Page 4 of The Barbarian’s Claim (Not-So-Savage Barbarians #4)

Four

MATTHEW

M y stomach dropped at his words. I knew Orn had gotten injured in the attack, but I didn’t think he’d have lost the fight. He was a strong warrior. I’d seen him spar with others. I couldn't imagine someone getting the best of him.

I thought about asking what had happened, but from the annoyance on the barbarian’s face, he didn’t want to explain it to me.

I doubted he wanted me here at all. He seemed disgruntled that I was still here come morning.

I’d thought that was what he wished when he told me to stay out of sight, but apparently, I was more stupid than I thought.

I should have gone back to Orn’s tent when the sounds of battle stopped.

My chest ached, both from Orn’s death and this barbarian’s determination to get rid of me. Was there ever going to be a time when someone wished for me to be there?

Shakily, I stood, carefully moving his bag aside to step around it.

His brows furrowed a little, but I dropped my gaze to avoid his irritated glare, watching my feet as I followed him out of his tent.

I felt eyes on me as I walked through the village, and I wrapped my arms around my middle to give myself some comfort.

We walked in silence to the village center and into the tent where I’d been brought when I first arrived.

Lots of important things happened either here or just outside in the village center.

I’d learned a little about the clan, mostly by watching and seeing how people interacted.

I wished I’d been confident enough to tell Orn that before he died.

He was trying to protect me, he obviously cared enough to do that, and?—

I came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the tent. Orn was kneeling next to a barbarian I recognized, the one who had picked me up from my village, with two more holding his shoulders to keep him there. Shock and elation that he hadn’t died quickly morphed into confusion. What was happening?

The one who’d protected me the night before didn’t even look at me.

He crossed his arms, glowered at Orn, and stayed silent, ignoring my questioning gaze.

When I glanced at my protector, he didn’t look pleased to see me, and his sneer made the one next to me growl.

Orn seemed afraid of the one next to me, because he dropped his gaze like I often did, scowling at the floor instead.

It was the one who had fetched me from my town that spoke first. His voice wasn’t cold, but he was obviously holding back anger. “What is your name, tribute?”

He asked it in his language first, and when I was too frightened to answer, he did so again in the common tongue so I could understand him. I trembled under his gaze, my breath coming too quick and making me lightheaded.

“See? He has only spoken a handful of words since his arrival. He is useless,” Orn snapped.

I flinched at his sharp tone, and the barbarian next to me lunged forward and punched him in the face, startling a squeak out of me. I took a step back on instinct, only to be frozen in place when the one who questioned me looked my way again.

It took two barbarians to drag the one who protected me away.

The one still standing sighed heavily and looked at me again.

“I’m sorry. We do not wish to frighten you.

I am Uttin. I am in charge while our clan leader heals from his injuries.

The one from before is Einar. He… will not hurt a tribute. ”

He seemed sure of that statement, even if he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

I wasn’t sure how to reply. The barbarian, Einar, looked scary, but he’d protected me during the attack and let me stay with him until now, without complaint.

His anger wasn’t directed at me, so I felt okay around him.

Uttin tried again, gesturing to me. “What is your name?”

My attempt to say my name came out garbled. Shame filled me, and I dropped my gaze to the ground to hide my tears.

“What is his name?”

“Matthew,” Orn answered, then said something in the barbarian language that made Uttin growl.

“Mind your tongue. If you were kinder to him, he would be more forthcoming in his speech. You are the one who failed as his protector.”

Footsteps approached, and my shoulders came up. I waited for them to hit me, as so many did in town when I didn’t speak like I should. No blows came, and when I finally dared to look up, Uttin looked pained.

“You are in no danger from me, little one. We only brought you here to find you a new protector. Orn is not fit for the job.”

He must not have seen the question in my eyes, because he didn’t explain further.

He put his hand on my shoulder, leading me out of the tent and farther from Orn.

“There are not many brothers who prefer men, and most are still uninterested in bonding yet. We will choose another as your protector for now, and once you are introduced to the clan, you can meet more brothers to find a better match.”

I didn’t understand what he meant by that, and his accent was thick enough to make it harder for me to follow along, even though he spoke the common tongue.

The only thing I could do was nod along and hope that was what he wanted from me.

Einar and a few others were just outside the tent, speaking low to one another.

Uttin brought me to the group, speaking to them in their language.

My throat felt tight, and I struggled to swallow around the lump.

I felt like a burden. Orn was sick of me.

They didn’t know who to hand me off to. I’d thought things would change once I volunteered to come here. Instead, it was the same as before.

“You are not to blame,” Einar growled, like he could hear the thoughts in my head.

When I looked up at him, he seemed angry, but not with me.

When he looked at me, his gaze softened ever so slightly, like he wanted me to know what he said was true.

I wasn’t sure I believed him—I still didn’t know what happened with Orn that he was no longer my protector—but I wanted to.

Without thinking, I reached for him, holding the material of his tunic for support.

I couldn’t ask for comfort, even if I could find the courage to speak the words to do so, and I hated my inability to speak a little more because of it.

But he was the only one who I trusted to be honest with me.

He had no reason to lie and didn’t hide his emotions.

He was angry at the world, but apparently, not at me.

“Einar?” Uttin said questioningly. I didn’t look up. Most of the conversation was in the barbarian language, and they spoke too fast for me to keep up. I didn’t have a hope of understanding them.

I could feel Einar staring down at me. I focused only on my fist that was gripping his shirt, my eyes swimming with unshed tears. I wished I could ask for him to be my protector instead. He’d already proved he could, and he could at least tolerate me.

With a heavy sigh, Uttin spoke again. “It seems he trusts you. For now, he will stay with you until someone better can be found. I understand if you cannot accept this?—”

Einar growled but gave in. “If I must. Are we needed here?”

“No,” Uttin replied. “I will have Orn held until Orthorr can decide on his punishment. You should get some rest. You were on guard through the night. You can leave your tribute with?—”

“He will come with me,” Einar snapped, grabbing my wrist and pulling me away from the group. I had to jog to keep up with his long strides, but that didn’t matter. For now, I was with someone I knew would keep me safe. I would deal with the rest later.

When we got back to the tent, Einar released me and waved dismissively. “Do as you wish. I will sleep now.”

That was all he said before removing most of his weapons and lying on the bed. He kept hold of one like he was ready to attack at a moment’s notice, and I wasn’t sure why, but it made me feel safer with him. No one would sneak up on him and get away with it.

Careful not to disturb his weapons, I tiptoed back to my spot in the corner.

It was near his bed and out of the way, so I felt like I wouldn’t cause him more trouble there.

I hadn’t slept much the night before either, dozing on and off.

Every noise woke me with a start, and I was too frightened to get any rest. With Einar here, I felt like I could sleep a little at least, and I wrapped my arms around my knees and rested my head against them so I could try again.

“You cannot sleep there,” he growled after a few moments of quiet. I lifted my head, nervously peering over at him. He let out an exasperated sigh and pointed to the bed beside him. “Lie down and rest, if that is what you wish. You need not be frightened of me.”

I wasn’t, not really. He was a little intimidating, but kind enough that he didn’t argue about my staying with him.

Hesitantly, I climbed onto the pallet of blankets next to him. There wasn’t much, a thicker one on the ground to protect us and a thinner one on top. I didn’t mind. I’d slept in worse places.

Giving me his back, he got comfortable again.

For a little while, I stared at the ceiling of the tent, trying to make sense of everything that had happened.

I still wanted to know what Orn had done and why he wasn’t my protector anymore.

Uttin mentioned something about punishment.

That sounded bad. But he’d been fighting the night prior.

What could he have done that was so bad?

I drifted off to sleep, still thinking of the possibilities.

EINAR

I felt when the tribute finally fell asleep.

My instincts didn’t like someone else beside me.

I didn’t know him or trust him. He hadn’t spoken once since the night before, and only showed with his expressions what he was thinking.

I couldn’t decide if I liked that or not.

On the one hand, I rarely trusted people’s words.

They could be lying. His expressions were harder to hide.

On the other hand, he could be faking, for all I knew.

Townsfolk weren’t trustworthy, and tributes were less so because they didn’t want to be here.

They would do almost anything to get away.

While I was contemplating sleeping outside and coming back near mealtime to fetch the tribute, I felt him move behind me until his body was pressed against mine, his arms tucked between us, and his forehead resting between my shoulder blades.

I couldn’t move without jostling him or rolling on top of him.

With a heavy sigh, I rested my head on my arm.

At least if his body was close, I would feel if he moved to attack me.

I managed a little sleep, enough to function at least. A dark dream woke me, but that was normal, and I was glad that the tribute was behind me when I woke. I sometimes lashed out in my sleep. He was safe against my back. I would wake up before I could turn fully to face him.

He woke when I rolled out of bed and sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes.

He had soft black hair, a little longer than most townsfolk preferred, falling almost to his shoulders.

No facial hair to speak of. His features were young, younger than normal for a tribute, but Uttin would not have accepted the offer if he were not of age.

He was also thin. Almost too thin. Like he did not eat enough.

He would need to fix that to survive the winter.

When he blinked up at me, I finally noticed his eyes.

Gray like an approaching storm, and bigger than I was used to.

The size made him look innocent, and when they’d filled with tears earlier, it tugged at my chest painfully.

Innocents were meant to be protected. His silence didn’t make that any less true.

“Are you hungry?” I asked gruffly in the common tongue, because staring at him was making us both uncomfortable.

He didn’t answer out loud, but he nodded uncertainly. Unlike Orn, the quiet didn’t bother me. He’d still answered the question.

Had he been a new arrival, I would have left him in my tent and brought him food instead.

But he had been here a few weeks by now, so I figured he understood enough to be able to move about.

I grabbed a few weapons, gesturing for him to follow me.

He did so without question or complaint and stuck close.

At one point, he grabbed my tunic like he had earlier, and I resisted the urge to scowl.

I understood his urge to seek protection, especially after the attack on the clan.

I just didn’t like him touching me. I ignored it, determined to finish the task of fetching our meals quickly so we could separate again.

I didn’t normally join the clan for meals. I preferred to hunt on my own and cook at the fire in front of my tent. But the meals provided by the clan were better balanced, and the little tribute needed to eat. I pointed to some cushions near the fire, turning enough to look at him.

“Sit.”

His gaze darted around uneasily, and his grip tightened on my tunic. He didn’t want to; he showed that in his actions, but he also didn’t argue. It was the fear on his face that made me change my mind when he released me and took a step back.

“Stop. You will come with me instead.”

The relief on his face was instant, and when I waited long enough for him to grab my tunic again, he gifted me a small smile. I didn’t understand Orn. The tribute was well-behaved and didn’t whine or fuss. Why was it wrong that he was quiet?

I shook my head, walking into the tent where we would get our food. I would not waste time trying to understand the stupidity of others.