Page 28 of The Physician's Barbarian
The meal was tense, and I couldn’t stomach eating much of it. I normally handed the bowl off to Godr when I was too full, but he wasn’t faring any better than I was. His normal smile was missing, and a dark look had overtaken his face ever since Patrick had translated for me. It was hard enough for me to tell the story the first time. I didn’t have the patience or the heart to try again in the barbarian language.
I was getting ready to suggest Godr and I head back to his tent to rest when Uttin appeared beside the fire. “Ambrose. Good news. Two from the Ilvos clan have arrived to escort you. You will leave in the morning.”
My stomach sank. I’d known from the start I wouldn’t be staying here, but it still felt too soon now that they’d actually arrived to take me away. I’d grown comfortable here. I helped the healers when I could, enjoyed learning something new, and Godr—I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t see that pained look on his face again. It would kill me.
Uttin looked at me expectantly, so I forced myself to smile and nod. “Alright. I, uh… I’ll be staying one more night with Godr?”
“If you’re more comfortable, yes. Otherwise you can stay with your escorts. Come and meet them for now?”
He said it like a question, but it didn’t really feel like I had another option. It wasn’t like I could refuse to go with them just because I was more comfortable here. I stood, clenching my hands to hide the tremble in them, and followed Uttin away from the fire and toward the village center. I was almost afraid to look back, worried Godr wouldn’t follow. I’d been so determined not to admit I wanted him, and yet the moment it was time for me to go, the thought of walking away made me want to throw up.
Orthorr stood by the big fire in the village center with two strangers in a different style of clothing than the clan I’d been staying with wore. Godr’s clan had fur-lined boots and thick trousers, clothes that better suited a colder climate, even if a good percent of them went without tunics in the chillier weather. The newcomers’ clothes were lighter, and they wore cloaks over one shoulder in a deep blue that stood out in the sea of browns and creams Godr’s clan wore.
Othorr spoke slowly as he introduced us so I could understand. “Ah, here he is. Ambrose, this is Varr and Takr. They are from the Ilvos clan. Brothers, this is Ambrose. He is a physician and has been a great help to our healers since his arrival.”
Varr seemed pleased, nodding in greeting, but Takr’s once-over made me uneasy. He looked at me like a piece of meat. Finn had said each clan was different, but no one ever said anything about the Ilvos clan being bad. What were the chances they just didn't know?
A warm presence at my back surprised me, and relief flooded through me when Godr’s voice spoke behind me. “Watch it,” he growled. “You will act respectful or face me.”
The rough growl coming from the normally joyful barbarian made me shiver. I looked at him over my shoulder, taking in the dark look on his face, and felt my cheeks flush a little. The protective act wasn’t helping me keep my distance from him.
“Mind your tongue,” Takr shot back. “He is not of your clan. He belongs to the Ilvos clan.”
Godr looked ready to argue that, but Varr interjected before things got bloody, stepping between the two seething barbarians. “Enough. Takr meant no offense to Em-brow’s protector. We appreciate you watching over him in our stead.”
When neither immediately backed down, Orthorr spoke, his tone a warning, “Godr. Mind yourself.”
Godr had no choice but to listen. He took a step back, bowing his head to his clan leader in response. Othorr sighed, exasperated.
“Ambrose, you will sleep in the receiving tent tonight with Varr and Takr and?—”
“I thought I could stay with Godr tonight. Uttin said it was okay if it made me more comfortable,” I blurted in the common tongue because I wasn’t confident I could argue my point with my limited grasp of the barbarian language.
Orthorr raised an eyebrow at Uttin, who shrugged. “He looked nervous. I thought it best for him to get a good night’s sleep with someone he is comfortable with before his journey.”
Thank the goddess for Uttin. Orthorr accepted his explanation with a nod and translated for the two escorts. Varr didn’t seem bothered by the request, but Takr looked annoyed. He seemed to think better than to argue with a clan leader, though, and kept his opinions to himself. They were led away for a late supper, and Godr didn’t stick around to chat. He grabbedmy elbow, steering me away from the village center and toward his tent.
Once we were inside, he released me and paced the short space. He was angry, I could see it in his face, but he didn’t explain why. It couldn’t just be that Takr looked at me funny, right? Why did that thought thrill me a little? What was it about this barbarian that made all my preconceived notions about myself go up in flames?
The area of the tent was too small to pace in, and he was only making me dizzy prowling around like that. When he came back toward me, it was my turn to grab him, pulling him out of the tent and over to the fence. He hopped it without waiting for me, and I followed him out into the field where the horses were resting for the night, covered in colorful blankets to keep them warm. Mine was nowhere to be seen, too gnarled to even pass as a blanket. Weaving was not a skill of mine.
He didn’t stop until he was as far from the village as he could get without leaving the pasture, staring out into the darkness past the fence line. For a long time, he didn’t say anything to me. I only called out to him when I noticed he had goosebumps on his arms, and I was starting to shake from the cold.
“Godr?”
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “You do not need to stay. You need rest before your journey.”
“But—”
“I am not good company this night. If you wish to stay with your new protectors, I will understand. Your happiness is all that matters to me.”
He said that, but the way his hands clenched told another story. He was as happy about me leaving as I felt. A rush of emotions swam through me: pain, regret, sadness, and a broken sort of hope that I knew better than to examine too closely. I couldn’t stay with him. While learning about the clans and theway they worked, Finn had explained that while they were allies, it wasn’t a close bond between all the clans. There were rivalries, and respect was a foundation to their interactions. The Ilvos clan was taking a great leap of trust by letting me come here and learn from Finn. If I tried demanding to stay, even if it was something as simple as feeling more comfortable here, it could have devastating consequences. I’d caused enough trouble for the clan already. But maybe… Maybe I could say goodbye.
“Come with me,” I said, my pronunciation of the language still stilted and awkward. Godr understood me, though, and took the hand I held out to him with a frown. I drew him back toward the clan and his tent, patting Rhoddgorr as I passed. I tried not to think about how I wouldn’t see him anymore either. I should’ve known better than to let myself get attached to the people here. I’d lost enough in my life already.
When we stepped back into Godr’s tent, I stepped out of my boots, dragging Godr toward the bed. He seemed surprised when I drew him down onto it, nevertheless following my lead as I pushed him onto his back like he had been the first time I did this.
The first brush of my lips over his made him gasp, and I took full advantage, sliding my tongue into his mouth. He groaned in response, his fingers sliding into my hair making tingles spread along my scalp. I try to block out the thoughts that this would be the last time. The only time I was doing this fully aware of the choice I was making. I wasn’t doing this to protect myself. I was doing it because I wanted to connect with him one more time before I left another place that felt like home.
