The Crow God's Girl (2 page)

Eri giggled at the strange words, and Kate launched into the story, making the trip-trap trip-trap tapping sounds by rapping her knuckles on the bedstead.

“Who’s that crossing over my bridge?” she growled, and Eri squealed with delight. She got the three billy goats safely past the troll and over the river to the green pasture and to happily ever after, and Eri sighed with giddiness and tiredness. She yawned again.

“Can you tell me that one again?”

“Tomorrow,” Kate promised.

“Okay,” Eri sighed, her eyes closing. Kate smiled at the sound of the American expression in the littlest Terrick’s accent. I love this kid, she thought. Two weeks, and I want to protect her, even from her father.

Eri’s breathing evened out, and Kate got up, careful not to make a noise. Eri slept on. Kate stripped the nightgown and stood in her jeans and t shirt. She picked up the candle and carefully opened the door.

She was off to meet her husband-to-be.

Kate slipped out and closed the door with a gentle snick. She waited a moment in the hallway. The small candle barely shed any light in the corridor. She listened for Eri’s breathing, but the massive wooden door kept any noise behind it to itself. Kate put her hand on the stonecut masonry wall, its rough dampness irritating her fingertips, and felt along the hallway.

The stairs yawned ahead of her, a blacker darkness in the dark, a rush of cold rising from the first floor as if it were from beneath the earth itself. Her candle guttered and went out before she could shield it from the breeze. Still, she could see a little now, faint starlight coming through the slit window at the end of the hall. She sidled past the staircase. The starlight led her down the hall to Colar’s room.

I hate this, she thought, butterflies roiling in her belly. I don’t want to sneak around. But we never get to see each other. We don’t get to talk, we don’t get to do anything. She was pretty sure that the Terrick household had orders to keep them separated.

At Colar’s door she hesitated, leaning to listen against
the
wooden barrier. She heard nothing except for the nervous pounding of her pulse. Kate took a breath and scratched nervously at the door.

Nothing. Kate scratched again and this time, she thought she heard noise. Yes! Voices. Wait–voices? There was Aevin’s lighter voice, Colar’s deeper one. Soldier’s god. He must share with Aevin and Yare. Kate backed away from the door and ran to her room, no longer sidling against the wall. The blast of cold air from downstairs hit her and then she was at her door when she heard, “sst!” She turned, her heart hammering. Small candleflame glowed in the dark, ruining her night vision. She squinted and managed to see Colar.

“What are you doing?” he whispered, cupping his hand around the flame. “If you get caught...”

“I needed to talk to you,” she whispered crossly. “When did Aevin share a room with you?”

He didn’t answer that. Instead, he took her by the hand and led her down the hall the other way. There was an archer’s alcove by the window overlooking the road. The cold summer night’s air flowed over them, and Kate shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. Colar extinguished the candle, and the starlight gave them enough shadow so that she fancied she could see him. They were so close their knees touched. He wore only his trousers. He leaned forward so that their foreheads touched. They clasped hands, and she felt the warmth rise into her, and give her confidence.

“What did you need to talk to me about?”

“Everything. Nothing. Colar, we haven’t really talked to each other since we got here.” She heard the hurt in her voice. “I know it’s not your fault, but I just–wanted to see you.”

More than anything, she wanted his reassurance. She fumbled, trying to ask for it without seeming needy. “I wanted to touch base.”

“I know,” he admitted. “But my father wants me by him, and it’s not the custom here, for us to be together. This is dangerous, Kate.”

She took a breath. “I won’t do it again. It’s just that–I haven’t seen you.” It was lame, and she couldn’t explain what she meant but she tried again. “Like when we were home.” Back in North Salem, they would get a snack after school before her parents came home, settle down in the kitchen to do homework and talk, about school, about Aeritan, about the war camp where they met.

“Kate, this is home.” He lifted her chin and kissed her, and she relaxed a little. “You’ll get used to it, the same way I did. We’ll have a life here, we’ll get married.”

“I’ll be a doctor,” Kate said, thinking of her promise to her parents.

“I know,” he said. “It’s just for now, we have to play by these rules.”

“I don’t know if I can,” she admitted. “I feel like every step I take is a wrong one.”

“You’ll get the hang of it. And you’ve been doing great so far,” he said, and she could almost see his smile.

“Is this how you felt?” she said suddenly. She meant when the tables were turned, when he lived for all those months in North Salem, never thinking he could go home again. “So empty and lost? Scared?” His smile went away. “I hate this Colar. I hate being here, I hate not knowing–what’s going to happen to me.” Her voice was rising and she caught herself, but not before she sobbed once. It was shockingly loud in the silent stone house, and for a second she thought she woke everyone up with a piercing cry.

“Shh!” And then he softened it. “Shh,” he said again, and he held her close, his arms comforting, his bare chest warm. “Don’t worry, please, Kate. It’s not bad here. You’ll get used to things and you’ll like it, I promise.”

She swallowed back her tears. She was stupid to act this way. He was right. She was going to be all right. She raised her face to his and this time she let herself enjoy the stolen kiss, the fear and uncertainty melting away.

The sound of voices from below stairs jolted them apart, and Kate’s heart pounded. They stayed still, barely breathing. The voices of the householders faded, and she let herself breathe. But the moment of intimacy, of comfort, had passed. Colar stood.

“We need to go back,” he said. His voice was urgent. He took her by the hand. She got to her feet and he led her back to her bedroom. At the door he leaned close.

“We can’t do this,” he whispered. “You have to be more careful, please Kate? It’s just different here. If we caused a scandal–”

Terrick honor again. She swallowed her stubbornness. “Okay. I promise.”

He loomed over her and kissed her, but in the dark his kiss missed and landed on her cheek. She didn’t say anything, pushed the door open and slipped back inside.

Eri’s comforting breathing rose up from the big bed. Kate undressed and threw on the night gown and crawled in with the girl. She muffled her sobs in the rough, prickly pillow and when she had exhausted her grief she fell into a troubled sleep.

The day dawned bright and fair, a light wind sending the morning clouds scudding across a blue sky. The smells of Terrick, mud, sheep, sweat, hay, wafted through
the
great house, its windows thrown open to the day. Kate breathed deep, and the freshness of the air and the simpleness of the smells chased some of her sadness and anxiety away.

Breakfast was less formal than dinner, and the family was used to gathering in the kitchens to grab vesh, bread, and meat and potatoes, the richness of the spices redolent in the close, warm kitchens. While everyone sat at a
rustic
table, the kitchen servants bustling around them and the great ovens blazing, Lord Terrick ate standing. He was dressed for the day in rich woolens and a thick vest over a linen shirt. Kate grudgingly admitted that he looked good for an older man. The boys were dressed like their father,
Colar looking relaxed and rough
hewn, somehow older than the boy she knew in North Salem. He needed to shave and his hair was long again, she noted, and then tried to keep her gaze away from him, still unsure about the previous night. Erinye was dressed like a miniature Lady Beatra in a placketed shirt and modest split skirts. Kate had done the little girl’s hair in two french braids and tucked them up in loops before covering her with a demure kerchief.

She herself wore the same hand me downs, a split skirt dyed a sensible brown, and an overtunic in cream linen. Her clothes were worn and clean, yet a little stained, a little darned, showing their wear. But comfortable, Kate had hastened to assure Lady Beatra, not wanting to put her out. She wore her hiking boots over worn stockings. They were better than anything Aeritan had to offer, so she kept them, though she knew they got a second glance from the householders.

Kate kept her focus on her flatbread and potatoes. She hoped Colar noticed how demure she was being.
If this is how it’s to be, then this is it. He had to learn our ways; I can learn his
. Then, stubbornly,
but he had it easier.

Because he wouldn’t have been sent away if he got it wrong.

“Right,” Lord Terrick said. “Sons, come with me. My lady, I bid you a fair day.” He bowed to his wife. Lady Beatra bobbed her head back.

“My lord, a fair day to you.”

Obediently the boys followed their father, all of them snagging a last bite of bread or an apple before leaving. Kate kept her gaze down until she guessed they were all gone and then looked up. Lady Beatra regarded her with a considering look.

Eri giggled. “Mama, you spoke to lord father as if he were a stranger lord.”

Lady Beatra gave a rueful laugh. “I did, did I not?”

It was a performance then, that formality between husband and wife. A teachable moment so the stranger girl could see how a lord and lady behaved. Had they talked about her and her foreignness? Were they determined to make sure she learned their ways? So she didn’t cause embarrassment
to
their son? Kate’s face flamed at the thought of them managing her.

“Eri, my love,” Lady Beatra said. She still had her eyes on Kate, and she tore her bread into tiny pieces before she dropped it into her potato and lamb. “Can you fetch my books from my office, please? I must make an accounting with Torvan today.”

“Yes, mama.” Eri slid off the bench and ran off.

Lady Beatra dropped her breadcrumbs and dusted off her fingers. She reached out and took Kate’s hand. Her hand was rough and calloused, the knuckles large and red. She worked hard, did Lady Beatra, for all that she had lady in front of her name.

“Did you quarrel?”

Tears flooded her eyes and Kate willed them back.

“No ma’am,” she said.
How can we quarrel when we are never allowed to be together?

Lady Beatra nodded. “He was always a serious boy, my Colar.” She smiled and Kate returned it, sniffing back tears. Serious was the word for Colar. “He strives very hard to live up to his name, his family honor. All Terricks do.” For a moment her expression was wry. “Terricks show their love differently.”

She and Lord Terrick had an arranged marriage. Did she love her husband? Kate didn’t dare ask. Lady Beatra gave her hand another squeeze. “I know how hard this must be for you, child. It’s early days yet. In time, Terrick will become your home.”

Kate almost dissolved in tears, and she managed to keep them back just barely. Lady Beatra patted her hand and released it. Eri came staggering in with a hidebound account book. Kate quickly dabbed at her eyes.

“Ah, thank you, love,” Lady Beatra said. “We have a long day of reckoning, Torvan and I. Oh.” She tsked. “And how could I have forgotten. Andarin is that close to childbed, and I meant to send herbs to the midwife for the birthing. I’ll have to send Samar or one of the householders and she’s so busy–”

“I’ll do it.” Kate spoke so quickly she took herself aback.

“I suppose you could,” Lady Beatra said, as if the possibility were a surprise. “And it would help, for Samar has so much to do.”

“I would love to.”
Be useful, be useful
hammered itself in the beating of her heart, so that sometimes it echoed in her ears. Only this time eagerness pushed her as well. To be free, even for a half hour, from the oppressiveness of the Terrick honor, it was almost too much to hope. “Just tell me who the herbs are to go to and I’ll take care of it.”

“It’s rather far,” Lady Beatra said, a little dubiously. “And you haven’t been there yet, though it’s not hard to find, it’s the first smallholding down the road.”

“I’ll ride. And I’ll find it. Colar pointed it out to me from the window.” She could see the whitewashed village houses in her mind’s eye, tucked into a little valley between the hills.

Lady Beatra pursed her lips, then made up her mind. “Of course. There’s no reason you shouldn’t. You should become used to your new home. Go get ready, dear, and come back down to the kitchen. I’ll have everything ready for you.”

Kate remembered to curtsey, and flew up the stairs to change into her jeans. She hoped Lady Beatra wouldn’t mind that she wore her old clothes but she didn’t want to ride in her skirts. She dumped the dowdy skirt, put on the jeans and zipped them up over her linen bloomers. They slid up easily. She had lost a lot of weight in Terrick, from nerves and unhappiness. As diets go, she wouldn’t recommend it, but she had to admit, if she wanted a model thin body, this was very effective. Except that in Aeritan, big girls were considered pretty and desirable. That figures, she thought, tossing her split skirt onto the bed, and turning to head to the kitchen and then the stable.