Tavi slipped out of his room, down the stairs, and through the silence of the last shreds of night before dawn. He entered the cavernous shadows of the great hall, noting a faint glow of light in the kitchens beside the great hall. Old Bitte rarely slept more than a few hours a night, and Tavi heard her moving through the kitchen, preparing it for the coming breakfast meal.
He unbolted the door and left the great hall for Bernardholt's courtyard. One of the steadholt's dogs lifted his head from the empty barrel he used as a kennel, and Tavi stooped to scratch the old hound's ears. The dog thumped his tail against the barrel's interior and laid his head back down to sleep. Tavi drew his cloak over his shoulders against the chill of the dying autumn night and opened the postern door to leave the safety of Bernardholt.
The door opened to reveal his uncle Bernard, leaning casually against the doorway, dressed in leathers and a heavy green cloak for a day in the wilderness beyond the steadholt's fields. He lifted an apple to his mouth and crunched into it. Bernard was a large man with broad shoulders and the heavy muscles of hard labor. His dark hair, cropped close in a Legion cut, showed a fleck or two of grey, though none such appeared in his close-trimmed beard. He wore a quiver of hunting arrows at his side, riding beside his Legion-issued sword, and he carried the stave to the lightest of his bows unstrung in his hand.
Tavi drew up short, with a flutter of apprehension. Then he spread his hands, silently conceding the victory to Bernard, and then offered his uncle a faint smile. "How did you know?"
Bernard returned the smile, though there was a wary cast to it. "Fade saw you drinking a lot of extra water last night, after you came in so late, and pointed it out to me. It's an old soldier's trick to get up early."
"Oh," Tavi said. "Yes, sir."
"I counted the flocks," Bernard said. "Looks like we might be a few heads short."
"Yes, sir," Tavi said. He licked his lips nervously. "I'm going to bring them in now."
"I was under the impression that you had done so last night. Since you marked down a full count on the tally slate."
Tavi's cheeks grew warm, and he felt glad for the dimness. "Dodger led his ewes and their lambs out last night, when I was trying to bring the south flock in. I didn't want you to worry."
Bernard shook his head. "Tavi, you know that today is important. The other Steadholders will be arriving for the truthfind, and I don't need any distractions."
"I'm sorry, Uncle. Why don't you stay here, then? I can find Dodger and bring him back in."
"I don't like you wandering around the valley alone, Tavi."
"I'm going to have to eventually, uncle. Unless you planned on following me around for the rest of my life."
Bernard sighed. "Your aunt would murder me."
Tavi gritted his teeth. "I can do it by myself. I'll be careful and be back before noon."
"That's not really the point. You were supposed to bring them in last night," Bernard said. "What kept you from it?"
Tavi swallowed. "Um. I'd promised to do someone a favor. I didn't have time to get them both done before dark."
Bernard sighed. "Crows, Tavi. I really thought you had done a lot of growing up this season. That you were learning to handle responsibility."
Tavi felt suddenly sick to his stomach. "You're not going to gift me the sheep, are you?"
Bernard said, "I don't begrudge you getting your fair dues. I was glad-I am glad to help you get started with your own flock. But I'm not just going to throw them away. If you can't show me that you'll take care of them properly, I can't give them to you."
"It isn't like I'd be keeping them long."
"Perhaps not. It's the principle of the thing, lad. Nothing comes free."
"But Uncle," Tavi protested. "It's my only chance to make something of myself."
Bernard grunted. "Then you probably shouldn't have chosen to..." He frowned. "Tavi, what did you need to do that was more important than the flocks?"
Tavi's face grew warmer yet. "Um."
Bernard arched an eyebrow and said, "Oh, I see."
"See what?"
"There's a girl."
Tavi knelt and tightened the straps on his boots to hide his scowl and said, "Why would you say that?"
"You're a fifteen-year-old boy, Tavi. There's always a girl."
"No, there isn't," Tavi insisted.
Bernard mused over that for a moment and shrugged. "When you want to talk about it, let me know." He pushed himself off the wall with one shoulder and strung his bow with one leg and the pressure of an arm. "We'll discuss your gifting later. Where do you think we should pick up Dodger's trail?"
Tavi drew his leather sling from his pouch and put a couple of smooth stones into the pocket of his tunic. "Won't Brutus be able to find him?"
Bernard smiled. "I thought you said you could do this on your own."
Tavi frowned at his uncle and scrunched up his nose, thinking. "Cold's coming on, and they know it. They'll want evergreens for shelter and for food. But the gargants were turned out to forage on the southern slope of the valley, and they won't go anywhere near gargants if they can help it." Tavi nodded. "North. Dodger has taken them into the pine hollows over the causeway."
Bernard nodded in approval. "Good. Remember that furycrafting is no substitute for intelligence, Tavi."
"And intelligence is no substitute for a fury," Tavi muttered sourly. He kicked at the ground, scuffing up a small cloud of dust and dried, dead grasses.
Bernard laid a heavy hand on Tavi's shoulder, squeezed, and then started walking north, down the old lane worn by the passage of carts and draft animals and feet. "It's not as bad as you think, Tavi. Furies aren't everything."
"Says the man with two of them," Tavi said, following him. "Aunt Isana says you could challenge for full Citizenship if you wanted to."
Bernard shrugged. "If I wanted to, perhaps. But I didn't come into my furies until I was almost your age."
"But you were a slow bloomer," Tavi said. "I'm way past that. No one's ever been my age and furyless."
Bernard sighed. "You don't know that, Tavi. Relax, boy. It will come to you in time."
"That's what you've told me since I was ten. If I'd had furies of my own, I could have stopped Dodger and still..." He choked down his anger before he could blurt out the words.
Uncle Bernard glanced back at Tavi, smiling with only his eyes. "Come on, lad. Let's pick up the pace. I need to be back before the other Stead-holders arrive."
Tavi nodded, and they broke into a mile-eating lope down the winding lane. The sky began to lighten as they passed the apple orchards, the beehives, and then the northern fields laid fallow for a season. The lane wound through a forest of mostly oak and maple, where most of the trees were so ancient that only the most meager grass and brush could grow beneath them. By the time the predawn pale blue had given way to the first tints of orange and yellow, they had reached the last stretch of woods before leaving the lands of Bernardholt. There the forest was not so old, and smaller trees and brush, some of it still living despite the lateness of the season, stood thick and heavy. Golden and scarlet leaves covered the dried skeletons of the smaller brush, and the naked, sleeping trees swayed in a chorus of gentle creaking.
And then something in his surroundings brought an odd kind of pressure to Tavi's senses. He stopped and let out a short, warning hiss of breath. From a full jog, Bernard abruptly dropped to a crouch, and Tavi instinctively followed suit.
Bernard looked silently back at Tavi, cocking an eyebrow in a silent question.
Tavi stayed on all fours and crawled up beside his uncle. He kept his voice to a whisper between panting breaths and said, "Up ahead, in that last
stand of trees by the brook There's usually a covey of quail there, but I saw them heading along the lane "
"You think something spooked them out," Bernard said He murmured, "Cyprus," and flicked his right hand toward the trees beside him in a signal to the lesser of his two furies Tavi looked up and saw a shape glide down from one of the trees-vaguely humanoid and no larger than a child It turned pale green eyes toward Bernard for a moment, crouching down like an animal Leaves and twigs seemed to writhe together to cover whatever shape lay beneath them Cyprus tilted its head to one side, focusing on Bernard, and then made a sound like wind rustling through the leaves and vanished into the brush
Tavi was winded from the run and struggled to slow his breathing "What is it'" he whispered
Bernard's eyes slipped out of focus for a moment before he answered "You were right Well done, boy There's someone hiding near the footbridge They've got a strong fury with them "
"Bandits'?" Tavi whispered
His uncle's eyes narrowed "It's Kord "
Tavi frowned "I thought the other Steadholders were supposed to be arriving later today And why would they be hiding in the trees'"
Bernard grunted, rising "Let's go find out "
Tavi followed his uncle on down the road Bernard walked with quiet purpose toward the causeway, as if he had every intention of traveling past the hidden men Then, without warning, he spun to his left, arrow in hand, drew back the bow and loosed a grey-feathered shaft at a clump of bushes and detritus a few paces from the near side of the small, stone footbridge that crossed a murmuring brook
Tavi heard a scream, and the leaves and bushes thrashed wildly A moment later a boy about Tavi's age emerged from the bushes, one hand clenched upon the seat of his breeches He had a broad, strong build and a face that would be handsome if it had been less petulant Bittan, of Kord-holt, Kord's youngest son "Bloody crows'" the boy howled "Are you insane'"
"Bittan'" called Bernard in obviously feigned surprise "Oh dear I had no idea that was you back there "
From further down the trail, a second young man rose out of hiding- Kord's eldest son, Aric He was leaner than his brother, taller, and several years older He wore his hair pulled back into a tail, and pensive frown lines
had already established themselves between his eyebrows. He watched Bernard warily and called, "Bittan? You all right?"
The boy screamed, furious, "No I'm not all right! I'm shot!"
Tavi peered at the other boy and muttered to his uncle, "You shot him?"
"Just grazed him."
Tavi grinned. "Maybe you hit him in the brain."
Bernard smiled a wolfish smile and said nothing.
From still further back in the brush, leaves crackled and dead wood snapped. A moment later, Steadholder Kord emerged from the bracken. He wasn't terribly tall, but his shoulders seemed too large for him, and his brawny arms looked unnaturally long. Kord wore a patched and faded grey tunic, badly in need of a thorough washing, and heavy gargant-hide leggings. He wore his symbol of office, the heavy chain of a Steadholder around his neck. The chain was smudged and looked greasy, but Tavi supposed that it made a better match for his unkempt greying hair and patchy beard.