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

Council, along with influential merchants and others who were on the docket, made up the audience. His father wanted Colar front and center so he got a good eyeful of what it meant to be part of Council. Mostly, Colar knew, it was loads of posturing and stultifying rhetoric.
    The real dealmaking happened in the private rooms and in dispatches that couriers carried across the countryside, riding fast and secretively. His father had once said that the Council meetings were where the betrayals happened. If he had been meeting with Lord Salt, as Raymon had said, Colar wondered what betrayals his father expected.
    A crisp wind from the river blew across the plaza, lifting his hair away from his face. The wind had an autumn bite, despite the late summer sun that gleamed on the crowd milling in front of the massive doors, barred with well-wrought iron and studded with spikes. It was more a statement than defense–Salt’s engines that hulked in silhouette along the top of the city walls were a more potent barrier.
    Around him, all the colors of Aeritan’s Houses swirled, not just on servants’ patches but on the younger sons and daughters of the lords. There were Saraval and Wessen, and he caught a glimpse of the great Lady Wessen. She was speaking with her daughter, Lady Sarita, and her husband, Lord Tharp. Lady Sarita still went about with her head bare, but she wore Aeritan clothes once again. He wondered if her New York clothes had just worn out or if she was returning to her old life after all.
    He wished Kate would give up her old clothes. He knew she was lonely and homesick because he had been through the same thing, but she was just making it worse for herself by living in the past. The gordath was closed, this time for good. Wearing her jeans and her boots made it harder to accept that. He remembered what she had said about her underwear, about the servants trying to sabotage her place. Maybe they were jealous, but it wasn’t as if they could do anything about it. They were just householders.
    The sooner they married the better, for many reasons. And maybe they could be careful, and not have children right away, if that would make Kate less worried.
    In the half circle plaza in front of Salt’s great hall, the press thickened as the lords and their families in attendance all drifted toward the great doors.
    “Colar of Terrick!”
    He turned. It was the tall Captain Crae with his wife, Lady Jessamy. Colar grinned.
    He hurried over and they clasped hands. “Sir, it is good to see you,” he said. He bowed to Lady Jessamy, who was Lady Trieve. She had bright eyes and brown hair and her cheeks were red. She smiled, and it transformed her from a great lady with sharp eyes to a kindly, pretty woman. “Greetings to you, my lady.”
    “Greetings, young Terrick,” she said. “You’ve grown, young man.”
    He tried not to blush. Two or three years ago, she had wanted to betrothe him to her infant daughter. Colar tried to change the subject.
    “Your husband gave me great aid last year,” Colar said.
    “You led your small army well,” the c aptain said. He was tall and grizzled, and seemed at peace with himself. It had been a bad summer for him too, Colar had heard. “How is the girl?”
    “She’s well sir, and if she knew that I met you, she would give you greeting.” He couldn’t help it; he added, “We’re to be married.” It still gave him pride to think about. Soon. Maybe. I hope.
    Next to him, Raymon shifted uncomfortably.
    “May the high god’s blessing be upon you!” Lady Trieve said with obvious delight, and her captain echoed her.
    “Blessings upon you both,” Crae repeated.
    The horn blared to signal the start of Council, and they clasped hands all around, making haste.
    “Well then, we should go. I’m sure your father is waiting.”
    “He is, Lady Trieve, and I will see you in Council.”
    They took leave, promising to talk more. The crowd opened up, and Colar fell in step next to Raymon. He