There was another hard, jolting spasm behind her, perhaps in response to the implication that Rathgarr would have disappeared, for the right price — but Geva was still too caught to care. “But today, after you left that meeting,” she continued, “Grimarr looked at Drafli. As if he thoughtheknew something about it. As if… theSkaiknew.”
Her thoughts had flashed back to Ulfarr and Killik in the bath, in the forest, and then to the way Rathgarr had spoken of the Skai.It is all to my gain, if the Skai — and most of all Ulfarr — see me as an addled, lovestruck fool, and not as a true threat. I shall never let the Skai or their foul usurper captain see what I truly think of them…
Geva’s breaths had gone just as shallow as Rathgarr’s, now, her body just as stiff. “And you just said Skai don’t have gold, right?” she whispered, into the darkness. “So what did they do? What did they threaten you with? What kind of threat has enough power to make you —”
But there was a sudden, frantic flailing behind her, a hard clap of a hand to her mouth. And Rathgarr’s breath was shuddering in her ear, his body heaving, as though he couldn’t find enough air.
“Please,” he gasped. “Please, do not. I swore — a vow, upon this. To thedeath.”
A vow, to thedeath. Those horrifying words suddenly ringing and echoing between them, vibrating, menacing.To the death.
And both Geva’s hands were trembling on his, pulling it down from her face. “But — you said they swore your safety, coming here,” she whispered. “And you… swore mine. So…”
The noise from Rathgarr behind her sounded almost like a sob, like something was choking his throat. And it was choking Geva, too, the cold, bitter horror of it clamping tight and close and sickening.
“They threatened to hurtKesst?” she whispered. “That’s how they made you leave?”
And even as she spoke it, she realized perhaps she’d already known. That it was the only way it made sense. The only way Rathgarr would have left, or stayed away so long. The only way he wouldn’t have sent a single message, or asked a single question, or spoken a single name. A vow, to the death.
“I’m so sorry, Rathgarr,” she breathed, blinking into the darkness, curling her fingers around his wrist. “I’m so, so sorry.”
But there was only more silence, more empty, echoing bleakness, broken finally by a hard, convulsive swallow behind her. “Would you, mayhap,” he choked, “tell me a tale. The porcupine?”
And somehow, Geva swallowed too, and fervently nodded, clutching tighter at his hand. And then she spoke, and spoke, and spoke, until her voice was raw, and Rathgarr’s gasping breaths finally steadied, and faded into sleep.
28
Despite Geva’s exhaustion, it took far too long to fall asleep, to stop thinking about the horror in what Rathgarr had told her.
He’d been run out of his home. He’d been forced to abandon his brother, his only family. He’d gone sixteenyearswithout any news, without any contact, without even using his own damned name.
And gods, no wonder he hadn’t wanted to come back here. No wonder he’d wanted to pretend as though he was harmless, andsettled. And how he must have agonized over this, over the danger of doing this, the possibility of slipping up, the risk not to his own life, but toKesst’s.
Even when Geva finally slept, it was fitful and fleeting, full of dreams of her own parents, her own grief. And all too soon — she jerked awake with a start — there was a faint light from the crack in the ceiling, and Rathgarr was shifting behind her, and easing out of the bed. Striding away toward the wardrobe, and Geva felt suddenly, inexplicably lost without his warmth, his solid strength behind her.
“So do you think Kesst is still in danger?” her scratchy voice asked, toward where he’d already opened the wardrobe, yanking a pair of trousers up over his bare arse. “Do you think the threat against him is still in effect?”
Rathgarr’s shoulders sagged, his hand running through his hair. “I do not know,” he said, his voice cracking. “And mayhap it is the height of selfish foolishness for me to now return here, and bring such risk to him. But” — he gave a helpless-looking wave — “to hear that he had sought me out, and sent for me, after so long, this was —”
He didn’t finish, but Geva pushed to sit up in the bed, and nodded at his back. “I think it was the right choice,” she said quietly. “Kesst deserves to know the truth, and you deserve to be free again. It’s not fair for either of you to live like this, estranged from your only family for reasons you can’t even talk about. You’re” — she had to take a breath — “you’re soluckyto still have family, Rathgarr. I would doanythingto have mine back again.”
Rathgarr’s shoulders sagged even more, his eyes angling her a glance that might have been knowing, or sad. Because maybe — maybe that was exactly what she was doing here, wasn’t it? Selling herself to him, sacrificing herself, maybe not just for survival… but for the hope of ahome.
You will do aught you are asked, for a bit of gold.
“And besides,” Geva quickly added, over the misery catching in her throat, “Kesst is an adult now, and no doubt he’s very capable of taking care of himself. If nothing else, surelyEfterarcan help protect him, right? I mean” — she grimaced at where Rathgarr was now pulling on a tunic — “if he can prevent me from having children without eventouchingme, what else —”
But at that, Rathgarr whirled around, the tunic hanging crooked and forgotten over his shoulders. “What?” he demanded. “You mean to say Efterar…didthis, for you?”
Geva swallowed, but attempted a careless shrug. “Er, yes?” she replied. “I know how strongly you feel about children, so I just — wanted to make sure. Just in case.”
Rathgarr was still gaping at her, his eyes flaring with something she couldn’t quite identify. “But —you,” he said, his voice hard. “Doyounot want children? A way to make your own family again, once this is done, in three weeks’ time?”
Wait. In three weeks? And now Geva was the one staring, her hands clutching at the fur. “I thought…” she began, her voice hollow. “I thought we agreed on a month? Or… one moon, you said?”
Rathgarr’s eyes shifted downwards, his focus now very intent on straightening and tucking in his tunic. “Ach, one moon,” he said, his tone unreadable. “We have now been here two days, and before this, we spent five days in travels, ach? So this leaves twenty-one days left.”
Oh. That was… short. Less than Geva had thought. Three weeks, before she’d be making that trip across the sea. Alone.
