But she stopped there, frowning up at the door, to where another tall, narrow-eyed orc was striding in. It was —Killik?Ulfarr’sfriend?
“What areyoudoing here?” Rosa asked, eyeing Killik with undisguised suspicion. “Youdorealize this is a library, right?”
Killik had already dropped his lean body down into the last empty chair at the table, his arms crossing over his bare chest. “No, is it?” he replied coolly. “I have become lost, then, for I thought this was the Skai arena.”
Beside him, Jule loudly coughed, and gave him an apologetic smile. “We thought we should have some Skai involvement as well,” she said, “and Killik was kind enough to volunteer. Thank you, Killik.”
Wait, he’d really volunteered, to be on Geva’seducational committee? And across the table, Rosa was looking just as flummoxed as Geva felt, her mouth pursing. “Aren’t you the one who told Simon reading is a waste of time?” she demanded. “Time that could be better spent sparring, or sharpening your weapons?”
Rosa accompanied this with a pointed glance toward Killik’s hair, which was bound in a messy knot on top of his head — and which, Geva now noticed, had two gleaming crossedknivesstabbed into it.
“Ach, and this was truth,” Killik said, as he settled further into his chair, and propped his booted foot on the edge of the table. “Thus, who better to tell you how to teach small, squirmy Skai, without losing them all to the arena on this first day?”
It was a fair point, Geva could admit, and even Rosa wasn’t arguing it, her disgruntled gaze now fixed to Killik’s boot on the table. While Jule again loudly cleared her throat, and smiled at the table’s assembled occupants. “Yes, so thank you all for joining us,” she said. “As you’re probably all aware, we’ve been wanting to do better by our orclings, and make this mountain a safer, more nurturing place to raise them. And since Geva has worked quite extensively as an educator, we’re hoping that she can guide us in accomplishing this. Any opposed?”
No one immediately argued, but Kalfr was shifting uneasily in his chair, and giving Geva an apologetic grimace. “I do not mean any insult,” he said, tentative, “but we have only just met our new sister, ach? How can we be sure she is a safe human — the best human — to guide and care for our sons?”
It was another fair question, even if it was at Geva’s expense, but before she could attempt an answer, Jule gave a regretful smile, and a wave of her hand toward Killik. Who in turn sighed, rolled his eyes, and then stretched out further in his chair.
“Geva Okoro was birthed in Wolfen, thirty years past, to Ginika Okoro and Chijioke Equiano, well-liked ambassadors from Ezira to Wolfen,” he said, in a bored-sounding voice. “She studied for many years at the Wolfen Ladies’ School for Language and Decorum, where she finished first among her peers. Her tutors wrote that she is clever, forthright, and kind, and well suited to a political appointment, to follow in the role of her sires.”
Geva’s breath was suddenly choking in her throat, her eyes frozen, or perhaps even pleading, on Killik’s face. And though his glance at her was almost too brief to catch, she could see a shift in his body, a barely visible shrug of his shoulder.
“After her mother and father’s passing, she moved south, and worked for a family in Tlaxca for four summers,” Killik continued, his voice still blandly distant. “There, she taught first three, then four younglings, with lessons in three tongues, mathematics, music, drawing, and dance. Before her, no other teacher had stayed there for longer than half a year, and whilst these younglings were not well inclined to learn, three of them yet wept after leaving her.”
Geva couldn’t stop staring at Killik, her mouth dropped open, her heartbeat thundering in her chest. How — how the hell had he learned all this? And three of the Fitzwald children had wept over her? Cecily she could well believe, but —three?!
Killik glanced over toward her again, his eyes entirely unrepentant. “It is the work of the Skai, to learn such things,” he said. “We do our work well, ach?”
Hiswork. So wait, he was essentially admitting — confessing — that hehadbeen spying on her? And obviously on Rathgarr, too? Together with Ulfarr, no doubt?!
“Thank you, Killik,” Jule was saying, with a half-smile, half-grimace toward Geva. “We appreciate the Skai’s efforts in keeping us safe. Now, any other questions about Geva’s qualifications? Or Geva, is there anything you’d like to add?”
Geva’s thoughts were still wildly spinning, her clammy fingers twisting her wedding-ring beneath the table, but she gulped for air, fought for focus. Anything she wanted to add, about this. About her work. Her chosen profession, despite all — that.
“Well,” she managed, squaring her shoulders, casting her eyes around the table. “I’m happy to offer what skills I have, and help to teach this mountain’s orclings to the best of my ability. However” — she drew in another bracing breath — “I also can’t do it alone. Children need support and guidance and role models beyond just their teachers. They need a community of involved, invested people — especially parents and consistent caretakers — who are committed to helping them, and doing their best for them. If I decide to step back in three weeks, they still need to be taken care of.”
Her heart was still thundering, her mouth twisting at even the thought of those three weeks — but thankfully, no one seemed to notice, and she felt her determination settling again, her breath exhaling. Another way. Something new.
“I also obviously have no experience teaching orc children,” she continued. “But I believe very strongly that their education ought to reflect their own culture, and not just that of the world around them. I greatly benefited from learning my own family’s history and customs, and I have no interest in implementing a curriculum that separates orcs from their own. And to start” — her thoughts flicked back to that conversation with Rathgarr — “I’d like to suggest instruction in orc art, music, metalworking, and oral history. As well as training in self-defense.”
There was still no protesting from the table — if anything, Jule was wearing a self-satisfied smile, and even Killik was jerking a curt nod. Although, Rosa and Tristan were exchanging uncertain-looking glances, and finally Rosa drew in a breath, and smoothed out the fresh sheet of paper she’d set before her.
“We absolutely respect that, of course,” she said firmly. “However, we Ka-esh are very united in the belief that orcs need to learn to read, write, and speak common-tongue, as well as Aelakesh, and that instruction needs to occur on a daily basis. It’s a crucial element of being able to connect to the women they’re seeking to mate with, the women they need to birth and help raise their sons. It’s vital to the verysurvivalof this species. And even if orcs don’t learn human cultures as their own” — she fixed her glinting gaze on Killik — “you still ought to learn about them. Knowledge is power. Knowledge iseverything.”
But Killik only rolled his eyes again, and lounged even more languorously in his chair. “You shall not see the Skai stand against this,” he replied, toward where he was picking at his claw. “We now accept that this helps with our work, and our sons. But” — he glanced up to frown darkly at Rosa — “this is only together with orc ways, as our wise Ash-Kai sister says. And for Skai, this is not only learning how to fight, but how to watch, and listen, and staysilent.”
Rosa loudly sniffed, clearly taking this as the insult it was intended to be, while beside Killik, Kalfr leaned forward a little, his claws thoughtfully drumming on the table. “The Bautul should endorse all this, I ken,” he said. “But young orcs also ought to learn to hunt, and make skins and furs, and grow food for our kin.”
Beside him, Varinn was nodding, his eyes thoughtful. “And we cannot forget scenting, and tending to our home,” he said. “These are oft seen as only Grisk gifts, but they ought to be learnt by all the clans.”
“Yes, indeed,” said Rosa, who was still eyeing Killik with obvious dislike. “And from the Ka-esh side, we’d add drafting, mathematics, and basic medical skills. So if anything happens to us, you won’t alldieof completely preventable infections, while the mountain crumbles to dust around you!”
Killik actually snarled at that, prompting Jule to bark a surprisingly sharp growl of her own, her hand snapping out between them. “And on the Ash-Kai side,” she loudly interjected, “I know we’d also welcome training in strategy, logic, and current affairs. Perhaps we need a list, Rosa?”
“Ooooh, yes, of course!” Rosa replied, apparently forgetting her ire, in favour of drawing a neat-looking table on her paper. “And a schedule. What do we say to starting each day with reading and writing, followed by an alternating rotation of each clan’s priorities, with a different guest on each day? Starting with Ka-esh, perhaps?”
“With Skai,” Killik pointedly countered, but it sounded halfhearted, and he angled a sharp glance toward Geva. “Or, mayhap the trained teacher ought to decide this? There may be much to ponder we have not yet thought of?”
