to one another, so lacking in pride that they could not even accept the responsibility for their own downfall.
Kors stopped in front of a large tent and they both heard Isfain's harsh voice snap out. "Sit here and wait, boy, as I told you. Your mother has business with Benroln and then you may do as you wish."
Hennea's eyebrows climbed. "Supposed to be keeping him calm, is he?" she murmured to Kors, pleased when she saw that he was unhappy with what they'd just heard as well.
She swept open the tent with none of the usual courtesies. Isfain was standing in front of her and she shoved him ungently aside to see Jes perched unhappily on a tall stool in the middle of the tent. It was the only object in the tent - if Benroln had indeed given orders to keep Jes calm he had failed marvelously.
"Woman, watch what you do!" snapped Isfain.
Evidently, he didn't care for her entrance. She ignored him.
"Hennea," Jes said in soft-spoken relief. "I need to see Mother." One hand rubbed at the leather strap he wore around his neck, turning it about as if to find a buckle or lacing that wasn't there. To Hennea's eyes the leather was as smooth as if it had just grown around his neck.
"What are you doing here?" said Isfain. "Does Benroln know you are here?"
She ignored him again.
"It's all right, Jes," she said to the dark young man sitting restlessly on the battered old stool. "Benroln wants to force your mother to curse some poor farmer's land for money. They're holding you with an artifact that keeps your other spirit at bay - there's nothing wrong with you. Lehr went with your mother."
She didn't know how much he'd understand in his current state so she was gratified when Jes's swaying slowed down.
"They are safe?" he said.
"I don't think that Benroln will be able to do anything to Seraph that she doesn't want to happen. Lehr is with her."
He swallowed, "And you are safe here."
"Yes," she agreed. "I'm safe with you. Would you help me with my knitting until your mother's business is completed?"
She opened her bag and gave him a skein that she'd tangled just for this purpose. After a little hesitation he took it from her. He stared at it for a minute, but at last his long-fingered hands began to work patiently at untangling knots. The rough wool thread had a mind of its own, and it would take a while to unravel the mess she'd made.
She settled at his feet and began knitting with a ball he'd rolled for her yesterday. She leaned lightly against his leg, prepared to shift away if she made him uncomfortable. The long muscles of his thigh softened and relaxed, so she let him take a bit more of her weight.
She glanced into his eyes and saw the fury trapped impotently in the net of the foundrael. She shivered and looked back at the sweater she knitted. For a while he seemed calmer. Perhaps if the tent had not been so starkly furnished, or if that idiot Isfain had quit looking at Jes as if he expected him to explode, Jes would have been all right.
"I don't like this," said Jes, abruptly throwing his yarn on the ground. "I need... I need to be somewhere."
Hennea looked up at him and saw the despair in his eyes. Enough, she thought. "Wait a moment," she told him.
Kors was not a problem. He knew what was right when someone shoved it in his face, as much as he wished he didn't. Isfain, though, Isfain might be more difficult.
He was one of those gifted with magic, though not Ordered. Hennea knew that other Ravens had a tendency to look upon unordered mages as weak, but she was not so foolish. A good wizard used subtlety as well as power, and like a well-knit wool sweater, their spells could be difficult to unravel.
The trick with wizards was not to give them time to do anything.
"Isfain," she said simply. "Hush, be still."
It wouldn't have been worth doing to a Raven, because they needed neither word nor movement to call magic. A wizard could call magic that way, too - but it was a poor business they made of it. It would be a long time before Isfain worked his way free of her binding.
"What?" asked Kors incredulously, surprised at Hennea's rudeness.
She put her knitting away carefully, then she took the yarn Jes had thrown and