We can always walk away, she thought. Just fade back to Temia, and let the rest of Aeritan sort it out. Except that they would be sitting ducks. The Council had no qualms about ganging up on any one of the Houses–witness what happened to Red Gold Bridge when it went renegade the year before. They had to establish alliances within the Council or the fledgling House would not survive.
All that was running through her head while she smiled and chatted, and listened, and ate as genteelly as possible.
The sky was dark overhead and only a few lamps burned on the palazzo when they made their way back to the crow camp. The fires of the crow army burned low and peacefully. The men and women stood guard, the oldsters and the children tucked away in rough tents. They were vulnerable; Kate felt tension spring up again just thinking about it. This was what she needed alliances for, to protect them.
Her musty, damp tent provided respite from the cold night air, with its small brazier and lamp throwing out welcome warmth. She sat down on her bedroll, which was doubled up against the chill damp of the ground. A conquering lord’s pavilion it was not. She groaned. The day had been almost too much.
Ossen, still energetic, flopped down next to her.
“Are we going to fight for Favor?” she said brightly.
“Crow god, I hope not,” Kate said. She tried to draw off her boot, but it got stuck. Grigar knelt and pulled it off. He held out his hand impatiently for her other foot. Her cheeks heated but she put out her boot, and he took that one off too. No one else noticed the surprisingly intimate moment. She tried to pull her foot away without making a scene. He held on for a second, and then let her go. She drew her feet in and sat cross-legged. “At this moment, I don’t care what happens to Favor or Lady Trieve, or anyone, for that matter.”
Balafray snorted. “The lady is a hard one,” he said. “She will not honor her word.”
“She won’t give her word,” Kate said. “She doesn’t want to commit.”
“We don’t need her,” the scarred crow growled.
“Yes, we do,” Kate and Grigar chorused. They looked at each other. “We do,” Kate repeated firmly. “They don’t like us, Balafray. We changed everything. We have to secure our position, or it’s back to being chased all over Aeritan.”
Balafray glared at both of them, united against him. He stomped off.
“They won’t find us,” Ossen said dreamily. “We’ll take the crow’s road.” Her eyes were closed, and she looked as if she were falling asleep.
Kate wished she could sleep too, but she was still too wound up. She began to take down her braids, unwinding the pearls and the netting carefully. Grigar sat back and watched her.
“How do you think I did?” she asked lightly, trying to hide her discomfort. She imagined she could still feel the warmth of his hand on her foot.
“I think you are playacting a part you don’t take seriously enough yet.”
She stopped in mid action, her mouth open.
“You aren’t a lady. You aren’t a crow. You’ve taken Balafray’s ambitions and made them your own, because they fit some mad dream you have of revenge. You’re likely to get us all killed. Not you though. You can just go back to their world.” He was bitter, so bitter.
Anger welled up, and when she spoke her voice was almost a growl. “What the hell do you know about it?”
“I know what I see and what I hear. You enjoy bandying words with the Council, and you don’t realize they don’t take you seriously. You heard the lady tonight–she called you a precocious child.”
“I am trying–”
“You hope we don’t go to war? Who will fight it, if we do? You? Hardly.”
“Grigar–”
He got to his feet and looked down at her, his shoulders hunched to fit inside the tent. “In the name of the crow god, stop playing at this.”
Alone in the tent, except for Ossen snoring away, Kate looked down at the handful of pearls gleaming in the golden lamplight. Sickness roiled in her stomach.
Grigar was right. The crows were more vulnerable than ever, unless she could pull out some kind of protection for them. It wasn’t enough to bandy words, as he put it.
And she was only seventeen years old, and in way over her head.
The second day of Council dawned clear, the gray light trickling through the canvas of her tent. Kate sat by the brazier, a piece of flat wood on her lap, writing in her most careful hand on a leaf of precious paper.
“What are you doing?” Ossen asked sleepily, sitting up on the blanket. Her hair was in a wild tangle and she yawned, big and wide. She had been a welcome source of warmth during the cold night. Kate hadn’t slept much. Instead, she had stared up at the musty tent fabric and thought hard and long about how to fix things. It wasn’t until the night had gotten even colder and darker, and her body ached with an effort to stay warm, that a glimmer of a solution came to her and she let herself go to sleep.
“Do you remember the merchant at Terrick? I’m writing a letter to him, asking for help.”
The crow girl’s eyes were keen and sharp. “How can a merchant help?”
“Merchants have money, and I need money to run a country.”
“What are you going to give him in return?”
“Well,” Kate said. “That’s where Balafray and Tamra and the crow king will have to agree with what I’m doing.”
Temia was wealthy. The history of Aeritan that she had read in Terrick’s library out of desultory boredom spoke of ancient mines and old trade routes leading from the northern part of Aeritan. A merchant who was used to trading with Brythern and other countries might want a crack at some of that wealth.
A merchant who was willing to overpay for a horse might also have seen that was a good investment as well, even if he didn’t know exactly how it would play out. Mitain was charming, handsome, and above all smart. He hadn’t paid so much for Allegra for her future foals.
He was buying her good will. She was willing to be bought, if it could save Temia–that was, if the clan leaders agreed, the matriarchs and the patriarchs, and the crow king, though he was more of a spiritual leader, as best she could tell.
She finished the letter and let the ink dry while she got dressed. Yesterday she had made her impression–today was a workday. Kate dressed in her fine clothes but she left the pearls in their little velvet bag, instead braiding her hair in two severe plaits and doubling them up behind her ears. She was glad she didn’t have a looking glass.
“You look old,” said Ossen with disdain.
Kate laughed. “That’s the point. Ossen, can you bring Ivar in?”
Ossen made another face. “Why?”
“Because I want him to take the letter to Saraval for me.”
Once again she wished she had fast riders, but there you go–that cost money. Ivar was the fastest runner among the crows. Maybe, with Mitain bankrolling the House of Temia, she would be able to build an Aeritan postal system.
Better keep that thought under wraps. It smacked of ambition.
“Why can’t I go? I’m faster than Ivar.” Ossen scowled at the insult of being passed over.
Kate knew that Ossen was far more capable than girls her age–she was far more capable than Kate–but it didn’t stop her from being protective.
“I’d miss you too much,” she said, trying to deflect her.
Ossen was having none of it. “You’re turning me into a girl,” she said flatly.
Kate sighed. “Ossen–it can be really dangerous for you to be by yourself.”
Ossen folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. Kate remembered how the two of them took on the kidnappers in the woods.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” she tried.
Nothing.
“Grigar wouldn’t want you to go.” Now she was really grasping at straws.
“Grigar is an old woman, just like you are. Balafray’s the eldest and he would let me go. He’d want me to go. He told me I knew the crow’s road better than anyone exc
ept him.”
And Balafray wasn’t patronizing about it either. Ossen idolized her big brother, barely tolerated Grigar, and was dismissive of Ivar and Arlef.
“Look. What if you do this instead? I need someone to bring Hotshot to Terrick quarters for me.”
Goodness knew she didn’t want to do it. She didn’t know what would be worse, seeing Colar or coming face to face with his father.
“Why don’t you have Arlef do it?”
“Because it’s important. Come on, Ossen, it’s not second best. I need you.”
Ossen tried to stay stubborn but Kate could tell she had her.
Two down, she thought, climbing the stairs to the palazzo for her second day of Council, escorted by Balafray, Grigar, and Arlef. Temia might survive this great adventure after all. The other lords and their escorts milled on the plaza, waiting for the gong to signal the advent of Council. Kate bowed to Lady Sarita and Lady Trieve and a few others, and scanned the crowd casually. There was Lord Terrick, and she hastily turned away; she didn’t want to catch his eye.
And there was Colar and his wife, Janye Kenery. They stood together, her hand on his arm. Colar was in conversation with someone else, so he didn’t see her, but Janye did. She gave Kate a challenging look, her haughty expression visible even from the distance, and turned her husband so his back was completely to Kate.
Blood rushed to Kate’s face. Grigar followed her gaze but said nothing, only gave her an encouraging tap on her shoulder. Balafray was less sensitive.
“Don’t worry, girl,” he rasped. “We’ll find you another man to be your lord. A good bedding and you’ll forget all about the boy.”
Ewwwww. “Soldier’s god, Balafray, be less gross next time, okay?”
Arlef laughed, but shut up when Grigar glared at him.
The gong sounded and they headed in with the rest of the crowd. With a deep breath, she marched in and took her place at the table. This was not the time to be mooning over Colar or anyone else. The fate of Temia hung in the balance.
She wasn’t the only one who spent the first hour of Council bored. Lords Shay and Saraval yawned several times. Lord Camrin didn’t even show up. Kate made sure to accept wine this time but drank very little, and when a servant came around she asked for water. To her surprise, Lord Tharp grumped, “We should all be drinking more water and less wine, especially this sour vintage. Salt, have them bring pitchers.”
“Of course, Tharp. My dear,” he said to Kate, “You will reform us all.”
She gave a polite nod, knowing that coming from Salt it wasn’t a compliment. As if his words had woken everyone up, the lords stirred.
“Reform isn’t what she’s after, Salt,” Kenery said, his tone querulous. “Let’s decide the matter of Favor, right now. Then we can all go home.”
Salt looked surprised. He glanced at Kate. “What else can she be after?”
Kate took a sip of her cold water, so rich with minerals she felt as if her bones were strengthening even as she sat there.
“Recognition for Temia, which the Council has given, my thanks to you all,” she said. “And justice for Favor, which is still to be decided.”
“What’s Favor to you, girl?” said Kenery. “This is just to get back at Terrick, and that’s all. You’re a nothing chit who leads a rabble of crows, sticking her nose in where it’s not wanted.” He leaned across the table and pointed a meaty finger at her. “You should be taught a lesson.”
And who’s going to teach me? You? She kept her teeth closed on that one.
“And may I ask, Lord Kenery, what is Favor to you?” Her voice remained soft. She looked around the table. Shay and Saraval had stopped yawning. “Everyone knows that you saw an opportunity to restore your good name by linking it to Terrick, especially after your double-cross in the winter war. You have the disgust of all the lords, and none of them would trust you to hold their horse for them. I hear Lord Terrick keeps you on a short leash.”
Lady Trieve had been a font of information.
Kenery choked. “You are dead, girl,” he managed. “You. Are. Dead.” I will see to it that your crows are slaughtered and your land sowed with salt forever and ever.”
A frisson of panic threatened her. With all the force she could summon, Kate kept her expression calm, hoping no one could see her reaction, though her hands were clenched under the table.
“No, you will not,” Lady Wessen said from her end of the table. “Kenery, everything the girl said has been said to your face every Council meeting. You’d sell your own mother for even the slightest advantage.”
“He already has,” muttered someone.
Lady Wessen looked over at Lord Terrick. “Roth, I knew you when you were a boy and your father was lord, and he would wonder at you. You are a fool over this Favor business, and to get yourself embroiled with Kenery, no less! I’ve sat on this Council for decades, and I’ve never seen such idiocy. It’s as if you all got frostbite on the brain during the winter war. And you!” She turned to Lord Tharp, who looked a little startled at being addressed. “Starting that war over my daughter. Don’t think I’ve forgotten. Well, I’m ashamed of all of you.”
They were all abashed now. Kate glanced from face to face, swallowing her smile.
“I can’t believe you are taking this upstart’s side,” Kenery blustered with a bit of a whine. Wessen rounded on him.
“A fool chit of a girl? Don’t be ridiculous. I am trying to bring you all to your senses. No one wants another war. Terrick, get your men out of Favor. Lady Trieve, you caused this by being ambivalent about your plans for your ancestral House. Had you been forceful from the start, Terrick would never have gotten such a worm in his brain in the first place.”
She turned to Kate. “And you. Don’t you get ideas. You’re playing with fire, girl, and you have no idea what you are up against. I don’t know what those crows of yours told you, even the handsome one who is no crow at all, I wager, but this is the Council of Aeritan. We will unite and turn on you if you even make one whisper of trying to become High King. I have no qualms about seeing your pretty little head on a platter if you get ambitious.”
Ho.Ly. Shit. She didn’t doubt it. Kate managed a meek, “Yes, ma’am.”
Wessen gave the table a final glare. “Good. Let’s vote. Terrick out of Favor, all supporting...”
Salt held up a hand. “Lady Wessen. Once again you have brought us all to our senses. But may I put in a plea for adjournment before our vote? Camrin is missing and I’d rather we make sure nothing has happened to him before we continue.”
Wessen snorted. “His loss.”
“No.” That was Terrick. “His vote matters to me. I want him here.”
There was a collective groan around the table.
“Fine,” Wessen snapped. “Drag him in, by the scruff of his neck if you have to. Don’t let this be one of your tricks, Salt. I mean it.”
As their chairs scraped back, Lady Wessen snapped her fingers at Kate. “You and I are going to have a little talk.” She swept off without waiting, Kate scurrying in her wake and trying to hide her trepidation.
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 h
er 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.
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