CHAPTER 11

Early the next morning, Alinath came to call. Seraph had already sent the boys and Rinnie out to the barn to sort through the tools and harness for things that they would need on their travel. Hennea was still asleep in the loft.

“I didn’t know how soon you were going,” said Alinath, in a sideways apology for the hour of her call. “I brought this.” She set down a large basket of journey bread on the table. “We made it yesterday so it should last you a month or more if you need it.” She hadn’t met Seraph’s eyes since she came in.

“How is Bandor?” asked Seraph.

“Almost himself again, though he doesn’t remember much,” said Alinath, at last looking up. “Thank you for giving him back to me.”

“I’m glad you came,” Seraph said after they’d both taken a seat on the kitchen bench, which was pulled away from its customary place at the table. “Otherwise I would have come to you. The trip to Taela is a long one, and getting Tier back might be dangerous. I hate to take Rinnie on a journey like that. Would you watch her for me?”

“Of course,” Alinath said after a moment of shock. “Of course I will. There’s plenty of space—she can have Tier’s old room.”

“Thank you,” smiled Seraph. “I told her that Bandor would not be feeling well for a while and you needed her help. Give her something to do so she doesn’t think I’m a liar.”

“I’ll do that,” said Alinath. “Karadoc wanted me to tell you that the other Elders were happy with his story. All except Willon, who saw Bandor carrying Rinnie up to the temple. But Willon agreed to keep the real story quiet.”

Alinath reached into a large pouch she carried and brought out several pieces of folded parchment. “Willon sent these. Maps, he said. And Seraph”—Alinath set a bag of coins on the table—“these are from the bakery’s accounts. Use them as you need to—I’d like to have Tier back also.”

Seraph took the coins. “Thank you. I won’t deny that these will make the journey easier.”

“I’ll come tomorrow morning about this time,” said Alinath, getting up briskly. “To get Rinnie, and to see you safely on your way.”

“Thank you, Alinath,” said Seraph.

Alinath stopped at the doorway and turned back. “No, Seraph. Thank you. I appreciate your trust, especially after…”

“He had no choice,” said Seraph. “Remember that. Even shadowed, Bandor believed he was saving Rinnie.”

The next morning was cold and the sun a pale line against the mountain as they adjusted the packs on Skew. Gura whined at Seraph from his self-appointed guard post by the packs still to be loaded.

“Fool dog,” Seraph said, not unkindly. “You’re coming, too.”

“But not me,” said Rinnie from the porch.

“I need you to take care of your aunt and uncle for me,” said Seraph. “Aunt Alinath would like nothing better than to drop everything and come with us, but she needs to take care of Bandor and the bakery.” She took a deep breath, “And I need you safe. Please.”

Rinnie stared at her hard. “All right,” she said. “I’ll stay.”

Seraph, Hennea, Jes, and Lehr set out for Taela before the sun was full up while Alinath and Rinnie watched from the porch.

A few miles to the south, the path from the farm joined to the main road. Though Willon’s maps were useful, finding a road to Taela was no more difficult than finding a stream that would lead to the ocean.

“It’s hard leaving Rinnie behind.” Lehr patted Skew’s neck. “I miss her already.”

“I miss everything,” said Jes happily.

Lehr lost his grim air and thumped Jes on his pack where it rested between his shoulders, “I see that you do.”

“Do you know where your clan is?” Seraph ask Hennea, who walked beside her at the back of the small caravan.

“No,” said Hennea. “But I can find them when I want to. I’ll be of more use to you than I’ll be to them.”

“Hennea,” said Seraph softly.

“Yes?”

“If you ever lie to me for your own ends again—as you did when I killed the priest for you—there will be a reckoning.”

“I will bear that in mind,” Hennea said.

“See that you do.”

Seraph deliberately cut the first day’s travel short. Hennea was looking pale and drawn; though her arm was healing nicely, it was still painful. The tent that they’d brought was the old one Seraph had used when she’d traveled with her brother. Seraph expected it would take a few days of practice before they could put it up in the dark.

After supper, she left the boys to clean up and took out Isolda the Silent’s mermora.

“So you are the last survivor of your clan,” said Hennea.

Seraph loosened the top of her bag so Hennea could see the assorted mermori she carried. “The last of any number of clans,” she said.

“How many?” Hennea asked in a horrified whisper.

“Two hundred and twenty-four,” replied Seraph.

Hennea frowned. “Why did they all come to you?”

“You mean as opposed to a clan leader who actually had a clan?” Seraph shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve given it a lot of thought over the years. The last eighty-three I found in one cache, presumably taken from one leader. That could mean that the mermori are being drawn by the other mermori. The more mermori someone has, the more likely it is that a lost clan’s mermori will come to them. Or perhaps Shadow’s Fall might have some influence on it.”

“It’s more than that,” said Hennea slowly. “How did you find a solsenti who was Ordered? Why did the two of you have three Ordered children? It isn’t like breeding horses; the Orders go where they will—though I really did think that the Order bearer had to at the least be of Traveler blood. I don’t know many clans who can claim five Ordered people, nor have I heard of a family where every single person in the family was born to an Order.”

“It frightens me,” admitted Seraph, glancing at the boys, who were packing away the last of the dinnerware. “My father’s favorite saying was, ‘When you find a coin on the road and pick it up, it’s certain that you’ll need twice that ere you walk another mile.’ He used to say that the Orders went where they were most necessary. I don’t want to be in the middle of an event that needs a Raven, Owl, Eagle, Falcon, and Cormorant.”

Hennea smiled a little. “Neither do I. Maybe I should go my own way.”

She was joking, but Seraph nodded solemnly. “I would keep that in mind. Having you help us find Tier would be very helpful—but certainly dangerous. There is no need for you to risk your life for someone you’ve never even met.”

Hennea laughed and shook her head. “That’s the Raven’s calling, you know that. Go out and risk your life for someone who’d just as soon that you burned as lived.”

“Perverse,” grinned Seraph. “It did always seem that the ones who most needed help were the ones who wanted it least. Anyway, I got the mermora out to call Isolda’s house and see if someone in her time had managed something like the Ordered stones.”

“They didn’t have the Orders when Isolda’s library was collected,” said Hennea.

“No,” agreed Seraph. “But they did a lot of evil in the search for knowledge. They might have come up with something that will help us. I don’t want to destroy those stones without understanding what that will do to the Order trapped there.”

Jes and Lehr, finished with their tasks, came to see what Seraph was doing. She pushed the mermora into the dirt and called Isolda’s house into being.

“Come in,” she said, “come and be welcome to the house of Isolda the Silent.”

They settled into the patterns of journeying that Seraph remembered. Hennea and Jes in front, Seraph and Lehr bringing up the rear with Skew. Gura scouted about, taking anxious trips back to make certain they were all still walking as he’d left them. After a week’s travel, Seraph felt as if she were slowly sloughing off the skin of the Redern farmer’s wife she had been.