The House Of Gaian

small and black floated down from the branches above her head. She caught the feather, then studied the crow that was preening itself while watching her.
    Just a crow. And yet...
    She watched the crows drift across the small clearing. One took flight, flying so low she could have reached up and touched it. Then another followed. Then a handful. Finally the rest of the rook flew over the clearing to the trees on the other side.
    “Seeing them reminds me of something I’ve wondered about,“ she said.
    Morag’s attention remained focused on the crows. Eventually she relaxed and looked at Ashk. “
    What have you wondered about?”
    “All the Foe who are Death’s Servants are crows or ravens in their other form. They aren’t the only Fae who have that form, but I don’t recall one of Death’s Servants who wasn‘t one or the other. Why is that?”
    Morag looked at her a long time before saying softly, “Perhaps it’s because crows and ravens are Death’s servants, too.”
    Ashk dropped the feather, turned on her heel, and hurried over to where the others waited with the saddled horses. Too many others. This wasn’t some gentry hunt where they chased a fox over the fields for exercise and amusement. What she was hunting this morning could kill them. Of course, what was coming toward them could kill them all just as swiftly.
    As she reached them, Varden was speaking: “—mentioned hearing something moving near the brook, but nothing came near the grave. One man thought he saw something. From the size of it and how it moved, he figured it was one of the Small Folk. They haven’t approached any of the men guarding the grave, but we’ve seen them a couple of times at dusk or right before dawn. I guess they’re keeping their own watch.”
    When Liam noticed her, he stiffened, obviously braced for an argument. “I’m coming with you. My land, my people. If something is out there, I’m not sitting back and letting someone else protect what’s mine.”
    ‘’You have another task,“ Ashk said brusquely. ”We need to move up companies of men to guard the road into the village. The villagers and the barons will listen to you. Sheridan, Varden. Do you know the low rise that borders the field with that tumble of stones?“
    “We’ve both seen it,” Sheridan said, looking at Varden, who nodded.
    “Sheridan, you take the western huntsmen. Varden, you take the huntsmen from your Clan. I want that rise guarded. Now. The Black Coats’ army has to move across that field or down the road in order to strike at the village or the Old Place.”
    “They’re moving?” Liam said. “Are you sure?”
    Ashk hesitated, then shook her head. “It’s not something I know, it’s something I feel.”
    “Messages from the spirits of the woods?” Selena asked.
    Ashk jolted, too startled for a moment to reply. How — ? Of course . Selena must have heard the story about how the Fae came to be, just as Rhyann had.
    “It is my gift that hears the warning, not my head,” she said slowly.
    Selena nodded. “Then it’s a warning we should heed.”
    Liam shook his head. “We aren’t sure the Black Coats are moving, but we are sure there was something close to the Old Place last night.”
    “It’s easy enough,” Donovan said. “I’ll ride to the village and on to Squire Thurston’s place to coordinate the defense of the village and the guarding of the main road.”
    “I’ll go with Donovan,” Aiden said. “I can take care of sending and receiving messages. Lyrra can do the same here.”
    “I—” Lyrra began to protest. She pressed her lips together, then took a deep breath and nodded. “All right. Yes, you’re right. If the Bard and the Muse can’t relay messages, no one can.
    Gwenn, Gwynith, and Rhyann can help me with that—and with keeping a record of any wounded who may be brought here.“
    Ashk walked over to her horse. As she swung into the saddle, she found comfort in the feel of a full quiver of arrows resting against her back. “Let’s ride.”
    “The men are ready, Master Adolfo,” the guard captain said.
    “You understand your orders?” Adolfo asked as he sipped his wine. No sign of disapproval that he took wine so early in the morning. Not today. Never again.
    “Yes, Master. One arm of the army will seize the village. The other arm will take possession of that low rise, set up the catapults, and crush the Fae and the other witch-lovers when they move against it.”
    “Let it rain