The bile surged again in her throat, and she clamped her mouth shut, buried her face in her hands. While Gaelfr’s hand kept stroking her, and a low growl vibrated through his body beside her.
“Ach, woman,” he said, his voice a rasp. “I ought to have been here. Ought to have foreseen this. Ought never to have left you alone thus.”
Raye exhaled into her hands, but then dropped them, and shook her head. Gods knew she and Svein had been alone here long before Gaelfr had shown up, and she hadn’t warned him about the men snooping around, either. None of this had been Gaelfr’s fault, and he… he’d come back. Like he’d said. Her threat to the men hadn’t been an empty one, after all.
“I ought never to have left,” Gaelfr said, almost more to himself than to her. “I am sorry,sæta.”
Sæta? Raye darted a wet-eyed look toward his face, but he was glowering viciously toward the closed door, his jaw set. “Naught to fear now,” he said firmly. “I will not leave you again, not until Kalfr returns. You and Svein are safe with me.”
Oh. They were safe with him.
And Raye still couldn’t trust him, she knew that, he was still leaving — but it still felt like he’d lifted a crushing weight off her exhausted shoulders. And she couldn’t stop herself from leaning closer into him, her head sinking against his shoulder, her body sagging into his solid stubborn strength. They were safe.
Gaelfr’s hand kept stroking against her, moving warm and reassuring up and down her back, and Raye fought the urge to turn her head, to breathe in the rich scent of his shoulder. Or even to slide her arm around his waist, to guide him down to lie on the bed…
“But… did you find what you were looking for?” she made herself ask, over that deeply disconcerting thought. “Did you send your message to Kalfr? And what if he comes back, what if the men see him, and then —”
Gaelfr cut her off with a low shushing noise, his hand slipping sideways to her shoulder, drawing her closer against him. “I did find a scout to send word to Kalfr,” he said. “But it shall take at least a day to reach him, and then another day for him to journey here. We yet have time.”
It sagged Raye heavier against his shoulder, and for an instant, she felt almost relieved. They still had time, before Kalfr returned, and Gaelfr would stay, until then. And why did she want Gaelfr to stay, she should be remembering the night before, all his orders and threats. She couldn’t trust him…
“What will we do?” Raye asked him, her voice thin. “If the men come back before then? If they threaten us again? Or try to burn down the cottage?”
She searched Gaelfr’s too-close face, his set mouth, his glittering eyes. And his stubborn settled certainty, already so familiar, so safe.
“If they dare seek to harm what ismine,” he replied, hard and furious, “then I will gladly kill them all.”
13
For the rest of the evening, Raye almost forgot the men, and the danger.
It was partly that echoing threat of Gaelfr’s —I will gladly kill them all— and partly the way he behaved afterwards, too. As if nothing whatsoever was amiss, and he wasn’t even slightly concerned about the men.
“I caught a pheasant for us, on my way home,” he told them, once he’d fetched Svein from his room again. “Will you both come help me ready it, and cook us some supper?”
Will you both. As if he wanted Raye there, too. And what would have usually been a messy, unpleasant job soon turned out to be surprisingly painless. Not only did Gaelfr speak politely to Raye, asking for her help with this or that, but he also taught Svein how to use his claws to dress and cut the meat, and explained what parts were best for orcs or humans to eat. He again showed himself to be a surprisingly attentive teacher, and didn’t once raise his voice, or show a single sign of impatience — not even when Svein accidentally squirted fresh partridge blood into Gaelfr’s face. To which Gaelfr only laughed and lickedhis long, curling black tongue at it, and firmly proclaimed its tastiness while Raye cringed and groaned.
They cooked supper together too, Gaelfr simmering the meat while Raye chopped up a few root vegetables from her stores, and added her own seasonings. And again, the meal proved to be thoroughly delicious, enough that Raye didn’t even try to argue when Gaelfr dumped a large second helping onto her plate.
“Now, how about that sparring, son?” Gaelfr asked, once they’d all finished eating. “I should like to try these wooden swords of yours.”
Svein excitedly nodded, and leapt up and fetched the swords from the corner. But then he hesitated, casting an uncertain look toward the dimming light beyond the papered window. “But it’s almost dark out,” he said, with a sigh. “We can’t go outside after dark.”
“Ach, we can,” Gaelfr replied, as he reached for one of the swords, and flipped it in his hand. “It is mayhap the safest time of all, since orcs can see in the dark, whilst men cannot. And —”
His voice broke, his mouth twisting, and he slowly raised the sword to his face. Inhaling deeply against its long wooden blade, which slightly trembled before his nose. “Ach,” he said, his tone far less certain than before. “Kalfrmade these?”
Raye blinked — she hadn’t known Kalfr hadmadethem — but Svein rapidly nodded, his grin wide and bright. “Ach,” he said, just the way Gaelfr had. “I’ve tried really hard not to touch the blades much, so his smell will stay.”
Wait. Really? Svein had been trying to preserve his father’s scent? He’d never told Raye that, and something complicated twisted in her belly as Svein kept beaming at Gaelfr, as if he’d done something to be proud of. And perhaps Gaelfr agreed, inhaling deeply against the blade again, his lashes fluttering low.
“Ach, this is good, son,” he replied, hoarse. “Kalfr’s scent is near as strong upon this as it is upon you, and your mother.”
He shot a wry half-smile toward Raye’s face, and her stomach twisted again, as inexplicable heat rose in her cheeks. Was Gaelfr saying — helikedthat smell on her? Or wait, of course he did, because he’d made it repeatedly clear that it wasallhe liked about her. Right?
But once Gaelfr had waved Svein toward the door, his hand settled against Raye’s back, guiding her outside with them. As if he truly wanted to touch her, wanted her to come. And his head even bent toward her hair as they went, his breath inhaling slow and deep.
He only dropped his hand once they were out in the front garden, well away from Raye’s plants. “Now, have you done any sparring before, son?” he asked Svein. “You and your mother together, mayhap?”
