Free The Crow God's Girl by Patrice Sarath Page B

delicate face into something approaching handsome. “Young lord put up a fight, for sure.”
    Yare beamed and one of the soldiers reached out and slapped him on his shoulder. Whoever or whatever Ossen was, he had just made a fan for life. The crow gave her a sideways glance.
    “I asked the crow god for aid and so came the young lady, she on the fine horse, and rode them down.”
    There was a deep, charged silence. Kate felt the color drain from her face. Ossen had just put her on the side of the crow god.
    When Lady Beatra spoke her voice was careful. She turned to Maksin. “Send your men out at once, Maksin, please. I’d like to see if we can find anything about why this occurred. And to you, young Ossen, we give you our thanks as well, and traveler’s aid.”
    Oh shit. Disaster piled upon disaster. Traveler’s aid was much less of an honor and implied less of an obligation than guesting. Kate bit her lip. Ossen cut his eyes toward her and then bowed to Lady Beatra.
    “My thanks, my Lady.”
    “Mama, no!” said Yare. “He deserves guesting! After Kett went out on the horse, he took them all on, one on one!” He slashed and hewed with vigor.
    Lady Beatra nodded, but her face was more pained than ever. “Of course, Yare. Ossen, we give you guesting.”
    Kate resolved never to have another mean thought about Yare ever again.
    Torvan snorted. “Guesting now,” he said. “And what will the boy do while he sits and enjoys Terrick hospitality?”
    “I can work,” Ossen said. “I can pull my weight.”
    “Not much weight to pull. You’ve no more meat on you than your namesake crow, and few feathers besides.”
    “Torvan!” Lady Beatra so rarely raised her voice that everyone jumped a little. Torvan’s eyes narrowed but he simmered down. “Ossen, we will find a place for you. For now, you may sleep in the stables.”
    “Yes, my good lady. Thank you.” He finished his stew as if he thought it would be taken from him.
    “Ready, my Yare?” Lady Beatra held out her hands to her son, and helped Yare slosh his way out of the basin, his bare feet red from the hot water. The boy yawned, and Kate yawned in sympathy. It had been a long day.
    She took Eri by the hand and led her off to their bedroom, got her into her nightgown, and tucked her in. Eri was asleep almost before Kate got out of her clothes and into her own nightgown.
    Despite her tiredness, she couldn’t sleep.
    You should have told Lady Beatra about what you heard. Guilt wracked her. If she had told her at once, Lady Beatra could have sent men at arms to the river right away and Yare would have been rescued that much sooner. Instead, she had not wanted to lose her freedom. Kate felt deeply ashamed.
    I’ll tell her tomorrow, she thought. But if Lady Beatra thought less of her, she had it coming.
    She groaned and buried her face in the down-stuffed pillow. A sound caught her attention–the door, opening a crack, and tiny little sniffle. Then,
    “Kett? Can I come in to bed with you and Eri?”
    Careful not to let any pity leak into her voice, she said, “Sure. Come on up.”
    Yare clambered up between her and his little sister. Eri muttered something and turned away, and Yare lay still as a board. After a moment his shoulders shook and he tried to keep back his sobs. She could imagine him sharing a bed with his big brother and not being able to cry, because he was a Terrick, and a noble, and crying wasn’t allowed, and coming to the only person he knew for comfort. Kate sat up and rocked him, whispering, “It’s okay, Yare. It’s okay.”
    Oh Colar. I wish you were here .
     
    His father had lied–the betrayals of Council happened in the small rooms, not in the hall.
    Colar knew he must look as if he had been pole-axed. He stood before his father in their chambers in the great house of Salt. The fire crackled warmly, and the small oil lamps were turned down low so he couldn’t see his father’s face. He wondered bitterly if his father played it