Raven's Strike (Raven #2)(76)

Gura barked at a flopping fish that Toarsen pulled onto the shore.

"Toarsen's been fishing before," Seraph said. "And Kissel, too."

"Leheigh's right on the river, same as Redern." Tier adjusted his head so he could watch the boys more comfortably. "It would be more surprising if Toarsen couldn't fish - and Kissel does whatever Toarsen does. Rufort can't fish, but he's been in the woods - did you see how quickly he had that fire built? You don't learn that in the city. Our Ielian, though, is a city boy through and through. Sensitive, too. We'll have to keep Rinnie away from him - he won't think it's funny when a ten-year-old girl tells him what he's doing wrong. I'll have a talk with Lehr."

"You can talk to Rinnie, too," advised Seraph. "She's pretty considerate of people if she knows what will bother them."

"Where did Hennea and Jes go?"

Seraph bent her head toward him and brushed his cheek with hers. "Since we had more fishermen than hooks, Hennea said they'd go out and gather firewood or greens."

He wiggled his eyebrows at her. "We could go gather firewood."

She laughed. "My mother told me about men like you."

When the fish were all caught and eaten and the sun setting, they gathered around the fire. Tier tuned the lute he'd brought back with him from Taela.

"Play 'The Marcher's Retreat,' please, Papa?" asked Rinnie.

And so began the singing. They were into the second verse before Seraph's soft alto joined in. She didn't like to sing in public, he knew, though she sang with him when it was just family. It was a sign of how much she'd taken to Phoran and the boys that she sang at all.

The soft lamenting tones of "The Marcher's Retreat" gave way to the rollicking "Big Tag's Dog's First Hunt." He liked that one especially because he'd spent a whole month learning the quick-fingering for the tricky runs from his grandfather the summer before he'd left to soldier. It was the last song his grandfather had taught him.

Lehr pulled out his pennywhistle and played the descant, while Rinnie used a pair of sticks for rhythm accents. It was too fast for the boys who didn't know it, but Toarsen kept up with them until the last chorus, which was sung twice as fast as the rest.

Tier picked a soft ballad next, a common one that everyone would know. There was a duet on the second chorus that Jes and Lehr took. Their voices were almost identical in timbre, and Tier always enjoyed listening to the unusual texture that similarity added to the music.

On the third chorus, Tier's fingers failed him, and he missed a note.

He continued as if there were nothing wrong, and no one seemed to notice. It wasn't as if he played the wrong note, after all. His fingers had just hesitated a moment too long.

He'd played it hundreds of times and never missed a note - still, a missed note should have been nothing to worry about. That is what he told himself as he finished the last verse and swept into the chorus again, but he couldn't put aside that for that bare instant, while his fingers stilled, he'd had no idea who he was or what he was doing.

He finished the song with a flourish and a grin, then sent everyone to bed.

"Morning comes early, and we'll not wait for the sun," he told them.

He smiled at Seraph and teased her about something that he forgot a moment later. He hid his fear behind a smile and words as he'd learned to do during his years as a soldier. But this was an enemy that he had no idea how to engage in battle.

When Seraph curled beside him, he held her too tightly. She kissed him, wriggled to loosen his grip, patted his hand, and went to sleep. He held his wife against him and hoped the warmth of her body could relax the knots in his belly.

He'd been so worried about losing her, he hadn't thought he might lose himself first.

Jes got up from his bedroll and walked to him. He crouched down by Tier's head. "What's wrong, Papa?" His tone was soft as the night air.

"I'm fine," Tier whispered. "Go back and go to sleep."

Jes shook his head. "You don't think you're fine. I can feel it."

Tier found himself wishing it were the Guardian he was dealing with because Jes was the more stubborn of the two. He wouldn't leave without an explanation for whatever he'd sensed of Tier's fears.

"Tonight, while we were singing, I felt the effects of what the Path did to my Order," he said finally, hoping his voice wouldn't awaken Seraph. He didn't want her to worry any more than she already did. "It didn't last long, and it didn't hurt. It just frightened me."

Jes nodded his head, "All right. Don't worry so much. We won't let anything happen to you, not if we can help it."

Tier smiled, feeling absurdly better for talking to Jes. "I know that. Go on back to sleep."

Two days later, Tier was in the middle of telling the story of a boy who found a phoenix egg when it happened again. One moment they were riding up the trail, Kissel laughing, and the next the horses were stopped and Kissel had his hand on top of Tier's.

"What's wrong?" Kissel asked urgently.

Tier shook his head, smiled, and hoped he hadn't done anything too stupid. "I just forgot the next part of the story. Likely, I'll remember in a bit and finish it for you tonight after supper, if you'd like."