“Who did you say was administering the henbane?” she asked Baldr, once Joarr had gone into the hut, leaving them both waiting outside. “A healer of some sort, I presume?”
Her thoughts were suddenly racing, crashing together all at once, because gods, how had she forgotten about this? About how Joarr had told her — yes, quite clearly — that Orc Mountain needed a midwife. But how back in that Bautul room, Silfast had insisted that they already had strong healers here. That Stella already had good care…
“And would that be the same healer,” Gwyn continued, speaking faster now, “who’s taking care of Stella?”
Baldr nodded, and glanced toward where Joarr was already striding back out of the hut, a small bottle in hand. “Yes, our Chief Healer is Efterar, of Clan Ash-Kai,” Baldr said brightly, as he took the bottle from Joarr. “He bears much skill, and is mayhap the best healer in the realm. Enough that he does not always use herbs this way, but the Ka-esh have been a good influence upon him, I think.”
With that, he gave them both a friendly wave, and then turned back toward the mountain. Leaving Gwyn alone with Joarr again, who hadn’t spoken a word to her since Baldr’s arrival — and who was once again wearing that mask over his eyes, hiding himself away. Hiding the truth.
Because what exactly had Silfast said, back in that room?We do not need help, he’d claimed.We have a strong healer here, and many clever Ka-esh, who take good care of our mates.
And whatever mental justification Gwyn had been harbouring around that — that Silfast had been exaggerating, or posturing at Joarr’s expense — was now decisively dashed. And in its place, even more dark thoughts were swarming, dragging down her head, her heart. They already had healers here. She wasn’t needed here. And Joarr had lied to her,again.
“So when you said,” she began, her eyes not fully meeting Joarr’s now, “that it would be helpful to bring a midwife here — was that just more manipulation from you, then? More half-truths, to help you get what you wanted from me?”
There was an instant’s silence in return, surely betraying that she’d struck close to the truth — and she heard herself laugh, the sound grating in her ears. “And maybe you never truly intended for me to do any real midwifery work here at all,” she continued, her voice brittle. “Because a lord’s daughter can’t be a real midwife, right? Not even if I paid for all my training myself, or did it all with no support, because no one else cared, they thought it was a stupid, self-indulgentfantasy. A whim of a dotty, plant-obsessed lord’s daughter, who can’t even —”
She belatedly broke off there, pressing her hands painfully against her eyes, because gods, where had she been going with that? A lord’s daughter who couldn’t even keep an orc’s attention, beyond hisfun? Who kept playing into his slippery fingers, and believing his lies, and making herself hispawn?
Stupid. So, sostupid.
But suddenly Joarr’s tall body was here, snapped close before her, his strong hands clamping around her wrists. Yanking them away from her eyes, wanting her to look at him, to meet the… thedisbeliefin his glittering gaze.
“No, woman,” he said, his voice firm. “No. You no speak all this. Youaremidwife. And you ought to be here, for our mountain lacks this. Weneedthis.”
Gwyn blankly blinked at him, and had to fight through the fog for a reply. “But you apparently have the best healer in therealmworking here,” she countered, too shrill. “And Silfast said —”
The rest of that thought was muffled by the abrupt clap of Joarr’s hand over her mouth, his eyes flashing with sharp, surprising fervour. “Youneverspeak to me of what Silfast say,” he shot back. “Silfast knownaughtof this, and he think he say truth, when he have none. He say Stella have good care, but you meet her, ach? You see her? You ken she is happy here? You ken she stay here to bear Silfast this son he longs for?”
Gwyn blinked again, while her scattering thoughts twisted back toward Stella, toward her reddened, tired eyes, her wan smile, her soft voice. How she’d looked at Silfast. How she’d seemed almost… sad. Uncertain. Alone.
“No,” Joarr continued, his eyes hard. “Silfast push his mate away, so she go. And she is no quick, wilful woman like you, ach? She no find own way, with no help. She walk straight into this new law. Into these men. Intodeath.”
Oh. A horrible little shiver snaked up Gwyn’s back, and Joarr twitched a nod, as if she’d somehow spoken her agreement aloud. “Stella havegoodcare,” he said, his lip curling. “She have Efterar, and the Ka-esh medics also. They bear much skill, ach — but they are yet orcs, and no human. They are no close enough to gain her trust. And” — his eyes shifted in the brightening sunlight — “they see only her flesh, ach? They seek to heal only this. They say she is weary. Must rest. Grow son. This is all.”
Gwyn winced against Joarr’s hand, digesting all that, because yes, actually, he did have a point. Her best midwifery mentors — and the ones with the most successful outcomes, as well — had repeatedly spoken of how prenatal care needed to extend beyond just physical needs, and consider the woman as a whole.
It was a truth that Gwyn had taken fully to heart, and had seen bear out in her own practice, too. Women needed to feel safe, comfortable, prepared. They needed to know they were supported, and had options. And sometimes, they needed help against their families and intimate partners most of all.
“But,” Gwyn belatedly said, pulling at Joarr’s hand on her mouth, feeling it easily slide downwards at her touch. “Has it never occurred to you that perhaps itwouldbe better for Stella to leave? That if Silfast is cruel to her here, she may very well be better off away from him?”
Joarr grimaced, and his eyes shifted again, gone distant behind his mask. “Silfast is no cruel, he is a fool,” he snapped. “This is no the same. And Stella is nobetter offif she isdead!”
There was more surprising vehemence in his voice, firing another uneasy chill up Gwyn’s back, and Joarr jerked a hard shake of his head, as if to jolt something out of it. “You ken thesesolutionsyour father wields against these woman are safe?” he sneered, his eyes again sharp on hers. “You ken these humanphysiciansshall take good care, most of all when this woman bears an orc son?”
Gwyn’s stomach was unpleasantly roiling, and Joarr barked a bitter laugh, the sound at awful, scraping odds with the lush greenery and sunlight all around them. “And you ken Stella is only one?” he hissed at her. “Only woman who shall meet death at the hands of this? Even onlyBautulwoman?”
Gwyn swallowed hard, her eyes desperately searching Joarr’s cold, strangely hostile face. Catching on that inexplicable certainty in his eyes on hers, glittering,accusing. Not without reason, because her very own lord father was doing this. Putting women at risk. Endangering them.
Killingthem.
Gwyn swallowed again, raised her chin. “Do you think,” she began, her voice hoarse, “that Stella might see me today?”
Joarr’s eyes again shifted, slipped behind his mask — but then he nodded, curt and quick. “Mayhap,” he said. “She may no yet agree to midwife, but I ken she wish forfriend. Also” — he briefly touched his hand to the tooth around his neck, his voice tellingly casual — “whilst you sleep last eve, I also send away yet two more orcs, who wish you to see their mates today.”
Hewhat?! “Why,” Gwyn demanded at him, her own anger rapidly rising, “would you do such a thing?!”
Joarr blinked at her, but then shrugged, not nearly as careless as it looked. “I owe you onlyfun, this day,” he said, voice clipped. “Onlyafterthis, shall you stay and help.”
