“And thus, I must hold our kin to account,” the orc replied, his deep voice a growl, his eyes glowering back at Joarr’s face. “And most of all those who make vows, and then flaunt theirfailureto keep them!”
Gwyn felt Joarr’s hand clutching against her back, but his eyes remained impassive, his face expressionless. “I nofail,” he said, voice clipped. “I only alter my means. And I spoke of this to the captain today, and he has granted me leave upon this. So why no you?”
Gwyn’s eyes narrowed, darting back and forth between the two orcs, while her whirling brain fought to catch up again. So this Silfast orc had been involved in that destroy-her-life plan too? And not only that, but Joarr had made some kind ofvowabout it? Tohim?
“Ach, thecaptain,” Silfast sneered at Joarr, baring a row of deadly white teeth. “You ken the captain’s leave absolves you of your vow? Again, you show you have learnt nothing of your clan, or your goddess!”
Hisgoddess? But yes, Joarr’s hand had again clenched on Gwyn’s back, again suggesting that there was some truth to this, some weight he surely didn’t welcome. “I no dishonour the goddess,” he replied, without inflection. “I oft seek her, in this.”
He had? Gwyn’s surprise must have shown on her face, because this Silfast’s snarl had twitched into a chilly smile, his eyes now glinting on hers. “Ach, is this truth, woman?” he demanded. “Has ourbrotheroft spoken of his goddess to you, as a true Bautul would? Has he taught you her ways, and what shall be expected of you, now that he has placed his scent upon you, and brought you here, to our sacred hearth?”
Gwyn’s heart skipped a beat, her eyes again darting up at Joarr’s face — but again, he was looking straight ahead, impassive, unmoving. As though his mask had consumed him whole, emptied him of his life and his laughter, and there was an odd, inexplicable pang of sympathy, jolting in her belly.
“Joarr did speak of his goddess, several times,” she belatedly replied, lifting her chin toward Silfast. “But my decision to accompany him here was quite sudden, and then we were almost instantly pursued by men. So there was very little time to delve into specifics.”
But if she thought that would help, she’d utterly miscalculated, because the rage in Silfast’s eyes only kindled higher, his huge body rounding back toward Joarr, his growl rising in his throat. But again Stella clutched at her mate’s arm, her eyes wide, her agitated urgency even more palpable than before.
“We arehappyto have you here, Gwyn,” she said meaningfully, fixing her tired eyes back on Gwyn’s face. “And if you’re new to the clan, of course you’re new to the goddess as well. She is the Goddess of Bautul — of this clan — and though she’s best found in the moon, she often meets us in other forms, as well.”
Stella’s hand fluttered purposefully beyond them, toward the middle of the room — and when Gwyn spun to look, it was to the unnerving realization that nearly all the room’s orcs had stopped their cavorting, in favour of watching them. Watching all this, no doubt, and listening, andjudging. Judging her, and clearly judging Joarr, as well.
But Joarr was still offering no help whatsoever, the mask still firmly in place over his eyes, all life locked beneath. Except… except for that brief, telling glance toward the tall chimney in the middle of the room, with the fire crackling at its base.
It surely meant something, something important — so Gwyn studied the chimney again, more carefully this time. Looking at the rounded weight of its stone base, filled with that lively fire, and then narrowing as it rose. As it then swelled again, curving out and in before blending into the stone ceiling.
Oh.Ohhhh. It was a woman’s figure, with a fire in its belly. Or rather, perhaps, life. A child.
And Gwyn could readily appreciate the symbolism in that, and she nodded as she turned back toward Stella, and even attempted a smile. “It’s a lovely representation,” she said. “And I presume you have specific practices around the Goddess of Bautul? Or certain rituals, and such?”
Stella immediately smiled again, obvious relief flaring in her tired eyes. “Yes, exactly,” she said. “And one of these” — she shot Silfast a swift, unreadable look, her face slightly reddening — “guides how newcomers are brought into the clan.”
Gwyn couldn’t help another glance up at Joarr, who still remained infuriatingly useless, locked like that behind his mask. “I see,” she replied, and after another instant’s awkward silence, fumbled for a polite question. “And how does that ritual work, exactly?”
Stella’s face had flushed even deeper, and beside her Silfast huffed a satisfied-sounding snort, settling his huge, heavy arm around Stella’s shoulders. “Anyone seeking to join our clan,” he said, “must first seek the goddess’ favour here, upon our sacred altar.”
His gaze had also slid purposefully behind them, and when Gwyn again turned to look, she indeed found a large, circular stone table she hadn’t noticed before, placed close before the crackling fire. It was covered with a heavy helping of furs, and it had the look of something very ancient, something that might have stood here long before the orcs had arrived.
“I see,” Gwyn said again, in the absence of anything else to add. “And the newcomer speaks some sort of prayer here, asking the goddess’ favour?”
But the Silfast orc barked a heavy laugh, his taunting eyes again fixed on Joarr. “Theseekerdoes not speak,” he said flatly. “The seeker is bared, and opened, and offered before the clan. The seeker then anoints the altar with fresh, rightfully earned Bautul seed, drawn from her orc, whilst his clan bears witness. And after this, herBautulbegs for her welcome.”
Oh. Well, damn. Because of course this awful orc would be talking about a ritual likethat. And of course he’d be eyeing Gwyn like that, too, all smug triumphantsuperiority. Like he was just waiting for her to be shocked and appalled, and to perhaps excoriate Joarr for associating with such degenerates, before turning tail and running out of his mountain forever.
But instead, Gwyn’s hands had somehow come to her hips, her eyes narrowing on Silfast’s hideous face. Because she certainly wasn’t about to give this asshole the satisfaction of being shocked, was she? Especially at the oh-so-profound revelation that a clan apparently chock-full of exhibitionist orcs would obviously want newcomers to also embrace their exhibitionist ways? All while wielding some highly convenient divine directive to ensure ready compliance?
“Sounds like quite the welcome party,” she said, as smoothly as she could. “Now, as I mentioned, I’m a midwife, and I’ve come here to work, so” — her eyes settled back to Stella’s tired face, her tone reflexively softening — “if you might have any interest in a brief consultation, I would be happy to oblige? Or perhaps you’d like to hear more about my experience and qualifications first, and give it some thought?”
But instead of replying, Stella winced, and angled a wary look up at Silfast. Who had stepped slightly forward, his clawed finger pointing at Joarr’s chest, his eyes flinty on Joarr’s impassive face. “No,” he said, his voice hard. “You shall not escape this,brother, nor again slip away from what is your due. You bring a woman here who bears your scent, you next honour your clan’s ways with her. Most of all if you claim you do not deny your vow before the goddess, and yet swear you mean to keep your word!”
Gwyn again surely wasn’t following, her eyes darting back and forth between them. “Excuse me,” she said, her voice unmistakably sharp. “I told you, Joarr brought me here to work. Tohelpyou. This hasnothingto do with him.”
But Silfast barked a loud, mocking laugh, and suddenly Gwyn was again far too aware of all the watching orcs, their eyes prickling on her back. “You are wrong, woman,” he growled at her. “We do not need help. We have a gifted healer here, and many clever Ka-esh, who offer good care for our mates. And a Bautulneverbrings a woman here to our hearth without claiming her before the goddess and his clan, andhefull knows this!”
Wait. So Silfast was truly saying theyhadto do this ridiculous exhibitionist ritual, then? And, Gwyn’s role as a midwife didn’t matter here, because they already had a healer? Multiple healers? And Joarr…knewthis?
But Gwyn’s quick, uneasy look up at Joarr’s face told her nothing,nothing. As though he was fully gone, vanished, hidden away, lost. Leaving her here all alone, with a room full of deadly watching orcs, and her own foolish vow that she’d so foolishly made.
Show me your mettle and your wits and your hunger for me, as you walk amongst my kin.
