Peter Brett - The Desert Spear

"Looks like the ingrate's come down from hiding," Harl muttered as they slid into the pew behind Lucik, Beni, and the boys. Renna followed his gaze to see her eldest sister Ilain a few rows back. She stood with Jeph, Norine Cutter, and her children. They had all gotten so big!

"Don't even think about it," Harl muttered, grabbing her arm and squeezing hard as she moved to go and greet them. Harl had never forgiven Ilain for running off, though it was near fifteen years gone, and meant that he never knew his grandchildren by her.

"That sumbitch got a lot of nerve, coming here," Harl muttered, glaring at Jeph. "Another corespawned thief, thinking just because I give them succor, they can run off with one of my girls. Just as well you didn't end up married to that good-for-nothing son of his."

"Arlen wasn't good for nothing," Renna said sadly, remembering how he had kissed her when they were children. She 'd admired him from afar for years, and being promised to him had seemed a dream come true. She had always refused to believe he 'd been cored, but if he hadn't, why didn't he come back for her?

"What's that, girl?" Harl asked, distracted.

"Nothing," Renna said.

The ceremony went on, with Harral singing the praises of Fernan Boggin as he painted wards on the tarp wrapping the body to protect Fernan's spirit as it made its way to the Creator.

When it was done, they carried the body out to the pyre Harral had built, and laid him to rest as the fire burned. Renna drew wards in the air along with everyone else, praying that Fernan's soul would escape this demon-infested world as the flames consumed his body.

On the other side of the fire, Ilain stared sadly at her. She raised a hand to wave, and Renna started to cry.

People began to drift off as the fire burned down, some to Meada Boggin's house, where she had refreshments ready for her husband's mourners, and others beginning the trek back to their homes. Some had come from a ways off, and the corelings rose no later on funeral days.

"C'mon, girl, we'd best be getting back," Harl said, taking her arm.

"Harl Tanner!" Tender Harral called. "A moment of your time!"

Harl and Renna turned to see the Tender approaching with Cobie Fisher in tow. Cobie's eyes were firmly on his feet.

"Oh, what now?" Harl muttered.

"Cobie told me what happened last night," Tender Harral said.

"Oh, did he?" Harl said. "Did he tell you I caught him and my daughter in sinful embrace under my own wards?"

Harral nodded. "He did, and he has something to say now. Don't you, Cobie?"

Cobie nodded, coming forward while still studying his boots. "I'm sorry for what I done. Din't mean to shame no one, and I intend to make an honest woman of Renna, if you'll allow it."

"The Core I will!" Harl barked, and Cobie paled and took a step back.

"Now, Harl, wait just a minute," Tender Harral said.

"No, you wait, Tender!" Harl said. "This boy disrespected me, my daughter, and the sanctity of my wards, and you want me to take him as a son, just like that? I'd sooner let Renna marry a wood demon."

"Renna's past the age where she ought to be married and raising young'uns of her own," Harral said.

"That don't mean I got to hand her to some drunken wastrel just cuz he bent her over a hay bale," Harl said. He grabbed Renna and dragged her toward the cart. Renna looked longingly at Cobie as they rode off.

RENNA CAST A WISTFUL eye back up the road as the farm came into sight. "I know what yer thinkin', girl," Harl said. "Yer thinkin' of bein' like yer ingrate sister and runnin' off t'be with that boy."

Renna said nothing, but she felt her cheeks burn, and that was damning enough.

"Well, you think twice about it," Harl said. "I won't let you shame our family like Lainie did, runnin' off with a man whose wife just died the night before. Whole town still talks of it, and they all cast a dark eye on old Harl for raising such a corespawned whore.

"Yer on your way to getting the same reputation," Harl said. "Not this time, girlie. I'd rather scar the wards than go through that again. You even think about runnin', and you'll have yerself a trip to the outhouse, even if I have to go all the way to Southwatch to collect you."

Renna glanced at the tiny, ramshackle structure in the yard, and her blood went cold. Her father had never put her in there, but he had done it to Ilain a few times, and to Beni once. She remembered their screams vividly.

Renna reclaimed Beni and Lucik's small room, which she had once shared with her sister, moving in her few possessions and barring the door with a trembling hand.

As she lay back in the bed, she stroked Miss Scratch, her favorite cat, who was pregnant and soon to litter. As she did she thought of Cobie, of a house in Town Square and children of her own. The images warmed and comforted her, but she kept one eye on the door for a long time before drifting off to sleep.

For the next few days, Renna avoided her father whenever she could. It wasn't difficult. Spring planting might have been done, but even so, they were two splitting chores once shared by six. Just feeding the animals and cleaning their stalls was half a morning's work for Renna, and she still had to milk and shear and slaughter, ready meals thrice a day, mend clothing, make butter and cheese, tan skins, and an endless array of other tasks. She fell into the work almost gratefully for the protection it offered.

Each morning she bound her breasts, leaving her hair a tangle and her face smudged, and there was enough work to keep lewd thoughts from Harl's mind. Just checking the wardposts around the fields took hours. Each had to be examined carefully to make sure the wards were clear and sharp and aligned properly to overlap their neighbors without gap. A simple bird dropping or a warp in the wood could weaken a ward sufficiently for a demon to pass through if it found the gap.

After that, the fields still needed weeding, and the ripest produce had to be harvested for the day's meals, or for pickling and preserves. After all that, there was still always something around the farm that needed fixing, or sharpening.

The only time they really spent together was at meals, and they said little. Renna was careful not to bend close as she served and cleared. Harl never gave any sign he was looking at her differently, but he grew increasingly irritable as the days wore on.

"Creator, my back hurts," he said one night at supper as he bent to fill another mug from the keg of Boggin's Ale that Meada had sent back with them after the burning. Renna had lost count of how many he had filled that night.

Harl gasped in pain as he tried to straighten, and stumbled, sloshing his ale. Renna was there in an instant, steadying him and catching the mug before it spilled. Harl leaned heavily on her as she dragged him back to his chair.

Renna and Beni had often been called upon to knead the pain from Harl's bad back, and she did it now without thinking, working her father's tensed muscles with strong, skilled fingers.

"Atta girl," her father groaned, closing his eyes and pressing against her hands. "You were always the good one, Ren. Not like yer sisters, with no loyalty to kith and kin. Dunno how you turned out all right, with those two deserters as an example."

Renna finished her ministrations, but Harl grabbed her about the waist and pulled her close before she could pull out of reach. He looked up at her with tears in his eyes.

"You'll never leave me, girl, will you?" he asked.

"No, Da," Renna said. "Course not." She squeezed him briefly, and then pulled quickly back, taking his mug to the keg and refilling it. Renna awoke that night to a crash as something struck her door. She leapt from bed, pulling on her dress, but there was no other sound. She crept to the door and pressed her ear to the wood, hearing a low wheeze.