The Crow God's Girl (31 page)

Colar idled on the palazzo during the
Council adjournment, at loose ends while the lords waited for Lord Camrin to show up. He didn’t want to talk to his father, his wife, or his wife’s family. He just wanted to be by himself in the spring sunshine. Let them make alliances without me, he thought. I have nothing to barter.

“Ho, Terrick!”

Colar turned around at the insolent shout. It was the crow girl, leading a familiar horse toward them from the city gate. The girl–he’d forgotten her name–stopped in front of them. Hotshot the horse swiveled his ears at Colar and whickered. The crow girl handed over a letter and the lead rope.

“Kett said you wanted these.” Her words were gruff, disrespectful, as was the look she gave him.

Colar felt a stab of irritation. This was the crow who had helped saved Yare, masqueraded as a boy. She still looked boyish, her tangled hair standing out from her head, her face smudged and dirty. Her clothes were masculine and she was rangy and skinny, but he could see, now that he knew to look for it, her feminine figure. He took the letter and the lead rope, Hotshot waiting patiently now with him, and nodded the girl off. The letter had Eri’s name on it, and something else: To Erinye Terrick, Terrick House, Terrick, Aeritan.

Colar smiled. Eri wouldn’t get it, but he did. He remembered seeing the same type of direction on letters the Mosslands received. He flipped the letter over and sure enough, in tiny letters on the back, From Kate Temia, Temia House, Temia, Aeritan.

She named herself Temia, not Mossland. Oh, Kate, he thought. He hoped she knew what a dangerous game she was playing.

The crow girl hadn’t waited, but had turned back toward the gates. He wondered if he should open the letter before sending it on to Eri. No, Kate wouldn’t write anything dishonorable to the little girl–that was one thing he could be sure of. She loved Eri as if she were her own sister. He glanced up at Hotshot. The horse whickered at him again, and he patted the plain gelding on the neck. “All right, boy. You look as if you’ve been missing your grain. The sooner we send you home to Eri, the better for you.”

He wouldn’t open the letter, but he was sure his father would. Colar tucked it into his shirt. He’d send it off with a dispatch rider first thing. He clucked to the horse and led him back to where the Terrick men were quartered.

Lady Wessen’s guest quarters overlooked
a fine view of the woodlands and fields surrounding Salt. From the small table by the window Kate could see the encampment of her ragtag army. It looked small, insignificant. There were barely one thousand crows, and that included children. Although more crows drifted in over the last few days, she had to admit they didn’t look very threatening.

The only reason the Council hadn’t attempted to wipe them out was because their own full armies weren’t in place yet. And Terrick and Kenery still wanted to hold onto Favor and so their forces were divided.

Don’t relax just yet, Kate–you might not get out of here alive.

Lady Wessen followed her gaze and raised an elegant eyebrow. She was lean and narrow-faced like Lady Sarita, their resemblance strong, but Lady Wessen’s beauty was blurred by time.

“I must say, I’ve enjoyed this little interlude you’ve provided us,” Lady Wessen said in her crisp voice.

“My pleasure,” Kate said, cautiously. A serving woman brought them vesh and food and Kate’s stomach grumbled. Lady Wessen served her, as per custom, and Kate waited for her to begin to eat before she took her own bites, again per custom. The plate was filled with corncakes, and a spicy cheese dish, and a deep green vegetable that tasted sweet and peppery at the same time. She tried not to inhale her food, but Lady Wessen snorted.

“Eat up, girl. You’ve been on campaign rations, I can tell. You’ll need all your strength for what comes next.”

Kate wiped her mouth fastidiously on the linen napkin. “May I ask, Lady Wessen, what comes next?”

“What do you want to happen next?”

“I don’t want war.” She surprised herself with her own vehemence. “I want to be able to go back to Temia and rebuild.” She sighed as if sad. “I’m afraid my crows are predisposed to fight, though.”

Lady Wessen cackled. “Well played, girl. I knew I liked you. But there are things you should know about us. You are a nothing chit, as Kenery said. And in the end, our loyalty is to us. Even Kenery has more claim on me than you do, no matter how amusing I find you. If you don’t find a way to make yourself and Temia indispensible, and soon, we will lose our patience.”

Kate set down her spoon. She wiped her mouth again, this time needlessly. “Noted, Lady Wessen. But if you expect me to just roll over and submit to the Council’s whims, you’ve underestimated me.” She leaned forward. “I hope we can be friends and allies, because I would like to be able to rely on your advice. But you had better not commit your troops against mine, because my crows will crush you.”

Lady Wessen’s eyes darkened, and her mouth tightened in anger, deepening the lines that scored her wrinkled face. Kate felt her own anger rise. Who was this autocratic old woman to dictate to her what she could and could not do?

“You don’t want me for an enemy.”

“Likewise, ma’am.” A part of her marveled at her newfound certainty. The rest of her was nothing but bloody singlemindedness. She would not back down.

“Listen to me, girl–”

“Lady Temia,” Kate corrected. “Kate Temia, ma’am.” She didn’t stumble in the slightest over her new surname. “I am lord of Temia, and leader of the crows.”

Summoning all her dignity, she stood and bowed, lord to lord. “Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Wessen. You remind me very much of your daughter. I see where she got her singular strength.”

“Sit down.”

Kate sat so fast her chair moved. How does she do that? she thought, a bit despairingly. Lady Wessen smirked the slightest bit.

“You haven’t finished your dinner. I never let a growing girl leave the table without eating.”

Kate glared, stubborn, then picked up her spoon and her knife.

“You asked what comes next. I think I’ve given Lord Terrick the escape route he needs to back away from Favor and still keep his honor. Too bad for his son, of course, tied to Kenery, but that’s neither here nor there. So if the rest of the lords do not behave like buffoons, and if Lady Trieve can keep from asking for reparations, we might get out of this with no bloodshed. All you must do is control your army as you cross back over the river to your remote House. I expect to hear nothing of you until next year’s Council.”

A reprieve and a chance to build and grow. She couldn’t ask for more. Out loud she said, diplomatically, “I see.” She concentrated on cleaning her plate and when she was done, she drank her vesh. “I think I can do that.”

Lady Wessen gave her a sharp look. “Good. Because that is a deal I can bring back to Council. And in turn, here is what you will do, Lady Temia. You will bring your crows in. No longer will they roam Aeritan with impunity. They–and you–have scorned the laws of the Council for one hundred years. Bring them in, take them home, and make sure they don’t cross the river again.”

Kate felt the color drain from her face. It was impossible. Keep the crows from wandering across Aeritan, as they had been doing for generations? We are the true heirs of Aeritan, Ossen had said. The entire country was their birthright. And who was to say, once the crows were pent up in Temia, that all the forces of the Council would not march north, cross the river, and slaughter them on the plains?

She chose her words carefully, but still stumbled. “And if I ca– won’t?”

Lady Wessen did not smile. Her words were flat, dead certain.

“The alternative is the second destruction of House Temia and death of your crows. You are hanging by a thread, girl, and you have no choice.”

So it was to be war–not over Favor, but for the right of House Temia to exist as more than an internment camp for its people. What am I going to tell Grigar?

Kate stood and gave Lady Wessen a bow.

“There are always choices, Lady Wessen, even when both are hard.”

“Don’t be a fool, girl. Don’t choose war.”

She hadn’t, but her crows would fight anyway.

Sound floated in through the window, borne along by the warming spring winds. Kate frowned and looked out; so did Lady Wessen. The rising cries of men, and the clash of weapons brought them to their feet.

Kate gasped. The qui
et camp below roiled
with activity. Crows ran everywhere, shouting. The rhythmic keening shrieks floated up within earshot, and she felt sick to her stomach.

Her crows had gone malcra.

Salt was in chaos. The great palazzo thronged with soldiers and frightened servants and townspeople. Kate scanned the scene from the stairway to the guest quarters, desperate for some sign of her people. There! She spotted Grigar in the crowd, and filled her lungs and screamed his name. Miraculously he heard her and came for her, grabbing her arm. They didn’t speak, just ran toward the gates, pushing through the crowd. Men at arms from all the Houses were everywhere, responding to the madness. If she didn’t regain control... her nausea intensified.

They took the stairs down into the city two at a time. Townspeople were in a panic, and the streets were thronged with soldiers. No crows yet, though. Thank heaven for small favors, she thought.

“Grigar, fill me in,” she panted.

Grigar yanked her aside, out of the way of two hands of soldiers wearing the gray and gold of Saraval. “There’s a threat to one of us. Balafray and the others are in camp, and I came to get you.”

“Are they malcra?”

Stupid question. He didn’t bother to answer and kept up the pace. She had a stitch in her side from running so soon after eating. She stumbled and pressed her hand against her ribs. She was going to throw up if they didn’t stop soon, but she didn’t have time to throw up. If she lost the crows, House Temia was truly through.

“Soldier’s god, Grigar. How do I stop them?”

He scanned for a route, and pulled her behind him. “You might not be able to. Come on, chick.”

They were buffeted by the crowds as they threaded their way toward the gate. They were the only ones going out of the city, and she supposed that might be a good thing. No one gave them a second look, a crow and a lady, although Kate’s clothes were bedraggled now, her finery dingy and torn, so there was nothing to show that she was noble.

The sound of crossbow bolts overhead made her duck reflexively. Grigar did too, covering her. Balafray probably told him to protect me, she thought dazedly. Way to go, Kate. Lady Temia can’t protect her own people.

She pushed away the guilt and the shame. She had to get control back.

At the gates, Salt’s men were pushing people away. Kate thought of Lady Wessen and tried to project authority.

“Let me through,” she ordered.

“Are you mad, girl? There are crows out there. No one goes out.”

“I’m Lady Temia. Let me through.”

The captain stared at her, then waved them over to the side gate. “Go through there.”

A soldier guarding the postern pulled it aside for Kate and Grigar and they ducked through, the soldier following. The walls surrounding the city were thick. It was like walking through a dark tunnel. At the other end she could see light coming through the grate. She ran toward it, stumbling over the uneven ground.

“Wait,” the soldier said. He fumbled with a big iron key and unlocked the gate. He opened it just a bit to let them squeeze through. Kate went through, then Grigar, and they heard the gate slam shut behind them, barred and locked again.

The malcra keening of the crows rose around them as the men ran toward the walls of the city as if they wanted to tear it down with their bare hands.

Another flight of crossbow bolts sang over the walls, and men screamed and fell. Grigar pushed her against the wall, out of the way of the bolts.

“Stop protecting me!” she shouted, irrationally. “I have to stop them!”

“You’ll get yourself killed!”

Maybe she went malcra herself because she elbowed him hard, taking him by surprise and he fell back. Before Grigar could recover, she made straight for the lone figure in the middle of the camp, the crow king himself, oblivious to the chaos and the danger. His long horsetail waved in the breeze, and the cloak draped off his bony shoulders. He stood with his staff raised, as if he were a concert conductor, an ululating keening rippling from his throat.

He turned to look at her as she bowled into him, pushing him off balance to the ground. He was surprisingly light, as if his bones were made of air, but he was strong. They tumbled to the ground, wrestling.

“MAKE THEM STOP!” The force of the scream scraped her throat. He growled and went to bite her, his brown and jagged teeth snapping at her face. She dodged his teeth and pushed his head toward the ground, the strength coming from somewhere outside of her. He tried to bite her hand and she kneed him in the groin. He gave an ugly groan, and she reared back and punched him. Blood spattered. Someone pulled her off of him and she struggled, panting, until Grigar said in her ear, his voice almost gentle, “Stop.”