The Daylight War

15

333 AR Summer

16 Dawns Before New Moon

‘Close your mouth, dear,’ Elona told Leesha. ‘You look like a woodbrained bumpkin.’

Leesha turned to retort, but realized she was indeed standing with her mouth open. Her teeth clicked as she snapped it shut, just as everyone around the Northfork town square burst into a roar, hooting and clapping and stomping their feet. One of the Sharum let out an ululating cry of delight, and even Kaval looked as if he had forgotten his rage.

It was understandable. The Sharum respected nothing more than a man’s ability to kill demons, and Rojer had just displayed incredible power, killing corelings without even touching them. Even the Shar’Dama Ka could not do that. They looked at him awestruck, but no less so than the local villagers. Even Gared had that fanatical gleam in his eye, the one she thought reserved for Arlen alone.

But the power was not all Rojer’s. She had heard him charm demons with his fiddle many times, but never so loudly her ears rang and the floorboards rattled. There was hora magic at work, she would bet her bottom.

At barely seventeen, it was easy to think Amanvah just a girl — one Leesha had dominated before. But she wore the white of dama’ting, and that meant she was schooled in the secrets of demon bone magic. Magic Leesha had seen Inevera display to powerful effect. She had done something to Rojer’s fiddle, as well as the golden chokers she and Sikvah wore, using the magic to amplify their music.

Leesha understood the principles now — using bones to power wardings even when there were no demons about. Already she had begun to experiment, but the Krasian holy women had centuries of experience to draw on, while she was only just now feeling her way.

The crowd was still cheering when she left the porch, going out to the trio. Rojer was bowing like a master showman, gesturing for his wives to do the same. Sikvah did, bowing lower than her husband, as was the custom, though in her bed silks the move was downright scandalous. Amanvah looked decidedly uncomfortable at the idea of bowing to her lessers, and settled for nodding to the crowd like the Duchess Mum acknowledging a curtsy.

Rojer beamed at Leesha as she approached, and she embraced him, ignoring Amanvah’s hiss. ‘Rojer, that was incredible. Amazing.’

Rojer’s boyish smile threatened to take in his ears. ‘I couldn’t have done it without Amanvah and Sikvah.’

‘Indeed.’ Leesha nodded to the women. ‘You sounded like the Creator’s own seraphs.’ Both women’s eyes widened at the compliment, and Leesha turned her attention back to Rojer before they could recover.

‘Did Amanvah ward your fiddle?’

Rojer nodded. ‘Just the chinrest. The wards let me play loud enough to break the barn. And using it makes me feel …’

‘Energized?’ Leesha asked. ‘You should be half deaf after that.’

Rojer started, wiggling a finger in his ear. ‘Huh. Not even a ring.’

‘May I see?’ Leesha asked, her tone casual. Rojer unclipped the piece and handed it to her without a thought. Amanvah moved to stop him — too late. Leesha snatched it and took a quick step back. She unbuttoned a special pocket on her apron, slipping out the pair of gold-rimmed spectacles Arlen had made for her.

The lenses were not corrective, but wards in the frame and glass granted her the same wardsight Arlen used, letting her see the flow of magic. The chinrest was bright with power, its wards shining as if carved from lightning. She recognized almost all of them, wards of siphoning and linking, along with projection and … resonance.

‘There’s more here than just amplification, Rojer,’ she said. ‘There are resonance wards.’

Rojer looked at her blankly. ‘What does that mean?’

‘It means anything said near this fiddle will resonate somewhere else.’ Leesha turned to Amanvah. Several of the many piercings in her ear glowed bright with magic. ‘With an earring, perhaps?’

Amanvah kept her expression calm, but her hesitation betrayed her nevertheless. Rojer looked at his wife and his joyous expression fell into a stung look. ‘Is that how you knew what we said in the taproom?’

‘You were conspiring-’ Amanvah began.

‘Don’t hand me that demonshit!’ Rojer snapped. ‘You spent weeks making that chinrest. This wasn’t a reaction to anything I did on the road, it was your plan all along to spy on me.’

‘You are my husband,’ Amanvah said. ‘It is my duty to support you and keep you from trouble, sending aid when you are in need.’

‘Always lies with you!’ Rojer shouted. The Sharum stiffened at that — shouting at a dama’ting was an unthinkable crime, but they did not move to intercept as they might have before, still awestruck at Rojer’s power. Even Enkido hung back, waiting for a signal from his mistress.

‘You are so fast to quote the Evejah when it suits you,’ Rojer went on, ‘but does it not command truthfulness?’

‘Actually,’ Leesha cut in, ‘the book expressly states that oaths and promises to chin are meaningless if they in any way hinder service to Everam.’ Amanvah glared at her, but Leesha only smiled, daring her to contradict.

‘The Core with this,’ Rojer said, snatching the chinrest back from Leesha and lifting it high to hurl it down at the cobbles.

‘No!’ Amanvah and Leesha shouted at once, both reaching to grab his arm and forestall him. Amanvah looked at her curiously.

‘You saw the power it gave you,’ Leesha said. ‘Don’t throw that away in your anger.’

‘The mistress speaks truth, husband,’ Amanvah said. ‘It would be a month and more to make a new one, if we could even find a piece so fine to work with.’

Rojer looked at her coldly. ‘When you first gave me the box, I wondered if it might be a pair of golden shackles. Seems I wasn’t far off. I won’t be your slave, Amanvah.’

‘Are we slaves to fire because it can burn us?’ Leesha asked. ‘You are wise to its power now, Rojer. I can paint wards of silence on a box for it. Put it away when you want your privacy, but don’t destroy it.’

‘Throwing it to the stones would do little in any event,’ Amanvah added. ‘The magic strengthens the metal and wood. You will find it hard to destroy, and there is none other worthy of its power.’

Rojer seemed to deflate. He looked at the object sadly, then shoved it into a pocket and turned back to the inn. ‘I’m going to bed.’ He headed off without waiting to see if anyone followed. Amanvah and Sikvah heeled him like dogs, Enkido with them.

A few villagers had wandered out into the square to look in fascinated horror at the demon corpses, but a wind demon cry cut the night and sent them scurrying back inside. Leesha moved to do the same, though the wards on her shawl were enough to turn any coreling attention from her.

Before she went inside, she took one last look down the way to the Messenger road, where even now one of the Sharum raced back towards Everam’s Bounty.

Alone in her room, Leesha wept.

She did not fully understand the demon dice, their secrets of foretelling closely guarded by the dama’ting. The Evejah spoke of a ward of prophecy, but it was not shown, and Leesha did not think she would ever persuade a Bride of Everam to willingly let her examine a set.

But from what she gathered, the dice did not provide specific predictions, only facts that hinted at what the future might hold. Odds were Amanvah had not guessed the poison Leesha had given the Sharum, and its cure was tricky and time-consuming to prepare. Given the speed with which the warrior left, Leesha doubted she had done anything to aid him. In a day, he would weaken. In two, he would be dead.

There had been no choice. She didn’t know how Ahmann would take the news she meant to militarize the Hollow as a bulwark against him. She couldn’t keep it from him forever, but she needed time. Time to warn the Laktonians and Duchess Araine. Time to fill the Hollow and prepare, both for the coming Waning and for Sharak Sun. But that made her feel no less wretched as she crawled into bed, throwing the coverlet over her head.

For the first time, Leesha wished she’d never gone to Everam’s Bounty. Night, she wished she had never left Cutter’s Hollow, never gone to Hag Bruna’s hut and learned Herb Gathering. She’d have been a wonderful papermaker, and it would have made her father so happy.

But much as she would have liked to shift the blame, Leesha knew that was too easy, and a lie.

‘Why must I learn poison?’ she had asked, all those years ago.

‘So you can cure it, girl,’ Bruna told her. ‘Learning the mixtures and signs won’t turn you into some stinkhearted Weed Gatherer.’

‘Weed Gatherer?’ Leesha asked.

Bruna spat. ‘Failed Herb Gatherers. They sell weak cures and poison the enemies of nobles for coin.’

Leesha was aghast. ‘Women actually do that?’

Bruna grunted. ‘Not everyone is as sweet and moral as you, dearie. I had one of my own apprentices turn that way. Corespawn me if I let it happen again, but you need to know what you’re up against.’

I’m up against myself, Leesha thought. Killing men for my convenience. Am I any better than a Weed Gatherer?

She sobbed again, her body racked until exhaustion took her and she passed into slumber. Even there she found no peace, her dreams haunted with violence. Inevera, turning purple under her choking hands. Ahmann, standing by as his warriors killed Rizonan men and raped the women. Gared, his throat slashed by the blade of Abban’s crutch. Rojer, strangled in his bed by his own wives. Kaval, beating Wonda to death and calling it ‘training’. The Cutters and Sharum locked in a bloody storm of spear and axe as Arlen and Ahmann pointed them at each other.

A lone Sharum, dead on the road.

She woke with a start, her stomach roiling, and practically fell from bed in her desperation to get the chamber pot. It sloshed as she dragged it from under the bed, but she was not fast enough even so, and vomit mixed with last night’s urine on the floorboards. She knelt there, shuddering and retching, tears streaming down her face. Her eye socket ached, and she knew another cluster of headaches was on its way.

Oh, Bruna, what have I become?

There was a knock at the door, and Leesha froze. Dawn was only a purple hint outside the window. Too early to leave for the caravan.

Again the knock. ‘Go away!’

‘You open this door, Leesha Paper, or I’ll have Gared break it down,’ her mother said. ‘You just see if I don’t.’

Leesha stood slowly, her legs watery and her stomach still roiling. She found a clean cloth and wiped her face, then pulled a robe over her stained nightdress, cinching it tight.

She went to the door and lifted the bar, opening it a crack. Elona’s face, looking like she’d just swallowed a lemon, was never the first thing she wanted to see in the morning.

‘Now isn’t a good time …’ Leesha began, but Elona ignored her, pushing into the room. Leesha sighed and shut the door behind her, dropping the bar back in place. ‘What do you want, Mother?’

‘Thought you’d grown out of waking me and your father with your blubbering,’ Elona said. ‘Feeling bad about what you did, killing that boy?’

Leesha blinked. No matter how many times her mother read her mind and cut to the quick, it never ceased to shock her.

‘Well don’t,’ Elona snapped. ‘You did what you had to, and that boy knew what he was getting into when he picked up his first spear.’

‘It’s not that simple-’ Leesha began.

‘Pfagh!’ Elona waved a hand dismissively. ‘How many Rizonans you think he killed when they took the city? How many lives are you saving by keeping him from telling tales?’

Leesha felt her legs giving way, and fell to a seat on the bed, trying hard to make it seem as if she had meant to sit all along. Her stomach felt like a boiling pot, stirred too quickly and threatening to foam over the rim. ‘I wouldn’t have done it otherwise, but that doesn’t mean I should be proud of it.’

Elona grunted. ‘Maybe not, but for what it’s worth, I’m proud of you, girl. Know I don’t say it as much as you deserve, but there it is. Didn’t think you had it in you to stand up like that. Glad to see something of me in there, after all.’

Leesha frowned. ‘Sometimes I think there’s too much of you in me already, Mother.’

Elona snorted. ‘You should be so lucky.’

‘Why the change of heart?’ Leesha asked. ‘You were the one pushing me to marry Ahmann and let him make me a queen.’

‘Had a better look at his rule since then,’ Elona said. ‘Ent no way I’m spending the rest of my wrinkle-free days with everything except my eyes wrapped under seven layers of cloth.’ She hefted her breasts, barely contained in a dress with a swooping neckline. ‘What’s the point of having paps like these if you can’t put ’em on display and laugh as men drool and women simmer?’

Leesha raised an eyebrow. ‘Wrinkle-free?’

Elona glared, daring her to say more. ‘Letting that warrior go would have jeopardized everything you’ve worked for. You might have laid the drama on a bit thick, but there’s no denying this trip was good for the Hollow. You bought a conditional peace, scouted the enemy camp, whispered wisdom and doubt into the ear of its leader, learned of those mind demons and bone magic. All that, and you got your toes curled in the process. Hag Bruna was still around, she’d be prouder than Jan Cutter showing off his prize bull.’

Leesha smiled wanly. ‘I hope so. I was just thinking I’d disappointed her.’

Elona turned to the window, looking over her reflection with a critical eye. Though there were no men to see, she reflexively straightened her hair and smoothed the bosom of her dress. ‘A bit, perhaps. Any apprentice of Bruna — night, any daughter of mine — should have been able to enjoy a few rolls in the feathers without making a child.’

Leesha felt her face flush red. ‘What?’

Elona pointed to the disgusting mixture on the floor, making no effort to help clean it. ‘Seen you throw your hysterics a lot of times, girl, but ent never seen it sick you up. Night, I can’t recall you sloshing up ever. You got more than Mum’s paps and posterior. You got my iron belly.’ She smiled, patting her stomach. ‘But I was sick as a cat the whole time I was carrying you.’

Leesha felt her boiling stomach freeze over. She tried to swallow as she ticked off the days since her last flow, but the lump in her throat prevented it.

Could it be true?

With more desperation than she had reached for the chamber pot, Leesha went for her pocketed apron. Like a Jongleur’s coloured balls, she juggled herbs and instruments, grinding and mixing until she had a tiny vial of milky fluid. She swabbed at herself and put it in the vial, holding her breath.

Her lungs gave way well before the time the chemics took to react. She turned pointedly and began to count by thousands to mark the minutes until she could turn back and see if the chemics had gone from milk white to pink.

One thousand. Two thousand. Three thousand …

‘You already know what it’s going to say,’ Elona said. ‘Quit biting at your fingers and figure out what you’re going to do about it.’

Leesha raised an eyebrow. ‘Do?’

‘Don’t play dim with me, child,’ Elona snapped. ‘I was apprenticed to Bruna as well. You could flush the problem right out if you wanted.’

‘Really, Mum?’ Leesha asked bitterly. ‘You, who’ve pushed me to have children my whole life, would tell me to kill the child?’

‘Ent a child, it’s a notion,’ Elona said. ‘And a bad one, at that. Doesn’t take a genius to see that babe would be a gap in our wards big enough for the mother of all demons to ride through.’

One hundred thousand. One hundred and one thousand. One hundred and two thousand …

Leesha shook her head so hard she felt it rattle. ‘No. If it’s far enough along for me to be sick, it’s a life, not a notion. You complained I missed my most fertile years, Mum, and you weren’t wrong. If this is how the Creator wants to give me a child, then I’m going to take it.’

Elona rolled her eyes. ‘You picked a bad time to go all Canon, girl.’ She shrugged. ‘But if you’re not going to flush it, you’d best seduce someone else, quick and public, to buy yourself time.’

Leesha felt her mouth fall open. ‘I swear, Mum, if you so much as say Gared’s name …’

But Elona surprised her with another disgusted wave of her hand. ‘Pfagh! You can do better than Gared Cutter! Have another go at the other Deliverer, now that you have the knack. It’s clear as day he’s pent and needs a draining. Do him as good as you did the demon of the desert, and you can have the both of them eating out of your hand and brought to heel by winter.’

‘Or brought to blows, all our respective men behind them,’ Leesha said.

‘That’s gonna happen no matter what, and you know it,’ Elona said. ‘Best you can do is guide the where and how.’

Leesha grimaced. ‘There is nothing in this world I hate more than when your words make sense, Mother.’

Elona cackled.

‘Making the Painted Man think it’s his might not be possible,’ Leesha said. ‘He won’t touch me any more. He’s terrified of making a child tainted by his demon magic.’

Elona shrugged. ‘So tell him you’re taking pomm tea. Leach some leaves and leave them out where he can see. Tell him it’s just a release.’

Three hundred fifty thousand. Three hundred and fifty-one thousand. Three hundred and fifty-two thousand …

Leesha shook her head. ‘He’s not that gullible, Mother.’

‘Demonshit,’ Elona said. ‘He’s a man, Leesha. Every single one of them needs his pecker put down now and again. Lure him back by using your mouth on him once or twice. Make him feel safe, then get him drunk and pounce. It’ll be over before he knows what hit him.’ She smirked. ‘Do a good enough job, and he’ll even be back for more.’

Leesha felt her stomach roil again. Was she really considering this? ‘And in less than a year, when he sees the child has an olive tint to its skin and an upward twist to its eyes?’

Elona shrugged. ‘Never know. Babe might take after you. There’s nothing of Erny in you that the eye can tell, and that’s for the best.’

‘Better I got his heart,’ Leesha agreed. ‘And what’s between his ears.’

‘Ay, but you got my stones,’ Elona said, ‘and you can thank the Creator for that. The day the Krasians come to the Hollow, the only thing Ernal Paper is going to do is piss himself. You ent helpless, but when the time comes, you’re going to want a strong man at your side.’

Leesha wanted to shout at her, but could not find the energy. Her mother had been making more and more sense of late. Was she changing, or was Leesha?

Seven hundred thousand. Seven hundred and one thousand. Seven hundred and two thousand …

‘I don’t trust the Painted Man any more than the demon of the desert,’ Leesha said.

Elona shrugged again. ‘Then find another. I was wrong about the fiddle-boy. He’s got power and would stand by you even if the babe came out with Jardir’s forked beard, but you’ve missed your chance there — unless you want to play a dirtier game.’

‘Rojer’s marriage is in enough trouble without my help,’ Leesha said.

Elona nodded. ‘There’s really only one other choice, then.’

Leesha looked at her mother, and saw a triumphant smile on her face. ‘Mother …’

Elona held up her hands. ‘You told me not to say his name and I won’t, but you think on it. He’s strong as an ox and braver than any other man in the Hollow. The Cutters all look to him when the Painted Man ent about. And he loves you. Always has, in his own brutish way. All that, with a pea-sized brain. You could rule the Hollow through a man like that.’

One million, Leesha thought, turning to look at the vial.

Her heart fell.

A handful of herbs leached in boiling water calmed Leesha’s stomach, but nothing she dared take had the slightest effect on the throbbing pain in her head. When she and Elona finally emerged from her room, they found Gared, Wonda, and Erny in the taproom already, waiting by empty bowls of porridge.

Shamavah was haggling with the innkeeper. As usual, she found fault with everything, and based on Sim’s posture, he looked inclined to let her name her price, if she would only go.

Without shifting her attention, Shamavah pointed a finger and one of the black-clad dal’ting women moved to take Leesha’s bag. Normally she would have protested, but Leesha was exhausted, head hurting and knees weak. A bowl had been set out for her, but she ignored it, waiting impatiently. All she wanted was to climb into her cart and be left alone.

In truth, no one seemed much inclined towards talking, looking around uncomfortably as Shamavah berated Sim over things that had been totally acceptable. It went on and on until Leesha wanted to scream.

‘Night, just ripping pay him, already!’ she snapped at last. ‘The rooms were fine!’ Everyone jumped at the sound.

Shamavah bowed. ‘As the intended wishes.’ The words were tight. She quickly counted out the coins, and they were on their way. Enkido, standing atop the steps, knocked on a door then, and Amanvah, Sikvah, and Rojer emerged.

Rojer’s wives surrounded him like bodyguards as they went down the steps and out the door, glaring as if daring Leesha to approach.

Not that Leesha had the slightest desire to do so. The pendulum had swung back and forth so many times last night that she could barely remember who was mad at who for what. She could not get to her carriage fast enough.

Light pained her when the headaches were this bad. Just the few feet from the porch awning to the carriage steps felt like Ahmann’s description of the beating sun on the cracked flats of the Krasian desert. Inside, she pulled the curtains close.

Erny took the far corner, closing his curtains without being asked, though he left himself a sliver of sunlight to illuminate the book on his lap. Elona sat across from her but was blissfully silent, staring at nothing, her thoughts far away.

She was still beautiful, Leesha had to admit. So much so that one who did not know her might take that stare for the blank one of a pretty, dim-witted thing. Like her every other pose, Elona had cultivated that look. She was anything but dim-witted, as many learned to their regret. Everyone always said Leesha got her brains from her father, but she wasn’t so sure. Elona Paper was many things, but she was no fool.

There was no music from Rojer’s carriage as the morning wore on, nor cries of pleasure. But there was shouting. Plenty of that. And worse, long painful silences.

When they stopped for lunch, Leesha stepped out long enough to make water and have a bowl brought to her carriage. She caught a glimpse of Rojer stretching his legs, but kept her distance so as not to provoke Sikvah, who stood close by.

Krasians of all castes grew silent as Rojer drew near, pointing and whispering as he passed. Word of his exploits had obviously spread.

Leesha felt much better by evening. Without asking, the Krasians had bypassed the next hamlet and circled the carts some miles down the road. Leesha moved about the camp, inspecting the wards, but the Krasian circles were strong. Sharum patrolled the perimeter, killing any demons that drew near with neat spear thrusts from behind the safety of the wards. Wonda did the same, picking off corelings with her bow to clear the area. Gared moved in each time, finishing them quickly with chops of his warded axe and machete.

Leesha looked at him, thinking of what her mother had said. Indeed, Gared was handsome, and Leesha had loved him once, before he proved selfish and possessive to a degree she could not abide.

But did that make him so different from the other men she’d known? None of them had ever truly met her needs. Was Gared any worse than Rojer, Marick, or Arlen, or even Ahmann?

She was given her own tent, its carpeted floor warm and the cluster of pillows that served as the bed inviting. Wonda stood watch outside the flap, her bow ready.

At her request, the girl had provided Leesha with a small bowl of demon ichor from one of her kills, glowing brightly in wardsight. Leesha took a horsehair brush and her plainest shawl, painting wards of misdirection and confusion, adding wards gleaned the night Inevera had used magic to trap Leesha in her pillow chamber. Wards that would direct the power towards humans as well as demons.

The wards glowed dimly as she threw the shawl over her shoulders and lifted the tent flap. Wonda stiffened, looking around and listening carefully, but her eyes slipped away from Leesha as easily as Rojer had done to the corelings. She moved to inspect the flap, peeking inside to see the blankets and pillows Leesha had arranged to appear as her sleeping body. She grunted and replaced the flap, resuming her station outside the tent.

Hidden in plain sight, Leesha passed through the camp towards Gared’s tent, ignored by the Sharum sentries. She still wasn’t entirely sure what she meant to do. Even if she went through with it and lay with him, she did not think she would have the nerve to let herself be caught at it as her mother instructed. And if not, what was the point?

She drew a deep breath, decided, and reached for the tent flap. A deep voice from within checked her.

‘Ma’am, we can’t keep doin’ this. It ent right.’

‘You didn’t mind me teaching you what goes where with your da asleep ten feet away,’ Elona said, ‘but now it’s so wrong?’

There was a shuffling sound, and Gared groaned.

‘One last time,’ Elona said. ‘Just so you don’t forget me.’

‘We’ll get caught,’ Gared said, but there was more shuffling, and this time Elona groaned.

‘We ent been caught at it yet,’ she gasped. A rhythmic slapping of flesh followed, and Leesha felt ill. She threw open the tent flap and strode inside, tossing back her shawl. Elona’s arms were around Gared’s neck, and he held her suspended in mid-air, skirts around her waist and his breeches around his ankles.

‘You have now,’ Leesha said.

‘Night!’ Gared shouted, dropping Elona, who gave a yelp as her bare bottom hit the hard canvas floor of the tent.

Leesha put her hands on her hips. ‘Every time I think I’ve seen the lowest you can sink, Mother, you find a deeper place.’

‘Oh, if that ent the night calling it black,’ Elona muttered, getting to her feet and smoothing her skirts. Gared had yanked up his breeches and was attempting to force his still-stiffened member back inside. It was a futile task.

‘When I tell Da …’ Leesha began.

‘You won’t,’ Elona said, ‘if not out of respect for what it would do to your poor father, then on your Gatherer’s oath.’

‘This isn’t Gatherer’s business,’ Leesha said.

‘Everything is Gatherer’s business when you wear the apron!’ Elona shot back. ‘Did Bruna ever belie the affairs of the town? I promise you, she knew every one.’

She looked down her nose. ‘And besides, I’m not the only one with a secret. What are you doing here in the middle of the night, Leesha?’

Leesha glanced at Gared, but he had turned his back on them, still fumbling. Her mother had her checked, and she knew it.

‘Come along,’ she said, lifting one side of her shawl to wrap it around Elona’s shoulders. It would protect them both as they went back to the tents where they belonged.

Gared finally managed to lace his trousers back up and turned back to them, a guilty look on his face.

‘You’ve disappointed me again, Gared Cutter,’ Leesha said. ‘And just when I was beginning to think you a changed man.’

Gared looked stricken. ‘It ent my fault!’

‘Course not,’ Elona snapped as she stepped into Leesha’s shawl and they turned to go. ‘Mrs Paper had her way with you and you were helpless as a Rizonan girl when the Sharum came.’

Leesha was prepared for the morning sickness this time, and managed to deal with it without alerting anyone that anything was amiss. By lunchtime, she was feeling normal.

Gared came to her as she stretched her legs. ‘All right if we talk a bit?’

Leesha sighed. ‘I don’t think there’s much you can say, Gar.’

Gared nodded. ‘Guess I deserve that.’

‘You guess?’ Leesha asked. ‘Gared, you had sex with my mother!’

‘What’s it to you?’ Gared demanded. ‘You declared our promise broken a long time ago, and I ent bothered you since. I don’t owe you anything.’

‘What about my father, who took you in when your home was destroyed?’ Leesha demanded. ‘Did you owe him anything? Or your own da?’

Gared spread his hands. ‘You don’t know what it was like, Leesh. After Bruna made me tell the town I’d lied about you, no girl would let herself be caught alone with me for a second. Even after you left town for Angiers, I was as popular as itchweed.’

‘I don’t blame them,’ Leesha said.

Gared swallowed a scowl, keeping his patience. ‘Ay, maybe so. But it was lonely, too. Yur mum was the only woman in the whole town paid any attention to me. Only one who acted like I was worth more’n spit.’

He sighed. ‘And in the right light, she looked just like you. I could close my eyes and pretend …’

‘Ugh!’ Leesha cried. ‘I do not need to hear that you thought of me while you …’ She felt her nausea returning, tasting bile in her mouth.

‘Sorry,’ Gared said. ‘Just tryin’ to give honest word. Never stopped wanting you.’

Leesha spat the sour taste from her mouth at his feet. ‘Could have had the real me fifteen years ago, you’d kept your mouth shut.’

‘Know that,’ Gared said. ‘Curse myself for it every night. It’s why I was always so angry. But I wonder, maybe it was the Creator’s Plan?’

‘Eh?’ Leesha asked.

‘Whole world would be different, we’d kept our promise,’ Gared said. ‘You might never have trained with Bruna, or gone away to study in the Free Cities. Might not have brought the Deliverer back with you.’

‘The Painted Man is not the Deliverer, Gared,’ Leesha said.

‘How do you know?’ Gared asked. ‘What makes you so sure you got it all figured out? Maybe the Creator din’t make him perfect for a reason. Maybe he’s testing the rest of us, too. Maybe the Deliverer’s just supposed to show the path, and we’re the ones to walk it.’

Leesha looked at him curiously. ‘Why, Gared Cutter, when did such deep thoughts climb into that thick head?’

Gared scowled. ‘Just an idiot to you, ent I? Not worth the attention of that big brain of yurs?’

‘Gared, I didn’t mean-’

‘Course you did,’ Gared cut her off. ‘Yur always so humble, but it’s all an act as you talk to the simpletons.’ He turned to leave.

Leesha reached out, taking his arm. ‘Don’t go.’

But Gared yanked his arm away, refusing to even look at her. ‘No, I get it. I’m just a strong axe and a hard cock to the Paper women.’

He stormed off, leaving Leesha feeling lonelier and more confused than ever.