Peter Brett - The Daylight War

‘I said young , Mother,’ Leesha said. ‘I don’t think you’re his type.’

‘Ay, don’t talk to your mother that way!’ Erny said. Leesha looked at him and wanted to scream. Even now, he defended her. It would likely be the same even if he knew about Gared. Night, he probably did. Erny wasn’t half the fool people thought he was when it came to his wife, but Elona had been right about his courage.

Leesha pretended her father had not spoken. ‘I am going in for an audience with His Highness now. I’ll have some of the Cutters escort you back home. When you’re there and no one is looking, take the Krasian spears and hide them in the paper shop. Somewhere no one will find them.’

Erny seemed nonplussed at both Leesha’s and Elona’s lack of response, and nodded after a moment. ‘Ay, I know just the place. I’ve a slurry vat with a false bottom.’

‘Oh, really ?’ Leesha asked. ‘And what, might I ask, did you need that for?’

Erny smiled. ‘To keep inquisitive young girls poking around my papermaking chemicals from getting themselves hurt.’

‘I’ve been mixing worse for fifteen years,’ Leesha said.

‘Ay,’ Erny agreed. ‘But I haven’t had reason to bring up since.’ He raised a finger. ‘And you’ll know my secrets when I decide it, young lady, and not before. You mind your tone if you ever want to know where the gold’s hid.’

‘He ent bluffing,’ Elona muttered. ‘Been with him near thirty years, and still ent got a clue.’

Captain Gamon rode back to where they stood. ‘The count is waiting,’ he said impatiently. ‘What is the delay?’ With the count’s seat of power — and crank bowmen — at his back, he seemed to regain something of the haughtiness he had first shown on the road.

‘I am sending my parents home while I meet with His Highness,’ Leesha said. ‘And the rest of the caravan could use a bit of ease.’

‘They can have that inside the count’s keep,’ Gamon said. ‘Accommodations have been made. They will be safer inside.’

‘Safer from whom?’ Leesha asked.

‘Many of His Highness’s new subjects come from the south, and remember what these people did to their homes,’ Gamon reminded her.

‘I am aware of that,’ Leesha said, ‘but these are guests and not prisoners.’

She turned to Gared and the Cutters, who had come to stand beside her. ‘I think the Cutters can keep peace with a group of unarmed Krasians, don’t you?’

‘Don’t you worry none, girlie,’ Yon Gray said, slapping his axe handle against his palm. ‘Anyone woodbrained enough to start trouble’ll soon regret it.’ It was eerie, hearing the old man’s voice come from a man now in his prime. She had been documenting Yon’s slow shedding of years for some time, but the sudden change after months apart was still a little jarring. Most of the grey had fled his hair, and he looked a man of forty rather than one in his seventies.

‘Ay,’ Dug said. ‘We’ll see to it.’

Gamon shook his head. ‘The royal summons mentions you and your wife by name, Mr Butcher, along with Captain Cutter, Master Inn, and Miss Cutter.’ He indicated Wonda.

‘Me?’ Wonda asked. ‘What’s the count want to see me for?’

‘I’m sure I don’t know.’ Gamon’s tone was derisive. Angierians gave their women more rights than Krasians, but not by much. They didn’t approve of women involving themselves in politics or military matters. Leesha opened her mouth to fire off an acid response, but Gared beat her to it.

‘Mind yur manners,’ Gared growled. ‘She’s got more coreling corpses to her name than yur whole runty company combined.’

Gamon’s eyebrow became a hard V. Here beside the keep the Wooden Soldiers were more numerous, but more and more Cutters arrived by the moment. He pursed his lips, saying nothing.

Gared grunted and turned to Yon. ‘Keep watch on the caravan while we’re inside. No one bothers ’em, but no one leaves, either. Extra eyes on the ones in black.’

Yon nodded. ‘Ay, boy. Don’t fret on it.’

Rojer appeared a moment later. In the Krasian fashion, Amanvah followed a step behind him; Kaval, Coliv, and Enkido a step behind her; Shamavah a step behind them.

‘Where is Sikvah?’ Leesha asked. ‘Is she well?’

Amanvah shook her head with a tsk. ‘You play at understanding our ways, Mistress Paper, but your knowledge is obviously lacking if you think a man should bring his Jiwah Sen to court.’

Amanvah’s tone was haughty as ever, but Leesha could sense the anger beneath. She bowed. ‘I meant no insult.’ Amanvah did not reply.

‘His Highness has not summoned you,’ Captain Gamon told her. ‘You and your savages can wait in the courtyard.’

Amanvah’s gaze snapped to him, her dama’ting serenity broken at the rudeness. Kaval and Enkido tensed, but she flicked a hand to calm them. ‘My father is Ahmann asu Hoshkamin am’Jardir am’Kaji. Shar’Dama Ka and Deliverer, who will unite mankind. He will take it a grave insult if I am left rotting on the pillows by some minor princeling.’

‘I don’t care if your father is the Creator Himself,’ Gamon snapped. ‘You’ll wait until you’re called for.’

Amanvah’s delicate eyebrows seemed to thread together, but she did not argue further.

Leesha felt the situation deteriorating and turned to Evin, absently stroking the back of his wolfhound, its massive shoulders almost as high as his. She had disliked Evin when they were young — he had been cruel and selfish and never one to be counted — but like so many folk, the coming of the Painted Man had changed him. ‘Evin, will you see my parents home, please?’

Evin nodded, springing into the driver’s seat of their carriage himself. Shadow followed alongside the carriage, and the horses stamped and pulled at their harnesses, whinnying in fear.

Evin gave a shrill whistle. ‘Ay, Shadow! Go and find Callen!’ The wolfhound gave a bark that sounded like a thunderclap and ran off. Evin pulled hard at the reins, getting the horses under control, then gave them a crack and the carriage rode off. The rest of the caravan was left at loose ends under the watchful eyes of the Cutters and Wooden Soldiers as she and the others passed through the gates.

The count’s keep was still under construction, but the foundations were laid and portions of his manse were already raised and functional. A group of Wooden Soldiers gathered at the main entrance, spears and shields at the ready.

Leesha moved over to Gared, dropping her voice. ‘Gared, if the count tries to give you a title and a uniform, don’t accept right away.’

‘Why not?’ Gared said, not bothering to keep her hushed tones.

‘Because you’d be giving away our army, you idiot,’ Rojer said, coming up on his other side. His voice, too, was too low for the others to hear.

Gared turned an angry glare the Jongleur’s way. ‘Just a big joke to you, too, ent I? Painted Man told me to keep you safe while he was gone, Rojer. I swore by the sun and promised I would. Stood in the way of charging demons and Krasians and Creator knows what else to keep it.’

He loomed forward suddenly, and the smaller man, his bearing so proud a moment before, shrank back from the sheer menace of his presence. ‘But he never told me I had to eat yur shit, and you been takin’ a lot of liberty. Way I see it, him back in town means my promise is kept and done. Watch yur own back from now on, you crippled little runt. And next time you call me idiot? Gonna put your teeth out.’ He licked two fingers and held them up high enough to catch the sun topping the count’s walls. ‘Swear by the sun.’

‘Gared,’ Leesha said carefully, as Rojer stood shocked. ‘You have every right to be angry about how we’ve taken you for granted, and for my part, I’m sorry. I blame you for everything wrong in my life sometimes, but truer is, you didn’t do anything a million other boys haven’t done. I forgive you. You’ve made up for it many times over.’