The Crow God's Girl by Patrice Sarath Read Free Book Online

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.
     
    The city of Salt was the leading gem in the string of merchant cities that were strung along the great Aeritan river like pearls on a necklace. Its harbor was dotted with the masted, shallow-keeled ships that plied their wares to Brythern and the ocean to the south and as far north as the ships could sail before the river narrowed between high cliffs and became impassable for the masted, oared vessels. At the top of the high street loomed Lord Salt’s ancestral home, a pile of stone and wood bristling with parapets, and, incongruously, laundry flapping in the setting sun from one of the balconies.
    In the rooms of the great House assigned to Lord Terrick and his retinue, Colar straightened his linen shirt and shrugged into his vest with Terrick colors. The clothes were his finest, with silver buttons and delicate stitching. He felt a bit self-conscious. He hadn’t dressed up since coming home from North Salem. His Aeritan finery made him uneasy, the same way the black suit and uncomfortable shoes he wore in America for one of Mrs. Mossland’s work functions had.
    “Ready, Master Terrick?” Raymon said, tapping his fingertips against his belt. He nodded toward the door. “Your father is anxious.”
    His father detested being late and was taking it out on everyone. Colar hurriedly strapped on the sword belt, wiping the leather until it was clean of smudged fingerprints and shone as well as his boots and buttons. He followed Raymon out, joining the crowd on the wide palazzo fronting the great meeting room of Salt.
    “Has my father already gone in?”
    Raymon nodded. “He came straight from meeting with Lord Salt. He said he wants you up front.”
    The families of the