But Grimarr didn’t even blink at this, his eyes steady on Geva, and on Rathgarr. “I knew naught of it,” he said, “until we spoke yesterday, and I understood that there must be more to this than we knew. Kesst and I are near in age, and I was too caught in my own trials at the time to follow all my father’s schemes. I ken I must have seen or scented the gold after all this, but I cannot recall. If it was in my father’s hoard” — he shrugged, and sighed — “it is gone. I am sorry.”
His eyes flicked to Kesst now, too, shifting as they held to his stark, staring face. “Had I known this, there is much I would have altered,” he said, on another heavy exhale. “You deserved far better from us, brother. Fromme.”
But before them, Kesst twitched, his hands flailing up into the air. “Oh, no you don’t, Grim,” he snapped, his voice wavering. “Don’t youdaretake this one on yourself, too. Other than Eft, you have done more for me than anyone else in this damned entiremountain!”
The words seemed to swing through the room, echoing and shuddering, striking without thought or care where they landed. Without caring that Rathgarr could hear them, Rathgarr who had loved Kesst, who’d fought and failed for Kesst, who’d lost everything, for Kesst. And Rathgarr, who felt like a rigid teetering stone beside Geva, like he was one breath, one more word, away from falling.
“Well, it seems to me,” Geva heard herself cut in, the words clipped and cold, “that there are multiple victims here, and that there ought to be a proper investigation into all this. In particular” — she lifted her chin, narrowing her eyes at Drafli — “around whodidknow, and who was responsible for enforcing and continuing this ongoing mess. Quite a few Skai, perhaps.”
Drafli was shaking his head, frowning back at her with deep dislike in his glittering eyes, and beside him, Simon cleared his throat, his gaze steady on Rathgarr’s. “We also did not know the full truth of this,” he said flatly. “And all the Skai Rathgarr have named are now dead. Many by our own hands, for their misdeeds.”
Oh. That stopped Geva short for an instant, but it was beside the point, damn it, and she drew in another breath, and lifted her chin. “Well, despite that,” she continued, her voice even harder, “it still seems very obvious that Rathgarr’s name ought to be cleared at once, and the record publicly set straight. And even if his father’s gold is gone forever, Rathgarr should be reinstated as one of his father’s heirs, in case any of it ever comes to light again. In case” — she felt her lip curling as her eyes swept across the room — “he canevermanage to move past all this suffering and devastation, and evenconsiderhaving sons of his own, after having essentially his first onestolenfrom him!”
The room had gone fully silent again, every eye in it firmly and perhaps warily on Geva — but she still didn’t care, because the only thing that mattered was Rathgarr. The way Rathgarr was still so rigid, still gone somewhere else, and gods only knew when he would return. And he didn’t deserve this, they didn’t deserve to see him like this, she was done, done,done.
“And I think that’s enough of this for today, thank you,” she told the room at large, as she turned and bodily steered Rathgarr around, toward the door. Not sparing them another single look, not one, until —
“Bye-bye,” said a small voice behind them, and when Geva spun around again, she found Tengil looking at her from his father’s lap, his head tilted, his eyes very grave.
And Geva was blinking hard, her throat swallowing, her mouth attempting some broken travesty of a smile. “Bye-bye,” she said, with a shaky little wave. “We’ll see you again soon.”
And with that, she lifted her chin and stalked out the door, dragging Rathgarr’s staggering body close behind her.
29
Geva stalked down the corridor without thought, without intention. Just needing to get Rathgarr out of there, away from there, from all those appalling memories and secrets and lies.
His own people had destroyed his life. They’d stolen his rightful inheritance. And even if the stolen inheritance was another point that Rathgarr had surely known, and could surely have mentioned, Geva’s indignation was still surging far too strong to dwell on it. Gods, no wonder he was so strange about gold. No wonder he was so strange aboutsons.
And — Geva shot a helpless look backwards, toward where he was dragging behind her, his eyes gazing blankly ahead — no wonder he was like this sometimes. Like the darkness was consuming all his thoughts, all his awareness, and leaving room for nothing else.
And now that she’d hesitated, Rathgarr had stopped too, just staring at the wall. His body so hard and stiff again, as if perhaps the darkness had snatched away even his ability to walk, or speak. And this time, when Geva tugged on his arm, he didn’t move, just kept standing, staring, silent and blank and empty.
She shot a helpless glance back down the corridor, where the common-room’s entrance was still just in view, where the rest of them might walk out and see him like this at any moment. And suddenly she couldn’t stand even the thought of it, and after frantically searching the corridor around them, she powerfully shoved Rathgarr sideways, into what she hoped was an empty room.
Thank the gods, it was indeed empty, the dim lamplight from the corridor showing only bare stone walls, and a few low benches pushed close against them. So Geva dragged Rathgarr further inside, well out of view of the door. And thankfully he didn’t resist this time, and followed her into the darkness, where he then just stood, gazing at nothing, lost.
And blinking at him, Geva’s thoughts were lurching back to that room, to how he’d described his father.Not himself. Not there, in his mind. Lost.
“Rathgarr,” she ventured, into the uneasy, eerie silence. “Can you hear me? Are you all right?”
His big body didn’t move, his eyes still staring unseeing toward the wall, and Geva felt a twinge of panic, clamping in her chest. “Rathgarr,” she said. “It’s all right. You’re all right. You’re safe.”
But there was still no response, no recognition that she’d even spoken — and Geva tried again, louder this time. “Rathgarr. You’re all right. You’resafe. Can you hear me?”
Still nothing, not even a flicker in his eyes, and the panic was surging higher, escaping in Geva’s fluttering hands, her short, shallow breaths. “Rathgarr, come back to me,” she said, pleaded, at his empty eyes. “You’re fine. We’re fine. You’re working through this. One step at a time.Please.”
Her trembling hands had settled to his shoulders, squeezing against their rigid strength — and in return, she could feel just the faintest shudder, wavering back through her fingers. And wait, wait, when he’d been like this before, touching had helped, hadn’t it? And it had even helped back in that meeting, right?
So Geva kept her hands to his shoulders, stroking them up and down as firmly as she could. Again feeling them shudder back against her, so she deepened her strokes, made them longer, smoother. Moving lower, down his muscled arms and back up again, and then even higher, over his broad collarbones, up to his bare neck.
At the first touch of skin to bare skin, something shifted in his eyes — so Geva kept stroking there, tracing her fingers against the strength of his neck, the hard line of his jaw. Just touching him without thinking, wherever her hands wanted to go, while her gaze stayed fixed to his face, to that hint of awareness behind his eyes. To the way his head had perhaps tilted, very slightly, into her touch.
Right, then. Right. Geva’s thoughts were spinning now, her head fervently nodding — and then, in a burst of bravado, she reached down, yanked out Rathgarr’s tucked-in tunic from his trousers, and slipped both hands beneath. Sliding them up his soft bare belly, her fingers spreading wide against the warm silken smoothness of his skin.
And yes, yes, that was working even better, his body twitching a little more into her touch, leaning closer. His eyes still shifting — perhaps even beginning to refocus again — as Geva drew up more courage, and slid her hands around to his bare back beneath the tunic. Stroking up and down, and then even slipping down further, into his trousers, over the hard, muscled curve of his bare arse.
He definitely jerked at that, his breath hitching, so Geva kept going, even harder and bolder than before. Clutching both hands to his arse now, and then his hips, and…
