Giordi was ordered to strip to his trousers, showing off a couple of bruises and some mighty fine scratches. He sat on a stool, waiting for Revna to return which she did after several minutes with a salve that didn’t smell as nice as the one Aalis used on cuts and scratches but Giordi kept his opinion to himself. Only now that she was in the tent with him alone did she remove the veil around her face and even push back the hood so that her ashen braid could rest comfortably over her shoulder.

  Revna grimaced, trying to sit down and apply the salve, her large size making it difficult for her to work around.

  “I’ll do it.” Giordi said, taking the pot.

  “I do it.” Revna insisted. “Patras said…”

  “Then it’ll be just one more thing we won’t tell him.” Giordi dabbed his fingers into the pot and smeared the salve on his skin.

  “You think I am coward.”

  He paused and looked at Revna who bowed her head.

  “A coward?”

  “To not tell patras truth.”

  Giordi sighed and put the pot down. “Revna…your father is…terrifying. You made a mistake. You ought to feel you can tell him the truth and not be punished for it.” He leaned forward and pushed his hands through his curls. “I’m the coward. If I’d been able to handle pain I would have chosen to be whipped…then you wouldn’t be married to me.”

  She looked up at him, her grey eyes soft and sad. “We not married.”

  Giordi faltered. “Uh…yes we are. There was a wedding…” She shook her head, her ashen braid falling down her back. “What do I not know?”

  “Married…is…” She stammered then gestured to the bed.

  Giordi’s face blushed. “Oh! But then…because we did, or at least your father thinks we did months and months ago…he considers us already married.”

  “It is a serious thing, for my people, to be like that.” Revna explained, picking up the salve and applying it.

  “More serious than I ever thought it.” Giordi admitted. “Revna, why are you being punished if I supposedly forced you?”

  Revna licked her lips. “I…defy patras. He know I…like Giordi. Sten tell him I…”

  “Flirt?”

  Revna’s cheeks reddened into a bright shade of crimson. “I tell patras I was forced…but patras say I…encouraged it.”

  “Your father says it’s your fault?”

  “He say I…display myself.” Revna shook her head. “He not wrong. I…wanted…more.” Her shoulders bowed and she sighed. “I was fool.”

  Giordi sighed, wishing he had the words to reassure her. “We both acted foolishly,” he admitted, “but it was Haern who fooled us.” He swiped his fingers through the salve and reached over to his back, trying to rub it in to a wound he couldn’t see. “Revna…am I getting close?”

  “I see,” she stood up and looked at his back, “no. I do.”

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Giordi tensed. “You can’t miss it. It’s a bad wound. It probably requires stitches.”

  “It little scratch.”

  He frowned. “No it’s a huge scrape. It’s at least a big, nasty scratch.”

  Revna held her thumb and finger out indicating not even the length of Giordi’s little finger. “This little.”

  “I’m telling you, it’s a bad…ow!” He jumped out of his skin. “Stings! Ow!” He twisted to glare at her. “You’re laughing!” Revna covered her mouth with her free hand. “It hurts!” She couldn’t stop giggling and it occurred to Giordi that it was the first time he’d seen anything on her face other than shame. He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re a cruel wife, Revna, torturing your husband like that.”

  She laughed, rubbing the salve between her fingers to warm it up before applying it to his skin. She gasped loudly and he jumped up, alarmed as she clutched her belly.

  “What? What is it?” He froze in a ridiculous pose as if something was about to erupt out of her body and start strangling him.

  “The babe…it moved.”

  “Really?” Giordi eyed her rather swollen belly that was tightly draped in a gown probably not used to accommodating such generous portions.

  “It was quiet…still…but now…” She gasped again and Giordi gulped, seeing the cloth shiver as the child within her shifted.

  “Oh…does it hurt?”

  “No,” she winced, “uncomfortable.”

  He grasped her hand and led her to the bed where she could sit and lean back. He stared at her belly, still confounded at the notion that a baby could exist inside a woman.

  “You feel?” Revna held out her hand.

  “Um…well, I…” She took his hand and placed it on her belly. Giordi found himself holding his breath and for a moment he wondered if the baby had decided to resent him too when it moved and Giordi’s hand could almost feel its elbow or knee sticking into his palm. He jumped back and shook his head. “I’ve never felt that before!”

  “Big roll,” Revna sighed wearily, “so tight…” She sighed as the evening meal horn resounded and tried to sit up.

  “Why don’t you stay here?” Giordi suggested, pulling his tunic over his torso.

  “Married woman…expected.” Revna grunted and pushed herself up onto her feet. Giordi put his hands out, not holding her but prepared to catch her if she fell. “I go.”

  “Wait,” Giordi blurted, “what if a husband wants his wife? You know,” he jerked his head towards the bed, “like you said before.” Revna gazed at him fearfully. Giordi waved his hands. “No. No, no…I mean…if I want you here…you can stay and rest.”

  Revna shook her head. “Feast for you…your honour…”

  “I’ll make an appearance,” Giordi insisted, “but if anyone comes looking for you, tell them I want you here.”

  Revna smiled gratefully. “I…thank you.” She watched Giordi attempt to wrap his nomad mantle around his shoulders. “Here,” she offered, taking both ends, draping the mantle over his shoulders, clasping it together so that it wasn’t tempted to fall, “there…now you look like my people.”

  “If only that were true.” Giordi tugged on his boots as he headed to the flap in the tent. “I won’t be late but don’t wait up. Get some rest.”

  Three hours later Giordi stumbled out of the meeting hall that became the feasting hall in the evenings. It was pitch black, there was frost in the air that nipped at any exposed piece of skin and Giordi was struggling to stand upright.

  “You be able to find your way home?” Judd slurred then tried to clear his throat as if doing so would sober him up.

  “I’ll be fine,” Giordi chuckled, “you don’t need to coddle me. Suvau!” The big, dark skinned man looked at Giordi with a slightly glazed but not saturated expression. “Make sure these light weights get home safely.” Giordi waved them off and started to stumble in the direction of his tent. He sang drunkenly to himself a song of unidentifiable melody and the lyrics were a blurred mess. Even the cold night air wasn’t enough to slap away his happy stupor as he approached the tent. Suddenly he tripped, falling flat on his face, getting partially tangled in the tent ropes, feeling several heavy blows to his torso when there was a sharp intake of air accompanied with what Giordi was sure was a nomadic expletive then nothing for a moment. He struggled to his feet when someone grabbed his belt and hauled him up with strength only one man possessed.

  “Suvau?” Giordi peered at him. “What are you doing here?”

  “Getting the light weights home safely.” Suvau said sternly, pulling the flap aside and pushing him inside. “Get some sleep.”

  Giordi flopped onto the edge of the bed, pulling his boots off then fell back into the embrace of furs and blankets. Revna stirred slightly and he hushed her a little too dramatically before putting his hand on his forehead and groaning.

  “I’m going to have a headache tomorrow…” He lamented then promptly fell asleep.