Page 20 of The Physician's Barbarian
“Be kind,” I snapped. “He’s trying. You should be ashamed of yourself for judging him.”
Matthew hiccuped, his eyes wide as he hugged Einar a little tighter. Protecting me from the wild man who looked furious at my assumption.
“I do not judge my bondmate,” he hissed, glaring at me so hard, I felt lucky I wasn’t within arm’s reach of him. He looked ready to strangle me. “I am angry he is forcing himself to speak when he is uncomfortable because you are unwilling to wait until we return to speak with your protector. He is not your translator. Learn the language or hold your tongue.”
Godr moved his horse between us, speaking in low tones to Einar while keeping me out of Einar’s sight. His actions reminded me again what a fool I’d been for assuming the worst. He was sweet. I never should have thought so poorly of him.
“I just want him to know he didn’t do anything wrong,” I interrupted, moving enough to see around Godr. “He blamed himself for what happened, but it was all on me. I don’t want him thinking he’s responsible for any of it.”
Einar didn’t seem interested in translating for me, but another poke in the side from Matthew forced his hand. He grumbled something to Godr, hopefully a direct translation and not his interpretation of it. Matthew looked curious, but not like he’d heard something odd from his barbarian, so I let it go. I’d wait until we returned to have a better conversation with Godr.
Godr turned to look at me after listening to Einar, his expression cautious and still a little sad. It hurt me to see him like that. It was going to take a lot more than a couple words to make it up to him.
Fourteen
GODR
We traveled back to the clan more sedately than when we’d left. I’d been unsurprised that someone followed me, but I’d expected Rath or maybe Drin, who had been nearby and often reassured me when I was upset. The last person I expected was Ambrose. Especially after what Finn said he thought of me. To see the brave tribute not only chasing me but riding on the back of Rhoddgorr, as well, nearly unseated me, my shock was so great. Rhoddgorr wasn’t friendly with anyone. And yet he chose to allow Ambrose to ride him?
I studied the stallion as we trotted back to the clan. He looked relaxed under Ambrose’s care, ears forward as he listened curiously to his surroundings, not pinned back like they usually were. He didn’t even seem to mind Ambrose’s tight hold on him, the tribute seeming a little uncomfortable on the back of a stallion.
Next, my eyes took in the man riding beside me. He’d told Einar that he didn’t fault me for the misunderstanding. I wanted to ask more about that, but Einar refused to play translator forus. I couldn’t understand how it wasn’t my fault that he thought such a thing. And I still felt a great deal of pain thinking he’d forced himself to lie with me. What moments had brought me such joy were moments of fear for him. That hurt me.
Now that I was aware of his feelings, I understood his responses better. Squeezing his eyes shut or refusing to look at me. Those were signs that he was afraid, not embarrassed or shy. I should have paid more attention. I shouldn’t have been so swept away by his attention.
Like he knew where my thoughts had headed, Ambrose steered Rhoddgorr closer to me and reached out to take my hand, squeezing gently. It wasn’t much, a friendly gesture meant to reassure, but it meant the world to me. I regretted having to let his hand go, but I risked yanking him off of Rhoddgorr’s back, holding his hand at the pace we were going. It was better that he held on like before.
Matthew glanced over his shoulder at me, checking in on me. He was a quiet one like Finn, but with a brave soul underneath his shyness. He was learning to ride his own stallion, working to travel with Einar on his scouting journeys without being a burden. He’d trained with Rath for a time in hunting, and I’d heard he was learning self defense with Simon as well. He was a good brother to the clan, and he worked hard to earn his place among us.
I gave him a nod, knowing starting up a conversation would be too hard on him right now. It had taken him a while to admit to the clan his difficulties with speech. His town mistreated him because of it, making him too frightened to be able to get the words out. He was still shy with his words in large groups, but when we were alone during his riding lessons with just Einar nearby, he spoke more clearly and with growing confidence. I would not force him while he was uncomfortable.
Seeing Matthew and Einar only brought up more questions about Ambrose. He’d said he volunteered to be here. I thought that was why he was so open to exploring sex. Matthew had volunteered and accepted all parts of being in the clan. It made me wonder if Ambrose was lying about volunteering. If he truly thought he would be forced, he would not willingly volunteer. I assumed, anyway.
I grew more frustrated as time passed. I wanted to speak to Ambrose, to understand what had happened. It bothered me that I could not.
“Brother,” I said cautiously to Einar. He was already annoyed with Ambrose’s earlier comments, and I didn't want to piss him off. He’d hurt me for the insult. “How long did it take you to learn the common tongue?”
Einar barely glanced at me over his shoulder when he responded, “At least two seasons. I was taught initially by a companion who paid me for protection for a time. But it took a lot longer to truly understand the words after he moved on.”
I sighed. That was too long. The Ilvos clan would be here soon. The tributes from the other clans were only meant to spend a few weeks learning with Finn before moving on. The thought of not being able to communicate with Ambrose before he left crushed me. There was much I wished to say to him.
“Speak with the scribe,” Einar grunted. “He will translate for you.”
With a nod, I ended the conversation. It would do me no good to argue with him, despite knowing Finn was too overwhelmed right now to help us. Einar didn't care. His interests lay solely with the smaller man behind him. Even his clan wasn’t as important as Matthew was to him.
We arrived back with the clan during the midday meal. I handed the stallions off to my other helper, Ferarn, to care for, since a discussion needed to be had with Ambrose. I’d decidedon the journey not to bother Finn or Zoya with the task of translating. They were busy, and we’d caused enough trouble for them today. Instead, I brought Ambrose to Orthorr. Our clan leader needed to know about the misunderstanding. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too angry with me for my part in all of it.
Orthorr was in his tent,sitting in front of his table with his meal in front of him. I hadn’t wished to interrupt him, and was surprised he invited me in during his meal time. He usually ate with others and refused to discuss clan matters during that time.
“Apologies, clan leader. I can come back?—”
He waved away my concern, pointing at the table in front of me. “Sit.”
I urged Ambrose to sit across from Orthorr, taking the pillow next to his with a heavy sense of unease. Perhaps I would need a translator for Orthorr as well. He was acting strange. When Yamileth came in and handed each of us a bowl of our own food, I was confused. How had they known we were coming?
“I spoke with Rath,” he began, and I winced in response. I should have expected my brother to speak with Orthorr, especially since Finn’s lessons were involved, but I had hoped to beat him to the punch. Orthorr, who noticed my expression, nodded solemnly. “It is a grave thing for a tribute to think they have no choice who they lie with. And while Finn assured me it was a misunderstanding, I believe I need to hear the whole story first before making judgment.”
My shoulders slumped. I had no argument for that. I could only hope Ambrose felt the same way he had before.
