aTier,a she said in a muffled voice. aOh, Tier. We thought you were dead.a He hugged her back, lifting her off the floor. aHey, sprite,a he said, and his voice was as choked as hers.

aWe kept it for you,a said Alinath. aWe kept the bakery for you.a Alinath pulled back, tears running freely down her face. She took a step away from him and then punched him in the belly, turning her shoulder to put the full force of her body into the blow.

aNine years,a she said hotly. aNine years, Tier, and not even a note to say that you were still alive. Damn you, Tier.a Tier was bent over wheezing, but he held up three fingers.

aWe received nothing,a she said angrily. aI didnat even know where to send you word when Father died.a aI sent three letters the first year,a he said, huffing for breath. aWhen I had no reply, I assumed Father washed his hands of me.a Alinath put her hands to her mouth. aIf he ever got your letters, he didnat say anything to me. Darn my fiendish temper. Iam sorry I hit you, Tier.a Tier shook his head, denying the need for apology. aFather told me that someday Iad be sorry I taught you how to hit.a aCome with me,a she said. aMother will want to see you.a She tugged him from the room, leaving Seraph alone with the man at the counter.

aWelcome,a Bandor said after a long awkward moment. aI am Bandor, journeyman baker, and husband to Alinath of the Bakers of Redern.a aSeraph, Raven of the Clan of Isolda the Silent,a Seraph replied with outward composure, knowing her words would tell him no more than his eyes had already noticed.

He nodded, bent to right the basket Alinath had dropped, and began to collect the rolls that had fallen on the floor.

When he was finished he said, aAlinath will be busy with Tier; Iad best get to the baking.a He turned on his heel and headed back through the door that Alinath and Tier had taken, leaving Seraph truly alone.

Uncomfortable and out of place, Seraph sat on a small bench and waited. She should have left on her own as soon as Tier had killed the nobleman who pursued her. Shead have been safe enough then. Here in Tieras village she was as out of place as a crow in a hummingbird nest.

But she stayed where she was until Tier returned alone.

aMy apologies,a he said. aI shouldnat have left you here alone.a She shrugged. aI am hardly going to come to harm here, nor do I have a place in your reunion.a He gave her a faint smile. aYes, well, come with me and Iall make you known to my sister and mother.a She stood up. aIam sorry that your father was not here as well.a His smile turned wry. aI donat know if Iad have been welcomed here if my father were still alive.a aMaybe not right away, but youare persuasive. Head have relented eventually.a She found herself patting his arm and stopped as soon as she realized what she was doing.

Tieras mother and sister awaited them in a small room that had been arranged for a sick person. Alinath sat on a stool next to the bed where Tieras mother held court. The older womanas hair was the same dark color as her childrenas, though streaked with spiderwebs of age. She wasnat old, not by Traveler standards, but her skin was yellow with illness.

Both women looked upon Seraph without favor as Tier made his introductions.

aTier tells us you have no home, child,a said Tieras mother, in a begrudging tonea"as if she expected Seraph to impose on her for a place to stay.

aAs long as there are Travelers, I have a home,a Seraph replied. aIt only remains for me to find them. Thank you for your concern.a aI told them that I would escort you to your people,a said Tier. aThey donat come near Shadowas Fall, so it might take us a few months.a aSo we are to lose you again?a said his mother querulously. aAlinath and Bandor cannot keep up with the worka"every week they toil from dawn to dusk for the bakery, which is yours. When you come back in a few months, I will be dead.a It was said in a dramatic fashion, but Seraph thought that the older woman might be speaking truth.

aI can find my people on my own,a said Seraph.

aDo you hear that, Tier? She is a Traveler and can find her own way,a said Alinath.

aShe is sixteen and a woman alone,a returned Tier sharply. aIall see her safe.a aYou were younger than that when you went off to war,a said Alinath. aAnd you werenat a witch.a She bit off the last word as if it were filthy.

aAlinath,a said Tier in a gentle voice that made his sister pale. aSeraph is my guest here and you will not sharpen your tongue on her.a aI can take care of myself, both here and on the road,a said Seraph, though his defense touched hera"as if the words of a solsenti stranger could hurt her.

aNo,a said Tier, his voice firm. aIf youall house us for the night, Mother, weall start out tomorrow morning.a Tieras mother and sister exchanged a look, as if theyad discussed the situation while Tier had left them alone to retrieve Seraph.

Tieras mother smiled at Seraph. aChild, is there a hurry to find your people? If you cannot tarry here until I pass from this world into the next, could you not stay with us as our guest for a season so that we might not lose Tier so soon after weave found him?a aA Traveler might be harmful to business,a said Seraph. aAs I said, there is no need for Tier to escort me. I am well capable of finding my people by myself.a aIf you go, heall follow you,a said Alinath with resignation. aIt may have been a long time since Iave seen my brother, but I doubt that he has changed so much as to go back on his sworn word.a aStay, please,a said his mother. aWhat few people who will not eat from the table where a Traveler is fed will be more than compensated for by the new business weall get from the curious who will come to the bakery just to catch a glimpse of you.a Seraph was under no illusion that shead be a welcome guest. But there was no doubt either that they wanted her to stay if that were the only way to keep Tier for a while.

aIall stay,a she said reluctantly and felt a weight lift off her shoulders. If she were here then she wasnat fighting demons and watching people die around her because she hadnat been able to protect them. aIall stay for a little while.a aWhere is my brother?a Alinathas voice sounded almost accusing, as if she thought Seraph had done something to Tier.

Seraph looked up from sifting the never-ending supply of flour, one of the unskilled tasks that had fallen to her hands. She glanced pointedly at the empty space next to her where Tier had spent the last three weeks mixing various permutations of yeasted bread. She raised her eyebrows in surprise, as if she hadnat noted that he hadnat taken his usual place this morning. Then she looked back at Alinath and shrugged.

It was rude, but Alinathas sharp question had been rude, too.

Alinathas jaw tightened, but she was evidently still intimidated enough by Seraphas status as Traveler not to speak further. She turned on her heel and left Seraph to her work.

Tier didnat return until the family was sitting down for lunch. He brushed a kiss on the top of Alinathas head and sat down across from her, beside Seraph.

aWhere were you this morning?a Alinath asked.

aRiding,a he said in a tone that welcomed no questions. aPass the carrots please, Seraph.a The rhythms of the bakery came back to Tier as if head not spent the better part of the last decade with a sword in his hand instead of a wooden spoon. He woke before dawn to fire the ovens and, after a few days, quit having to ask Alinath for the proper proportion of ingredients.

He could see the days stretching ahead of him in endless procession, each day just exactly like the one before. The years of soldiering had made him no more resigned to spending the rest of his life baking than head been at fifteen.

Even something as exotic as his stray Traveler didnat alter the pattern of life at his fatheras bakery. She worked as she was asked and seldom spoke, even to him. Only his nightly rides broke the habits of his childhood, but even they had begun to acquire a sameness.

He ought to sell the horse, his mother had told him over dinner yesterday, then he could use the money as a bride price. There were a number of lovely young village women who would love to be a bakeras wife.

This morning head gotten up earlier than usual and tried to subdue his restlessness with worka"to no effect. So as soon as Bandor had come in to watch the baking, Tier left and took Skew out, galloping him over the bridge and up into the mountains until they arrived at a small valley head discovered as a boy. Once there, head explored the valley until the lather on Skewas back had dried and his own desperation loosened under the influence of the sweet-grass smell and mountain breeze.

Part of him was ready to leave this afternoon, to take Seraph and find her people. But the rest of him wanted to put the journey off as long as he could. Once it was over, there would be no further escapes for him. He wasnat fifteen anymore: he was a man, with a manas responsibilities.

aYouare quiet today,a said Seraph as they worked together after lunch. aI was beginning to think that silence was a thing that Rederni avoided at all cost. Always you are telling stories, or singing. Even Bandor hums all the time he works.a He grinned at her as he kneaded dough. aI should have warned you,a he said, athat every man in Redern thinks himself a bard and most of the women, too.a aIn love with the sound of your own voices, the whole lot of you,a said Seraph without rancor, dumping hot water in the scrubbing tub where a collection of mixing bowls awaited cleaning. aMy father always said that too many words cheapened the value of a manas speech.a Tier laughed againa"but Alinath had entered the baking room with an armful of empty boards in time to hear the whole of Seraphas observation.

aMy father said that a silent person is trying to hide something,a she said as she dumped the trays in a stack. aGirl, get the broom and sweep the front room. See that you get the corners so that we donat attract mice.a Tier saw Seraph stiffen, but she grabbed the broom and dustpan.

aAlinath, she is a guest in our house,a Tier bit out as the door closed behind Seraph. aYou donat use that tone to the hired boy. She has done nothing to earn your disrespect. Leave her be.a aShe is a Traveler,a snapped Alinath, but there was an undercurrent of desperation in her voice. aShe bewitches you because she is young and pretty. You laugh with her and youall barely exchange a word with any of us.a How could he explain to her his frustration with the life that so obviously suited her without hurting her feelings? The bakery was smothering him.

When he said nothing, Alinath said, aYouare a man. Bandor is the samea"neither of you see what she is. You think sheas a poor familyless, defenseless woman in need of protection because thatas what she wants you to see.a A flush of temper lit Alinathas eyes as she began to pace. aI see a woman who looks at my brother as a way to wealth and ease that sheall never have when she finds one of those ragtag bands of Travelers. She doesnat want to go to her peoplea"even you must see that. I tell you that if you just give her the chance, sheall snatch you into a marriage-bed.a Tier opened his mouth and then closed it again. He tried to see Seraph as his sister described her, but the image didnat ring true.

aSheas a child,a he said.

aI was married when I was her age.a aShe is a child and a Traveler,a he said. aShead no more look at me that way than shead think of marrying a . . . a horse. She thinks of all of us as if we were a different species.a aOh and you know so much about women,a his sister ranted, though she was careful to keep her voice down so she couldnat be heard in the front room where Seraph was. aYou need to find a good wife. You always liked Kirah. Sheas widowed now and would bring a fair widowas portion with her.a Tier put the dough in the greased bowl head set out for it, covered it with cheesecloth, and then scrubbed his hands in Seraphas tub of cooling water. He shook them dry and took off his fatheras apron and hung it on the hook. Enough, he thought.

aDonat wait dinner for me,a he said and started to leave. He stopped before he opened the door to the front room. aIave been counting too heavily on manners and the memory of my little sister who saw me leave without telling anyone because she understood me enough to know that I had to leave. I see that you need a stronger reason to leave Seraph alone. Just you remember that, for all of her quietness she has a temper as hot as yours. She is a Traveler and a wizard, and if she takes a notion to teach you what that means, neither your tongue nor your fist will do you a bit of good.a He left before she could say anything, closing the door to the baking room firmly behind him.

Seraph glanced his way as he stalked past her, but he said nothing to her. Shead be all right; his warning would keep Alinath away from her for a while.

He couldnat face Seraph right now, not with his sisteras accusations ringing in his ears. Not that he believed what Alinath had said about Seraph for a momenta"but Alinathad opened the way for possibilities that made him uncomfortable. Head never thought much about the peace that Seraphas tart commentary and quiet presence brought him: head just been grateful for the relief from the demands of his family. He didnat want to examine what he felt any closer. So Tier nodded once at Seraph and also to Bandor before leaving the bakery.

Once outside, his steps faltered. Head worn Skew out this morning, so it hardly seemed fair to take him out again. He could walka"but it wasnat exercise he needed, it was escape.

The Heroas Welcome was a tavern and an inn, a conglomeration of several older buildings, and the first building on the road through Redern. It was seldom empty, and when Tier entered it there were a number of men sitting near the kitchen entrance gossiping with each other while the tanneras father, Ciro, coaxed soft music from his viol.

It made Tier think of his grandfather and the grand concerts he and Ciro, who had been the tanner himself then, had put on. If Seraph ever heard the old man play, shead know why Tier would never consider himself a bard in any sense of the word.

He seated himself beside these men head known since he was a child and greeted them by name, older men, all of them, contemporaries of his grandfather. The younger men would come in later, when they were finished with their work and chores.

One of the men had been a soldier in his youth, and Tier spent a little time exchanging stories. The innkeeper, noticing that there was a newcomer, offered Tier ale. He took it, but merely nursed it because the oblivion he sought wouldnat come from alcohol.

Ciro gradually shifted from playing broken bits and pieces into a recognizable song, and an old, toothless man began humming, his tone uncertain with age, but his pitch absolutely true. One after the other the old men began to sing. Tier joined in and let the healing music make the present fade away.

They sang song after song, sometimes pausing while one man tried to hum enough of something head heard long ago for Ciro to remember it, tooa"that man had a memory for music that Tier had only seen his grandfather equal.

It was the first time that he was happy to be home.

aBoy,a said Ciro, asing aThe Hills of Homea with me.a Tier grinned at the familiar appellation. It no longer fit as well as it had when head tagged along after his grandfather. He stood and let the first few notes of the viol pull him into the song. He took the low part of the duet, the part that had been his grandfatheras, while the old manas warm tenor flung itself into the more difficult melody. Singing a duet rather than blending with a group, Tier loosed the power of his voice and realized with momentary surprise that Ciro didnat have to hold back. For the first time, Tieras singing held its own with the old musicianas. Then the old words left no more room for thought. It was one of the magic times, when no note could possibly go astray and any foray into countermelody or harmony worked perfectly. When they finished the last note they were greeted with a respectful silence.

aIn all my wandering, Iave never heard the like. Not even in the palace of the Emperor himself.a A strangeras voice broke the silence.

Tier turned to see a man of about fifty, a well-preserved, athletic fifty, wearing plain-colored clothes of a cut and fit that would have done for a wealthy merchant or lower nobleman, but somehow didnat seem out of place in a rural tavern full of brightly dressed Rederni. His iron-grey hair, a shade darker than his short beard, was tied behind his head in a fashion that belonged to the western seaboard.

He smiled warmly at Tier. aIave heard a great deal about you from these rascals since you returneda"and they didnat lie when they said that your song was a rare treat. Willon, retired Master Trader, at your service. You can be no one but Tieragan Baker back from war.a He held his hand out, and Tier took it, liking the man immediately.

As Tier sat down again, the retired master trader pulled a chair in between two of the others so he sat opposite Tier at the table.

Ciro smiled and said in his shy speaking voice, so at odds with his singing, aMaster Willon has built a fine little store near the end of the road. You should go there and see it, full of bits and things heas collected.a aYou are young to be retiring,a observed Tier. aAnd Redern is an odd place to choose for retirementa"these mountains get cold in the winter.a Master Willon had one of those faces that appeared to be smiling even in reposea"which robbed his grin of not a bit of its effect.

aMy son made Master last year,a he said. aHeas got a fire that will take him fara"but not if he spends all of his days competing with me for control of the business. So I retired.a Willon laughed quietly and shook his head. aBut it wasnat as easy as that. The men who serve my house had been mine for thirty years. Theyad listen to my son, nod their heads, and come to me to see if I liked their orders. So I had to take myself out of Taela, and Redern came to mind.a He raised his tankard to Ciro. aMy first trip as a caravan master I came by this very inn and was treated to the rarest entertainment Iad ever hearda"two men who sang as if the gods themselves were their audience. I thought Iad heard the finest musicians in the world in Taelaas courts, but Iad never heard anything like that. Business is business, gentlemen. But music is in my soula"if not my voice.a aIf itas music you like, thereas plenty here,a said Tier agreeably as a small group of younger men came through the inn door.

aWell look what decided to drop by at last,a said one of them. aYou wiggle out from under your sisteras thumb, Tier?a Tier had greeted them all since head returned from war, of course, but that had been under different circumstances, when they were customers or he was. The tavern doors made them all kindred.

Too much so.

With the younger men came less music and more talka"and they must have been talking to his mother because most of the talk had to do with his upcoming marriage. The question was not when he was going to marry; it was to whom.

Tier excused himself earlier than he had expected to and found himself leaving with Master Willon.

aDonat let them fret you,a Willon said.

aI wonat,a Tier said. He almost stopped there, but couldnat quite halt his bitternessa"maybe because a stranger might understand better than any of his friends and kin head left behind in the tavern. aThereas more to life than wedding and breeding and baking bread.a He started walking and Willon fell into step beside him. aIave heard as much praise for your baking as I have for your singing. You donat want to be a baker?a aBaking . . .a Tier struggled to put a finger on the thing that bothered him about his familyas business. aBaking is like washinga"the results are equally temporary.a He gave a half-laugh. aThatas arrogant of me, isnat it? That Iad like to do something that means more, something that will outlast me the way these buildings have outlasted the men who built them.a aI hadnat thought of it that way before,a said Willon slowly. aBut immortality . . . I think thatas a basic instinct rather than the product of pride. It goes toward the same things that they were trying to push you into. How did you put it? Wedding and breeding. A manas immortality can be found in his children.a Children? Tier hadnat been aware that head thought about the matter at all, but the need was there, buried beneath the aI canat breathe with the weight of my familyas wishesa tightness in his chest.

aSo what do you want to do, if not bake?a asked Willon, betraying his foreignness with the question. No Rederni would have suggested that he do anything else. aWould you go back to fighting if there were a war to be had?a aNot soldiering,a Tier said firmly. aIave killed more than any man oughta"the only product of warmaking is death.a Tier took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly as he thought. Maybe it was seeing his little valley again on his morning ride, but something inside of him vibrated like one of Ciroas viol strings when he finally said, aIad like to farm.a Willon laughed, but it was a comforting laugh. aIad not think that growing crops would be much more permanent than baking breada"just takes a bit longer to get to the final product.a But it wasnat. It was different. Tier stopped walking so that he could encompass that difference in words that didnat sound as stupid out loud as they did to himself, stupid but true.

aIave known farmers,a he said slowly. aA lot of the men who fought the Fahlarn were farmers, fighting for their lands. They are as much a part of their lands as flour is a part of bread.a He shook his head at himself and grinned sheepishly because it sounded stupider out loud. aThe land is immortal, Master Willon, and a farmer has a part of that immortality.a aSo are you going to be a farmer?a asked Willon with interest.

aAnd marry and breed?a Tier said lightly over the longing Willonas words produced. aNot likely.a He began walking again, though theyad passed the bakery a while back. He had no desire to go home yet. aThereas not a woman in Redern whoad marry me and let me go farming. I know the money farming brings in and that bakery brings in ten times as mucha"and it would break my familyas heart.a aFarmers donat make much,a agreed the master trader. aBut if you look around you might find a woman whoad rather be a farmeras wife than live in the village under the tyranny of her neighbors.a That night Seraph got up out of her cot in the small room theyad given her and climbed out of the window into the garden that backed the house, her blanket serving as a cloak. The solid walls made her feel closed in and trapped. Most of her nights had been spent in tents rather than buildings.

She found the bench that had served as her bed on more than one night since shead chosen to stay here and lay down on it again to look up at the stars.

She needed to go. These people owed her nothing, not the food she ate or the blanket she wrapped herself in. She did not belong here. She hadnat heard the argument that Tier and Alinath had while she swept the front room, but shead heard the raised voices.

Tomorrow, she would go. In two weeks or three she would find a clan that would take her in.

Resolute, she closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep. A long time later, exhaustion had more success than her will and she relaxed into slumber.

A rotten tomato hit Arvageas shoulder while the solsenti boys bounced with nervous bravado. Didnat they know that the old man could kill them all with a touch of the magic he knew? Didnat they know that he and Seraph had spent the better part of the past two days banishing a khurlogh, a demon spirit, that had been preying on nighttime visitors to the town well?

Instead her teacheras arthritic fingers touched the mess on his shoulder and transformed it into a fresh, ripe tomato.

aMy thanks, young sirs,a he said. aA rare addition to my dinner.a The scene faded as Seraph stirred restlessly in protest of the old memory. She quieted and her dream took up again at a different point in time.

Her fatheras fingers petted her hair as she leaned against his knee, half-asleep in the aftermath of a full meal and the warmth of the nearby fire.

aThe entire clan gone?a her father said, a small tremor in his bassy voice. aAre you certain it was the Imperial Army?a Their visitor nodded his head wearily. aAs far as weave been able to determine, the last village that they passed through complained to the commander of the imperial troops stationed nearby. Told them that the Travelers kidnapped a pair of young women. The troops came upon the clan and massacred them from grandfather to day-old babe. Turns out that the women were taken by banditsa"the imperial troops found them on their way back to the village.a They buried Arvage in a wilderness glen, just as he had wanted. Seraph herself had thrown in the first, symbolic, handful of earth. Head died trying to work magic that he could no longer harness because the pain in his joints broke through his fearsome control. Head known the risk.

In one of those things possible only in dreams, Arvage stood beside her while her father and brothers buried him.

aIt is our task to take care of them or die,a he told her. aOur purpose is to keep the shadows at bay for the solsenti who are helpless against them. This is a Ravenas task before us, and I am Ravena"as are you. You arenat old enough and I am too old, but we do as we must.a Tier hadnat lived in the comfortable safety of the village long enough to sleep through small noises in the night. Head heard Seraph go out, as she often did, and head gone back to sleep afterward. But head awakened again.

He waited for the noise to repeat itself, and when it did he pulled on his pants and slipped out his window to the garden where Seraph whimpered in the helpless throes of a nightmare.

The man was from the Clan of Gilarmist the Fat, running a message to another clan. Head flirted with Seraphas oldest sister and died in the night. Her sister died the next morning, drowning in the fluid that they couldnat keep from filling her lungs.

By the time four days had passed only Seraph and her brother Ushireh were left to bury the dead. Ushireh worked until he passed out. Shead been so afraid that he was dead, too; it had taken her a long time to convince herself that he was only unconscious. Shead dragged him away from the dead theyad gathered together in the center of the camp, then shead burned it alla"camp and bodies alike. It had been weeks before she could work enough magic to light a fire.

When she managed it at last, Ushirehas body sat up in the pyre, and his head turned until he could fix his glowing eyes on her. Seraph shrank back and tried to close her eyes. As if in death head acquired the magic head so envied her in life, his will kept her from looking away from him.

aYou left me,a he said. aYou left your duty. You cannot run forever, Seraph, Raven of the Clan of Isolda the Silent.a She awoke with a gasp and a cry and was gathered into warm arms and rocked gently.

aShh,a said Tier, ait was a dream. Youare safe.a She buried her head in his shoulder and gave up a lifetime of self-control to sob raggedly against him. aI canat do it,a she said. aI donat want to be a Traveler. They all die, and I have to burn them and bury them. Iam so tired of death and duty. I want . . . I want . . .a What she wanted was tied away from her in strands of guilt and duty, but she found a fair approximation of it in the safety of Tieras arms.

aShh,a he said. aYou donat have to go if you donat want to.a His words passed over and around her, the sense lost to her grief and guilt, but the sound of his voice comforted her.

From the third of the three windows that looked out into the garden, Alinath watched her brother hold the witch head brought home and she clenched her fists before she turned away.

When the worst of it had passed, embarrassment made Seraph turn away and wipe her face with the corner of the blanket.

aSorry,a she muttered. aIt was a nightmare.a aAh,a said Tier as he let her pull away from him. aIt sounded worse than that to me.a She shrugged, not looking at him. aMemories make the worst nightmares, my father always said.a aYou donat have to go find another clan,a he said. aYou can stay here.a She tried to stifle her involuntary laugh. It wouldnat be polite to disparage the hospitality of his family. aNo, I canat. Thank you. But no.a aI canat leave now,a said Tier. aBut I fear it wonat be long. Mother complains and frets until itas hard to believe that sheas sick at alla"but sheas losing weight and her color is much worse. Can you wait?a Seraph held herself still. Could she wait to take up her duties? Oh, yes. Wait forever if she could. But was it the right thing to do?

At last she nodded. aIall wait.a aGood.a Tier sat with her a bit, while the sweat dried on her back. With the air of a man coming to a decision, he took something from around his neck and put it into her hands.

aThis came with me into war and kept me safe enough through any number of battlefields. As I am unlikely to need it now, Iad like you to take it.a She fingered the collection of large wooden beads carefully.

aTheyare not much to look at,a he said hastily, and with a little embarrassment, she thought. aBut they carry the blessing of our priest. Youave met Karadoc?a She nodded. The priest had sought her out to give her his sympathies on the death of her brother. The only Rederni aside from Tier who had. She hadnat been quite sure how to deal with a priesta"Travelers had little use for the minions of the godsa"but head seemed like a good person.

aKaradoc gave me that for helping him tend his garden after he broke his wrist one summer.a aIt must have been more than that,a Seraph said thoughtfully. aPeople donat give gifts like this lightly.a He stiffened, aItas just a bunch of wooden beads, Seraph.a She put them against her face and rubbed against them like a cat, soaking in the warmth that emanated from the battered wood. aOld wooden beads,a she said. aI canat tell exactly how old, but theyave been given in love and worn that way for a long, long time. They comfort mea"did they comfort you while you were far from your home?a She didnat wait for his answer, aTell me the story of your gardening for Karadoc?a aI was young,a he said finally. aKaradoc is . . . well, youave met him. He always took time to talk to me, listening to me when my father and I fought.a His voice hadnat fallen into the cadences of storytelling; he told this story hesitantly. aKaradoc broke his wrist; I told you that. His garden is his pride and joy, and it started to get overgrown almost immediately. I suppose being the priest of the god of green and growing things has a certain influence on your garden.a aHe hired a boy to tend it, but when harvest season came the boy had to help his father in the field, and Karadoc couldnat find another one. So I started getting up a little earlier in the morning so I could work on it a bit.a Seraph smiled a little; the beads and Tieras company had worked their own magic. aHe didnat know you were doing it.a aWell, I wasnat certain that I would do it more than once or twice. A baker gets up early to miss cooking in the heat of the day. I didnat want to promise something I couldnat do.a aAnd Karadoc found you out,a said Seraph. aWhen you wouldnat take any pay, he gave you these.a He nodded.

Seraph put the necklace around her throat. Gifts could not be returned, only appreciated. She would find something she could do to repay him for his kindness to her and his gift. A Traveleras blessing could be a useful thing.

aThank you for this,a she said. aI will treasure it as long as it remains in my hands and pass it on as you have, as Karadoc did.a They lapsed into a comfortable silence.

aA man asked me today what Iad do if I could do something besides baking and soldiering,a he said at last.

aWhat did you answer?a aFarming,a he said.

She nodded. aThe land gives back everything you put into it and a little more, if you have the knack.a aIf you could do anything, be anything, what would it be?a She stilled. She knew about villages, knew that most menas fates were set in stone when they were little more than children and apprenticed to a tradea"or else they were cast off never to be more than itinerant workers or soldiers. Womenas lives were dictated by their husbands.

Travelers were a little more free than that usually. A bowyer could decide to smith if he wanted to, as long as he continued to contribute to the clan. There were no guilds to restrict a person from doing as he willed. And women, women ran the clan. Only the lives of the Ordered were set out from the moment a Raven pronounced them gifted at birth.

No Traveler would ever have asked a Raven what she wanted to be.

The silence must have lasted too long because he said, aThat question took me aback, today, too. But I learned something. What would you do?a aRavens donat marry,a she said abruptly. He was easy to talk to, especially in the dark. aWe canat afford the distraction. We donat do the normal chores of the clan. No cooking or firewood gathering. We donat darn our own clothes or sew them.a aYou cook well,a he said.

aThatas because Ushireh couldnat cook at all. I learned a lot when we were left on our own. But being a Ravenas not like being a baker, Tier. You could leave it and become a soldier. You can leave it now and become a farmer if you want. But I canat leave being a Raven behind.a aBut if you coulda"what would you do?a She leaned back on her hands and swung her feet back and forth, the bench being somewhat tall for her. In a dreamy, smiling voice she said, aI would be a wife, like the old harridan who runs an inn in Boarsdock on the western coast. She has a double handful of children, all of them taller than her, and they all cringe when she walks by. Her husband is an old sailing man with one leg. I donat think Iave ever heard him say anything but, ayes, dear.a a She caught him by surprise and Tier gave a crack of laughter that he had to cover his mouth to suppress.

Smiling her satisfaction in the dark, she thought that the oddest thing about her statement was that it was the truth. That old woman ran her inn and her children and their wives and husbands and they all, every one of them, loved her. She lived in the daylight world, where shadow things wouldnat dare show their faces and the children in her family had no more responsibility than grooming a few horses or cleaning a room could provide.