Page 9 of The Barbarian’s Claim (Not-So-Savage Barbarians #4)

Nine

EINAR

O rthorr spluttered at my gesture, but Matthew only looked up at me, confused but accepting of whatever I said.

He put a great deal of trust in me. I intended to honor that, even if I could not provide him with the relationship he was looking for.

I could offer him protection and trust between us. For him, that would have to be enough.

“Einar, you can’t?—”

Jerking to glare at Orthorr, I reminded him, “Your own bonding skipped the ceremony, brother. Or do you not remember?”

He winced, and a tendril of guilt tugged at me. Orthorr did not like to be reminded of his bondmate since her passing. It hurt him too much. It was cruel to throw his bonding in his face.

“I’m sorry. I didn't mean?—”

He put up a hand, his face pained. “Yes, you did. And you’ve made your point. A ceremony is a good way to introduce your bondmate to the clan, but it is not required. I take it you will be leaving soon?”

“Now,” I grumbled, pulling Matthew to his feet. I didn’t want to give Uttin the time to butt in again.

Slowly, Orthorr stood as well, and I stepped forward to give him a hand automatically.

He shot me a grateful smile before he fully straightened.

“Thank you, brother. I will let the clan know of the news. Be safe on your journey.” His gaze slid to Matthew.

“Watch out for one another. It will put me at ease knowing that my friend is not out there alone.”

Matthew nodded rapidly but didn’t say anything more. Putting my fist over my chest, I bowed slightly to honor Orthorr’s position.

“Heal well, brother. We will return soon.”

Orthorr returned the gesture, and we left. There was nothing more to be said.

We walked for hours before Matthew started to show signs of fatigue.

He was stronger than he looked and didn’t complain about the terrain or the temperature.

He couldn’t keep the pace as long as I could, but I didn't expect him to the first time.

I found a place to stop and nudged him to sit down at the base of a large tree for a break.

He gave me a small, grateful smile, sliding the bag off his back before settling himself onto the ground.

While he took a few minutes to rest, I pulled out some of the bread and dried meat for a snack. It would keep his energy up if he ate more.

“Th-thank you.”

It was the first time he spoke unprompted. I looked up at him, curious about what had changed, but he avoided eye contact and stared instead at his feet. I let it go. I had no interest in pushing him right now.

I still waited for him to say something about me claiming him.

I’d never given him any indication I would do so.

I never wanted to until Uttin brought up sending him away.

I didn’t trust others to care for him like he needed.

It wasn’t a love match like most bondings were, but I would take care of him. That seemed enough for him.

He finally looked up when I handed him the food.

His eyes strayed around, not avoiding me, just curious.

He did that often whenever I took him to hunt.

Uttin had not been aware that I’d taken him many times before.

It would have only made him more angry if I admitted it.

I didn’t care—I would do with my tribute what was needed to keep him safe—but I also had no interest in arguing with him more.

Matthew was fine, and we were on our way to the segel trees farther north.

The wood from those trees was best for making bows.

Matthew would benefit from one made for him as well.

Straightening suddenly, a level of worry flashed over Matthew’s face.

Slowly, I glanced over my shoulder in the direction he looked.

He was right to be afraid. Had the gronnok been a mother with cubs, our presence would have angered her greatly.

But this one was male and more interested in foraging before his long sleep than in us.

When he noticed us, he eyed us warily before moving on.

It was fear this time that stayed Matthew’s tongue. He looked worriedly at me, glancing in the direction of where the gronnok had gone, like he was afraid the beast would come back. I shook my head, keeping my voice low.

“He is not interested in you. His long sleep is soon. He will eat much and find a cave to rest through the cold months. It is in the spring when they become more dangerous. Especially the mothers. If you ever find cubs, the mother is close, and she will protect them. Turn the opposite way and stay as quiet as you can.”

He nodded rapidly, taking in every word. He was a good listener, and I knew he would heed my warnings.

Pushing to my feet, I offered him my hand. “Come. We will walk until night, then build a fire to keep the creatures away.”

His hand was small in mine, but not soft like a woman’s.

The roughness of his hand was not new; he must have done heavy labor before volunteering as tribute.

Had he had control of his voice, he would have been well suited to the brothers in my clan.

He took well to our lifestyle and knew how to work hard.

Even I appreciated the effort he gave, and I was not easily pleased.

He’d made the right choice to volunteer. He belonged out here.

The silence was companionable, and he only stopped me once to relieve himself.

The rest of the day passed quietly, aside from a few times that I pointed out plants for him to avoid unless he wanted a rash.

I watched how carefully he studied each plant, committing it to his memory before moving on, and felt pride for his dedication.

My mood was more relaxed than I’d expected traveling with Matthew.

When we finally stopped for the night, I was at ease.

Normally, when traveling with a companion, I was annoyed by the time we stopped, if not outright angry.

People liked to talk to fill the silence and would spend hours trying to get me to engage.

Even the companions whose company I enjoyed for a time would get on my nerves.

Matthew was happy with the silence and had a tired smile on his face when he sat in front of the fire I made.

He put his hands out to warm them and watched with great interest as I made a meal of what little I’d brought with us, along with the catch I’d hunted before choosing this spot.

“Can you cook?” I asked him as the meat browned.

He shook his head, then winced. “I-I n-never t-t-tried.”

I looked him over with a frown. He was clearly much younger than me but probably old enough to be on his own. Who fed him if he did not feed himself?

It was his turn to see the question on my face. He dropped his gaze, shame overtaking his expression as he admitted, “I-I had no h-home. Th-the church f-f-fed me s-sometimes. Others I-I did n-n-not eat.”

This surprised me. He was vague whenever he spoke of his life before he came to the clan, and I remembered he’d mentioned a fire, but I did not think that meant he hadn’t found somewhere else to go.

“How long?”

Chewing on his lip, he lifted his gaze to look at me. “A l-little more th-than t-t-two years. Th-the o-orphanage only l-lets you s-s-stay until s-sevent-teen.”

The shock left me speechless. He was not yet a man when they forced him out on his own. How did they expect him to survive with no skills or money? Did they care so little about their children that they would just leave him to the streets to die?

It hit me suddenly. This was why he’d volunteered.

He’d said he would not survive another year.

He’d recognized that truth, and instead of resigning himself to his fate, he chose a different path.

A path that might have led to more misery, had he not run into my tent like he had, but he was prepared to face that as long as it meant he could keep surviving.

Respect filled me, and when I looked at him again, I saw more than the frightened tribute who clung to my tunic and hid from the world. “You are a brave man,” I said quietly. “Not many would survive as long as you did.”

He lifted a shoulder, obviously uneasy with the compliment. I let it go. It would not help matters to make him uncomfortable.

Something nudged at my mind, and I narrowed my eyes.

“How old are you? You said you had to leave at seventeen and you lived two years outside of the orphanage after that.” In our clan, the age of adulthood was twenty.

We did not accept tributes younger than that. If Uttin accepted him despite that?—

“T-t-twenty,” he said softly. “Th-they arrived to f-fetch me on my b-b-birthday.”

A grunt was all I could offer him. To think his becoming a man was spent in fear of what would come instead of celebrating like he should have been was abhorrent to me. The people of the towns were cruel, and I hated them a little more than I had before he told me the truth.

It also meant he was twenty years my junior.

I hadn’t thought to ask when I claimed him.

It didn't matter; I wouldn’t have changed my mind, but it did unsettle me a little.

I was so much older than he was, and vastly more jaded with the world.

Aside from my protection, what did he gain from our bonding? What else could I even offer?