost in the relief of it, the sacred final truth of it, brought here to life before them. Her mate. Hermate.
In a jerky movement, Gaelfr swept her close into his arms, wrapping her up against him, and maybe he was weeping too, gasping into her hair. And now here was Kalfr, embracing them both, dragging them all tightly together, wrapping them in warmth and safety and peace. Her mate, her mates, and it couldn’t be real, it couldn’t.
But it was, it was here beside her, within her, brought to life all around her. Her garden. Her home. Her mates. Her family. So calm and warm and blessed, safe and at peace, just as the goddess wished.
And as Raye’s face turned fully to the moon, bathed in its silvery grace, she could almost see the figure from her dream, winking toward her, turning to face her in the light. Seeing her, knowing her, meeting her. Offering up her trust, her bounty, her blessing.
“Thank you,” Raye whispered, to her, to her loves, to the shining, hopeful world around them. “I’m so glad to be home.”
EPILOGUE
Men were creeping around thebyrgiagain.
“So this is the weaver’s place?” a deep voice called out. “Awful big and sturdy for a lone woman, isn’t it? Look at the size of that garden.”
Raye strode toward the door, and cast one more swift glance around at thebyrgi’s main room, making sure there were no obvious weapons or other orcish items lying about. Of course, there were multiple axes and swords mounted on the wall around the door — her own shining sword among them — but those were a last resort. And instead, over the past few months, they’d worked out a highly effective alternate strategy, full of their combined cleverness and skill.
Raye waited until she heard the boots crunching around the front door, closer and closer — and then she swept the door open with a flourish. Revealing the startled faces of three unfamiliar men, all of them smartly dressed in northern military attire, with swords hanging at their belts.
“Can I help you, gentlemen?” Raye asked, raising her brows. “Is there something you need?”
For a beat, the three men stared at her, and then they staggered back in comical unison, the dismay and alarm flashing through their eyes. And Raye had to bite back her smile as she held herself still in the doorway, and allowed them to look their fill.
She was a sight, she knew. Her old shabby dresses had come in very handy, especially after plenty of dirty work in the garden, and this one was now stretched almost to bursting around her pregnant belly. But even more compelling, she well knew, were the garish welts and pock-marks smattered across her face — and best of all was the small black-and-white skunk currently sniffing for treats around her feet, its fluffy tail raised menacingly toward the door.
“What the hell,” one of the men gasped, staggering a few more steps backwards. “What the fuck is wrong with you? And don’t you realize what you have in your house?”
Raye cast a placid smile down toward Mr. Stinkles, and nodded. “Yes, my new kitten is adorable, isn’t he?” she asked. “I just found him today. The dog hasn’t even met him yet.”
Perfectly on cue, a loud, frenzied barking emanated from the back bedroom’s closed door, prompting the men to take several more panicked steps backwards. “And your face?” one of them demanded. “What is that, the pox?!”
Raye shrugged, gave a dismissive wave of her pockmarked hand. “The doctor said something like that, I think,” she said, as she thoughtfully scratched one with her finger. “He didn’t say it wasn’t fatal, though, so nothing to worry about, I’m sure.”
The men had all begun to look sweaty and pale, one of them scratching uncomfortably at his neck, and Raye gave them another placid smile. “Is there anything else, then?” she inquired blandly. “Would you like to come in for some tea?”
The men exchanged more panicked looks, and the first one — likely their captain, a handsome young fellow with croppedbrown curls — cleared his throat, and gripped his hand tightly at his sword hilt. “We’re just doing some follow-ups,” he said, with creditable steadiness. “On behalf of the Council. We had sources who claimed there was a hidden orc fortress around these parts.”
Raye bit back her sigh, because despite a deeply irate Sybil still being held in a secure location, and her teams of mercenaries now mostly disbanded, her previous actions had continued to haunt them in her wake. Namely, she’d apparently told Lord Nash and his men of various locations where she suspected orcs were hiding their secret fortresses, with women like Raye aiding and abetting them.
Of course, it also couldn’t be argued that Raye herself had added to their suspicions, thanks to the way she’d supposedly killed both Sybil and herself back at her cottage. However, the orcs themselves still hadn’t been publicly connected with Raye’s actions in any way, and in a rather depressing development, Lord Nash hadn’t even bothered trying to retrieve Sybil’s body from Raye’s burnt-out cottage, or those of the mercenaries his Council had hired, either. Instead, he’d apparently decided to continue his hunt for thebyrgis, surely knowing that there was still plenty of political capital left to be gained in the prospect of orcs infiltrating the realm with their secret fortresses.
“Oh, yes, there’s an orc fortress,” Raye announced to the men, making them blink. “It’s right over there.”
She pointed toward the huge, smoking Orc Mountain off to the west, prompting all the men to frown at her, and dart nervous glances over their shoulders toward it. “I’m sure you could go visit there, instead,” Raye continued blithely. “I heard those orcs like men, don’t they? Evenlovethem, if you know what I mean.”
She was just winding them up, based on how the band’s orcs still always fell all over themselves for Aulis — but she didn’t quite expect the way the handsome captain flinched andstared at her, the blood draining from his face. While the two men behind him looked typically unsettled, exchanging uneasy glances, and stepping back further from the door.
“Uh, so do you live here alone, then?” one of the other men asked, into his captain’s ongoing stunned silence. “Who’s the… the father?”
He waved awkwardly toward Raye’s jutting belly, and she smiled as she stroked a hand against it. “Oh, my ex,” she said. “He even built us this beautiful house, but then he up and ran off, for good! Said he thought I was either losing my mind, or cursed.”
