Raven's Strike

“Tell him you’d like Cornsilk,” said Jes.

Seraph felt her eyebrows creeping up.

Jes ducked his head. “I help him sometimes, Mother,” he said.

“Akavith has a way with wild things,” said Tier.

“Don’t worry about the cost,” Seraph told Lehr briskly. “If it is too dear, we can sell the horse when we no longer need it. But go now so you have the daylight—take Skew, he’ll be faster than walking. In the morning we’ll talk about the most likely places for Benroln’s clan to be.”

Akavith lived halfway to Leheigh. It would be dark before Lehr made it home, too late to start out on a hunt for the clan.

Lehr took the pouch and tied it to his belt. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He turned to Jes. “I’ll tell him you told me to ask about Cornsilk.”

After the door closed behind him, Seraph turned to He

She shook her head. “I wish I could be more help. I don’t know how the damage was done or how to fix it.”

“Standing around wringing our hands won’t do anything,” said Seraph. “Tier, lie on the rug beside the fire. This could take a long time, and you can’t move about. Get comfortable.”

“Can we help?” asked Ri

Seraph started to shake her head, then stopped. “It would be best if we ate first. Bread and cheese then, Ri

“And tea,” said Jes. “I’ll go get water.”

Akavith was eating di

“Yes, sir.” Akavith was a formidable man with few kind words for anyone who had fewer than four feet. But Lehr had grown up with Seraph for a mother, and it took a lot to intimidate him.

Black eyes glowered at him from under bushy eyebrows. “What do ’ee want, lad. I’ve di

“I need a horse, sir. I can wait until you are finished.”

“A horse!” He said it as if no one ever came to him for horses.

“Yes, sir.”

He looked out at Skew. “Got a fine horse there.”

“Yes, sir. But I need to fetch a Traveler healer for my father, who took more hurt than we thought from his stay in Taela. I need a fast horse who can travel a distance. Skew’s too old for the trip.”

The animosity faded from Akavith’s face. “Do ye’ now. Tier’s taken hurt? Well, that’s a different matter. Go on out to the barn and look for what suits ye. I’ll be there as soon as I get my boots back on.”

The horses in Akavith’s barn were a choice bunch. Lehr stopped by a tall chestnut mare with a flaxen mane. She left her hay to come to the stall door for attention.

He leaned his forehead against her neck and drew in the sweet-salt scent of a healthy horse as he scratched gently along her cheekbone.

Gods, he thought, I hope Brewydd can do something. His faith in the healer was enormous, but the fear in his mother’s eyes made his chest tight.

“That’s a good, choice, lad,” said Akavith, his voice the soft crooning one that he usually reserved for his horses.

Lehr straightened. He usually heard people approaching, but he’d had no idea that the horse trainer was nearby.

“I like the bay two stalls back, too,” said Lehr. “And my brother told me to ask about a horse named Cornsilk.”

“That’s Cornsilk, right there, lad. And your brother has a fine eye for horses.” Akavith grabbed a halter and opened the stall door. He haltered the mare and led her out so that Lehr could get a better look.

“She’s coming five and fully trained—some of that training by your brother. I usually sell them younger than this—that bay is four and sold already. I’ve had offers for this mare, but… Ye see, lad,” Akavith patted her red-gold shoulder. “Noblemen are too proud to ride a mare. They’d make her a lady’s mount, trotting her from one party to another.” He frowned fiercely. “She wouldn’t be happy like that—she loves the trails and the challenge of a long run. Just don’t be putting a harness on her and make her pull a plow like your father did to that Fahlarn gelding of his; Cornsilk doesn’t have the bone for it. Tell your father to come see me, and I’ll find him a replacement for the grey he lost, I’ve a few horses that should suit him.”

“I doubt we can afford it, sir,” Lehr told him, but he wasn’t thinking about a new farm horse: he was falling in love.

Out of her stall, the mare was beautiful, fine-boned like a sight-hound, and nearly as tall as Skew. Liquid dark eyes examined him with curiosity and the sweetness of a horse who’d never been mistreated. Exotically long and silky, her mane and tail were the exact color of cornsilk. Her nostrils were wide to drink the wind.

“Tell your father, and we’ll work something out,” said Akavith. His craggy features relaxed a bit more, and Lehr felt as if those keen old eyes saw right through him. “Yes,” he said, slapping his thigh. “You and this mare will do.”

They bargained for a while, and Lehr knew the price they agreed on was far lower than the horse trainer would have gotten from one of those nobles who were looking for a lady’s mount.

“Don’t fret,” said the horse trainer. “Your brother won’t let me pay him, and these past few years he’s as good as my best boy with the horses. Do you have a saddle and bridle that’ll fit this mare?”

“No, sir.”

Akavith put the mare back in the stall and led Lehr to his tack room. As he sorted through bridles, he said, “Had a man in here today from Redern. Told me Olbeck—the steward’s son, do you mind him?”

Lehr knew Olbeck, but Akavith continued speaking without waiting for an answer.

“He killed a lad—a merchant’s son, Lukeeth it was.”

Lukeeth was one of Olbeck’s sycophants, a Rederni merchant’s son. Lehr hadn’t known him well, nor liked what little he knew, but he hadn’t wanted him dead either.

“Storne Millerson bore witness against him, I heard. If Olbeck’s father weren’t the Sept’s steward, Lukeeth’s father would have demanded his head and gotten it, too. But all he managed was to banish Olbeck from Redern. I imagine it won’t take a month for the steward to have that judgment put aside.” He spat on the floor of the stables. “Makes me glad I don’t live in a town. One of my boys kills another, I take care of it.”

“If you can’t control your worries, I can do this,” He

If someone was going to muck about with Tier’s Order, Seraph preferred to do it herself. She knelt beside her husband and shifted until she was as comfortable as she was going to get on the slat floor.

When she was settled she took a couple of deep breaths and buried her fear and anger deep so that she could control her magic. Emotions made magic unreliable and dangerous.

“I am fine,” she told He

Jes and Ri

“Lie down,” she told Tier, who was sitting up. “And relax.”

She began by looking. Usually an Order appeared to her like a set of transparent clothes that covered the whole body, though she knew that all Ravens didn’t see the same way. Her teacher Arvage had seen small crowns of woven vines, each Order bloomed with a different color flower. Only the colors were the same for each Raven. She wondered how her old teacher would have seen the damage to Tier’s Order.

“What do you see when you look at his Order, He

“Light,” she answered. “With areas of darkness.”

Seraph touched Tier’s chest lightly, where her magic told her one of the holes was. “I see a break here,” she told He

He

“Keep an eye on him,” Seraph asked. “If you see any change at all, let me know.”

Until this past season, Seraph would never have thought that there was anything that could alter an Order. When she’d been young, she’d tried, and she supposed that she wasn’t the only one. She’d wanted to see if she could change the appearance of her Order so that any Raven who happened by would not automatically know what kind of Order Bearer she was.