Wolf's-own: Weregild by Carole Cummings Read Free Book Online Page B

something to eat for the new arrivals as soon as he'd dried off and changed, and he was certainly taking his bloody time about it.
    Umeia smiled at Yori's quiet, “Yes, Umeia,” from the bottom of the stairs. At least one of them did as they were told.
    "How did you get him through the Gates?” she asked Malick when they were halfway up. She'd fretted for nearly half an hour after Yori and Samin had gotten back with the children, wondering if Malick and Shig and Fen were going to have to spend the night outside the city, and what Umeia was supposed to do with Fen's frantic brother if they did. Malick had gotten them all in then sent them ahead while he went back for Fen and Shig, Samin had told Umeia, with which Samin had plainly disagreed—Joori, as well, from what Samin said; quite vocally too—but of which Samin, at least, had obviously recognized the necessity. Joori, not so much, since he'd apparently been seething ever since. And after Joori had told her exactly why he was seething, Umeia had only fretted more.
    "I was going to go with old-fashioned bribery,” Malick told her, brooding. “Even got them to open up one of the accessory doors, but then they saw the braid.” He shrugged when Umeia shot him a frown. “It was either have Shig take care of them, or let them arrest me for interfering with an Untouchable. Or killing them all, but...."
    Umeia shook her head. No wonder Shig had merely stomped past her and gone right to bed. Her head must be near to exploding. Umeia would stop in after she finished with Fen.
    Joori was waiting at the door to Fen's room when they finally crested the top of the stairs, his jaw still set tight and arms wrapped stiffly about his torso. Vibrating. He didn't advance to try to take his brother back again, but Umeia could tell it was all Joori could do to keep himself still and wait. The younger ones—Caidi and Morin—were standing in the hallway between their new room and the one Yori shared with Shig, wrapped in blankets, watching as Malick and Umeia got their brother up the stairs. Again, Fen didn't look up, just hung his head, hiding behind his hair again, gaze on the floor as he shuffled. He stayed silent as Umeia and Malick maneuvered him down the hall and through the door to his room.
    "All right, let's see what we've got here,” Umeia sighed, gratefully lowering Fen to sit on the bed and shaking out her arm as she stepped back.
    With an irritated scowl, Fen shook off Malick's grip, but he paused in mid-growl, eyes abruptly sprung wide and anxious, and a sharp little gasp leaked from his throat when Malick moved away. Blindly, Fen reached out, grabbed hold of Malick again, catching only a loose shirttail at first, groping desperately, until Malick reached back and took his hand. The reaction was immediate: instant calm and instant frustrated shame for needing it.
    Umeia watched it all with... too many emotions that pissed her off. She sighed. “Help him with the shirt and trousers, M—” She cut herself off, rolled her eyes when Joori's mouth went tight, and shook her head. “Never mind. C'mon, lad, let's get ‘em off."
    She tapped at Fen's nearest elbow, satisfied when he only sighed and reached up to unlace his tunic, though she noted—and noted Joori noting—that Malick's hand went to rest on Fen's knee, and Fen didn't try to kill him for it, tightening his mouth only when the tunic gave him trouble. The tie was leather and soaked through, and squeaked when he tried to unknot it. Mouth set, Fen reached down to the sheath on his hip—stopped. He lifted a glare up at Malick.
    "Who took my knives?"
    "Samin's got them,” Malick said, fingers gently tightening on Fen's knee.
    Fen chewed on his lip for a second. “Did... was I...?"
    "Yeah, you were,” Malick said; Fen seemed to understand what Malick meant, because his shoulders slumped a little and he reached up to rub at his brow. “Fen, it's all right,” Malick assured him smoothly, “everyone understands,