With that, he threw up his hands, and stalked off down the hallway, irritably beckoning for them to follow. And though Geva meekly obeyed, she couldn’t help a covert glance toward Rathgarr behind her. Finding him giving an odd little smile back toward her, his hand gently gripping at her arse.
“You were to make me weep?” he asked, under his breath. “And beg?”
“Ach, later, Ash-Kai,” Killik cut in, a little too loudly, as he jerked his head toward the door. “For we have a small… setback, first.”
A setback? Geva blinked at Killik, and then at Rathgarr, her mirth rapidly fading, twisting into a sharp, sudden fear. A setback. Like — one of the servants? Or had the Fitzwalds returned? Damn it, had the others been caught? Compromised? Endangered?!
But Killik was already shoving open the side door, striding blithely out into the dark night beyond. And Geva drew closer to Rathgarr’s solid strength as she followed Killik outside, to where Ulfarr was already waiting, together with Timo and Trygve and Sune, and…
A small, weeping figure, dressed in tattered, muddy clothes. A figure who glanced up, gasped aloud, and then rushed forward, straight into Geva’s waiting arms.
It was — Cecily.
51
Cecily was… here? Alone?
“Miss Gee!” Cecily was gulping, between hoarse, hiccoughing sobs, as her small arms clamped tightly around Geva’s waist. “You’re here! You’re alive! But — there are orcs! So many orcs! We’redoomed!”
Geva’s eyes were already blinking hard, and she hugged Cecily as tight as she dared, swaying her back and forth. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re all right,” she replied, though her own voice was choked, too. “The orcs won’t hurt you. You’re safe. I promise.”
She could feel Cecily’s little body slightly sagging against her, though she was still gulping for breaths, and darting a petrified glance over her shoulder. Toward where Ulfarr was giving an admittedly terrifying frown, while Timo, Trygve, and Sune all looked just as alarmed as Cecily did, Timo with distinctly watery eyes. In contrast to Killik, who was now leaning against the nearby house and observing all this with a mild curiosity, and Rathgarr, who was watching with his head tilted, his eyes shifting with genuine concern.
“The orcs are here with me, sweetheart,” Geva continued, stroking at Cecily’s hair with as much reassurance as she could muster. “They’re — my friends. Here, why don’t I introduce you?”
Cecily gulped and sniffled, but warily turned a little toward them, even as she kept clinging to Geva’s waist. So Geva made a quick round of introductions, which did seem to help, especially when Timo offered Cecily a wavering smile, and a fluid little bow. “We should never harm you, Miss Cecily,” he said. “Or Miss Gee, either. She is our new teacher, you ken, and we would never wish to lose her.”
Geva could feel Cecily’s quiver of surprise at that, and then she sniffed again, wiping at her eyes. “Miss Gee is my teacher, too,” she whispered, with an uncertain glance up toward her. “Or… she was. Are you… leaving, Miss Gee?”
Geva had to swallow down the lump in her throat, but she made herself nod. “I’m so sorry, Cecily,” she whispered, as she drew her close again. “After you left, I was offered a new job, and” — she cast a wobbly smile up at Rathgarr — “I fell in love with it, and with Rathgarr. And I actually returned here mostly to say goodbye to you, sweetheart, because I know I’ll miss you so, so much.”
But Cecily gulped another choked sob, and she shook her head, whipping her tattered little braid back and forth. “Oh no,” she gasped, as tears streaked down her cheeks. “Oh, I should have known, of course you want to leave, my aunt and uncle are soawful. When we were in the city, I accidentally offended one of their guests on the very first day, so my aunt locked me in the cellar every time they had company, and then they forgot about me down there, and —”
She broke off into more gasping, desperate sobs, her face now buried into Geva’s shoulder. And Geva found herself gradually digesting all that, blinking down at Cecily’s messy little head — which looked caked with mud — and then around at the otherwise silent darkness. At where there was no sign of the Fitzwalds, or a horse and carriage, or… anyone?
“Cecily,” she said thickly, “did you… run here alone? All the way from the city?”
Cecily fervently nodded, her face still in Geva’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry. I know I should have stayed. I know it was dangerous. But I couldn’t bear it there any longer, Miss Gee, Icouldn’t.”
Oh. Oh, gods. And the horrible Fitzwalds had locked her in acellar? And why hadn’t they come after her? Surely they should have been deeply concerned, and returned home at once — or at least sent word to the house for the servants to keep an eye out, in case she might return?
“How… how long were you travelling, sweetheart?” Geva whispered. “And… do any of them know you’re here? Your aunt and uncle? The servants?”
Cecily furiously shook her head, and drew back to stare up at Geva with weeping, pleading eyes. “Please don’t tell anyone,” she gulped. “Please. The servants have barely been here anyway. And I left the city more than a week ago, I was so worried someone would catch up to me, because I just left the way we came, but” — she gulped again, wiped at her face with a grubby hand — “they haven’t.”
Gods above. Geva’s fury was crackling now, her eyes glancing helplessly toward Rathgarr. Toward where he was looking just as angry as she felt, his gaze sweeping up and down Cecily’s small, weeping form.
“Here, little one,” he said, his voice deceptively calm, as he carefully held out something toward her — a golden, fresh-looking bun. “You look half-starved. You ought to eat.”
Cecily was still eyeing Rathgarr with fearful eyes, but then she quickly snatched the bun from his hand, and began to eat. And gods, she did look starved, and neglected, and lost, and perhaps the rest of the orcs thought so, too. At least, Ulfarr was frowning with vicious-looking disapproval, and Timo’s eyes were still far too bright.
“We found her hiding in the barn,” Timo told Geva, very quiet. “We ken she was eating the animals’ food.”
Geva didn’t think her rage could have surged any higher, and thankfully Rathgarr handed over another bun, since Cecily had already polished off the first one. “It is not safe for you to stay here alone thus, little one,” he firmly told her. “I ken you ought to come with us for now, so we can be sure you are cared for.”
Wait. Really? Geva’s heart leapt, her eyes searching Rathgarr’s set face, but as he glanced up toward her, his expression was flinty, stubborn, set. “We cannot leave her thus,” he said flatly. “I shall not allow it. She was locked in a cellar? What sort of caretaker does this?”
There was a beat of silence, and then Timo fervently nodded, and came a step closer. “Sune and I both have caretakers also,” he said to Cecily, his voice soft, as he gestured between them. “But ours have never locked us anywhere, and always feed us and tend to us. Ach, just today, Sune wished to eat a fish, so Ulfarr half-drowned himself in the river, just to catch one for him! Skai are rubbish swimmers, ach?”
