Peter Brett - The Daylight War

‘So you just handed him the Hollow?’ Arlen asked.

‘Din’t have a lot of choice,’ Darsy said. ‘But it ent been so bad. Thamos mostly lets folk who know their business go to, and none can deny the aid he’s brought, or the hope he’s given to folk who ent got naught else.’

The fighting was over, but Renna could still see Arlen’s training as the Cutters went through the clearing methodically, confirming their kills. Demons healed magically fast, and even against warded weapons they could recover in minutes from anything short of death or dismemberment. More than one seeming-dead demon lying in the field shrieked when the Cutters approached, slashing at them or trying to escape. These were quickly pinned, thrashing wildly as the Cutters began cutting at the thick armoured ridges around their necks. Taking the head of even a small wood demon took a few strokes of the axe, and even Samm Saw had to put his back into the task.

Renna came to stand by Arlen and the women, eyeing their dizzying warded cloaks.

‘You warded their cloaks, too?’ she asked Arlen, dreading his answer.

Darsy turned suddenly, noticing Renna for the first time, particularly the state of her dress, or lack thereof. She glanced at Renna’s shoulders, and her nostrils flared. She grabbed the edge of Renna’s cloak and held it up so she could see it better in the light, then turned to Arlen with a look of indignation and put a meaty finger in his face.

‘You gave your Cloak of Unsight away?! Do you know how Mistress Leesha slaved over it? More than her own! You didn’t even thank her, and ent worn it once! Now you just piss it away-’

‘Ay, you stupid cow!’ Renna shouted, snatching the edge of her cloak back and moving to interpose herself between the two of them. ‘Don’t you talk to him like that!’

‘Or what?’ Darsy demanded, looming over Renna and bending so their noses practically touched. ‘This doesn’t concern you, girl, so shut your mouth or you’ll go over my knee.’

Darsy might have been a Herb Gatherer, but Renna knew a fighter when she saw one. She was more than a head taller than Renna and had a heavy frame, packed muscle and not fat. She wore the same floppy pantaloons as the other fighting women, and her heavy warded knife curved inward like a scythe. It would serve equally in hewing thick herb stalks or the limbs of a demon. Its handle was well worn.

But none of that seemed to matter as Renna grabbed her by the throat and began to squeeze. Darsy struggled, her mannishly thick hands pulling at Renna’s arm, but she might as well have been pulling at a bar of steel. She swung a heavy fist, but Renna diverted the blow easily, locking on to Darsy’s wrist and yanking her arm straight, using the limb to increase her leverage. Darsy went red in the face, the veins in her neck distending.

‘That’s enough, Ren!’ Arlen snapped, grabbing her arms. He squeezed hard, and both her grips lost strength. He pulled her aside as easily as a cat that had jumped on the counter to sniff the butchering block.

‘She started the fire,’ Renna growled, struggling against his iron grip much as Darsy had against hers. ‘You saw.’

‘Ay,’ Arlen agreed quietly. ‘She did. But that ent call to kill someone. Or were they right to try and stake you back in the Brook?’

Like he’d dumped a cold bucket on her head, Renna stopped struggling immediately. He was right, of course. Few would deny that Harl Tanner got what was coming to him when Renna stabbed him with his own knife, but this Darsy Cutter was no Harl.

Still, a part of her screamed for the woman’s blood. Renna breathed deeply, embracing the feeling and letting it pass. Arlen felt her relax and let her go immediately.

‘You all right?’ he asked Darsy, who was gasping and rubbing her throat.

‘Fine,’ Darsy croaked.

Arlen nodded, a sharp gesture. ‘Then keep to mind that what I do with my own property ent any of your corespawned business. Don’t think Leesha would care to hear you gossipmongering over her relations, either.’

‘Ay,’ Darsy coughed. ‘Think maybe you’re right at that.’ She turned to Renna. ‘My mum tried to beat some manners into me, but she never managed the task.’

Renna grunted. ‘Guess I wasn’t quite neighbourly, myself.’

The girl cleared her throat, and all eyes turned to her. She was perhaps seventeen summers and pretty, but up close Renna saw thick scars coming up over the neckline of her blouse. She had been near death once. Very near. And she could charm corelings with her music. Renna might have doubted Arlen’s stories about the red-haired Jongleur, but this she had seen with her own eyes.

Arlen smiled and bowed to the girl. ‘Your fiddling’s gotten better, Kendall. Looks like Rojer’s been working you and the other apprentices hard.’

Kendall looked at the ground, and there was a sadness in her eyes.

‘Rojer’s been gone for months,’ Darsy said, her voice still hoarse, but getting stronger. ‘Went to Rizon with Mistress Leesha. And the rest of his apprentices are more interested in playing reels than fighting demons.’ She gave Kendall a gentle punch on the shoulder. ‘But not our little fiddle witch. Worth a dozen men with spears, she is.’ Kendall kept her eyes down, but Renna could see her pale skin flush, and a thin smile crept onto her lips.

‘How long’s Leesha been gone?’ Arlen asked.

‘Left with the Krasians going on two months ago,’ Darsy said.

Arlen grunted. ‘It true, then? Jardir came to the Hollow and stole her away?’

‘After a fashion,’ Darsy said.

Arlen’s brow drew tight. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Darsy took a deep breath and looked at him. ‘He’s asked her to marry him.’

Arlen’s eyes bulged, and his jaw dropped. It was only a split second before the look dropped from his face, but it had been there, clear as day. Even the aura of magic surrounding him changed noticeably, its surface crackling and popping like green wood in a fire.

Renna had never seen anything take Arlen by surprise, and wasn’t sure how to read it. Past Leesha Paper might be, but she still had power over him.

Arlen leaned forward, his face utterly serene, but his eyes intense. ‘You telling me Leesha’s gone to marry Ahmann Jardir? That lyin’, rapin’, murderin’ son of the Core? That what you’re fixing to tell me, Darsy Cutter?’ His low voice grew louder as he spoke. Not loud, but louder. Again, Renna saw the ambient magic in the area rush to him, his wards beginning to glow. Darsy drew back from him as one might from a hissing rattlesnake.

‘She ent said yes!’ Darsy practically shouted. ‘And she ent playing the fool. Said it was an excuse to see what he’s done to the south. To count his troops and learn his ways. Didn’t go alone, either. Took Rojer, Gared, Wonda, and her parents to watch over her.’

‘Don’t matter,’ Arlen said. ‘The fact she went at all, and took her da, tells the Krasians Erny’s put her to market and is just waiting for the right price.’

Darsy scowled. ‘How dare you! Mistress Leesha ent some cow to buy and sell!’

‘To them she is!’ Arlen snapped. ‘Krasians don’t treat women as free folk. Don’t matter if they’re a duchess or a milkmaid, women are just property to those people, bought and sold. And no one outbids Ahmann Corespawned Jardir when he sets his mind on a prize, Darsy Cutter. No. One.’

Darsy deflated, the fight gone out of her, and she nodded. ‘Told her it was stupid to go, but she wouldn’t listen. Stubborn as a coreling.’ A pained look crossed her face, as if admitting fault in her precious mistress hurt her. Renna spat on the ground. Darsy flinched, but made no comment.

‘Don’t think she’s in danger just yet, anyway,’ she said. ‘I’ve gotten regular letters from her, and the codes all say she and the others are well. Say one thing for the Krasians, they make excellent Messengers.’