“Do we gain a prize?” Skirvir’s deep voice demanded, as he angled a hungry look toward a nearby Fengr, but Gaelfr shot him a quelling glare, and announced that the winning team would be the first to try Grum’s special new dessert of sweet honey nut tarts.
This led to cheers all around, and soon the participating warriors were milling about in the ring, choosing weapons and rousing their teams. Gaelfr ended up leading one team, including Kalfr of course, plus all the other warriors from thebyrgi. While Silfast and Olarr each led teams from the mountain, and a huge orc named Skroggr — one of Inga’s mates — led a team of orcs from the south. And once they were all set up facing each other, Gaelfr let out a war cry, and the Brawl began.
It was an utterly overwhelming sight, with dozens of orcs all hurling themselves at each other at once, and at first, Raye could scarcely follow what was happening. But Gwyn and Stella beside her were well used to Bautul melees by now, and gaveher regular commentary between their loud cheering for their mates, who were both on the same team. “Nobody’s going to try for Kalfr and Gaelfr yet, their bond-fighting makes them too overpowered for melee,” Gwyn rapidly explained, her eyes intent on the sight, “but damn it, Arne’s fallen to Tolkr on the southern team. He’s a top contender, that was really brilliant swordplay, so Joarr’s going to target him for that, probably going to climb on Silfast when Tolkr isn’t expecting it —yes!”
Joarr had just thrown himself off Silfast’s shoulders in a flying twisting leap, tackling the unsuspecting Tolkr to the ground, and hurling his wooden sword off into the trees over the spectators’ heads. Earning a chorus of appreciative cheers all around, and Raye happily joined in, though she kept glancing back to Kalfr and Gaelfr, who were still holding their ground, but not pushing or being targeted either, like Gwyn had said. Instead, they were picking out single targets one by one, catching stragglers from the other teams and defending their own warriors, especially Eyolf and Iyolf, who had continued to improve their own bond-fighting skills, but still didn’t have nearly as much experience as Kalfr and Gaelfr. And Raye yelped when another pair of southern warriors nearly broke Eyolf and Iyolf apart, but Kalfr and Gaelfr swooped back in just in time, Gaelfr’s axe whirling in its usual deadly arc around his head.
But slowly, the field began to thin, as more sweaty, sheepish orcs staggered over to Rurik and Efterar, who had been commandeered to make sure none of the participants gained any lasting injuries. This kind of care was still new for most of the clan, Gwyn told Raye with obvious relief, since apparently the Bautul at the mountain had used to fight each other nearly to the death, and it had taken significant ongoing efforts these past few years to make them see sense.
“Kalfr was a huge help with that, I must say,” she told Raye, “goddess bless him. And he was always a strong fighter back then too, but now, with Gaelfr — ach! Look at that!”
Kalfr and Gaelfr had just made their first real charge, taking out three of the mountain’s orcs at once, and Raye stomped and cheered as loudly as she could, and then kept cheering as they worked their way around the ring together. They really were unfairly effective, and perhaps it was the home advantage too, the intimate familiarity with every clump of dirt, every tuft of grass. And with the way Gaelfr still pushed all their band to train every day together, preparing for every possible outcome, keeping them safe at all costs.
Eyolf and Iyolf finally fell to the pair of southern orcs, and Skirvir to the always-impressive pair of Olarr and Aulis. Egil lasted a little longer, thanks to his quickness and scenting, and Othan was the last of their teammates to fall, still fighting with surprising effectiveness with only his bare fists. Until it was only the four team captains still standing, each still with their fighting partner beside them. And by this point, Raye could easily see how much of an advantage the bond-fighting offered — clearly the two orcs from the south shared a deep bond, and Olarr and Aulis did, as well. And though each of the pairs fought in their own ways, it was clear how they all anticipated each other’s movements, covering for each other, taking turns to conserve their strength.
“If only Joarr and Silfast had a bond, too,” Gwyn muttered, but then she blanched and shared a horrified glance with Stella. “Oh, good goddess, no. Please forget I ever said that.”
Raye merrily laughed along with Stella, and then cheered for Joarr as he executed a perfect flying flip to escape Olarr’s axe-blade. But that put him far too close to Gaelfr’s axe, which he had to duck to avoid, and Kalfr was already waiting, lunging out frombeneath Gaelfr’s axe with breathtaking speed, and tackling Joarr to the earth.
Beside Raye, Gwyn cursed and groaned, but she still smiled good-naturedly, and cheered for Silfast as he valiantly fought the three other pairs combined, until finally he fell, too. Leaving just those six orcs left, and Raye could see Olarr and Aulis signalling and shifting together with the southern orcs, orienting their combined forces toward Kalfr and Gaelfr.
Four against two should have been impossible odds, and Raye’s heart kept leaping into her throat as she watched, shouting so loud her voice was hoarse. But Kalfr and Gaelfr kept striking and dodging with purpose and power, Kalfr constantly returning to the safety of Gaelfr’s arms and his axe. And even at this distance, Raye could taste their focused intensity, their heightened awareness of each other. The way Kalfr was touching Gaelfr constantly now, making him wait, watching for an opening, for the perfect gift from the goddess…
And — there. One of the southern orcs lunged in front of Olarr, his axe sweeping up — and with a furious flying kick, Kalfr knocked him back into Olarr, who in turn reeled into Aulis, who had to dodge away to the right, straight into where the second southern orc was staggering back, too. And in a dizzying flurry of movement, a spate of shouts and curses, they all collapsed to the ground at once, while Kalfr and Gaelfr thrust their weapons up in victory, and the audience erupted in shouts and cheers.
Raye didn’t even catch herself sprinting forward until she was hurling herself into Kalfr’s arms — but Svein was right behind her, and together they all toppled to the ground together, all of them laughing, while Kalfr and Gaelfr fought to catch their breath. “Ach, I did not think we had it,ástin mín,” Gaelfr gasped, hooking his arm around Kalfr’s shoulder, giving him a hard shake. “Should have known I could trust you.”
Kalfr grinned back with mingled fondness and gratitude, and nipped at Gaelfr’s ear. “Ach, always,” he murmured, his eyes angling toward Raye, and for an instant, it felt as strong as a vow, a sign of how far they’d come. They trusted each other, and it had given them so much strength, so much peace. Home. A family.
Svein had been watching them closely, from where he was still sprawled atop them all, and when Kalfr fondly grinned at him, too, Svein betrayed a short sniffle, and hurled himself down into his arms. “You’ve done such a good job, Papa,” he said thickly. “I’m so glad you came home.”
Kalfr’s eyes blinked with sudden brightness, but he folded Svein close, stroking at his messy hair. Until Svein hurled himself at Gaelfr, too, squeezing him tight, and then twisted to hug Raye. “I love you, Mama,” he whispered. “I love you so much.”
Raye’s eyes suddenly spilled over with tears, and she squeezed him back, inhaling deep breaths of his sweet, beloved scent. “I know, love,” she whispered. “I love you so much, too.”
Svein sniffled and nodded against her, and Raye held him for another quiet, perfect moment, while all the rest of the world faded away. Her precious son was safe, he was alive, he was happy, and surrounded by people who loved him. She’d always sought to do her best for him, and it had never been a failure. It had been enough. She’d always been enough.
Raye chuckled as Svein squirmed away again, in favour of flailing the wooden sword he was still holding, and demanding that Kalfr brawl with him against Papa Gael. To which Kalfr and Gaelfr both grinned and nodded, and soon the three of them were sparring together, Raye loudly cheering at every one of Svein’s little victories.
By the time they finished, it was fully dark out, and Svein had collapsed into Gaelfr’s arms, his eyes fluttering closed. And Gaelfr patted his head as he turned to take him toward thebyrgi,to where all the children were camping together for the night, under the watchful supervision of Grum and Ivar, another elder from the mountain.
It left Raye entirely alone with Kalfr, for what felt like the first time since their prayers, and when he met her eyes, she could taste his affection, and his simmering hunger, too. And when he drew her toward the altar, she went without hesitation, leaning into him, as he circled his arm around her, and pressed a kiss to her hair.
There were already multiple Bautul worshipping at the altar, drawn there as the night had deepened, as the full moon had risen above them. Some of them were only murmuring their prayers, or swaying to the drummers’ slow steady beat, but others were already tangled on the altar together, sharing their joy beneath the moon’s silvery light.
Kalfr silently led Raye through the midst of them, and though the altar was already crowded, the worshippers eased aside to make room, offering the day’s victoriousvörðurhis due. And when Kalfr tugged off Raye’s clothes, and guided her down onto her side on the altar’s soft furs, there wasn’t even an instant’s shame. And instead, she only smiled at him, circling her arms around his warm shoulders, welcoming his beloved body, with all its dirt and sweat and scars.
He slid into her smooth and easy, settling deep into where he belonged, and Raye arched as she welcomed it, opened for it, offered herself up to his pleasure and his light. To whatever her beloved mate wished to grant her, this night.
And it wasn’t always the same when they came together with their band to worship like this, every month beneath the full moon. Sometimes they would play their games together, and Kalfr would hurl out heated tests and commands, while Raye eagerly moaned and obeyed. Other times, their lovemaking was sweet and soft and worshipful, a way to find each other beneaththe moon, and welcome the goddess’ blessing upon them. And still other times, they spurred each other on to astonishing heights of pleasure, always with Gaelfr’s help, and with the help of their band, too, and any others who might wish to join them.
And as the months had passed, Raye had become more and more comfortable with sharing their worship on the altar, welcoming the help of their bandmates and friends. Finding genuine pleasure in the touch of their hands and mouths, their tongues teasing her peaked breasts, even their lips kissing reverently between her thighs. But the rest of her had always belonged to her mates, and them likewise to her, and these days, Raye had fully accepted her jealousy as not a failing or a weakness, but as part of being Bautul. Part of her trust, and her joy.
And it was only joy, now, as Kalfr buried himself again and again inside her, and then as Gaelfr’s bared body eased in to crouch over them, kissing them each in turn, caressing his hands in their hair. Guiding them to kiss each other, too, and Raye clung to Kalfr as she drank him up, inhaled the depth of his longing and his love.
Their fellow worshippers’ hands had also begun touching her now, stroking warm at her skin, tucking flowers into her hair. But all that mattered was this, her mate’s beautiful blessed body driving faster and smoother inside her, seeking its pleasure with her, its peace — and catching, sparking, pouring her full as he arched, his neck bared, his face bathed in white moonlight.
Next it was Gaelfr’s turn, slipping in between Raye and Kalfr on the fur, and filling her with his warm hungry strength, while Kalfr shifted down behind him, trailing hungry kisses all the way down his back, toward his crease. And Raye could feel Gaelfr swelling harder in return, his pleasure heating and sparking too, his powerful body rutting hard and fast beneath the urging of hisástvinur’s clever hands and mouth. And it was more joy,a shared prize between her and Kalfr both, when Gaelfr soon stiffened and sparked too, growling as he flooded her with his ecstasy and his favour.
