But there was power in that, too. Ahmann hated seeing his wife displayed so, but it was good to remind him publicly that even as Shar’Dama Ka, his power was not infinite. Thus, he was forced to pretend it was his choice.
It was an important lesson, and unless she missed her guess, she was about to teach it again. Before them stood Kajivah, Ashan, Imisandre, Hoshvah, and Hanya, along with Ahmann’s nieces Ashia, Shanvah, and Sikvah.
‘Hannu Pash has called my son Asukaji to take the white, Holy Deliverer,’ Ashan was saying, ‘but my daughter Ashia, blood of your blood, has been given blacks by the dama’ting. It is an insult.’
‘You should cherish your daughters, Ashan,’ Ahmann said. ‘If they enter the Dama’ting Palace, you may never see them again. There is no dishonour in being dal’ting.’ He gestured to Kajivah.
Ashan bowed deeply to the woman. ‘I mean no disrespect, Holy Mother.’
Kajivah bowed in return. ‘There is none taken, Damaji.’ She turned to her son, and even though he sat seven steps above her, it seemed she was looking down at him.
‘There is no dishonour in dal’ting, my son, but there is burden. Burden your sisters and I carried for many years. Would you have the law defend a husband who strikes a child of your blood?’
Ahmann turned to Inevera, but she cut him off before he could speak. ‘The dice did not call them.’ The words were quiet, for him alone, a benefit from sitting on high with him. ‘Would you take a cripple as Sharum?’
Ahmann scowled, but kept his voice equally low. ‘Are you saying my nieces are no better than cripples?’
Inevera shook her head. ‘I am saying they were meant for other things. One need not take orders to be great, beloved. Witness yourself. If you wish, I will take the girls into the Dama’ting Palace and train them, as you were trained in Sharik Hora.’
Ahmann looked at her a moment, then nodded, turning back to the others. ‘The girls shall be taken into the Dama’ting Palace as dal’ting, and trained. They shall emerge as kai’ting, and once married wear a white veil with their black headscarves and robes, as shall my mother and sisters from this day forth. As with the dama’ting, any man caught striking a kai’ting will lose either the offending limb or his life.’
‘Deliverer—’ Ashan began.
Ahmann cut him off with a subtle wave of his spear. ‘I have spoken, Ashan.’
Inevera rose as the Damaji fell back, humbled. She clapped once, rubbing her hands together as she took in the three girls, still so young and pliable. In truth, she had no idea what she would do with them, but that was sometimes the way.
Plant the seeds you have, the Evejah’ting said. For they may bear unexpected fruit.
Inevera escorted the girls out of the great chamber through her own personal entrance. There, just inside the door, stood Qeva and Enkido, who would have heard, by way of precise acoustics, every word in the main chamber.
‘The girls will be taught letters, singing, and pillow dancing for four hours each day,’ Inevera told Qeva. ‘The other twenty, they belong to Enkido.’
Ashia gasped at that, and Shanvah clutched at her. Sikvah began to cry.
Inevera ignored them, turning to the eunuch. ‘Make something worthy out of them.’
18
Strained Meeting
333 AR Summer
11 Dawns Before New Moon
Leesha felt the roiling in her stomach calm as the familiar outskirts of the Hollow came into sight. It was good to be home. The refugee villages, each on its own greatward, were coming together with incredible speed.
But then a shout, and the caravan came to an abrupt halt. Leesha stuck her head out the window and saw a company of Wooden Soldiers at the border of the central greatward. Fifty of them stood blocking the road on heavy destriers, their lacquered wooden armour polished and shining in the sun. A rustling in the scrub to the side of the road heralded archers, lightly armoured in leather, each with a drawn bow and two more arrows in hand.
Behind them were hundreds of Cutters, some with spears, but others with the original implements of their craft. Some were faces she knew. Most were not.
‘What is the meaning of this?’ Kaval shouted, and Leesha knew the idiot was reaching for his spear. She wrenched the door to her carriage open, tripping in her haste and ending up sprawled on the ground. She momentarily clutched her stomach in fear, but gritted her teeth and pushed herself up.
‘Mistress Leesha!’ Wonda cried, vaulting down from her horse. Leesha made her feet before the girl reached her and waved her off. As she expected, the Krasian men all had spears in hand, and the bowmen looked ready to cut them down and ask questions later.
‘Put up your weapons!’ she shouted. Her voice did not have hora magic to augment it, but the ability to boom was another thing Leesha had got from her mother. All eyes turned her way. No one made a move to disarm.
‘Who are you, to order the soldiers of Count Thamos?’ one of the mounted soldiers asked. He rode a fine destrier rather than one of the sleek Angierian coursers that carried the other Wooden Soldiers, and his cloak was held in place with gold chain. There was a captain’s tuft on his helm.
‘I am Mistress Leesha Paper, Herb Gatherer of Deliverer’s Hollow,’ Leesha said, ‘and I’d appreciate being spared the trouble of sewing up wounds from overeager men with itchy bow fingers.’
‘Cutter’s Hollow,’ the captain corrected. ‘And you’re late. Your sand Messenger arrived over a week ago, and said nothing about you bringing half the Krasian army with you.’
Kaval chuckled at that. ‘If one hundredth of the Deliverer’s army was on the road, the thunder of our footsteps alone would knock you off your horse, boy.’
The captain bared his teeth, and Leesha stormed into the road to stand between them. ‘Keep your tongue still, Drillmaster, I won’t have you shame my homecoming.’
Gared and Wonda moved to flank her, Wonda on foot, and Gared towering above the biggest mounted soldiers atop his heavy garron. The Wooden Soldiers began to whisper among themselves at the sight of him. Gared’s reputation preceded him. Another thing her mother had been right about. She wished she could get the sight of them stuck together like dogs out of her head.
‘Who in the Core are you?’ Gared demanded of the captain. The big man’s anger was palpable. ‘Don’t care to have spears pointed at me and mine on ground we bled for. You’d best lower them before they get shoved up your arse.’
The captain smiled. ‘You’re in no position to make threats, Mr Cutter. You don’t command here any more.’
‘Ay?’ Gared put his fingers to his lips and gave a shrill whistle. The Cutters standing behind the Wooden Soldiers broke ranks at the sound, flowing to either side around the count’s men. They were led by Dug and Merrem Butcher, and Leesha saw others she knew in the van. Yon Gray and his son and grandsons, all looking of an age with one another. Samm Saw, Ande Cutter, Tomm Wedge and his sons. Evin Cutter and his gigantic wolfhound.
The Cutters didn’t threaten, but they didn’t need to. The shortest of them was a head taller than any of the count’s footmen. Even the mounted men in armour looked cowed. Shadow was almost of a size with the horses, and they whinnied and pranced in fear as he passed. If the beast got any bigger, Evin would soon be riding it instead of his garron.
The Wooden Soldiers hesitated, glancing at their captain for instructions. By then it was too late and they were encircled, cutting the captain off from his men.
More Cutters appeared in the trees, and bowstrings were eased back under their glare. Dug and Merrem saluted as they came to stand next to Gared.
‘You were sayin’?’ Gared asked smugly.
The captain’s face had gone slack, but he shook his head, regaining his composure. He raised a hand and gave his men a complex series of gestures. They lowered their spears, seeming relieved, but looked ready to raise them again in an instant.
The soldier dismounted, removing his helmet and giving a curt bow to Leesha. ‘My name is Squire Gamon, ca
ptain of the count’s guard. We are here to escort you to His Highness.’
‘And you need seventy men to do that, Captain Gamon?’ Leesha asked. ‘Is the very heart of the Hollow so dangerous now?’
‘You have nothing to fear here, mistress,’ Gamon said, ‘but by order of Count Thamos, no Krasian is to enter the city bearing arms.’
‘Nie take me first,’ Kaval growled in Krasian. Leesha turned to him, raising an eyebrow.
‘Forgive me, mistress,’ the drillmaster said, ‘but my spear was a gift from the Deliverer himself, and I will not surrender it to some soft greenland chi’Sharum.’
‘You will,’ Gamon told him, ‘or we have orders to take them, no matter who stands in our way.’ He looked to Gared and Leesha. ‘You may have us outnumbered here, but the count commands a thousand Wooden Soldiers. Do you wish to spill blood over His Highness’s efforts to keep his people safe from known invaders?’
Leesha rubbed her temple. ‘If that was his goal, he has a funny way of showing it.’ She shook her head. ‘But no, we’re not.’ She turned to Kaval. ‘You will not surrender your weapons to him, Drillmaster, you will surrender them to me.’
‘I’m afraid that will not be good enough, mistress,’ Gamon said.
Leesha looked down her nose at him. ‘They’re disarmed, Captain. Don’t insist on taking the coreling by the horns.’
Gamon’s mouth opened, but no sound emerged. It was answer enough. She turned back to Kaval. ‘Collect the spears from your men, dal and kha’Sharum both, and stow them underneath my carriage. You have my word they will be returned to you when you leave the Hollow.’
Kaval hesitated, glancing over his shoulder. Leesha hissed at him. ‘Don’t look for the dama’ting,’ she said in Krasian. ‘Ahmann gave your command to me, not her. Do as you’re told. Now.’
The drillmaster curled his lip, but he bowed and complied, taking the weapons from his men and stowing them safely out of reach. Doubtless they still had knives, and Coliv a host of other hidden weapons, but there was a limit to Krasian honour. If she or Captain Gamon tried to search them, there would be blood.
Darsy appeared out of the crowd to stand at her side. She didn’t curtsy, but gave Leesha a hug that blew the wind from her. ‘No idea how glad I am you’re back.’ Leesha returned the embrace, remembering how greatly Darsy had once resented her. The shift was not new, but it continued to surprise her.
‘Now, Captain,’ she said, ‘if you’d care to escort us to His Highness, I would very much like to speak with him.’
The soldier nodded, replacing his helm and climbing back atop his horse. The Cutters opened their ring, allowing him to rejoin his men, but kept close, giving Leesha a sense of safety and protection she had not felt in months. It was good to be home.
Darsy moved to take the reins from the Krasian driving Leesha’s carriage, and the man hopped down as she and Leesha took the bench so they could speak privately as the caravan began to move once more. Wonda kept close on her horse, while Gared led his garron so he could consult with the Cutters.
‘You get my last message?’ Darsy asked. ‘Never got a reply.’
Leesha shook her head. ‘We’ve been on the road for weeks. Must have missed the Messenger. What’s been happening? I knew Thamos would be looking to flex his muscles when we returned, but I didn’t expect an armed welcome. Have things soured?’
Darsy shook her head. ‘Truer is the count’s been good to the Hollow. Been fair to the people, and brought a steady stream of supplies from the North. His engineers have done a lot to speed along the new greatwards and put roofs over people’s heads. New Tender’s much the same. Bit stricter than Jona, but folk like him well enough. Things keep on as they’ve been, and we’ll be bigger than Angiers in a year.’
‘It’s not surprising,’ Leesha said. ‘It was bold of the duke to give him the Hollow outright, and even if he does have a thousand men, he’s still outnumbered. Best not to give us any reason to oppose him till his power’s secure. He’s going to need all the goodwill he can get when the Painted Man returns.’
Darsy cleared her throat. ‘That’s what my message was about. He’s been back for two weeks. But he’s … different.’
Leesha looked at her sharply. ‘Different how?’
‘Calls himself Arlen Bales now,’ Darsy said, ‘and changed his Tender’s robes for clothes like regular folk. Says he’s from a place called Tibbet’s Brook, a town on the arse end of nowhere in Miln.’
‘Honest word?’ Leesha felt a wide smile break out on her face. Had Arlen finally faced his demons and found himself again? She thought of their last awkward parting, how much she had wanted him to go, but how safe she had felt in that final embrace.
‘Ay, seen it myself,’ Darsy said. ‘But there’s more. He has … powers now.’
Leesha looked at her. ‘He’s always had powers, Darsy. The wards—’
‘More’n that,’ Darsy cut in. ‘First night he came back, Ande Cutter was laid open like a butchered pig during a demon purge. I was there, and ready to let him go to the Creator. Wern’t nothing I could’ve done. You neither. But Painted Man just waved a hand, and the wounds closed up right before my eyes. Ande was up and about like nothing happened the next day.’
‘He just waved his hands?’ Leesha asked. ‘He didn’t draw wards on Ande’s flesh in demon ichor?’
‘Course not!’ Darsy was aghast. ‘What kind of sick soul would put demon ichor near a wound?’
‘Never mind that,’ Leesha said. ‘Was he just gesturing, or was he drawing wards in the air?’
Darsy thought a moment. ‘Might’ve been drawing wards, I guess. But not ones I know.’
Leesha nodded. ‘I’d like to speak to Ande later.’
‘Speak to half the town,’ Darsy said. ‘Next night he went to the hospit, and cleared it out. Not so much as a hangnail left to treat.’
‘Creator,’ Leesha said. She had learned some secrets of healing with hora magic while in Everam’s Bounty, but nothing on such a scale. The mind demon she and Inevera faced had cast spells by drawing wards in the air, but it hadn’t worked for her, even when she did it with the demon’s own horn in hand. Where was Arlen getting the power? The amount of magic he must have expended was staggering.
‘Ay,’ Darsy agreed, ‘and he’s been out to the refugee towns each night since, doing the same. All over there are tales of those at death’s door back on their feet. Still claims he ent the Deliverer, but less and less folk believe him. Night, startin’ to believe it myself.’
Leesha frowned. ‘How is the count handling it?’
‘Same as with Gared just now,’ Darsy said. ‘Tried to throw his weight around a bit, and got put in his place. Painted Man ent opposing Thamos openly, but any fool can see he’s got the count and new Tender cowed behind closed doors and pickin’ their words careful where others can hear.’
Leesha rubbed the ache in her temple, wishing Arlen were there to cure her headache the way he had every other ill in the Hollow. ‘Anything else I need to know?’
‘He fought some kind of smart demon last new moon,’ Darsy said. ‘Gets inside your head, and makes other corespawn fight like they got a good general. He’s got everyone making warded headbands before the moon goes dark again.’ She held out a strip of cloth, and Leesha took it, examining the mind ward there, same as the one she had been passing around the hamlets on her way home.
She nodded. ‘That all?’
Darsy shook her head, lowering her voice. ‘He ent alone.’
The ache became a stabbing pain. Darsy hadn’t given detail, but it was there in her tone. ‘Oh?’
‘Got a girl with him,’ Darsy confirmed. ‘Renna Tanner. Says she’s from back home in the Brook.’ Darsy paused, fixing her gaze on some far-off point. Her voice went flat. ‘Says they’re promised.’
Darsy kept her eyes staring off into nothing, waiting for Leesha to react. Almost everyone in the Hollow whispered about how Arlen had charged into the Holy House during the Battle
of Cutter’s Hollow bellowing her name when he thought she was in danger. They whispered of how he had first appeared at her side and how he was seen coming and going from her cottage at all hours. They whispered, and speculated. It was no secret the whole town was praying they would just get on with it and wondering what was taking so long. Leesha had often wondered herself.
Leesha realized she was holding her breath, and forced herself to blow it out. It was ridiculous for her to be upset. She had long since tired of waiting for Arlen and begun looking for other prospects. Night, the sickness that came on her each morning confirmed how she had moved on. Yet she’d wanted him. If he’d wanted her in return, she would have given herself to him without reservation.
But he hadn’t wanted her. He claimed it was his curse. That he could not create a family with his blood tainted by demon magic. Somehow, that only made her love him more, his sacrifice so noble, so proud. She felt weak for having sought the arms of others in the light of it.
But had it been honest word? Now, a scant few months later, he had gone from swearing off love to promising himself to another. Had all his claims just been an act? The thought filled her with anger. How dare he? Did he think her so weak, so desperate for his love, that she couldn’t handle the truth? That she required a lie to sugar the medicine as he rebuffed her? Coward.
All this went through her head, but she had learned her lessons from the dama’ting, and her face showed none of it. ‘That’s well,’ she managed at last. ‘He deserves to be happy, and a good woman will help keep his feet on the ground.’
‘Not this one,’ Darsy muttered. Leesha looked at her curiously, but the big woman rubbed at her throat and did not elaborate further.