Peter Brett - The Desert Spear

"Creator," Jona intoned, holding up his teacup in both hands like an offering, "we thank you for the food and drink before us, a symbol of the life and fruitful bounty you have given. We pray for the strength to better serve you, and ask your blessings for ourselves, and all those who have no table to gather at this night."

"Not so fruitful a bounty this year," Elona muttered, picking up one of the hard biscuits, her nose crinkling with distaste. The woman gave a sudden start, and Jardir guessed from the way she glared at Leesha that her daughter had kicked her under the table.

"I am sorry we cannot offer you better fare," Leesha said when Jardir caught her eye, "but depredations of war have been hard on our village, with thousands of refugees having senselessly lost everything they own, and many loved ones, as well."

"Senselessly?" Ashan whispered in Krasian. "They insult you and your holy path, Deliverer!"

"No!" Abban hissed. "It is a challenge. Answer carefully." Ashan glared at him.

"Be silent, both of you!" Jardir hissed. He took his eyes from both Leesha and her mother, turning to nod to the Tender.

"Your prayer over bread is much the same as ours," he said. "In Krasia, we pray over even an empty bowl, for with Everam's will, it can strengthen in ways a full one cannot."

He looked back to Leesha. "I am told your village was small and little different from any other a year ago," he said. "And yet now you are large and powerful. I see no hungry on your streets. No beggars or wailers or cripples. Instead, you stand tall in the night, fighting demons by the hundred. Like steel, my coming has tempered your village and made it stronger."

"Wern't you that tempered it," Gared snapped. "Painted Man done that, back when you were still eating sand out in the desert."

Hasik tensed. Jardir doubted he understood fully what the greenlander had said, but the giant's tone was clear. He whisked his fingers at Hasik, calming him.

"I would know more of this Painted Man," Jardir said. "I have heard much of him in Everam's Bounty, but nothing from one who had actually seen the man."

"He's the Deliverer, that's all ya need t'know," Gared growled. "Gave us back the magic we lost all them years ago."

"Combat wards to fight the alagai," Jardir said. Gared nodded.

"May I see a weapon he has warded?" Jardir asked.

Gared hesitated, his eyes flicking over to Leesha. Jardir's naturally followed, and again her blue eyes, like cool water, threatened to drown him in their hidden depths. She smiled, and a thrill went through him.

"We will show you," Leesha said, smiling coyly, "if you will show us something of yours. Your spear, perhaps."

Even Abban gasped at her audacity, but Jardir only smiled. He reached for his spear, but Ashan grabbed his hand.

"Deliverer, no!" Ashan hissed. "The Spear of Kaji is unfit for the hands of chin."

"It is no longer the Spear of Kaji, Ashan," Jardir said in Krasian. "It is the Spear of Ahmann, and I will do with it as I please. It will not be the first time it has been touched by chin hands, and its blessings remain."

"What if they try to steal it?" Hasik asked.

Jardir looked at him, his eyes calm. "If they try, we will kill every man, woman, and child in this village and raze it to the ground."

The matter closed, he lifted the spear horizontally before him. In response, Gared reached to his belt, pulling free a long blade. Hasik and Shanjat tensed, ready to strike, but the giant flipped the weapon over, holding the blade to offer Jardir the hilt. As one, they switched.

There was no pretense of decorum, then, as those skilled in warding on both sides rushed to examine the weapons.

Jardir turned the long blade over to catch the light as it ran in glittering rivers along the intricate wards etched in its surface. He saw immediately that most of the wards were the same his people used to ward their own weapons, symbols taken from the Spear of Kaji, which held almost every combat ward in existence.

But the warding went beyond cold functionality, like the harshly etched spears of the dal'Sharum. There was an artistry to it that rivaled anything Jardir had ever seen outside the Spear itself, hundreds of wards flowing in harmony to weave a net of incredible power that was both beautiful to look upon and terrible for an alagai to behold.

"Exquisite," Jardir murmured.

"Priceless," Abban said.

"Could this Painted Man have stolen the symbols from Anoch Sun?" Ashan wondered.

"Ridiculous," Jardir said. "No one has been there in a thousand years, except…"

He looked at his men, and all eyes had lit with the same thought.

"No," Jardir said at last. "No, he is dead."

"Of course, it must be so," Ashan echoed after a slight pause, and the others all nodded.

They looked up to see Leesha and her father, now wearing spectacles, examining the Spear of Kaji a little too closely. They had held it long enough to appreciate the grandeur, but he saw no reason to give away all its secrets yet.

"These wards are strong," he said, holding the blade back out to Gared, handle-first. He looked pointedly at the spear, and the greenlanders grudgingly returned it. The look of longing in Leesha's eyes as the spear was returned was gratifying. She was hungry for its secrets.

"Where is this Painted Man?" Jardir asked Gared when the spear was again tucked safely over his shoulder. "I would very much like to meet him."

"He comes and goes," Leesha cut in before the giant could answer.

Jardir nodded at her. "Was it he that gave you your wondrous cloak? Truly, it is like the Robe of Kaji, himself, to let you walk past alagai unseen."

Leesha's cheeks colored, and Jardir realized he had just complimented her in some way.

"The Cloaks of Unsight are my own creation," she said. "I altered wards of confusion and sight, along with a mild forbiddance, so that no coreling big or small can see one wearing it."

"Incredible," Jardir said. "Everam must speak in your ear, if you are altering wards, especially to make something of such divine beauty and power."

Leesha looked down at her cloak, fingering it absently. Finally, she clucked and got to her feet, unfastening the silver ward clasp at her throat. "Take it," she said, holding the cloak out to Jardir.

"Are you crazed?!" Elona shouted, moving to block her way, much as Ashan had done to him before.

"The cloak's only good against demons," she said, as much to her mother as Jardir. "Take it to remind you who the real enemy is, when the sun rises tomorrow." She pulled her arm away from her mother and held the cloak out to Jardir.

Jardir put his hands flat on the tabletop and bowed. "That is too great a gift, and I have nothing to give in return. By Everam, I cannot accept."

"The reminder is all I want in return," Leesha said. Jardir bowed again, taking the wondrous cloak with widening eyes. If the wards on this so-called Painted Man's weapon were a harmony, Leesha's Cloak of Unsight was a symphony. He folded the cloak carefully and tucked it in his robe before he or any of his councilors began to study the gift to distraction.

"Thank you, Mistress Leesha, daughter of Erny, Herb Gatherer of Deliverer's Hollow," he said, bowing again. "You honor me greatly with your gift."

Leesha smiled and returned to her seat. For a moment, the greenlanders made a great pretense of sipping their tea, murmuring to one another as they did. Jardir allowed them this conference time, looking to Abban.

"Tell me of the red-haired boy who dresses like a khaffit," he commanded.

Abban bowed. "He is what the greenlanders call a Jongler, Deliverer. They are traveling storytellers and music makers who dress in bright colors to announce their craft. It is considered an honored profession, and its practitioners are often highly regarded figures of inspiration."