TheBautulgarden. A glance up at Joarr showed him looking patently irritated by this — but Gwyn was still irritated by him at the moment, and therefore decided to ignore him, in favour of dropping down onto the bench beside Stella. “Yes, and it was very lovely,” she replied, stretching her arms over her head. “I slept better than I have in weeks! How about you?”
Stella’s answering smile was surely part grimace, and she dropped her eyes back to her sewing. “Oh, you know,” she said, a little too offhandedly, her hand rubbing at her generously rounded waist. “This little fellow never sleeps, do you?”
Gwyn felt her mouth opening, about to ask the usual litany of questions — had Stella tried matching her sleep patterns to the baby’s, or perhaps cutting out certain foods — but thankfully she bit back the words, just in time. Stella needed a friend, Joarr had said. And truth be told, Gwyn could probably use a friend, too.
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” she said instead, and she meant it. “Not being able to sleep is awful. One time, I stayed awake for three days in a row, and by the end of it I was having visions of giant slugs invading my apartment, and eating all my favourite plants. It washarrowing.”
Stella’s half-smile was creeping upwards, a faint warmth sparking in her tired eyes. “Because of the slugs?” she asked. “Or your doomed plants?”
“Oh, definitely the plants,” Gwyn said, with a shudder that wasn’t at all put-upon. “Slugs, I can deal with. Losing my priceless garden,no.”
She couldn’t help a furtive, betraying look toward Joarr, who’d dropped to sit beside her on the bench. And in return, he nudged her elbow with his, in a gesture that might have been approving — or, perhaps, even comforting.
“I’ve always liked plants too,” Stella said now, her eyes fixed back to her hands. “And gardens, and just being busy out in the fresh air and sun. Although these days…”
Her voice trailed off, but her implication was far too clear — and this time, Gwyn’s mouth was running before she could stop it. “You don’t get outside, Stella?” she demanded. “But you’re pregnant. It’s a basicrequirement!”
Stella winced, and jerked her head back and forth. “I mean, I getoutside,” she said, very quickly. “Silfast doesn’t feel it’s safe for me to be out above ground right now, but there’s a little bluff up off the Ash-Kai wing, and a cozy Ka-esh sunroom, as well. Silfast makes sure I go to one of them every day to rest. He’sveryrigorous about his son’s needs.”
Her voice sounded bright, but her face looked even more miserable than before. And Gwyn’s indignation was much too strong to ignore at this point, and she frowned over at Stella, and perhaps the entire room, as well. “Well, his efforts would be far better spent onyourneeds,” she snapped. “And there’s absolutely no reason for a pregnant woman not to be busy and active outside, as long as she feels up to it. And if your partner is that concerned about your safety, why can’t he just accompany you?!”
Stella winced again, and this time her head dropped further, her shoulders sagging. “He used to, but there have been so many men around lately,” she said, quiet. “Huntingus. Some even with long-range crossbows. Last month, two men dug a hole — during a heavy rain — and hid themselves so well, that evenJoarrdidn’t see they were there.”
She attempted an apologetic smile over toward Joarr, who was indeed looking distinctly disgruntled, staring darkly across the room. While Gwyn’s twisting thoughts flicked back to the men in the woods, the dogs, the pinecone. Theorc-hunting, in blatant defiance of their own damned treaty. Of Gwyn’sfather’streaty.
“Right,” Gwyn replied, with a grimace. “But surely” — she shot Joarr a furtive glance — “there’s no reason you can’t come out to Joarr’s garden, at least? It seems quite secure, and perhaps you could even take on some work there, if you like? There’salwayssomething that needs doing in a garden.”
She was purposely avoiding Joarr’s eyes now, though she could feel his gaze boring into her, his disapproval prickling under her skin. But he’d given her leave to use his garden as he wished, and he wanted her to make friends, and maybe help Stella as well — and therefore, in what world could he possibly justify refusing Stella entry into his garden? And even more ridiculous, refusing Stella’shelp?
“It’s so kind of you to offer,” Stella replied, with a too-aware glance of her own toward Joarr. “But I’m sure Joarr doesn’t need intruders, and I don’t think Silfast —”
She broke off there, just as Gwyn felt another pointed nudge of Joarr’s elbow in her side. And that was because — her eyes snapped upward — here, indeed, was Silfast himself. Looming in the doorway opposite, glowering balefully toward them — and then striding across the room with powerful, angry-looking steps.
“What is this?” Silfast demanded down at Joarr, once he’d swept to a halt before them. “You wait until theonetime I am away, before you come here and pounce upon my mate? When youknowshe does not need more care for our son?!”
Joarr slowly unfolded his body from beside Gwyn, and smoothly rose to his feet before Silfast. And to Gwyn’s vague surprise, this close Joarr was actually the taller of the two, looking down his nose toward Silfast’s angry eyes.
“We nopounce,” Joarr replied, his voice deceptively casual. “We come to see Bautul kin. And woman wish to make friends.”
Silfast looked deeply unconvinced, his eyes still dark and narrow on Joarr’s. “I see your slippery ways,brother,” he said flatly. “You have scorned our sacred hearth for three whole moons, andnowyou wish to see Bautul kin? Wish to makefriends?”
“Indeed,” Gwyn piped up from the bench. “Just today, I’ve already met Kalfr, and Olarr, and Eyolf and Iyolf, and Egil and Thorvald and Arne and Matuk and Grum. And Magni, and his dancer friends, too.”
Grum, who was currently grinding against another orc’s arse nearby, had glanced over his shoulder at the sound of his name — and Gwyn even smiled, and gave him a cheerful little wave. “They’ve all been so lovely and welcoming,” she said, shifting her smile back toward Silfast’s face. “I suppose earning the goddess’ blessing like we did yesterday has probably helped, don’t you think?”
Silfast’s jaw jumped in his cheek, but he didn’t comment, and dropped his gaze to Stella, who was currently clutching her sewing, her knuckles white. “Come, woman,” he said flatly. “You must eat. I have your meal waiting in our room.”
Stella quickly nodded, and leapt to her feet — a sudden movement that set her staggering sideways, and Silfast instantly caught her, his big hands spreading gentle against her rounded waist. “Ach, woman,” he murmured, his tone softer than before. “Mayhap we shall again rest, also.”
Stella nodded again, angling an uneasy glance toward Gwyn as Silfast steered her away — but then she pulled back, biting her lip. “Um, Silfast,” she said, her voice thready, “Gwyn invited me to come see the B—, er, Joarr’s garden. Or perhaps even to help work in it, a little. What do you think?”
Silfast’s huge body froze in place, his dark eyes snapping back toward Joarr, his rage all too visible on his face — but Gwyn could see his effort to clear his expression, the purpose in his hand stroking Stella’s back. “I think this is hard work, in the hot sun,” he said flatly. “You are yet so weary, woman. You ought to rest, not fritter about in foolishgardens.”
“But — Gwyn thinks it might be healthy for our son,” Stella said, very quickly, as though seeking to finish before she lost her courage. “And good for — for me. And she’s a trained midwife, so she should know, shouldn’t she? And we can have Efterar monitor our son’s health after, right? It might be — nice. Just to — try.”
She winced as she spoke, her gaze dropping, and even as Silfast shot Joarr another accusing look, his hand kept stroking her back, his mouth tight. “Ach, if this is what you wish,” he said, “then this is what shall be done.”
Stella twitched a shaky, relieved-looking nod, and gave Gwyn a wavering, apologetic smile. “How about tomorrow morning, then?” she asked. “If you’re still sure, Gwyn, that is?”
