Peter Brett - The Painted Man

She felt Gared's hand on her shoulder. 'Leesha, I'm sorry,' he said, and she buried her face in his chest, weeping. He held her tightly, muffling her sobs and rocking back and forth. A demon roared somewhere off in the distance, and Leesha wanted to scream along with it. She held her tongue in the vain hope that her father was sleeping, oblivious to Elona's grunting, but the likelihood seemed remote unless she had used one of Bruna's sleeping draughts on him.

'I'll take you away from this,' Gared said. 'We'll waste no time in making plans, and I'll have a house for us before the ceremony if I have to cut and carry all the logs myself.'

'Oh, Gared,' she said, kissing him. He returned the embrace, and lay her down again. The thumping from Steave's room and the sound of the demons without all faded away into the thrum of blood in her ears.

Gared's hands roamed her body freely, and Leesha let him touch places that only a husband should. She gasped and arched her back in pleasure, and Gared took the opportunity to position himself between her legs. She felt him slip free of his breeches, and knew what he was doing. She knew she should push him away, but there was a great emptiness inside her, and Gared seemed the only person in the world who might be able to fill it.

He was about to drive forward when Leesha heard her mother cry out in pleasure, and she stiffened. Was she any better than Elona, if she gave up her vows so easily? She swore to cross the wards of her marriage house a virgin. She swore to be nothing like Elona. But here she was, throwing all that away to rut with a boy mere feet from where her mother sinned.

'It's oath breakers I can't abide,' she heard Bruna say again, and Leesha pressed her hands hard against Gared's chest.

'Gared, no, please,' she whispered. Gared stiffened for a long moment. Finally, he rolled away from her and retied his breeches.

'I'm sorry,' Leesha said weakly.

'No, I'm sorry,' Gared said. He kissed her temple. 'I can wait.'

Leesha hugged him tightly, and Gared rose to leave. She wanted him to stay and sleep beside her, but they had stretched their luck thin as it was. If they were caught together, Elona would punish her severely, despite her own sin. Perhaps even because of it.

As the door to the shop clicked shut, Leesha lay back filled with warm thoughts of Gared. Whatever pain her mother might bring her, she could weather it so long as she had Gared.

Breakfast was an uncomfortable affair, the sounds of chewing and swallowing thunderous in the mute pall hanging over the table. It seemed there was nothing to say not better left unsaid. Leesha wordlessly cleared the table while Gared and Steave fetched their axes.

'Will you be in the shop today?' Gared asked, finally breaking the silence. Erny looked up for the first time that morning, interested in her reply.

'I promised Bruna I'd help tend the wounded again today,' Leesha said, but she looked apologetically at her father as she did. Erny nodded in understanding and smiled weakly.

'And how long is that to go on for?' Elona asked.

Leesha shrugged. 'Until they're better, I suppose,' she said.

'You're spending too much time with that old witch,' Elona said.

'At your request,' Leesha reminded.

Elona scowled. 'Don't get smart with me, girl.'

Anger flared in Leesha, but she flashed her most winning smile as she swung her cloak around her shoulders. 'Don't worry, mother,' she said, 'I won't drink too much of her tea.'

Steave snorted, and Elona's eyes bulged, but Leesha swept out the door before she could recover enough to reply.

Gared walked with her a ways, but soon they reached the place where the woodcutters met each morning, and Gared's friends were already waiting.

'Yur late, Gar,' Evin grumbled.

'Gotta woman t'cook for him, now,' Flinn said. 'That'll make any man linger.'

'If he even slept,' Ren snorted. 'My guess is he got her doing more'n cooking, an' right under her father's nose.'

'Ren got that right, Gar?' Flinn asked. 'Find a new place to keep yur axe last night?'

Leesha bristled and opened her mouth to retort, but Gared laid a hand on her shoulder. 'Pay them no mind,' he said. 'They're just try in' to make you spit.'

'You could defend my honour,' Leesha said. Creator knew, boys would fight for any other reason.

'Oh, I will,' Gared promised. 'I just don't want ya to see it. I'd rather ya keep thinking me gentle.'

'You are gentle,' Leesha said, standing on tip-toes to kiss his cheek. The boys hooted, and Leesha stuck her tongue out at them as she walked off.

'Idiot girl,' Bruna muttered, when Leesha told her what she had said to Elona. 'Only a fool shows their cards when the game's just getting started.'

'This isn't a game, it's my life!' Leesha said.

Bruna grabbed her face, squeezing her cheeks so hard her lips puckered apart. 'All the more reason to show a little sense,' she growled, glaring with her milky eyes.

Leesha felt anger flare hotly within her. Who was this woman, to speak to her so? Bruna seemed to hold the entire town in scorn, grabbing, hitting, and threatening anyone she pleased. Was she any better than Elona, really? Had she had Leesha's best interests at heart when she told her all those horrible things about her mother, or was she just manipulating her to become her apprentice, like Elona's pressure to marry Gared early and bear his children? In her heart, Leesha wanted both of those things, but she was tiring of being pushed.

'Well, well, look who's back,' came a voice from the door, 'the young prodigy.'

Leesha looked up to see Darsy standing in the doorway of the Holy House with an armful of firewood. The woman made no effort to hide her dislike for Leesha, and she could be just as intimidating as Bruna when she wished. Leesha had tried to assure her that she was not a threat, but her overtures only seemed to make things worse. Darsy was determined not to like her.

'Don't blame Leesha if she's learned more in two days than you did in your first year,' Bruna said, as Darsy slammed down the wood and lifted a heavy iron poker to stoke the fire.

Leesha was sure she would never get along with Darsy so long as Bruna kept picking at the wound, but she busied herself grinding herbs for poultices. Several of those burned in the attack had skin infections that needed regular attention. Others were worse still. Bruna had been shaken awake twice in the night to tend those, but so far, her herbs and skills had not failed her.

Bruna had assumed complete control of the Holy House, ordering Tender Michel and the rest around like Milnese servants. She kept Leesha close by, talking continuously in her phlegmy rasp, explaining the nature of the wounds, and the properties of the herbs she used to treat them. Leesha watched her cut and sew flesh, and found her stomach was strengthening to such things.

Morning faded into afternoon, and Leesha had to force Bruna to pause and eat. Others might not notice the strain in the old woman's breath or the shake of her hands, but Leesha did.

'That's it,' she said finally, snatching the mortar and pestle from the Herb Gatherer's hands. Bruna looked up at her sharply.

'Go and rest,' Leesha said.

'Who are you, girl, to…' Bruna began, reaching for her stick.

Leesha was wise to the move and faster, grabbing the stick and pointing it right at Bruna's hooked nose. 'You're going to have another attack if you don't rest,' she scolded. 'I'm taking you outside, and no arguing! Stefny and Darsy can handle things for an hour.'

'Barely,' Bruna grumbled, but she allowed Leesha to help her up and lead her outside.

The sun was high in the sky, and the grass by the Holy House was lush and green, save for a few patches blackened by flame demons. Leesha spread a blanket and eased Bruna down, bringing her special tea and soft bread that would not strain the crone's few remaining teeth.