Peter Brett - The Warded Man

Bruna looked at her a long time, then nodded.

“Pack your things and say your good-byes,” she said. “You’ll bring that advice to Jizell personally.”

Every afternoon without fail, Erny came up the path to Bruna’s hut. The Hollow had six Warders, each with an apprentice, but Erny did not trust his daughter’s safety to anyone else. The little papermaker was the best Warder in Cutter’s Hollow, and everyone knew it.

Often, he brought gifts his Messengers had secured from far-off places: books and herbs and hand-sewn lace. But gifts were not why Leesha looked forward to his visits. She slept better behind her father’s strong wards, and seeing him happy these last seven years was greater than any gift. Elona still caused him grief, of course, but not on the scale she once had.

But today, as Leesha watched the sun cross the sky, she found herself dreading her father’s visit. This was going to hurt him deeply.

And her, as well. Erny was a well of support and love that she drew upon whenever things grew too hard for her. What would she do in Angiers without him? Without Bruna? Would any there see past her pocketed apron?

But whatever her fears about loneliness in Angiers, they paled against her greatest fear: that once she tasted the wider world, she would never want to return to Cutter’s Hollow.

It wasn’t until she saw her father coming up the path that Leesha realized she’d been crying. She dried her eyes and put on her best smile for him, smoothing her skirts nervously.

“Leesha!” her father called, holding out his arms. She fell into them gratefully, knowing that this might be the last time they played out this little ritual.

“Is everything all right?” Erny asked. “I heard there was some trouble at the market.”

There were few secrets in a place as small as Cutter’s Hollow. “It’s fine,” she said. “I took care of it.”

“You take care of everyone in Cutter’s Hollow, Leesha,” Erny said, squeezing her tightly. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

Leesha began to weep. “Now, now, none of that,” Erny said, catching a tear off her cheek on his index finger and flicking it away. “Dry your eyes and head on inside. I’ll check the wards, and we can talk about what’s bothering you over a bowl of your delicious stew.”

Leesha smiled. “Mum still burning the food?” she asked.

“When it’s not still moving,” Erny agreed. Leesha laughed, letting her father check the wards while she laid the table.

“I’m going to Angiers,” Leesha said when the bowls were cleared, “to study under one of Bruna’s old apprentices.”

Erny was quiet a long time. “I see,” he said at last. “When?”

“As soon as Marick leaves,” Leesha said. “Tomorrow.”

Erny shook his head. “No daughter of mine is spending a week on the open road alone with a Messenger,” he said. “I’ll hire a caravan. It will be safer.”

“I’ll be careful of the demons, Da,” Leesha said.

“It’s not just corelings I’m worried about,” Erny said pointedly.

“I can handle Messenger Marick,” Leesha assured him.

“Keeping a man off you in the dark of night isn’t the same as stopping a brawl in the market,” Erny said. “You can’t leave a Messenger blind if you ever hope to make it off the road alive. Just a few weeks, I beg.”

Leesha shook her head. “There’s a child I’m needed to treat immediately.”

“Then I’ll go with you,” Erny said.

“You’ll do no such thing, Ernal,” Bruna cut in. “Leesha needs to do this on her own.”

Erny looked at the old woman, and they locked stares and wills. But there was no will in Cutter’s Hollow stronger than Bruna’s, and Erny soon looked away.

Leesha walked her father out soon after. He did not want to go, nor did she want him to leave, but the sky was filled with color, and already he would have to trot to make it home safely.

“How long will you be gone?” Erny asked, gripping the porch rail tightly and looking off in the direction of Angiers.

Leesha shrugged. “That will depend on how much Mistress Jizell has to teach, and how much the apprentice she’s sending here, Vika, has to learn. A couple of years, at least.”

“I suppose if Bruna can do without you that long, I can, too,” Erny said.

“Promise me you’ll check her wards while I’m gone,” Leesha said, touching his arm.

“Of course,” Erny said, turning to embrace her.

“I love you, Da,” she said.

“And I, you, poppet,” Erny said, crushing her in his arms. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he promised before heading down the darkening road.

“Your father makes a fair point,” Bruna said, when Leesha came back inside.

“Oh?” Leesha asked.

“Messengers are men like any other,” Bruna warned.

“Of that, I have no doubt,” Leesha said, remembering the fight in the marketplace.

“Young master Marick may be all charm and smiles now,” Bruna said, “but once you’re on the road, he’ll have his way, no matter what your wishes, and when you reach the forest fortress, Herb Gatherer or no, few will take the word of a young girl over that of a Messenger.”

Leesha shook her head. “He’ll have what I give him,” she said, “and nothing more.”

Bruna’s eyes narrowed, but she grunted, satisfied that Leesha was wise to the danger.

There was a sharp rap at the door just after first light. Leesha answered, finding her mother standing there, though Elona had not come to the hut since being expelled at the end of Bruna’s broom. Her face was a thunderhead as she pushed right past Leesha.

On the sunny side of forty, Elona might still have been the most beautiful woman in the village if not for her daughter. But being autumn to Leesha’s summer had not humbled her. She might bow to Erny with gritted teeth, but she carried herself like a duchess to all others.

“Not enough you steal my daughter, you have to send her away?” she demanded.

“Good morn to you as well, Mother,” Leesha said, closing the door.

“You stay out of this!” Elona snapped. “The witch has twisted your mind!”

Bruna cackled into her porridge. Leesha interposed herself between the two, just as Bruna was pushing her half-finished bowl away and wiping her sleeve across her mouth to retort. “Finish your breakfast,” Leesha ordered, pushing the bowl back in front of her, and turning back to Elona. “I’m going because I want to, Mother. And when I return, I’ll bring healing the likes of which Cutter’s Hollow has not seen since Bruna was young.”

“And how long will it take this time?” Elona demanded. “You’ve already wasted your best breeding years with your nose buried in dusty old books.”

“My best …!” Leesha stuttered. “Mother, I’m barely twenty!”

“Exactly!” Elona shouted. “You should have three children by now, like your friend the scarecrow. Instead, I watch as you pull babes from every womb in the village but your own.”

“At least she was wise enough not to shrivel hers with pomm tea,” Bruna muttered.

Leesha whirled on her. “I told you to finish your porridge!” she said, and Bruna’s eyes widened. She looked ready to retort, then grunted and turned her attention back to her bowl.

“I’m not a brood mare, Mother,” Leesha said. “There’s more in life for me than that.”

“What more?” Elona pressed. “What could be more important?”

“I don’t know,” Leesha said honestly. “But I’ll know when I find it.”

“And in the meantime, you leave the care of Cutter’s Hollow to a girl you’ve never met and ham-hand Darsy, who nearly killed Ande, and half a dozen since.”