Abjorn gave a wretched little smile too, though he was bobbing even faster on his feet. “Then why,” he said, sounding almost plaintive, “did he not come to say hello? Or ask where I had gone?”
Rathgarr kept giving Abjorn that fond smile, along with a bracing little shake to his shoulder. “Ach, well, he told me you did not say goodbye, or even tell him you meant to leave,” he said. “So mayhap he thought you did not wish to see him.”
Abjorn’s mouth thinned, his eyes now fixed intently on the wall behind Rathgarr’s head. “Oh,” he replied, his voice small. And then he just kept standing there, staring at the wall, until Rathgarr gave his shoulder another little shake.
“Should you wish me to call Sigarr for you, then?” Rathgarr asked gently. “I ken he meant to wait nearby.”
Abjorn returned this with a brief, dismissive-looking shrug, and a careless flap of his hand. “Ach, no matter,” he said, with unconvincing casualness. “Only should you wish.”
Rathgarr studied Abjorn for another long moment, as if he might actually let this go, damn him — and without at all meaning to, Geva huffed a heavy sigh, and cleared her throat. “Well,Iwould like to see Sigarr,” she said pointedly. “If you could be so kind as to call him for me, Rathgarr?”
She didn’t miss the unmistakable flare of relief in Abjorn’s eyes, or the amused ruefulness in Rathgarr’s, but he accordingly shrugged, and strode to the nearby window. And after shoving the window open, he put a hand to his mouth, and gave a long, shrill whistle, loud enough that Geva had to cover her ears. But clearly it had worked, because only a few moments later, there were heavy footsteps outside the room’s door, and then Sigarr strode in, too.
He looked nearly as disheveled as Rathgarr had, his long black hair falling out from his braid, his grey trousers streaked with dirt and ash. And though he’d surely smelled Abjorn inside the room, he still halted upon catching sight of him, his big hand rubbing at his mouth before carefully shutting the door behind him.
“What is it, brother?” he said, his eyes very purposefully holding on Rathgarr, rather than Abjorn. “What do you need?”
For an instant, no one spoke — Abjorn was also very intently looking at the wall — and finally Geva sighed again. “Actually, Sigarr,” she said pointedly, “I think Abjorn has something to say to you.”
Abjorn’s eyes snapped very wide, his head giving an urgent little shake. “What?” he squeaked, his gaze darting between Sigarr and Geva. “You are mistaken, sister!Youwished to see him.Youcalled for him, not me. Ach?”
Geva gave Abjorn her most imperious glare, but he only shook his head again, and stumbled a little backwards. “I should not wish to see him,” he said thinly, “forhedoes not wish to seeme!”
Sigarr’s huge shoulders hunched, his brows furrowing close together. “No,kærasti,” he snapped, and then grimaced. “Youdid not wish to seeme. You left to run halfway across the realm, and did not speak one word to me of this! You did not ask me if I wished to come, and you did not even say farewell!”
Abjorn’s throat bobbed, and he attempted a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I was only in a hurry,” he said offhandedly. “I did not need coddling, or a stern speaking-to of how this would not be safe!”
Sigarr stared at Abjorn for a long moment, but then jerked a curt little nod, and spun toward the door again. But his hand was again rubbing at his mouth, his eyes squeezing shut, and suddenly Geva couldn’t bear another instant of it, another single word of these frankly ridiculous Ash-Kai secrets and lies.
“Wait, Sigarr,” she snapped, as she lurched to her feet, from where she’d still been sitting on the bed. “I actually do need something from you. Abjorn’s wild behaviour has been increasingly out of control lately, and very unsafe. I can’t help but feel that he needs to be put in his place, by a very firm hand. And” — she raised her brows at Sigarr — “since he’s yourkærasti, it seems to me that you’ve been gravely shirking your duty in this, hmmm?”
The room had snapped to utter, ringing silence, all three orcs now gaping at her, even Rathgarr. But then Sigarr’s stunned face very slowly turned toward Abjorn, who was suddenly looking very guilty — and then he twitched, and gave a loud, nervous little laugh.
“I… she knows not what she speaks of!” he said, his eyes wide on Sigarr’s, his voice very high-pitched. “We both ken how you are about sweet small Ka-esh, with all yourcareandcoddlingand tiresomesafety, ach?”
Sigarr still hadn’t moved, still staring at Abjorn like that, and Geva heard herself give a smug, satisfied little laugh. “Yes, precisely,” she interjected. “Which is exactly why Sigarr ought to be the one to handle you, hmmm? He ought to be very capable of meting out appropriate discipline, while taking proper precautions to ensure your overall wellbeing.”
There was still no movement from either Sigarr or Abjorn, only that blank empty staring — though if Geva wasn’t mistaken, there was a distinctive growing bulge at the front of Sigarr’s trousers, and perhaps a spot of increasing wetness at the front of Abjorn’s.
“And I, for one,” Geva flatly continued, “would be well pleased to avoid any future sightings of your bloody nose or black eyes, Abjorn, especially around the orclings — and I know Sigarr will readily oblige us in this. For example, rather than pounding you into this floor, he would likely do so into the bed, right, Sigarr?”
A very soft growl had hissed from Sigarr’s throat, his glinting eyes still very intent on Abjorn. On where Abjorn was still staring back, his breaths suddenly audible through his full, parted lips, as that stain of wetness kept spreading across the front of his trousers.
Sigarr had surely seen it too, or perhaps smelled it, his nostrils flaring — and then he jerked his head sideways, toward the bed. Saying,Go.
And this time, Abjorn didn’t pretend not to know what he meant. Instead, his gaze on Sigarr had gone almost defiant, as he swallowed, straightened his shoulders, and strode toward the bed.
But before he’d even reached it, Sigarr was there behind him, shoving him face-first down onto it. And Abjorn moaned, loud and betraying, as Sigarr found both his hands, and pinned them firmly down over his head.
“You deceitful littlewretch,” Sigarr gasped, low into Abjorn’s ear. “You wished for this, all this time? Fromme?!”
Abjorn was wildly squirming beneath him, his eyes rolling back. “Ach, you fool Ash-Kai,” he choked. “Can you not smell? Or follow a hint when you see one?”
Sigarr growled back and yanked at Abjorn’s trousers, revealing a brief glimpse of his muscled grey backside — and then he gave it a firm, forceful slap, the sound cracking through the small room. “What hints were these?!” he hissed, as Abjorn arched and moaned beneath him. “Youalwayssmell thus! Whilst reeking of a new Ka-esh every otherday!”
His hand slapped again, even harder this time, ringing in Geva’s ears — and at the sound, she suddenly jerked to awareness again, angling a wide, alarmed glance up toward Rathgarr beside her. Because wait, were they just going to keep standing here, andwatchingthis?!
But Rathgarr’s glance back toward her was again wryly amused, his brows meaningfully rising, clearly implying that this had all been Geva’s doing — and then he gave a pointed glance toward the adjoining room’s door, too. Toward where Cecily was still sleeping, damn it, and Geva realized that of course he was still listening, scenting, making sure she didn’t awaken. Being… a good caretaker. A good mate.
