He’d said this with a too-casual glance over toward Ulfarr, who was now walking on Geva’s other side, and frowning straight ahead. “No,” he said flatly. “But neither shall I ever gain one, now that I have been judged for my past sins. I cannot beget sons, ach?”
On Geva’s other side, Killik snorted, though Geva couldn’t help noticing his eyes were very intent on Ulfarr’s face. “And so?” he asked. “Not all women wish for this. And ach, you have had your troubles with women, but I ken you should yet welcome a tight womb to plough, and soft cuddles at nights. And mayhap a mother for Sune, also.”
Ulfarr didn’t reply, only looking straight ahead toward where Sune was cheerfully signing back and forth with Timo and Trygve. And it occurred to Geva, not for the first time, that Ulfarr truly did care about Sune — and maybe even about Rathgarr, too. Because what had he said, just that morning?If Rathgarr was wise, he would leave this, and welcome the gifts he has.
“Ulfarr,” she said now, tentatively, “you didn’t actuallywantRathgarr to find the gold, did you?”
Ulfarr visibly exhaled, his frown deepening. “Ach, no,” he said, his voice grim. “That hoard was tainted from the start, and ought to have died with their scheming mother. And Kesst…”
His voice trailed off, his huge shoulders rising and falling, his jaw flexing in his cheek. “Rathgarr was right to say that I failed his brother,” he said heavily. “I did not spare the time nor the patience to follow all Kesst needed, or all he kept hidden. But” — he sighed again, his eyes fixed back to Sune — “now Skai-kesh has charged me to make amends, not only for this, but for all my past sins. And I seek to obey. I seek to regain my place as a true Skai son.”
Oh. Skai-kesh was the Skai clan’s patron god, Geva now knew, and her sidelong glance over at Killik found him grinning again, with easy satisfaction on his mouth. “And thus, Ulfarr has been curst to tend not one, not two, butthreestubborn, wayward Ash-Kai,” he said cheerfully. “Compared to all this, Sune is a delight, ach?”
Ulfarr grunted his ready agreement, leaving Geva to stare open-mouthed between them, because wait, were they includingherin this three-Ash-Kai curse?! “Excuse me,” she said, as haughtily as she could, “but how haveIbeen any trouble?”
In return, Killik rolled his eyes, and waved at the orclings up ahead. “You show us for many days how well you play-act,” he said, “and then you turn about and seek to spend your days with our orclings? I ken the captain and his mate thought this a clever Ash-Kai scheme, but we Skai should not leave our sons at risk thus. Do you ken Iwishedto be part of thisOrc Mountain Educational Congress, and bossed about by haughty chattering Ka-esh?”
Oh. And even as Geva’s disbelief swelled — Killik had done all that to spy on her, too? — she felt her appreciation rising, a small smile curving on her mouth. “It was very responsible for you to look out for them like that,” she said. “And honestly, you’re really very good at it, and the orclings love you. I hope that after this, maybe you’ll consider continuing with it? Maybe even teach some Skai tales, too? You’re quite the storyteller, you know.”
But to her vague surprise, Killik returned this with a dark, disapproving scowl. “I ken your scheming Ash-Kai ways, woman,” he said flatly. “Should you truly wish for my help, you shall not flatter me with empty words. You shall instead cease to give me grief, and be an easy travel-mate, with no fussing or moaning. And, mayhap” — his frown slightly faded, his head tilting — “when your mate comes after you begging, you shall make him sweat. And suffer. And weep. This shall offer some small reward for all our pain, I ken.”
Geva was smiling now despite herself, even as she shook her head. “Rathgarr isn’t going to come begging,” she said, with a sigh. “And he’s not my mate.”
But Killik rolled his eyes again, and then cast an exasperated frown down Geva’s form. “Ach, and this is why you yet wear his clothes,” he snapped. “And his gold in your hair. And hiswedding-ring.”
Wait. One of Geva’s hands had fluttered up to her hair — to where it was indeed still studded with Rathgarr’s beads — while her other hand snapped out before her eyes, her fingers spread wide. And yes, damn it, she’d somehow completely forgotten about her ring — his ring — still there on her finger, its red ruby sparkling and shimmering in the bright sunlight.
“It’s not — a wedding-ring,” she made herself say, though it sounded rather choked. “It was just…”
“A ring he chose for you?” Killik drawled. “A ring he placed upon you, as proof of your bond? A ring you did not even think to leave behind? Ach, woman, I thought you Ash-Kai are meant to be clever.”
Oh. It left a strange, shifting sensation in Geva’s gut, and maybe — maybe even something abominably like hope. Something that kept whispering and simmering, even as she sought to quash it, to shove it firmly away. Rathgarr didn’t care about her. Rathgarr cared about his gold. And even if by some miracle he did follow her, or beg for forgiveness, she would never be able to trust him again, right? She would never again be sure that he didn’t hold secret suspicions about her. Especially since he’d already held so much from her, hidden so much, lied so much.
But that quiet, nagging question still made the rest of the day more tolerable, somehow. Made it easier to chatter and laugh with the orclings, to tramp through the forest alongside them, to ask questions as they alternately followed her and Rathgarr’s scent, and hunted for game, and foraged for roots and mushrooms. And upon the orclings’ enthusiastic request, she even found herself telling them tales as they walked, one after another. Sinking into the familiar comfort of the porcupine, the reckless roaming rat, the seven-headed spirit, the maiden who married the skull.
By the time they stopped for the night, Geva’s voice was hoarse, and she was truly exhausted — so much that the prospect of sleeping on a hard cave floor with a dozen orcs wasn’t nearly as daunting as it should have been. And she even slept the whole night through, despite Ulfarr’s loud snoring, and the fact that she’d somehow collected all three of the younger Grisk orclings, curled up against her in their little cloaks.
It turned out that she wasn’t the only one — Thrain, Timo, and Trygve all seemed to be piled atop Varinn, and both Sune and Killik were using Ulfarr as a pillow. While the rest of them were a haphazard mass of hair and furs and limbs, though Geva could just make out a wistful-looking Abjorn, his arms folded behind his head, his eyes fixed on the rough-cut ceiling above.
Of course, the almost-peaceful silence was soon shattered by wakeful, well-rested orclings, full of energy and enthusiasm for the day. And after a morning lesson in hunting — in which Geva was subjected to the alarming sight of all her adorable orclings eagerly gobbling up raw venison — they were on their way again, now travelling mostly off the road, well out of sight of any humans.
It certainly made for a slower, more exhausting day, and more than once, Geva found herself longing for Rathgarr’s style of travelling — on the road, sleeping in comfortable inns, enjoying hot meals and baths. But she was determined to be a good travel-mate, damn it, and once again she kept her attention on the orclings, on making their adventure as fun and educational as she possibly could.
They had visitors late that afternoon — Simon and Maria, Joarr and Gwyn, and all the young Grisks’ fathers — and spent a delightful evening of tales and laughter around a large, blazing bonfire. And while Geva desperately wanted to ask after Rathgarr, and Kesst, and the treasure, she again made herself focus on the orclings, on being a good teacher, a good travel-mate. On savouring every moment of this while she could, until it was gone, forever.
She again wept saying goodbye to the younger orcs the next morning, but at least it was a proper farewell this time, with a chance to speak to each of them in turn. And afterwards, the day’s travels did go faster, with a few deeper conversations, too. She learned that Sune’s blood-father was still alive, but that he was no longer able to care for Sune, due to wounds that sounded much like the ones Rathgarr’s father had suffered. She also learned that Timo’s father had died when he was young, but he’d been mostly raised by Trygve’s father Eyarl, with support from a variety of other Grisk, especially Varinn.
And most astonishing of all, late that night around the fire, she learned thatKalfrhad a son. A four-year-old son named Svein, who lived alone with his mother about a day’s journey east of Orc Mountain.
“And… do you see Svein often?” Geva ventured, toward where Kalfr was staring blankly into the guttering fire, his face shrouded in shadow. “Have you brought him to the mountain, to meet the rest of your clan?”
Kalfr shook his head, and Geva could see his throat convulsing, his eyes dropping to his clawed hands. “No,” he said. “I… did not well handle this, when first we met, and now she loathes and fears me, and will not allow me to speak to him. I leave them food and goods when I can, but beyond this, I seek to honour her wishes.”
Across the fire, Sune had begun signing something, with sharp disapproval in his eyes, while Timo fervently nodded beside him. But on his other side, Ulfarr huffed a heavy sigh, and shook his head. “It is not this easy,” he said flatly. “Kidnapping is one of the terms of this peace-treaty with the humans. Were Kalfr to do this, he should then break the treaty, against the wishes of all five clans, and we should be bound to return the son to his mother. This would also cause great distress to the son, ach?”
It was without question a valid point, but Geva couldn’t stop studying Kalfr’s blank, miserable face. “Do you think she might reconsider,” she ventured, “if perhaps we approached her? If we explained in detail what we’re offering for schooling, and how it would benefit her son to attend? Surely she would want Svein to be educated, if nothing else?”
But Kalfr gave a grim shake of his head, a sad little smile. “But you are leaving us, sister,” he said, quiet. “And she shall not speak to an orc, or even allow one into her house. Let alone to think of us teachingherson.”
