Raven's Shadow (Raven #1)(25)

"He made me work hard," said Rinnie, still not giving up the hope of getting her brother in trouble.

When Rinnie stuck her tongue out at Lehr, he ignored it. Last year he would have retaliated - or smiled at her, knowing that her reaction would be worth whatever trouble he'd get in.

"Thank you, Lehr," Seraph said, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. "I know it's not an easy job to keep this lazy girl working. I can tell by the stew on the hob and the pile of carded wool that the both of you came inside and rested like the high-born."

He laughed and hugged her. "She was fine. We'd have gotten the whole garden done, Mother, if Jes had stuck around. He left sometime after lunch - I didn't even see him go."

"I can talk to him," she offered.

Lehr shook his head. "No, it's all right. I know he does the best he can. It's just that with Papa gone, we need him. When he can keep his mind on it, he can work as well as Papa does. Mother, the Sept's steward was here today."

"Forder?" Seraph asked, taking her cloak and hood off and hanging them on the cloak tree by the door. "What did he want?"

"He looked at the fields and asked if Papa was back yet. When I told him no, he said the new Sept was demanding quarter again as much for our tithe payment this year as last - of the garden and the fields. He said that it's almost past time to get the fields plowed."

Seraph put her pack against the wall. "I know, Lehr. We've waited as long as we could. We'll just have to break ground without Tier. We can start tomorrow - no, day after tomorrow so I have time to look at the harness and plow to make repairs. Don't worry about the increased tithe; Tier said to expect some kind of increase with the new Sept."

"Forder said the Sept had a horse we could lease, if we needed."

"No." She shook her head. When he'd left, Tier had taken the young mare they'd bought last year, leaving their old gelding to his retirement. "Skew knows these fields, and old as he is, he'll do the job until Tier gets back. We can't afford to start leasing a horse, not if the Sept is taking more of the harvest."

Outside the door, Gura gave a howl more suited to a dire wolf than a dog, which was answered by a wail both higher and wilder.

"Jes is home," said Rinnie unnecessarily, for the door flew back on its hinges and Seraph's oldest child bounded in the door.

"Mother, Mother," he sang out. "I found a rabbit for dinner." He held out an enormous jackrabbit, already gutted, beheaded, and skinned.

"Jesaphi, my love," Seraph said. "I am very glad that you found a rabbit. But you need to shed some mud before you come inside."

Of all her children, Jes looked the most like his father. Taller by a head than Lehr, Jes was lean and dark. Lehr was lean, too, but he had Seraph's pale hair. Like Tier, Jes was not handsome; his nose was thin and too long. A deep dimple peered out of his left cheek, and his eyes were dark, velvet brown.

"I'm sorry, Mother," he said shedding his exuberance like a coat. "I didn't mean to - to get muddy."

It was Jes's voice that gave him away even to the least observant. There was something wrong in the pitch and the singsong way he talked.

He wasn't simple, like the cooper's son, but his affliction appeared very similar and people assumed they were the same. Seraph had seen no reason to confuse anyone but Tier with the truth.

"Not to worry." Seraph soothed Jes with one of the light touches, which were usually all he could bear. "While the others set the table, you and I'll go clean you up."

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked anxiously.

"No, love, come with me." She took his hand and led him outside to help him scrub off.

In the middle of the night, unable to sleep, Seraph rose quietly out of her too-empty bed in the loft and dressed. She opened a trunk and took from it a large bag that dangled heavily from its worn cords. The ladder steps were tight and let out no sound that might wake Lehr, who was a light sleeper.

The pack by the door still held the boots she'd gotten Jes; she'd forgotten to give them to him. Seraph took them out and set them to the side. She put the bag she'd taken from her room into the pack where the shoes had been, then quietly let herself out.

On the porch, Gura watched her with glittering eyes that hinted at wolf somewhere in his background.

"Shh," she said. "Stay and watch."

Gura subsided and dropped his face back down on his forepaws, jowls sliding loosely to either side.

"I'll be back soon enough," she explained as if he'd understand. "I just can't sleep. There are things I have to work out."

Gura closed his eyes - sulking, she knew, because she hadn't asked him along.

She followed a path behind the cabin that led into the forest. The moon was high and her night vision was better than most so she had little trouble finding her way.

She walked a mile or so until she came to the meadow she sought. She set her pack down and opened it.

"Eighty-three," she said to herself, taking out the leather bag she'd gotten in town as well as the bag from her trunk, "and a hundred and forty-one."

She took one of the mermori out and stuck it into the ground, point down, so it stuck up like a short fencepost. She took another out and measured it with her fingers then paced out a distance from the second. She did the same with the third and the fourth as the moon crept across the sky.