Raven's Strike (Raven #2)(41)

The lower tunnels told her they had been dug in secret, many years earlier, as places to hide goods from the Sept's tax collector. When Volis had brought hired men into Redern to dig the temple, they must have happened into the tunnels by chance. She wondered if Willon knew about the tunnels here, since the lower layer should be on the same level as his store.

By unspoken consent, they saved Volis's bedroom for last; Seraph because it was the most likely place, after the library, to hold something of interest, but she thought Hennea put it off it for another reason.

Seraph found a yellowish sapphire set in a wristband, fallen among the cushions of Volis's bed. It wasn't an Order-bound gem, so she left it there. Dropping the bedding she'd searched, Sraph looked at Hennea.

She was sifting through one of a pair of trunks that sat against a wall and avoiding looking at the bed. If Seraph had been in any doubt as to some of the uses Volis had put Hennea to, one look at Hennea's face when they'd first come into the room would have been all she needed. Hennea hadn't said anything, and Seraph didn't pry. Sometimes silence was all the help she could offer.

When they finished, Seraph let Hennea take care of spelling Jes's secret room with its new treasure while Seraph and Rinnie packed Traveler books.

Jes bounded into the library. "It's a good secret room, now," he said, as Hennea and Lehr followed him into the library.

"I'm glad it pleases you," Seraph told Jes. "Grab a pack, and we'll start down."

"I get to carry my maps," said Rinnie smugly. Maybe it was the knowledge she'd found the most interesting thing in the temple, but Seraph suspected that at least some of the self-satisfied expression was because the satchel with its maps was a lot lighter than the books.

The tavern was a very old building, perhaps the oldest in Redern, and built near the bottom of the mountain. As Seraph put her foot on the bottom step of the porch, Lehr touched her arm. When he had her attention, he nodded toward Jes, who was pale and swaying - always a bad sign.

"Why don't you head on home," Seraph told Lehr. "I can get Tier and follow the rest of you." She gave him her pack of books to carry along with his own. He gave her a half smile that told her he understood she didn't want to have to explain to everyone in the tavern just what it was she was doing carrying a pack full of books from the temple.

"Back to the farm sounds like a good idea," Hennea said. She took a step toward Jes, hesitated, then took his arm. He started as if he hadn't noticed her until she touched him. "Come, Jes," she said, her voice a little softer than usual. "We're going home."

Worried, Seraph watched them go. Jes had never liked the town, but she'd never seen him this bothered by it, either. Was he getting worse? Was there anything she could do to help? She felt like she'd spent half her life asking herself those questions, and she no more had the answers now than she'd had twenty years ago.

Searching for something more productive to think about, she found herself playing with the idea Hennea had broached earlier. What if there were more Ordered solsenti? Would she ever have recognized it in Tier if she hadn't met him under extraordinary circumstances?

Intent on her thoughts, the noise of the busy tavern startled her. It was full. Guards, she thought, judging by the number of weapons they carried. It wasn't all that uncommon to see so many strangers here; this was the closest tavern to the trail. It made her glad she'd sent her pack with Lehr - books were valuable, and some of these guardsmen looked as though they sometimes might have held other, less savory occupations.

She could hear a lute intermingling with the sounds of men talking, but whoever it was played stiffly and a little off pitch. She wondered when Tier would tactfully help him out a little.

The crowd shifted, and she saw the lute player. Shock caught her breath. It was Tier. Even as she watched him, he shook his head and put the lute down.

"Seraph," Regil, the tavern's owner, reached out to steady her, but didn't quite touch. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," she said, composing herself. "Excuse me."

Tier could play badly, she thought, but only if he wanted to. She'd spent the first two weeks after she'd gotten him back from the Path wizards surreptitiously checking to make certain that they had not damaged him, that they hadn't begun to steal his Order already. But after those first weeks, as he began to recover from the hurt they had done, she'd quit worrying, quit looking.

Unto the Ravens it is given to see the Orders. She called the magic and looked. The fine fabric of Tier's Order was wrapped around him as it always was, but there were holes in it.

She started toward Tier, but her exchange with the tavern owner had drawn several of the strange men's attention to her.

A man on her right surged to this feet. "A Traveler bitch? I thought the animals had to stay outside."

Seraph stopped and looked at him, waiting for him to do something else. Anything else. Rage surged through her veins and brought magic with it. Tier was home. He should have been safe. This guardsman had nothing to do with her anger.

Nothing and everything.

"Seraph Tieraganswife," said the tavern owner, trying to distract her from her prey, brave man. "As you see, your husband has been keeping us busy with his tales."

She didn't take her eyes off the guardsman. "I'm glad to hear it," she said.