“Where are you going?” Sage questioned.
“Headed up to Old River Road.”
“What are you going to do?”
His gaze met hers. “It’s simple. Trade this bag for another.”
“Who hired you?”
“You don’t need to know. It’s easy coin.”
“If it’s so easy, why did he need to hire you? Why not do it himself?”
Raven scowled. Sage’s reasoning was sound, as always. Still, to question Father’s judgment was disrespectful.
Sage leaned forward. “You’ve trained us well, Father. We can help you. You don’t have to do this alone.”
“I said no.”
Sage’s jaw clenched in disapproval. She shook her head and stood, shoving the chair back. “You still treat us like children,” she complained harshly. “Even though any one of us could hold their own in a sword fight.”
Raven glanced around the room. They were drawing attention. Her stare locked with Willow’s worried one.
“You taught us that,” Sage said and stormed toward the door.
Raven rolled her eyes and began to stand, but Willow beat her to it.
“I’ll talk to her,” Willow stated.
Raven hated when Sage and her father argued. They were family. He was the more knowledgeable one, the one in charge. Sage shouldn’t question his orders. And yet, it was becoming more and more frequent.
John watched Willow trail Sage from the inn before turning to Raven. “I want you to take your sisters to Sybil’s farm.”
When they were young, they would often stay at Sybil’s farm. Sybil watched them so her father could use his skill to earn coin to support them. But as they grew, they watched over each other. “We can take care of ourselves.”
Her father regarded the door. “Sage is becoming increasingly defiant.”
“And you think Sybil can control her? She’s old now.”
He patted her hand. “Perhaps together, you can distract her.”
He meant lookout for Sage, keep her out of trouble. Find something to occupy that mind of hers. Raven sighed. “You’re heading out from here?”
He nodded. “It won’t take long. I should be back by the morrow’s sunset.”
Raven’s gaze dropped to the pouch in his hand. She spotted a red cross on the bag. Was that the insignia of the Templar Knights? Was her father working for them? Unease spiraled through her. “Father.”
His gaze softened and his hand closed around the pouch. “Don’t worry, Raven. I’ll meet you at the farm.”
Raven nodded, but she couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
