Free Prophecy, Child of Earth by Elizabeth Haydon

separately.
    Rhapsody looked at him in surprise. "Manipulative? I don't understand." He said nothing. "Can you explain your meaning?" Ashe took another bite. "Is the tea ready?"

    Rhapsody rose and went to the fire. Tea was best made from the offerings of summer: strawberry leaves and rose hips, sweet fern and red sumac berries. The herbs she had located were not the best blend, plantain and slippery elm, dandelion roots and yarrow, but they were mild and had only passive, healthy properties. She poured a cup of the steaming liquid and passed it to him, her brow still furrowed, waiting for an explanation.
    One was not forthcoming. The cloaked figure raised the cup inside his hood and took a sip. Rhapsody jumped as he spat the tea out violently, spraying some into the fire.
    'Bleah. What is this?" His tone was rude, and Rhapsody could feel her blood start to steam.
    'Well, now it's herbal vapor, but prior to your mature response it was tea."
    'A new and interesting definition for it, I'd say."
    Rhapsody's ire was rising. "Well, I'm sorry you don't like it, but it was the best grouping of herbs I could find. All the properties are healthy ones."
    'If their taste doesn't kill you first."
    'Well, next time I'll be sure to find licorice just for you. I didn't realize until now what serious need you were in of a laxative."
    She thought she heard a chuckle as the hidden man rose and went to his own pack. He rummaged for a moment; finally he located what he was looking for.
    'You could make some of this." He tossed her a small canvas sack tied with a rawhide cord.
    Rhapsody opened the bag and held it to her nose, inhaling its aroma. She recoiled instantly in disgust.
    'Gods, what is this?" She held the sack away from her face.
    'Coffee. A special blend from Sepulvarta."
    'Ugh. It's repulsive."
    Ashe laughed. "You know, you're being very close-minded. You should at least try it before you declare it repulsive."
    'No, thank you. It smells like dirt from a skunk's grave."
    'Well, be that as it may, I like it, certainly much more than your odious tea."
    Rhapsody's face fell, and he hastened to mitigate the damage. "Though I'm sure tea you make when you are not in the forest and dependent on the availability of certain plants—"
    'Spare me," she said coldly. "You are entitled to dislike my tea. No one said it was delicious, just healthy. And if you wish to poison yourself by drinking that bile, please don't let me stop you. But you can make it yourself; I have no desire to inhale the fumes. In fact, I think I'll make a new campsite elsewhere until you're done." She rose from the fire and walked away into the woods, leaving most of her supper untouched.

    J,'yords between them that evening were few. Rhapsody returned after sunset, having sung her vespers, and settled down for the night in her corner of the camp.
    Ashe was repairing one of his boots when she walked into the fire circle, and watched her pass by the flames with interest. He had noticed the effect her presence had on fire, and the way it reflected her mood. It was snapping and hissing now with unspoken anger. She obviously had not gotten over the offense he had committed, probably because he had not apologized.
    He decided to do so now. "I'm sorry about earlier," he said, turning the boot over without looking up in her direction.
    'Put it from your mind."
    'All right," he said, pulling the boot back on, "I will. I wish more women let me off that easily."
    Rhapsody rolled up her cloak and stuffed it under her head to serve as a pillow.
    The ground was broken here with tree roots and buried stones, making for uncomfortable sleeping. "Nonsense," she said. "I'm sure your mother let you get away with murder."
    Ashe laughed. "Gained," he said; it was the sword-trainer's term indicating a point had been scored and acknowledged. "I assume my apology was accepted, then?"
    'Don't become accustomed to it," Rhapsody mumbled from inside her bedroll, a hint of humor returning to her voice.