The Crow God's Girl (3 page)

Instead, she stopped abruptly. “Oh!”

Samar stood in the doorway. The Terrick housekeeper was a rail-thin woman with a starched kerchief that covered her hair so completely that not a single stray lock peeked out. Her eyebrows were gray, so Kate figured her hair was too, and her eyes were a washed-out blue.

“Um,” Kate said. Had Lady Beatra sent Samar to find her?

“Young fosterling,” the woman said. “Is this yours?”

She let a pair of panties dangle from a long finger. Even if they hadn’t been a tiny bikini cut of red gingham with a dainty rose bow on the front that she had bought with her own money and then hidden from her mother, Kate would have known they were hers. No one had underwear here. Her face flamed.

“Why do you have my underwear?”

“I found them in the young master’s chambers.”

Kate knew she went from red-faced to white in one second. No way. No. Way. She had never been in Colar’s room. Ever. So who was planting her underwear in her fiance’s bedroom? She didn’t try to protest. Samar watched her narrowly, her gray, lined face impassive.

“I can’t believe that.” Kate’s voice went flat.

One gray eyebrow arched delicately, and Samar tossed her the little scrap. “You best keep better track of your things,” she said, and turned and left her.

Kate crushed the panty in her fist. She had to wash it when she first arrived in Terrick; she remembered washing it. It was her only pair. And then, she was given clothes to wear, including the strange pair of bloomers. And she must have forgotten the panties. At least, she thought, it hadn’t been the bra. That she was able to wash and dry overnight before the fire, and since she couldn’t quite manage the stays that she was given along with the bloomers, she stuck with the bra. So she had lost track of the panties and someone had taken them and planted them in Colar’s bedroom.

With an eye on the door, she hastily stuck the panties under the lumpy mattress, pulling the ticking back into place.

So who had it in for her? she thought, as she left the room and closed the door behind her, with a backward, considering, glance.

The better question might be, who didn’t?

Lady Beatra gave her a slightly astonished look
when Kate reappeared wearing jeans and a stained tunic.

“It’s a nice day for a ride,” she said, a little defiantly. “I thought I would take my horse.”

“Yes, of course, dear. So those trousers are what everyone wears? They seem very sturdy, although not, perhaps–”

“I didn’t want to ruin my skirt,” Kate said.

“Oh dear, that old thing–” Lady Beatra stopped abruptly. “Kett, we need to get you new clothes.”

“Oh, please, don’t put yourself out,” Kate said in a rush. “Clothes don’t really matter to me, not really. It’s all right.”

Lady Beatra regarded her again with that clear, seeing gaze, as if she were coming to a conclusion. She nodded. “Well,” she said. “Here are the herbs. She handed over a small satchel to Kate. It smelled pungent and grassy, like vesh herbs only more–herbal, Kate thought. “Callia’s house is the blue on the left, third house off the road. If you have any trouble finding her, you can ask.”

“I won’t have any problems,” Kate assured her. She bobbed an awkward curtsey and Lady Beatra hid a little smile.

One of these days I’ll learn how to do it, Kate thought.

In the stables her heart eased. This was where she
belonged
. She breathed deep, taking in the scents of horses, manure, hay and oats, of leather tack and sharp-smelling liniment. She had no trouble finding Allegra and Hotshot’s saddles. The compact English saddles were easy to spot amidst the big Aeritan saddles that were a cross between a Western stock saddle and a high-cantled medieval war saddle. She pulled down Allegra’s saddle and pad and grabbed the mare’s bridle from the rows hanging on the other side of the tack room.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Kate spun. One of the grooms stood there, glaring at her. She didn’t remember him. She had met most of the householders, but it had been such a blur. He was older, stocky, gruff.

“I’m on an errand for Lady Beatra.”

“Oh, an errand,” he said. “How fine for you. Thinking you can come in and take whatever you want from the barn.”

“I’m not taking whatever I want. The mare belongs to me. I’m taking her out for a ride. She needs the work.”

“And what does a slip of a girl know about how to work a horse?”

“I know how to work a horse.” She said it with quiet confidence. He looked at her as if he didn’t know what to make of her.

“Saw you when you came back with the lord’s son,” he said finally, grudgingly. “You brought that mare in just fine.”

“She’s a handful but if you don’t baby her she settles down.”

He snorted. “Most folks get in trouble thinking a horse needs to be coddled. Talked to.” He sneered the last as if it were the ultimate folly. Kate snorted too.

“You should have seen her last owner.” She shook her head as if that explained it all.

“Well,” he said. “No one will say old Drabian don’t know a good ’un when he sees one. The mare is too light-boned to be of much use. The lord says he might keep her bred, try to get some good out of her that way.”

Kate kept a tight rein on her anger. So Lord Terrick thought he could breed Allegra without discussing it with her?

“I see,” she said shortly. “Well, I’d rather keep my horse from getting barn sour.”

Drabian was no fool, as he said. He stared at her, and then laughed. “Don’t knock heads with the lord, girl. He’s your foster father, and what you own, he owns, same as if you were one of his get.” He jerked his head at Allegra’s loose box. “Get you gone on your errand.”

From the moment Kate mounted
, rising easily from the ground in a single smooth movement, she felt a weight lift off her chest. She gathered the reins and gave Allegra her heel, and the horse moved off in a quick walk, her ears flickering as she kept her attention on everything around her. The air was crisp and clear, the sun warm. It was a perfect day for a ride. Once she dropped off the herbs, she didn’t have to hurry back. She could take her time, maybe ride around a bit, explore.

The road to the little village, though unpaved, was well kept, mounded in the middle to let water run off. Thick grasses with a small scattering of tiny white flowers lined the road, giving off a clean scent. On the other side of the ditch were sturdy stone walls keeping back the pastures. Terrick’s cattle were small and russet-brown, some pied, some solid, and they gleamed with late summer health under a bountiful sun.

Kate turned her face to the sun, accepting its warmth. The big house held onto the cold, and some days she didn’t get outside at all but stayed at Lady Beatra’s side, learning all that housekeeping entailed. That reminded her of the panties, so unexpectedly dangling from Samar’s hand. She shivered, despite the summer’s warmth. She knew the householders didn’t like her. That was clear from the whispers that followed her whenever she was by herself in the halls of Terrick. Or, even worse, when the conversation stopped whenever she appeared. The men at arms didn’t care for her either, and that was unnerving, for they were all hard men and their stares made her uncomfortable. They reminded her of being in the war camp when she first arrived through the portal, a frightened prisoner at the mercy of soldiers. Even though General Marthen had placed her under his protection, danger was never distant.

Now she was under Lord Terrick’s protection, as foster daughter. They can’t hurt me, she told herself, but still their disdain and distrust made her uneasy. It was another thing she needed to talk to Colar about, but she had a sinking feeling that he wouldn’t really understand.

It was because he was Terrick; he couldn’t fathom that his House would turn on her. But she knew with every glance and whisper, every hard look, that the householders and soldiers didn’t think of her as Terrick at all.

What would have happened if someone other than Samar had found the panties? If Torvan had? He would have brought them straight to Lord Terrick and Lady Beatra. If they were so strict about keeping her and Colar apart, what would they have said to that?

Now she was borrowing trouble, she told herself. The Terricks were on her side, after all. She had restored Colar to them after they thought he was lost forever on the other side of the gordath that separated the worlds. They wouldn’t turn their backs on her, and if it turned out the householders had it in for her, well, maybe it was time someone told the lord and lady what their servants were up to.

Colar dipped the tin dipper into the bucket
of
cold well water and drank deep, then dumped the rest of the water over his head. He, his brothers and their father had spent the morning with the armsmen at swordwork. He was rusty. Long months in North Salem had left him unprepared for the long, slogging work of wielding a heavy sword, and he would ache tomorrow. Not all the lacrosse or pickup basketball in the world had kept him in shape for this. With chagrin he saw that Aevin had gotten both very good and very fast. His little brother had been a kid when he left. Now, he was beginning to get his growth and his strength. Aevin was no fool. He saw that he was almost as good as his brother. Colar could see it in his eyes when they sparred. If he wasn’t careful, Aevin would overtake him.
No. I’ll make sure he doesn’t. He’s getting cocky enough as it is.

“Move it,” Aevin said, and jostled him. “Don’t hog it all.”

With an easy move, Colar turned and dumped the bucket over his brother’s head, then let it fall back into the courtyard well at the end of the rope.

“Hey!” Aevin dashed the water from his eyes.

Colar smiled.

Aevin went for him, fists swinging. Colar was laughing even as he fended him off. Aevin had no technique.

“What’s the matter, brat? Thought you wanted the water.”

Yare was shouting with excitement as the brothers went at it. Colar was more defending himself but Aevin never let up, and it was starting to get annoying. He’s serious, Colar thought. What was Aevin’s problem? It was just a joke. He was distracted by the thought and Aevin got in a lucky punch against his cheek. Colar’s head snapped back and he saw stars.

His vision cleared almost instantly and he stopped laughing. Anger welled up from some place dark. When he spoke he hardly recognized his own voice. “Asshole,” he said.

Aevin’s eyes went wide at his brother’s transformation. Colar grabbed him by the front of his shirt with one hand and was about to throw him to the ground, when he was pulled back by the scruff of the neck. At the same time, Raymon, his father’s captain, grabbed Aevin and hauled him back.

“Hold,” his father said in his ear. Colar obeyed, shooting Aevin a look that said,
later for you
.

“What was that about?” Lord Terrick said, glaring at both of them. He let Colar go
,
and  Raymon
released Aevin
. Both boys knew better than to try to go after each other. Aevin stared mutinously on the ground.

“Colar dumped the bucket on Aevin,” Yare said with breathless excitement.

Aevin, Colar, and Lord Terrick all looked at each other, united in exasperation.

“Yare,” Lord Terrick said.

Now Yare’s done it, Colar thought. It’s about time too.

“Yes, lord father?” Yare said in a small voice.

“What do we say of boys who carry tales?”

“I’m sorry, lord father. I only meant–”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Yare mumbled something.

“Speak up.”

“Boys who carry tales are only fit to sit with the women and sew.”

“Is that where you would rather be than here among the men?”

“No, lord father.”

“Good. Now leave us and go to your mother. You can come back tomorrow when you have learned your lesson.”

Yare ran off, his shoulders hunched as if his father’s beating had been physical.

Lord Terrick looked at his older sons. “You thought you were being funny, Colar?”

Colar shrugged. “It was just a joke. I don’t know why he took it so seriously.”

Aevin’s voice was thick. “Maybe it was a stupid joke, like that stupid word you called me. You learn that from the other world?”

Everyone froze. The other world was not mentioned in Lord Terrick’s hearing. He’s glad to have me back, and that’s as far as he wants to think about it, Colar thought, and surprised himself with his own bitterness. He had wanted to tell his father all about it. Of all of his family, his father would appreciate it the most. Instead, Lord Terrick had made it clear he preferred Colar to keep the wonders and magic of America to himself.

“What did you call him?” Lord Terrick asked.

Colar hesitated, then sighed. “Asshole.”

Lord Terrick said nothing for a moment, then shook his head. “Very well, Colar, if you would rather play than practice, you can play. Go off with your little brother. Aevin will continue with the men.”