The Crow God's Girl (5 page)

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Authors: Patrice Sarath

BOOK: The Crow God's Girl
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“Fine.”

They rode a bit in silence, the horses nodding in unison. She glanced over at him to find him looking at her. His color was high and his mouth was set as if he were steeling himself for something unpleasant. She looked away because she was going to melt and smile at him and she was still mad.

“I want to show you something,” he said. “It’s my favorite place.”

“Okay.”

 

The river plunged down a series of falls
into a deep brown pool. A rope hung from an overhanging branch, an invitation to jump in. Colar stripped to his smallclothes, Kate to her bra and bloomers, and they dove together in a flat swimmer’s dive.

The water was cool, and she felt as if she could drink it through her skin. She opened her eyes underwater and the sunlight filtered smoothly so that everything was cool and brown and green. Fish darted from her, catching silver fire when they swam into a reflected sunbeam. She pushed to the surface to breathe, flipping her hair back. She treaded water. Colar floated next to her.

“Race you,” she said, and pushed off into a powerful crawl toward the other side of the pool. He passed her underwater, and she laughed. “Cheater,” she called out when he came up for air. He waited for her, grinning, waist deep in the water. She came up to him and found she could stand as well, on a spit of rock that jutted out underwater. The spray from the falls spattered on the ferns and the leaves and she shivered.

“Cold?” He put his arms around her and held her.

She was far from cold now. They kissed, and her knees went weak. She had never wanted to lose herself as much as she did at that moment. Yes, do it, a voice inside her whispered. Make it a done deal. Make sure of him. Save yourself.

It would be so easy to do what her body wanted, what she wanted. She was stubborn though, stubborn with a hard inner core. It had kept her alive in the war camp, when by all rights she should have ended up as low as a camp follower
.
No, not now. Not to catch him
.
With every cell resisting, she pulled away. Colar made a sound of protest against her mouth and she giggled. He took the opportunity to try to kiss her again but she scooted back, almost slipping into the water and he caught her and hauled her back upright, his expression between quizzical and frustrated, and maybe mischievous.

“Why not? You’re my betrothed.”

She stiffened. There it was, right in his choice of words. Not, We’re betrothed.

“Colar, what if I got pregnant?”

“That’s supposed to happen. It’s not like back in your world, where people wait to have babies.”

“And who would attend the birth?”

He laughed. “You’re joking. You just sat and drank vesh with her.”

“Yeah. And if I’m like my mother?”

He grew cautious. “What does that mean?”

“She had a terrible time giving birth to me. Like, she would have died if she weren’t in a hospital.” Her mother told the story with relish, especially after a glass of wine with her girlfriends.

“You’re not your mother.”

“What if I’m like your mother? Three stillbirths, Colar. Callia told me, and she almost died.”

He muttered something that sounded like
damn Callia
. “She didn’t though. And you have to be brave, Kate. No matter when we lie together, you’ll have babies, and the grass god’s daughter will take care of you.”

The only god that had ever taken care of Kate was the soldier’s god, and she didn’t think they were still on speaking terms. The spray from the falls had gotten very cold and her teeth began to chatter. Colar pulled her close again and they stood skin to skin. She warmed again, but her inner core stayed cold.

“Someone in Terrick house stole my panties.”

He was so astonished he laughed out loud.

“It’s true, Colar. Samar came to me with them and she said she found them in your bedroom.”

He drew back now, no longer laughing, looking down at her with shock in his brown eyes.

“Some of the householders don’t like me, and they would do anything to keep us from marrying.”

“They don’t have anything to say about it, you know that. That is my parents’ decision and they already gave us their blessing.”

“A blessing we could lose if the householders prove I’m not good enough for you.” Her voice cut sharp against the sound of the falls. “Colar, everyone loves you here. You’re the lost son who has been returned with the grace of the high god.”

“Don’t say that–”

“And I’m the strangeling. Not the girl who brought you back. The one who is going to steal you forever.”

He was silent for a long time. He never let her go, and she leaned against him, his chest wide and strong. He rested his chin on top of her head, and she tried to take comfort in his embrace.

“I won’t let that happen,” he said at last. She nodded, but her misgivings ran deep. He couldn’t see the treachery, because it wasn’t aimed at him.

In the war camp, the general had put her under his protection. Even so, it only took Kate so far. She had cemented his protection with her own alliances and forged her own place. Terrick was a far cry from the camp with its desperate men and evil crows, but it was bidding fair to be almost as dangerous.

“We should go,” he said, and let her go. His face had become remote, and she knew he was back to being the stranger he had become last night. They swam over to where the horses grazed, and dried off as best they could with a saddle blanket. Kate’s underwear was still damp and her braided hair was wet, but it would dry on the ride home, and she could tuck it under her kerchief and no one would be the wiser.

The shadows had lengthened by the time they made it through the woods to the road, though it was still warm. The sun felt good after the chill swim and she turned her face to it thankfully, closing her eyes and sensing the golden light against her eyelids. They didn’t speak much on the way home. Kate only asked one question. She nodded her chin at the tiny white flowers on the long grasses alongside the road, still giving off their clean, grassy scent.

“What are those called?”

Colar followed her gaze. “Ladies’ bower.”

She nodded. Ladies bower.
Dear Mom and Dad
, she composed in her head.
Aeritan has these pretty little flowers like white stars. I’ve never seen anything like them.

Kate kept the letter in her mind when they got home and brought the horses to the stable. A stableboy, a stocky lad of about ten years old, came running to take the reins.

“Young sir, Lady Beatra wants you to come straight away for the evening meal.” He gave Kate a curious glance and she responded with a smile. To her relief the boy smiled back. He looked like Drabian and she figured that he was his son.
Well, the stable staff likes me anyway.

“Thank you, Stelpin.”

She followed Colar into the house. The stone shadows fell over them, and a chill descended again, reminding her that she was clammy and wet. The great hall was empty except for the two of them. For once, Kate thought.

“I’m going to change,” she told him in a low voice.

“Good idea,” he said as quietly. She turned to go but he took hold of her arm and pulled her back. He was gentle about it, as he cupped her cheek with his hand, but that was it. They were back in his world now, he as good as told her, and the only affection she could get from him was this. Maybe it was enough, Kate thought. Maybe, knowing everything he put behind it, made the simple touch as powerful as an embrace for all the world to see. So she tilted her head to capture the feel of it and then they stepped back, and she went straight up to her room.

On the way up the stairs, she stopped abruptly. A householder, one of Torvan’s servants, stood there with an armful of linens and looked at her. She was a young maid, and she watched Kate without a word. The girl’s eyes flicked from Kate’s damp kerchief down to her hiking boots. Her mouth curved in a scornful smile. She didn’t move out of Kate’s way. Kate looked up at her.

“You know,” Kate said, exasperated, “I can play too.” The girl snorted. Her name was Thani, she remembered. Kate shrugged elaborately, and took a step forward. The girl startled, and yielded, stumbling backward up the stairs. Kate kept walking and the girl was hard pressed to turn sideways so she could get out of the way.

Well, Kate thought, when she made it to her room and closed the door, her face burning and heart pounding hard. That was kind of fun.

She changed quickly, rubbing at her hair and rebraiding it before tucking it back up under the kerchief. She drew on the woolen hose, the scratchy warmth feeling good against her still chilled flesh, and managed the stays and the skirt, with a dry tunic over all. She laid her damp clothes out on top of her chest. If no one touched them, no one would know that they were wet, and it looked far more innocent than hanging them before the fire. Kate remembered her panties and looked for them under the mattress. They were still there where she had crumpled them, and she pushed them back farther for safety, almost beyond where her fingers could reach. The bra was still wet, so she couldn’t hide it until it dried, but once it did, it was going right under the mattress with the panties.

Secure from her enemies for the moment, she sighed and relaxed. No mirror, but she felt that she looked a proper Aeritan girl, and not like an American girl who had just gone practically skinny dipping with her boyfriend. She had a few minutes. She could write a letter to her parents.

Kate sat at the desk by the window and uncapped the vial of ink. She drew the previous page over and dipped the pen.

Dear Mom–

She stopped, stared. Her vision blurred and the letters crawled over the page, making her nauseous. The pen slipped and spattered an illegible symbol on the page.

“No,” Kate said to the empty room, and she imagined the stone walls pressed in to hear her distress. Even though she was expecting it, it was still a blow.

Her brain had reset. She couldn’t write in English anymore.

 

 

CHAPTER THREE

 

 

A week later, a courier galloped up on a lathered horse, his colors proclaiming him on Council business. That night at dinner, after the blessing and they all sat, Lord Terrick looked around at his family.

“The Council has been called. We’re to meet at Salt in a half-month.” He looked at his eldest son. “Colar, you will come with me.”

Kate didn’t think her tiny protest escaped her lips. Still, the family looked at her. Dammit, Kate.

“Forgive me, lord father,” she managed. He nodded at her, his face unreadable in the candlelight. He turned to his wife.

“I know that we leave you at a full and busy time, but I am confident in you, my lady.”

Lady Beatra’s expression was both calm and long-suffering. “You should be, you know,” she said. “I’ve managed without you often enough.”

“Aevin, you will continue to train with old Maksin, for I will take Raymon and his men with me. I expect you to take your place as second son at the next Council. Yare, you are to continue with your lessons with your foster sister, as are you, Eri. I look forward to seeing what you have learned when I return.”

“Yes, lord father,” the children said obediently.

“Foster daughter,” Lord Terrick said, and Kate stiffened, hoping that went unnoticed in the dim light.

“Yes sir.”

“Teach them well that they may be a credit to you and Terrick.”

“Yes sir.”

 

Kate and Colar had no chance to talk
before he rode out with his father. She and the rest of the family, along with the household, watched them go in the gray of the early morning, a light fog floating over the road and the field, a golden light above it. The fog would burn off and it would be another fine, late summer day.

Watching the men prepare for their journey reminded her of the camp. The horses snorted, eager to be off in the cool morning, and the men and their gear had an aroma of leather, oil, sweat, and metal. They ate and drank in the saddle, checked their weapons, for this was Aeritan and Aeritan was always on the verge of war, and waited for their lord. Lord Terrick mounted, his face betraying his stiffness only the smallest bit. Lady Beatra came over and lifted up the stirrup cup to him and he sipped, a token gesture. Then he said something to his wife, too low for anyone to hear, and she responded the same way.

Lord Terrick smiled, transforming him from a fearsome man into a handsome one. Lady Beatra smiled back. It was the most public private moment Kate had ever witnessed. She glanced over to see if Colar was watching, but he was talking with Raymon, forearms resting on the saddlebow, the lieutenant nodding.

Then Lady Beatra brought the cup to all the men in turn, Kate shuddering at the thought of the germs, and finished with her son. She spoke privately to him as well, and he looked straight at Kate. She flushed, and lifted her fingers, waving the tiniest bit. Colar gave her the same kind of salute with his gloved hand, and then they were off, clattering out of the courtyard.

Six weeks, she thought. It would be autumn by the time he came back. She drew a breath to fortify herself. Well. She had a lot to do before then–teach Eri and Yare, learn the housewifery tasks that Lady Beatra and Samar had put her to, and even, now and again, visit Callia. If she was going to be a doctor, as she had told her parents, learning midwifery was a good place to start.

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