“That ought to be a little better for you, son,” he told Svein, once he’d finished. “When your mother asks, you will hide there as long as she says, ach?”
Svein solemnly nodded, and Gaelfr patted his head before turning toward the door. Fastening his huge axe high onto his back, and then strapping on his sword, too, and his cloak. He was really leaving, and Raye swallowed down the tightness in her throat. She didn’t care. Shedidn’t. And Gaelfr had said he was only staying until Kalfr returned anyway. Right?
“You’re sure you’ll come back?” Svein asked now, his voice small. “You promise, Papa?”
Papa. It was enough to make Raye flinch, and she frowned at where Gaelfr was gazing down at Svein, his hand settling against his shoulder. “Ach, my son,” he said roughly. “I will do all within my power to come back to you. I swear this.”
Svein’s shoulders sagged as he nodded, and scuffed at the floor with his foot. And after a squeeze to Svein’s shoulder, Gaelfr glanced toward Raye at the loom, his mouth pressed thin. “Keep the door barred, woman,” he said flatly. “Go out only to use the latrine, and take your axe with you. And allow no one entry, until I return.”
Of course. Another series of ridiculous unnecessary commands. And if Raye had harboured any faint, foolish regrets about Gaelfr leaving, they were now thoroughly crushed, and she spun back to her loom without another look, or a word of farewell. She did not care. Shedidn’t.
But the sound of the door closing felt foreboding, thudding through Raye’s ribs, and even worse was the sound of Svein quietly sniffling behind her. And when she whipped around to look, he was gazing at the closed door with wide, sad eyes, the tears streaking down his cheeks.
“Papa Gaelfr left, Mama,” he said, hugging Mr. Snuggles tightly to his chest. “Heleft.”
The ache flared through Raye’s belly, and she lurched toward Svein, and drew his slim sobbing body into her arms. Squeezing him as tightly as she dared, stroking her hands at his hair. “It’s all right, love,” she said, though her voice hitched. “He’ll come back. He promised he would.”
But damn it, now she was here reinforcing Gaelfr’s promises for him, feeding their empty hope to her weeping son, when she had no idea whatsoever whether Gaelfr would keep his word. He could disappear forever, they might never see him again, and this was another reason Raye had barred orcs from her life. She couldn’t trust them, she couldn’t…
It took far too long to settle Svein down again, a process that ended up requiring not only a snack, but several songs and stories, and also a lengthy playtime session with Mr. Snuggles — who now spoke proudly of his own “Papa Gaelfr”. And by the end of it, it was well past noon, and Raye’s head ached, and she was thoroughly regretting ever letting Gaelfr through her door, let alone into her precious son’s life.
But then — a bang at the door. Sharp, sudden, demanding. And Raye’s head snapped up, while a traitorous hopefulness sparked through her chest. Had Gaelfr returned already? Had he changed his mind? Come back for Svein? For… her?
But — no. Because that wasn’t hope, or relief, in Svein’s still-damp eyes. No, it was fear, and his nostrils sniffled again as they flared, as he angrily wiped at his nose.
No. It was the men. Themen.
“Open up, weaver,” came a hard, demanding voice. “Or else!”
11
The fear screamed through Raye’s skull, flashed behind her eyes.
No. No.No.
Before her, Svein had begun trembling, the whites fully visible around his eyes, and it took all Raye’s effort to give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and gently shove him toward his room. And thank the gods, he went, his head ducked low, Mr. Snuggles clutched tightly against his chest.
“Did you not hear us, weaver?” cut in the man’s voice again, deeper this time. “Open up, and come out! We’re here on behalf of the magistrate!”
Raye squeezed her eyes shut, waited for the familiar lowthunkof Svein’s trapdoor closing, while her screeching thoughts frantically considered and discarded possible options. How many men were there? Were they really here on behalf of the province’s magistrate? If she refused them entry, what would they do? Could she put them off until Gaelfr returned? What if Gaelfr never returned?
“We have a written order to speak to you, weaver,” insisted the voice. “Now open up!”
Gods damn it,damnit, and after one last desperate look at Svein’s closed door, Raye crept toward the papered window at the front of the house. And with a silent prayer to the gods, she carefully lifted just the corner of the paper, and looked.
And yes, there were multiple men, clustered together on her doorstep. At least a half-dozen of them, big and rough and unshaven. And though Raye couldn’t remember seeing any of them in the village before, a few of them looked vaguely familiar, didn’t they?
One of the men banged on the door again, making her leap back from the window, and she gripped her hands together, and dragged in a deep breath. She couldn’t open the door, or let them in. She couldn’t.No.
“If you really have an order,” she called back, shaky, “then I want to see it. Slide it in on top of the door.”
There was a small crack at the top of the door, one Raye had repeatedly tried and failed to fix, and after a moment’s grumbling from outside, a small folded sheet of paper poked through. And when Raye clutched for it, unfolded it, she found that it was indeed an official-looking document from both the provincial magistrate and the realm’s ruling Council, led by Lord Nash. But it was only a demand for an official interview, with no reasons listed, and Raye fought for clarity, for focus.
“This saysnothingabout granting you entry,” she called, though her voice still wavered. “And I’ve done nothing wrong. I’m a quiet, law-abiding citizen, minding my own business. There is no reason whatsoever for you to speak with me!”
Her voice had gone too sharp, too close to the edge, and she clamped her mouth shut. While a sound much like a laugh carried through the door, along with the distinct clink of a weapon. “We’re registering all the places in the province that are harbouring and abetting orcs,” came the reply. “And we have good reason to believe you’re one of them!”
Raye shot another helpless look toward Svein’s closed door, and hauled in a bracing breath. “Yes, it’s common knowledge that I have an orc son,” she replied, as steadily as she could. “But he mostly stays indoors, and never goes into the village. He’s of no harm to anyone!”
