The Crow God's Girl (16 page)

The room warmed only marginally. Kate put on extra socks and grabbed her cloak, sitting herself at the writing table by the window, securely shuttered but with cold air seeping through nonetheless.

Kate pulled out her letters and dipped the quill in ink, spitting in the inkwell to loosen it up.

She set pen to paper and began. At once the pen made the shape of Aeritan letters. Kate closed her eyes and made a noise of frustration. She could see what she wanted to write in her mind’s eye. It was all there in her head. The problem was, when she tried to write, it came out in Aeritan.

So what would happen if she tried to write with her eyes closed?

Well, for one thing you’ll make a mess, she scolded herself. But if she closed her eyes, she could see the letters somehow.

“I have to try,” she whispered. Kate dipped the pen, set it on the page, and tried to aim in a straight line. She took a breath and closed her eyes.

Dear Mom and Dad.

She scrawled laboriously, her hand shaking, queasiness bringing sweat to her forehead despite the chill. Kate opened her eyes and her vision blurred at the strange letters crossing the page. The line wandered and she could tell the characters were oddly shaped, but best of all, they were illegible.

If she closed her eyes and focused on the words, she could write to her parents in a language they could understand.

A sense of peace came over her as if they were right there, hovering over her shoulder. Kate dipped the quill and closed her eyes, telling her parents everything one hard-fought letter at a time.

Her hand was shaking and her neck and head ached in concentration by the time Eri woke and stretched.

“Kett?”

“Merry Christmas, Eri. I have a present for you and your brothers. Let’s go wake ‘em up so we can celebrate.”

They bundled up and tiptoed down the hall, Eri practically jumping out of her skin at the new adventure.

Kate had never been in the boys’ bedroom. When the three boys were home they shared a bed, but now it was just Aevin and Yare, and the bedroom smelled of boy funk, and gear, and sweaty socks and dirty boots. Eri jumped on the bed, giggling, shouting,

“Marry Craismus!”

Aevin was shocked, sweeping his brown hair out of his eyes. He pulled the covers up around him and Yare. The
y
both wore long nightshirts.

“What?! Eri, what are you doing? Kett, you shouldn’t be in here.”

Kate jumped on the bed with Eri, sitting at the foot of the bed against the huge bedpost.

“It’s Christmas, Aevin. No rules on Christmas.”

The boys were more receptive to the idea of presents, dumping out the little stockings on the bed while Kate told them the Christmas story, both the secular version that she had grown up with, about Santa Claus and his elves and reindeer, and the religious one about the birth of a king who was also a god. They all tried the whistles and she had to shush them from making too much noise.

“Would you like
to learn some Christmas songs?
” she said hopefully. They glanced around at one another and shrugged. Kate took that as a yes. She drew in a breath and started on “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing.”

She didn’t have much of a voice, and she had to sing quietly, but the children listened intently. When she was done, she had to wipe back tears. Gray light trickled in through the shuttered windows, and the fire burned brightly, though no one had brought it back to life. That was weird, but she felt both too good and too homesick to think about it much. The room felt comfortable and peaceful and for a few moments they sat crosslegged in silence on the lumpy, messy bed.

“I like your god, Kett,” Yare said, his cheek bulging with nutmeats.

“Thanks, Yare,” Kate said.

“Kett,” Eri said, putting her hand in Kate’s. “I don’t want you to go away. You should stay with us.”

How could she explain it so the little girl could understand? The fresh pain and humiliation of seeing Colar with his bride would just be the icing on a bitter cake.

“Aevin!” Yare shouted, spewing a mouthful. “You should marry Kett! That way she could stay.”

Aevin swatted him. “Yare, shut up!”

Kate felt a visceral sense of horror. Aevin was a kid. Although, not really. He was only two years younger than she was.
No. No, no, no.
To put an end to her mental whiplash, she said firmly, “No, Yare. Aevin and I, we’re like brother and sister. We can’t get married. He needs to marry someone he wants to marry.”

Aevin turned bright red. A split second later Kate figured it out. Quiet Aevin, in the shadow of his big brother and his fearsome father, happened to have a crush on his brother’s ex-fiancee, and she had just trampled on his feelings.
Way to go, Kate. Way to go.
She was the stupidest girl on two planets.

The room lost its coziness. Embarrassed, Kate uncrossed her legs, and hopped off the bed, avoiding Aevin’s gaze.

“Um, right, we should go. Come on Eri, let’s get ready for breakfast. Merry Christmas, you guys. See you at breakfast.”

When they went back to their room, Thani was carrying a basket of wood to Lady Beatra’s room. She looked with wide eyes at the door they just came out of. Eri giggled.

“Marry Craismus, Thani!”

Kate walked past her. “And a happy New Year,” she said, and closed the door behind her.

Later that day, Kate was teaching Eri and Yare
their lessons when a householder ducked in to the study.

“Girl, Lord Terrick and Lady Beatra want you. Er, they ask you to clean up.”

Kate made a face and tried to wipe ink off her hands in vain. While the children had been practicing their sums, she had been writing in her journal to her parents. Writing with her eyes closed had gotten easier with practice, though she still got a headache if she went on for too long, and she made a mess each time. “You guys finish these problems and leave them for me to check over.” She followed the householder, wondering what they could want with her now.

In her room she was greeted with a surprise. Someone had lit the fire and a steaming half-bath waited on the hearth for her. Another surprise lay on the bed. A dress, dyed dark green and trimmed with fur, draped over the bed, a matching kerchief folded on top of it. Gold thread embroidered on the bodice caught the firelight. Warm felted boots were placed beneath it. Kate couldn’t help it. She went over and held it against herself. It was warm. Beautiful. She imagined herself in it, and knew that it would fit well and she would look like a lord’s daughter, her hair neatly tucked under a kerchief, her face shining.

Kate sighed. What game was Lord Terrick playing now?

Kate rapped on Lord Terrick’s study door
and on his curt invitation stepped in. She could see his surprise and growing fury as he noted that she wore the same drab, shapeless clothing that she always wore and her hair was badly braided and remained uncovered. Another man sat with them in sumptuous traveling clothes, and he was in the act of standing as she entered, pausing half-way through in surprise. He straightened, but Kate noted the dubious look he gave Lord Terrick and Lady Beatra.

She gave the little curtsey. “Yes sir?” she said.

“You were supposed to clean yourself before coming here,” Lord Terrick growled.

“Why?”

Lady Beatra jumped in. “Child. This is Mitain, a merchant holder from Saraval. He wishes to make your acquaintance.”

Kate turned and curtseyed again. “Mr. Mitain. A pleasure to meet you.”

“I, uh, greetings to you, Kett of Terrick.” He was good looking, in his late twenties or so, with dark curly hair and a spade beard. Wealthy? She looked at his boots, as she had learned to do in Aeritan. Sure enough, they weren’t Hermes or anything, but they were pretty fine.

“Mossland.”

“Er–”

“My House is Mossland, Mr. Mitain. I am sorry you came all this way in terrible weather to meet me. It was a waste of your time.”

“Girl,” Terrick said, and he stood and took two steps toward her as if to slap her. Kate flinched but she held her ground

“Oh so what, Lord Terrick, are you going to hit me now?”

“Roth!” Lady Beatra said.

Mitain took a step forward. “Lord Terrick, I don’t think–”

“Girl, you have tried my patience the last time. You will obey me in this, or I will have you thrown from this House and made renegade.”

She clenched and unclenched her fists and when she could speak her voice trembled only a bit.

“You went back on a promise to Colar and me and now you’re angry because I won’t make it easy on you. Well don’t worry, Lord Terrick. When the thaws come, as I told you before, I’m leaving, and you won’t be uncomfortable any more.” She turned to Mitain, gave him a curt nod, and left.

Her composure lasted until she got to her room, still with the dress on the bed and the small tub on the hearth, its water lukewarm now. Kate locked the door behind her so Eri couldn’t come in, and slid down with her back to the door for good measure. She was shaking so hard her knees gave out.

Oh god, oh god, she thought, unable to think of which god to pray to. How many would they offer her to? Would they force her to marry? Lord Terrick was certainly angry enough to want to.

“Soldier’s god, god of weather, whoever,” she said. “A break in the weather would be nice so I can get out of here.”

After the blizzard struck a day later, stranding everyone in Terrick and burying the small livestock barns under mountains of snow, she remembered that the god of weather was the grass god, whose daughter Kate had consistently dissed every waking moment of her life in Aeritan.

Terrick became the refuge of many travelers
stuck on the road. They were taken in, given warm food, and then put to work until spring. Unlike Ossen, they weren’t eager to get back on the road. The kitchen became a dorm for the winter trapped, and the house was full of mouths to feed and hands to work.

The merchant Mitain was stuck too, but it didn’t faze him in the least. He had recovered his composure after Kate’s rejection and was perfectly friendly whenever they crossed paths at mealtimes or elsewhere. She was wary at first, but when it became clear that he had no intention of pressing his suit, she relaxed.

Thani and the other young householders gave him plenty of attention and while the fawning made Kate mime throwing up whenever she witnessed it, sending Yare and Eri into peals of giggles, she was also thankful that they kept his mind off of her.

Even winter in Aeritan gave way to spring
, though it did so grudgingly. The blizzard eased up and then a chinook wind blew in, with rain melting everything. It snowed again, but by then the days had lengthened appreciably. The sun brightened and warmed the earth, and under the ice of the nearby streams, the water gurgled. Kate was both heartened and frightened by the changing seasons. Colar and his new wife would be arriving in a month’s time when the Aeritan river became safe to cross. She wanted to be far from Terrick before he arrived. Still, the idea of going forth from the only home she had known in Aeritan was more than daunting. Kate had to talk herself down from panic.

You are just going to Red Gold Bridge, where they will open the gordath for you. They have to. Mrs. Hunt will see to it.

She didn’t know if that was true, actually. The gordath was shut tight when she tried to get back through that summer, but it had time to heal, didn’t it? And she would be the last person through. They could make an exception for her and then throw away the key for all she cared.

In the meantime, she put together a pack of her meager belongings. She had her cloak, scarves, and gloves, several pairs of socks she had knitted herself, and her journal. She reached far underneath the bed where she had stowed her bra, panties, and the little package Callia had given her, and wrapped them securely, stuffing them into the bottom of her pack.

All she needed was food for the road, money, and an escort. Maybe I shouldn’t have spent so much time trying to needle Lord Terrick, she thought uneasily. Her spine stiffened at the thought of swallowing her pride and asking him for money. It wasn’t that she was completely without wealth; she had her horses. Allegra in particular was worth plenty. But by Aeritan law, the mare now belonged to Lord Terrick. No one would buy her and defy the lord.

At breakfast, as she sat with the family as custom
demanded, she took a deep breath and said,

“Lord Terrick, may I meet with you later today?”

Everyone turned to look at her, including Mitain, who, as one who received guesting and who had a certain status, also broke bread with the family.

Lord Terrick glowered and Kate turned to Lady Beatra. “And you, Lady Beatra, if you please.”

Her voice was perfectly calm, perfectly meek.

“Yes, of course, child,” Lady Beatra said, and she turned to her husband and gave him a steely look, as if daring him to overrule her. He threw down his bread.

“Then let’s do so now,” he snapped.