Peter Brett - The Desert Spear

It had been a long time since he had thought of Renna Tanner. Their fathers had promised them to each other, and if Arlen had not run away they would likely be married now, raising children and tending Jeph's farm. He wondered what had become of her.

Things only grew stranger as he went on. There was no reason for him to have taken any caution with his approach, because he didn't see a single soul on his way through the Brook; every home was locked up tight. He mentally checked the date, but it was too early for the summer solstice festival. They must have been summoned by the Great Horn.

The Great Horn was in Town Square and was blown when there was an attack, giving directions so that those closest could come and help search for survivors and rebuild if possible. Folk would lock up their livestock and leave for that, sometimes even overnight.

The Painted Man knew he had judged his people harshly when he left home. They were no different from the folk of Cutter's Hollow or any other of dozens of hamlets he had seen. Brook folk might not stand up to the core lings like Krasians, but they resisted in their own way, coming together time and again to reaffirm their bonds to one another. When they bickered, it was over petty things. No one in the Brook would allow a neighbor to go hungry or be left without succor, as happened so often in the cities.

The Painted Man sniffed the air and searched the sky, but there was no sign of smoke, the surest indicator of an attack. He strained his ears, but there was nothing to guide him, and after some casting about he headed on down the road to Town Square. There would be folk there who could tell him about the attack.

It was nearly dark as he approached Town Square, and the buzz of hundreds of voices came to his ears. He relaxed, realizing his fears were unfounded, and wondered what occasion could have drawn everyone in the Brook to spend a night in town. Had one of Hog's daughters finally married?

The streets were clear, but it seemed all the Brook had gathered. Every porch and doorway and window facing the square was packed full of people. Some, like the Watches, had even drawn their own circles, standing apart from the others and clutching their Canons, deep in prayer. It was a sharp contrast with the folk from Boggin's Hill, clutching only one another as they wept. He caught sight of Renna's sister Beni among them, holding tight to Lucik Boggin.

He followed their gaze to the square's center, where a beautiful young woman was bound to a stake in the ground.

And the sun was setting. It was only an instant before the Painted Man recognized Renna Tanner. Perhaps it was because she had been on his mind, or that he had just seen her sister, but Renna's round face, even after so long, was unmistakable, as was the long brown hair that fell nearly to her waist.

She hung limply, held up more by the ropes wrapped around her arms and chest than her own strength. Her eyes were open, but they stared blankly, focused on nothing.

"What in the Core is going on?" he roared, digging his heels into Twilight Dancer's flanks. The giant stallion leapt forward into the square, digging great divots in the grass as he pranced before the shocked crowd. The square was lit with a dim, flickering glow from torches and lanterns, but above the sky was a deep purple. The corelings would rise in seconds.

He leapt from the horse's back, rushing to the stake to undo Renna's bonds. An old man strode out to him, waving a large hunting knife with a stained blade. The Painted Man's sharp nostrils caught the scent of dried blood as he recognized Raddock Lawry, the Speaker from Fishing Hole.

"This ent your affair, Messenger!" Lawry said, pointing the knife at him. "That girl killed my kin, as well as her own da, and we aim to see her cored for it!"

The Painted Man glanced at Renna in shock, and like a slap in the face it all came back to him. The marriage games she and Beni had wanted to play with him in the hayloft, games they said they learned from watching Ilain with their father. Ilain's secret, pleading words to Jeph, begging him to take her away. The grunting from Harl's room deep in the night.

The memories flooded back, but this time he saw them as a grown man, and not a naive boy. Horror struck him, followed quickly by anger. He reached out faster than Raddock could react, catching the man's wrist in a sharusahk twist that flipped him to the ground even as the knife came free from his hands.

The Painted Man held the blade up for all to see. "If Renna Tanner killed her da," he shouted, "then I tell you, he had it comin'!"

He moved to cut Renna's bonds, but several Fishers, led by Garric, charged him with their thin spears. He stuck the bloody knife in the stake and turned to meet them.

To call it a fight would have been overly kind to the Fishers. They were strong men, but no warriors. The Painted Man was a trained fighter, and stronger than all of them together. It was only by his mercy that none of them were permanently injured when they hit the ground.

"Ent nobody getting cored while I'm around," he barked. "I'm taking her, and there ent a corespawned thing you can do about it!"

There was a thump, and he looked up, his eyes widening in disbelief. Jeorje Watch stood there, looking much as he had the last time the Painted Man had seen him, though that had been over sixteen years gone, and Jeorje in his nineties then.

"Nothing we can do, may be," he said, nodding and pointing with his stick, "but reckon we're not the ones you need to contend with, boy. The Plague take you both!"

The Painted Man followed the stick and saw he was right. Mist was rising throughout the square, and already some corelings were solidifying. The Fishers on the ground shrieked and scrambled back behind the wards.

Jeorje Watch had a grim smile on his face, one of righteous satisfaction, but the Painted Man didn't flinch. Instead he pulled off his hood and met the Southwatch Tender's eyes.

"I've contended with worse, old man," he growled, stripping off his robe, as well. The crowd gasped at the sight of his tattooed flesh.

As always, the first to come were the flame demons. One leapt at Renna, but the Painted Man caught its tail, hurling it across the square. Another pounced at him, but the wards on his skin flared to life and its claws could find no purchase. He caught the coreling's jaws before it could bite, so it spat fire in his eyes.

The wards on his face glowed briefly, absorbing the attack and turning it into nothing more than a cool breeze. All the while the wards on his palms glowed more and more fiercely until he crushed the demon's snout, hurling it aside.

A wood demon formed next, charging Twilight Dancer, but the stallion reared and trampled it, sparks flying from his warded hooves.

There was a shriek from above, and the Painted Man pivoted in time to grab the diving wind demon and turn its momentum against it, throwing it hard to the ground and crushing its throat with a stomp of his foot and a thunderclap of magic.

Two more wood demons came at him, and he kicked the first in the stomach, knocking it back with a blast of magic before grappling with the other. He caught one of its arms in a sharusahkhold and pulled with all his strength, tearing the demon's arm clear off. This he threw at Jeorje Watch, though the limb bounced off the wards of the Southwatch Tender's circle.

Three flame demons set upon the crippled wood demon, and soon the wounded coreling was shrieking as it was consumed in flame. The other wood demon recovered and made to come at the Painted Man, but he snarled at it, and the demon kept its distance.

"It's the Deliverer!" someone in the crowd cried. Many others echoed his words, some even falling to their knees, but the Painted Man only scowled.

"Ent here to deliver anyone that would put a girl out in the night!" he roared. He turned to Renna, pulling the knife free from the stake and slashing through her bonds. She collapsed into his arms, and their eyes met for just a moment. Focus returned to Renna's gaze, and she shook her head as if to clear it. He lifted her up onto Twilight Dancer's back.