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Authors: Patrice Sarath

The Crow God's Girl (18 page)

BOOK: The Crow God's Girl
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“I’m sorry. And I thought I made it clear, I’m not interested.” She tried to soften her words at the end, but it only made her sound uncertain.

“Not interested. Ouch.” He said it with dry affect and she almost laughed. If she wasn’t careful, she would end up liking him.

“We got off on the wrong foot,” he said. “I am a merchant and smallholder of an old family, though we are not one of the Houses. My mother tells me to choose a wife, but I am more ambitious, so I think it would be nice to have a wife who is more than just a wife. One who is a fine healer, for instance, or who has knowledge of more of the world than house and hearth. Someone who could be a partner, and not just a wife.”

He sounded rueful. “They said only you were their foster daughter. They didn’t tell me you had been promised to their son. I can see why you wouldn’t be interested, but you won’t be able to marry him, and I thought that you would reconsider. I thought we might suit one another.”

Kate was very conscious of his closeness. In Aeritan, to suit one another had two very definite meanings, one of which was sexual. Her face flamed. What would it be like to kiss him?
No! I don’t want to kiss him!

She backed up, clutching the bedroll.

“Mr. Mitain, I appreciate your offer but I’m really not interested. I am sorry you were misled. You see, my parents wouldn’t want me to marry a stranger, and so, I’m afraid, I can’t. I’m really sorry.”

He nodded, his face crestfallen, and she wondered a little at how much of it was a performance.

“Then, I will leave you alone and wish you well on your journey, wherever it takes you. I hold no ill feelings, Kett Mosslin. And if there is some way I can help you, you may call on me.”

He went to leave, stopping only when she called out, “Wait!”

His expression was one of polite interest, not hope, when she took a breath and said, “How would you like to buy my horse?”

She needed a stake and had nothing. Allegra would fetch a pretty price. Cross her with one of the stallions of Wessen, and her offspring would have conformation and performance.

Mitain lived up to his profession. His face lit up with interest.

“The bay mare?”

She nodded.

“No offense, but is she not Lord Terrick’s?”

Technically, maybe. “No.” She was tired of people thinking that Lord Terrick owned everything of hers, just because she was foster daughter. “I brought her with me from my country, when I returned Lord Terrick’s son to him.”

He laughed out loud. “And I wager that you plan to remind him of that when he protests.”

I want to be a long way away from here before he finds out.
“Are you interested? You wouldn’t get in trouble, would you?”

He shook his head. “I think Lord Terrick and I will be able to come to an arrangement if he feels he is owed for the mare. I would be happy to take her off your hands.”

And just like that, she sold her horse.

 

On the way to find Ossen, she paused at
Colar’s bedroom door. Everyone was outside. If she didn’t hurry, she would be running after the crows, packs in hand, waving and shouting at them to wait up. Still, she had a moment to herself. She pushed open the door. The room was the way she remembered it from Christmas, messy, filled with Aevin and Yare’s stuff.

One chest was shut tight, pushed off to the side. She set down her pack and opened it up. There were his jeans and T shirt and his hiking boots. His jeans were still dark blue, almost as nice as when they bought them at the mall. She remembered that day. He hadn’t been long out of the hospital and the mall excursion was almost too much for him. Too much input, too much strangeness, but her parents had been eager to outfit him for his new life, his new world. They let him keep his armor and weapons, hidden in the closet in his room, but it was clear they hoped he would adjust, in time, to his new life.
Just as his parents wanted me to adjust.

She reached down for his shirt and the rest of his clothes. His hiking boots were in good shape.
What a waste, these are good boots
. He should wear them. She went to refold the clothes and felt something stiff in the pocket of his jeans. She pulled out the folded brochure.

Kate could no longer read the words, but the pictures were clear enough, even if her eyes burned and her head went dizzy when she tried to focus on them. There were the images of big aircraft carriers, jets taking off the flight deck. There were rows of uniformed cadets at class or taking part in military exercises. Colar had kept the Annapolis recruiting brochure he had gotten from their high school counselor.

Why would he keep it? Had he wanted to stay? She hadn’t known, not really. He had mentioned it once or twice, but she hadn’t known he was serious about it.

He would never be a Navy pilot. In his own world, he was nothing but the eldest son of Lord Terrick, a pawn in his father’s hand. He too must have felt how much he lost when he was married to Lord Kenery’s daughter–not just Kate, but all possibilities. She looked around for pen and ink. There was some over by the window, but the ink had dried. She spit a few times into the little pot to make a paste, and took a scrap of paper that someone, probably Aevin, had been practicing writing on. Kate dipped the pen and began to write.

 

Dear Colar, I’m going home. I wish I could see you one more time before I go. I don’t think we’ll ever see each other again. We were never meant to be together–if it hadn’t been for the gordath we’d never have known each other existed. So I guess this is the way it should be.

 

She didn’t end it with
Love, Kate
, because she didn’t know if that was true anymore. She added,
I will never forget you
, because that was true, and squeezed in a small character for her name. She blew on the note to dry it, but the ink was so dry, it barely needed the attention. Then she stuck the note into the pocket with the brochure and put everything back. She doubted anyone would look there except for Colar.

Walking the hall one final time, it finally sunk in that she was leaving for good. The drafty stone House, as cold and uncomfortable as it was, had sheltered her through two full seasons. Aeritan was not an easy country, and Terrick had saved her from the worst it had to offer. She made her way down the stairs, avoiding the step that used to trip her up so badly, and saw Samar at the bottom, giving orders to some of the householders. The housekeeper caught Kate’s eye and she gave her a long look, then dismissed the men and women, who were giving her wide-eyed looks.

“You are a fool,” she said in her peremptory way. “Did you remember your belongings under the mattress?”

“Of course,” Kate stopped abruptly. “Wait, how–”

Samar smiled a thin, mirthless smile. “Even Callia’s gift?”

Kate reddened. “Yes,” she said shortly. That she didn’t want to talk about at all. “I’d like to say good-bye, Samar. I count you as a friend. If you could do one more thing for me–could you tell Callia good-bye for me, please?”

She couldn’t tell if Samar looked more sour than usual at the request. Regardless, the housekeeper gave her a curt nod.

“The family is all together in Lady Beatra’s study. I do not believe you would leave without saying good-bye.”

With that admonition she gave the slightest jerk of her head in that direction. Kate knew an order when she had been given one. She shouldered her packs and did as she was told.

As soon as she was ushered into the study, she wondered if it had been Mitain who tipped them off. Regardless, they were all there waiting for her. Eri was crying and trying hard not to. Lady Beatra looked sad and strained; Lord Terrick was stern, implacable.

Kate gave them a full-on curtsey, and for once she felt she had mastered it.

“Thank you for guesting, my lord and my lady,” she said, pressing her hand over her heart.

“Kett–” Lady Beatra began, but her husband gestured her to hush and she obeyed, though her eyes welled with tears. Kate’s heart hardened at her distress and she looked away.

To Aevin she held out her hand and he clasped it as if they were comrades. He flushed earnestly.

“Good-bye, Aevin,” she told him. “You are a good soldier–I would want you on my side in any battle.”

He tried to scoff–what girl would he ever be in battle with?– but she could tell he was pleased.

Yare she high-fived, which he loved, and then she caught him for a hug. While he howled and struggled, she tickled him, and when she let him go, he was laughing.

“Stay out of trouble, okay, scamp?”

He stuck his tongue out at her, and as if he couldn’t stand it anymore, he darted off.

She faced Erinye last. The little girl hung back by her mother, tears welling. Kate went to her knees and held out her arms, and Eri flung herself at her.

“Don’t go, Kett, please don’t go!” she sobbed. Kate hugged her and shushed her.

“Eri, you know how to read now, right?” Eri nodded, rubbing snot and tears into Kate’s cloak. “When I get to Red Gold Bridge, I’ll write to you and tell you everything that I did and saw. I’ll send my letter so that it comes to Erinye Terrick, at Terrick House, Terrick, Aeritan. It won’t even need a ZIP code.”

Eri sniffled and looked up at her. “But Kett. How will I write to you?”

Kate’s heart panged. If all went according to plan, she would go through the gordath and would never see Eri again. That hurt worse than losing Colar.

“Just write, okay, Eri? Just write, and maybe someday I’ll read those letters.”

She hugged the little girl for a long moment, and then let her go.

 

In the stables, Mitain handed over a sack of
money under Drabian’s disapproving eye. The head stableman said nothing though, and Kate hugged Allegra good-bye, the irritable mare laying back her ears at the unwanted attention. Stelpin helped her tack up Hotshot and she tied the bedroll and pack onto the D rings of the saddle. She gave Stelpin a big hug and held out her hand to Drabian. He took it and harrumphed.

“I am against it, girl. You are making a big mistake.”

“You know I can’t stay, Drabian.”

“I know no such thing. Were you my fosterling, I would never grant such foolishness. You would have been locked up until you came to your senses. I wonder at the lord, I surely do.”

He wants to get rid of me, that’s why.
She was supposed to be married and gone by the time Colar came home with his new wife, but Lord Terrick would take just
gone
in a pinch.

 

Ossen and her brothers turned to look at Kate as she came up the road behind them leading Hotshot. The horse was saddled right and tight, her bedroll and pack secured behind the compact English saddle. She was dressed in her sturdy jeans, heavy hiking boots, and half-cloak. Her head was bare and her hair braided. Mitain’s money was tucked deep inside her pack where the crows would not be likely to find it. That was her stake and she knew she had to protect it. He had been generous–no, she told herself firmly. He had been fair. He would make a ton of money selling Allegra’s foals.

The crows’ collective gaze was steady and unnerving. When she was in the war camp, her very first day she had asserted her right to exist by walking up to the ostlers and demanding her place at their campfire, sharing their food. With the same bravado, she walked up to the brothers. They turned to look at Ossen and then at her, then Ossen again. Ossen looked her over.

“Good. You packed light,” she said, her voice noticeably light in comparison to her brothers. Ossen threw her two sacks tied in the middle. Kate caught them with an oof–they were heavy, filled with provisions from the Terrick kitchens. She draped them over Hotshot’s withers.

That was all that was said. Kate turned to look at the big House one last time, gray and weathered under a bright spring sky. Then they headed down the road, its tall elms slightly dusted with pale green, away from Terrick and the life she had thought was hers.

 

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

 

The day Colar came home was a typical spring day in Aeritan, which meant the sun played coy, hiding behind clouds spattering rain. Terrick was a mud wallow, and so were the roads up to the house. The men had to put their shoulders to the wagons twice to get the heavily laden carts out of the mud. Their muscles strained, and so did the cart horses, the feathery hair below their knees black with mud.

Colar’s stomach clenched with nerves. He was no fool; he knew that his parents, and Janye’s too, most likely, would try to keep him and Kate apart. It didn’t matter. He would send her a message, tell her to meet him at the little falls down by the river. It would be private there. Or he could meet her at Callia’s. The midwife would be happy to assist them.

The still-bare trees revealed the house at a fair distance, the elm-lined avenue aiming straight and true at the great pile of stone. Colar’s heart eased. For all that had happened, Terrick was home. His roots were here in the great house where generations had lived and fought and died.

Not his though, not anymore. He was destined for Favor, and Terrick would go to Aevin, or Yare, or even Eri, if the high god touched her the way Lady Wessen and Lady Trieve had been touched.

BOOK: The Crow God's Girl
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