‘And either way, every able-bodied man’ll be drafted to fight that which ent meant to be fought.’ Gery spat on the taproom floor.
‘Ay!’ the innkeeper shouted.
‘Sorry, Sim,’ Gery said. ‘All due respect, Mistress Paper, but we’re simple folk in Northfork, and not lookin’ to be demon killers like you Hollowers.’
‘Might be easier to just kidnap this Krasian princess,’ Sim said. ‘Ransom the town for her. Those black-robed bastards are tough, but we got ’em outnumbered.’
‘You don’t want to do that,’ Rojer said.
‘He’s right,’ Leesha said. ‘You lay a hand on her, and the Krasians will kill every man, woman, and child in Northfork and burn it to the ground. It is death to lay hands on a dama’ting.’
‘They gotta catch us first,’ Sim said.
The knife was in Rojer’s hand in a blink, and he had Sim by the collar, pinning him to the table, the blade drawing a thin line of blood on his throat.
‘Rojer!’ Leesha shouted, but he ignored her.
‘Forget the Krasians,’ Rojer growled. ‘You don’t want to do that because she’s my ripping wife.’
Sim swallowed hard. ‘Just ale talk, Master Halfgrip. Din’t mean it for real.’
Rojer snarled, but he released the man, his knife vanishing.
Gery gave Sim a hand up. ‘Go wipe the bar down and keep your fool mouth shut.’ Sim nodded quickly and scurried off. Gery turned back to Rojer. ‘Apologies for that, Master Halfgrip. Got a couple woodbrains in every village.’
‘Ay.’ Rojer was still caught in the rush of adrenaline, seething, but his Jongleur’s mask was back in place, and he returned to his seat.
‘No one’s pushing you to go one place over another,’ Leesha told the Speaker. ‘But staying here puts you right in the path of a storm you’re not prepared for. You saw what one angry Sharum was capable of. Imagine ten thousand of them bearing down on you, along with forty thousand Rizonan slaves.’
Gery paled, but he nodded. ‘I’ll think on it. Rest easy tonight. Ent no one going to be fool enough to cause trouble between now and you leaving for the morning.’ With that, he pushed up from his seat and gave Nicholl a hand as they left the inn.
‘That one’s got nightmares waiting in his bed tonight,’ Elona said.
‘Why should he be different from the rest of us?’ Leesha asked.
Just then a young Sharum in full armour entered the inn with Kaval, carrying spear and shield. The two men headed up to Amanvah’s chambers. The young warrior came back down at a run a few minutes later, shooting out the door like an arrow.
‘You didn’t really poison the Sharum, did you?’ Rojer asked.
Leesha looked at him a moment, then took a deep breath and stood, heading down the hall beside the bar towards her room, Wonda at her heel.
Rojer sighed, taking the full mug of ale before him and throwing it back in three gulps, the cool liquid leaking from the corners of his mouth and down his chin. ‘Best I go face the music.’
Erny looked over at him, using the reproachful look he sometimes used to check his daughter. ‘You’re a fine fiddler, Rojer, but you have a lot to learn about being a husband.’
Gared walked Rojer up to his room, expecting to see Enkido guarding the door, but the eunuch was not in sight, which meant he was inside. Not comforting.
‘Want I should go in with ya?’ Gared asked.
Rojer shook his head. ‘No, that’s all right. You just stand by in case some other fool takes Sim’s suggestion and tries to kidnap Amanvah. I have this.’
Gared nodded. ‘I’ll be out here in the hall. But I hear a commotion, I’ll be through that door in a second.’
An image flashed in Rojer’s mind, the splintering of wood as the rock demon had smashed through the door of his father’s inn, fifteen years past. Rojer had no doubt Gared could break through the heavy wood with similar ease.
He left unvoiced what they both knew. Kaval had taken Gared down like he was a child, and Enkido had done the same to Kaval. Infuriating as the burly Cutter was at times, Rojer had no desire to see him killed in a fight he had no hope of winning. If he couldn’t get out of this without fighting, he wasn’t getting out.
Rojer pretended to adjust his tunic, needing to touch his medallion. Immediately he felt calmer. ‘We all need something for the pains of life,’ Arrick said when Rojer asked why he drank so much wine, ‘and I’m too old for Jongleur’s tales.’ He reached for the door handle.
Inside, Rojer immediately noticed Enkido standing off to one side of the door, arms crossed. As always, the eunuch seemed to take no notice of Rojer.
Amanvah and Sikvah had changed into their coloured silks, which Rojer took as a good sign, but they glowered at him as he entered.
‘You and Leesha are working against us,’ Amanvah said.
‘How?’ Rojer asked. ‘Your father knows we do not bow to him. He offered us a pact, and we are considering it. I made no oath to serve his every interest.’
‘There is a difference between not supporting his interests and opposing them, husband,’ Amanvah said. ‘My father does not know you are telling tales of false Deliverers, or that Mistress Leesha has poisoned his warriors.’
‘Your father knows all about the Painted Man and his connection to the Hollow. We told him as much when he first visited.’ Rojer lowered his eyebrows. ‘And you’re in no position to lecture anyone about poison.’
Amanvah did not let her mask slip, but the pause before her retort was enough to let him know he had struck a nerve.
‘But you tell your people to flee us,’ Amanvah said, ‘though we have no plans to march. You tell them to pack and go to the great oasis city, or come to your Hollow to strengthen your own tribe to stand against us.’
Rojer felt his temper flare again. ‘And how do you know that? Are you spying on me?’
‘The alagai hora tell me much, son of Jessum,’ Amanvah said.
‘Creator, I am so sick of your cryptic answers and your ripping dice!’ Rojer snapped. ‘You put more stock in the bones of demons than you do in people’s lives.’
Amanvah paused again, holding her calm. ‘Perhaps we can’t stop your blasphemy when you return to the Hollow, husband, but there will be no more village stops on the road. And even when we reach the Hollow, Sikvah and I will never sing your infidel song, or suffer it in our presence.’
Rojer shrugged. ‘Never asked you to. But I was in the Battle of Cutter’s Hollow, wife. I lived it and know it for true. I’m not going to pretend those things never happened just because it hurts your father’s case. If he’s really the Deliverer, it doesn’t matter. And if he’s not …’
‘He is,’ Amanvah hissed.
Rojer shrugged and smiled. ‘Then you’ve got nothing to fret over, do you?’
‘My father is the chosen of Everam,’ Amanvah said, ‘but Nie is strong. He can still fail, if his people are not true.’
Again Rojer shrugged. ‘These are not his people, at least not yet. If he wishes them to be, he must earn it. I will fight against the demons when Sharak Ka comes. Who I fight for is yet to be determined.’
Amanvah snorted. ‘You are many things, son of Jessum, but a fighter is not one of them.’
It was an unexpected slap in the face, and Rojer felt his Jongleur’s mask slip. His face showed his true anger as he got to his feet, such that even Amanvah flinched.
‘As your husband, I order you to come with me,’ he said, taking his bow and fiddle and turning to leave the room.
Enkido stepped smoothly to block his way.
Rojer walked right up to him, tilting his head back to look into the eunuch’s dead eyes. ‘Wife, remove your gelding from my path.’
Rojer caught the flash of understanding, though it was gone in an instant. ‘Don’t speak our tongue, my red shorthairs. You big ball-less bastard. You’re getting every word. So either kill me or move aside.’
For the first time, the eunuch began to show emotion – a simmering
anger that rivalled the look Kaval had shown when he came for Rojer. But Rojer was past caring, matching the stare with one of his own.
‘Enkido, step aside,’ Amanvah said. The eunuch looked surprised, but he did as commanded immediately. Rojer opened the door and stormed into the hall, making Gared jump.
Amanvah and Sikvah followed after as he strode towards the steps. ‘Just where do you think you are going?’ Amanvah demanded, but he did not bother to reply.
The taproom was mostly empty as they descended the steps, just a small cluster of townies left at the bar. They looked at Rojer in surprise, their eyes widening as they saw the Krasian women in their coloured silks.
‘Husband!’ Sikvah cried. ‘We are not dressed!’
Rojer ignored her, crossing the room and unbarring the front door.
‘Ay, what in the Core are you doing?’ Sim cried, but Rojer ignored him as well, stepping outside.
As in most Thesan towns, the inn was right at the edge of the cobbled town square. There were interconnected warded porchways between many of the buildings on the perimeter to allow folk to gather at the inn after dark, but the main square was too large to ward effectively. The cobbles prevented demons from rising there, but wind demons knew to watch the spot, and would swoop on anything they saw moving. Other demons would occasionally wander into the area from the road.
Outside on the inn porch stood Kaval and two other Sharum, all fully armed and armoured.
‘Out of my way.’ Rojer pushed past them as if their obedience was expected and his due, and the Sharum backed away as he stepped out into the square. Rojer spotted two small wood demons prowling the far end, testing the wards of the buildings, searching for an opening. They froze in place at the commotion, looking like nothing more than a pair of twisted trees.
Rojer heard the warriors gasp as his wives followed him onto the porch, and smiled as they all turned to avert their eyes. His wives were blood of the Deliverer and married. Looking lustfully upon them was asking to have one’s eyes put out.
Without his warded cloak, the woodies caught sight of him as he moved beyond the protection of the wards and began to stalk slowly his way. Rojer ignored them, not even bothering to raise his fiddle. Above, a wind demon’s cry split the night.
Amanvah and Sikvah stopped at the porch rail. ‘Enough of this foolishness!’ Amanvah snapped. ‘Come back inside!’
Rojer shook his head. ‘You don’t give me orders, jiwah. Come to me.’
‘The Evejah forbids women to enter the naked night,’ Amanvah said.
‘And to let other men see us unveiled and in colour! The Damajah has women stoned for this,’ Sikvah cried. He glanced back and saw her hunched over, trying to cover herself.
The demons were closer now, tamping their legs, muscles bunched as they prepared to spring. Unafraid, Rojer finally turned to them and lifted the bow in his crippled hand.
Demons were creatures of primal emotion. Manipulating those emotions was the key to controlling them. Right now, their entire attention was fixed on him. Rojer took hold of that feeling and enhanced it, projecting concentration in his music.
Here I am! he told them. Focus on this spot!
Then he stopped playing and took two quick steps to the side. The demons shook their heads, confused at the way he had vanished, and Rojer began to play once more, enhancing that feeling as well.
Where did he go? I don’t see him anywhere! he told the demons. They began to frantically scan the area, but even as their gaze swept over him, their frustration at being unable to find him remained. Rojer stepped carefully around them, keeping a casual air to his Jongleur’s mask.
‘I could say the Evejah also commands you to obey your husband,’ he told his wives, ‘but the Evejah hasn’t been where we’re going. Female Jongleurs wear bright colours, and you are in the green lands now. Inevera would have to stone every woman outside Everam’s Bounty.’
A crowd was forming at the porch rail. Gared was there, weapons in hand, as was Leesha and Wonda with her warded bow, a cluster of townies, and the three Sharum. The women hesitated, but then Amanvah huffed, drawing herself to her full height, and strode out to join him, Sikvah at her heels.
‘Dama’ting, no!’ Kaval cried.
‘Silence!’ Amanvah snapped. ‘It is your rash action that has brought us to this point!’
Gared and the warriors moved to follow them onto the square, including Enkido, who now held a spear and shield.
‘Stay behind the rails, Gar,’ Rojer called. ‘That goes for the rest of you, as well. We need no spears tonight.’ The Sharum ignored him until Amanvah whisked a hand at them. They retreated, but looked ready to ignore her command and leap into the night if the demons got too close.
The woodies did fix on the women, but they had tested the wards around the square and knew they were out of reach. Rojer took that feeling, and held it. He tilted his head, taking his chin off the wards in the demons’ direction to aim the music their way.
They are warded, he told the demons, even as his wives crossed into the open, unprotected area. You cannot touch them. There will be light and pain if you try. Seek other prey.
The demons did as instructed, and as Amanvah and Sikvah came to him, Rojer led his melody into the opening notes of the Song of Waning. Immediately they began to sing, accompanying Rojer’s lead in harmony, an echo and a highlight that increased the effect of his playing manifold. With that power, he wove a spell of music around the three of them that made them invisible to the corelings. The demons could smell them in the air, hear them, even catch fleeting glimpses, but the source of their senses was gone, their eyes slipping away from them again and again.
Safe from assault, Rojer added another layer to the tune, and Amanvah and Sikvah picked it up immediately, sending a call out into the night. Slowly, Rojer lifted his chin, revealing more of Amanvah’s wards. His wives put hands to their throats, manipulating their chokers in some way, and matched him as his volume increased.
The sound carried far, drawing first the locals around the square to their windows and porches. Lanterns appeared, shedding dim light over the cobbles. The folk looked on in stunned silence as the song did its work, drawing every demon in the area.
They came slowly at first, but soon there were more than a dozen corelings in the square. Five wood demons stalked, snuffling the air, seeking victims that could not be found. Two flame demons shrieked and cavorted, trailing orange fire as they raced from one end of the square to the other, unable to pinpoint the source of the music, but unable to resist its call. Above, three wind demons circled in the sky, their raptor calls echoing in the night. Two field demons prowled low to the ground, bellies scraping the cobbles as they tried to stay invisible for the hunt. There was even a stone demon – a smaller cousin of the rock, but still bigger than Gared, who was near to seven feet. It stood as still as its name, but Rojer knew it was extending every sense to seek them, and that it would explode into motion if he were to allow them to be seen.
Leesha had described the power of the mind demons, the vibrations in her mind forcing her to act at their bidding. Perhaps music had a similar effect, Rojer mused. Perhaps an attempt to mimic that power was why music was first created, why some melodies brought forth the same emotions in any who heard them.
Such was the power of the Song of Waning. Rojer had sensed it the first time his wives had sung it for him, a power akin to his, but … faded. Lost in the thousands of years since it was last needed.
But now Rojer brought that power back to life. Under his direction, the song’s insistent call kept the demons’ attention on something they could never find, to the ignorance of all else. If they had wanted, Gared or the Sharum could have walked right up and struck at them. A blow would break the spell and give the demons an immediate threat to respond to, but from a Sharum spear or Gared’s axe, a single blow could easily cripple or kill.
But Rojer had spoken true when he told them weapons were not needed this night.
&
nbsp; He began the first verse of the song, Amanvah and Sikvah singing of the glory of Everam, and threaded in his first spell, one he and his wives had practised many times in their carriage. By the time the refrain came, the women wordlessly calling to the Creator, the demons had forgotten their hunt, dancing to his tune like villagers spinning a reel at solstice.
They carried that on into the next verse, when Rojer changed his tune to another practised melody. He began to stroll casually about the square, his wives following him. The demons trailed them like ducklings following their mother to water.
He let this go on through the refrain and the verse that followed, but added a note to signal his wives to the abrupt change about to come. As the verse ended, the demons were in the position he wished, and the three of them spun, hitting the demons with a series of piercing shrieks that had them howling and running from the square like whipped dogs.
They were almost out of range when he began the next verse. The corelings stopped short and froze in place like hunters trying not to be seen, lest they frighten off their prey. With contemptuous ease, he raised their tension until they could not bear it any longer, running about the square slashing and snarling, desperate to find the source of the music and put an end to it.
Rojer continued to lead them, offering false hints of where their quarry lay. There was an old hitching post outside the wardnet. He draped music over it.
There I am! Attack now!
Immediately, the demons shrieked and charged. The field demons leapt first, claws digging great furrows in the wood. A wind demon swooped out of the sky to strike the post, knocking one of the field demons free. The two corelings hit the cobbles in a tumble, biting and clawing. Black ichor splattered the square, and the wind demon barely escaped alive, taking to the air again with multiple tears in its leathern wings. The flame demons spat fire on the hitching post, and in moments it was ablaze.