Amanvah did not frown, but neither did she offer him a smile. In her eyes, there was no humour in sharusahk. He swallowed his smirk and let her guide his stance.
‘Your centre is the invisible line that connects you, the Ala, and Heaven,’ Amanvah said. ‘It is balance, but also so much more than that. It is the calm place of silence, the deep place you fall into when you embrace music, the soothing place where you ignore pain.’ She grabbed his crotch. ‘It is the hard place you use to seed your wives, and the safe place you use to sway with the wind.’
Rojer groaned at her touch, and this time, Amanvah did smile. She took a step back, signalling to Sikvah. Both women reached into pouches at their waists, slipping their fingers into the tiny cymbals used for the pillow dance.
For the next few days, the scene was repeated in one Laktonian village after another, talking the townsfolk down from their fear of the Sharum, and then performing for them. Rojer felt a bit of guilt for duping his wives about the message they were giving, but since they hadn’t even bothered to tell him they spoke his language at first, he managed to keep the feeling at bay. It wasn’t a betrayal. He was just spreading news they already thought common knowledge.
Each morning, Amanvah and Sikvah continued his sharusahk training while Enkido looked on the proceedings, his face carved from stone. It seemed more a lark than a concerted effort, but it was pleasurable enough. Leesha had told him of the deadly nerve strikes Inevera had attempted, and the ease with which the woman had wrestled her into a choke hold. There was none of that in his wives’ lessons. He improved slightly, but not enough to even attempt some of the more difficult poses.
‘You must walk before you dance,’ Amanvah said.
They were moving at a faster pace now as they moved farther from the Krasians’ control. Once, their caravan was attacked – a quick strike on horseback by a dozen bandits with throwing spears and short bows, meant to distract as another group raided one of the baggage carts. The Sharum were not fooled. They killed four of the bandits and injured several more before they broke and ran. The caravan was unmolested after that.
Less than a week out from Deliverer’s Hollow, they were beginning to feel more comfortable, with Leesha’s familiarity with the local Gatherers growing with proximity to home. Some were women she had corresponded with for years but never met. In the village of Northfork, there were actually tears and hugging, but all Rojer could feel was a growing tension. The folk here felt safer from the Sharum, and that made them bold.
That night in the taproom, after he finished the Song of Waning, there was polite applause, but then the barkeep called, ‘Ay, play The Battle of Cutter’s Hollow!’ The request was followed by a chorus of ays, with much hooting and stomping of feet.
Rojer suppressed a furrow of his brow that threatened to mar his Jongleur’s mask. Two months ago, he was touting that song from every rooftop, and had sold it dear to the Jongleurs’ Guild.
He looked to Amanvah. ‘Please play if that is your wish, husband. Sikvah and I will return to our table. We would be honoured to hear a song of our new tribe’s heroism in the night.’
They smoothly rolled back onto their heels and stood. Rojer wanted to kiss them as they passed, but while they seemed to be growing more comfortable with Northern customs, that was too far for any Krasian woman short of the Damajah herself to be expected to go in public.
Our new tribe. Rojer gritted his teeth. Did they really know what they were asking for? He had not been fool enough to sing The Battle of Cutter’s Hollow while in the confines of Everam’s Bounty – it bordered on blasphemy.
But they weren’t in Everam’s Bounty. They were in Laktonian lands now, and surrounded by Thesans who deserved to know that their cousins in the North were growing in power, and had their own saviour to rally to. Rojer didn’t really think Arlen Bales was the Deliverer any more than he did Ahmann Jardir, but if folk needed to look to one for strength in the night and a way forward, he would still take the Painted Man over the Shar’Dama Ka. He wasn’t going to spend the rest of his life lying about it and hiding that fact from his wives.
Now was as good a time as any.
Slowly, he began to play. As he fell into the music, his fear and anxiety began to drift away like demon ashes in the morning breeze. He had been so proud of the song when he had written it, and as his fingers danced across the familiar notes, he found he still was. The Battle of Cutter’s Hollow might not have the sheer power of the Song of Waning, but he could weave a shell of protection in the night with it, keeping corelings at bay, and it had power over the hearts of all good folk. It was already sung far and wide, and would likely outlive him, lasting into the ages like the ancient sagas.
He fell into the trance that playing always brought, blocking out his wives, the Sharum, Leesha, and the patrons. When he was ready, he began to sing.
He had kept the song simple, both so country folk could clap and sing along, but also for his own benefit. His voice was nothing compared with Amanvah’s and Sikvah’s, or with that of his famed master, Arrick Sweetsong. Even in his cups, when folk laughed and called him ‘Soursong’ and he could forget lyrics midsong, Arrick still had levels of vocal ability Rojer could never match.
But he had been trained by the best, and while he lacked the lungs and natural talent, Rojer could carry a tune well enough, his voice high and clear.
Cutter’s Hollow lost its centre
When the flux came to stay
Killed great Herb Gatherer Bruna
Her ’prentice far away
Not a one would run and hide,
They all did stand and follow
Killing demons in the night
The Painted Man came to the Hollow
In Fort Angiers far to the north
Leesha got ill tiding
Her mentor dead, her father sick
Hollow a week’s riding
Not a one would run and hide,
They all did stand and follow
Killing demons in the night
The Painted Man came to the Hollow
No guide she found through naked night
Just Jongleur travel wards
That could not hold the bandits back
As it did coreling hordes
Not a one would run and hide,
They all did stand and follow
Killing demons in the night
The Painted Man came to the Hollow
Left for dead no horse or succour
Corelings roving in bands
They met a man with tattooed flesh
Killed demons with bare hands
Not a one would run and hide,
They all did stand and follow
Killing demons in the night
The Painted Man came to the Hollow
The Hollow razed when they arrived
Not a ward left intact
And half the folk who called it home
Lay dead or on their backs
Not a one would run and hide,
They all did stand and follow
Killing demons in the night
The Painted Man came to the Hollow
Painted Man spat on despair
Said follow me and fight
We’ll see the dawn if we all stand
Side by side in the night
Not a one would run and hide,
They all did stand and follow
Killing demons in the night
The Painted Man came to the Hollow
All night they fought with axe and spear
Butcher’s knife and shield
While Leesha brought those too weak to
The Holy House to heal
Not a one would run and hide,
They all did stand and follow
Killing demons in the night
The Painted Man came to the Hollow
Hollowers kept their loved ones safe
Though night was long and hard
There’s reason why the battlefield’s
&n
bsp; Called the Corelings’ Graveyard
Not a one would run and hide,
They all did stand and follow
Killing demons in the night
The Painted Man came to the Hollow
If someone asks why at sunset
Demons all get shivers
Hollowers say with honest word
It’s ’coz we’re all Deliverers
Not a one would run and hide,
They all did stand and follow
Killing demons in the night
The Painted Man came to the Hollow
‘The true Deliverer!’ someone in the crowd shouted, and there was a cheer of agreement.
There was the sound of a chair hitting the floor, and Rojer opened his eyes to see Kaval moving his way, seething with anger. Gared leapt to his feet, putting himself between them. The giant Cutter was eight inches taller and a hundred pounds heavier. He grabbed Kaval and for a moment seemed to have control, but the drillmaster gave his great log of an arm a twist and Gared roared in pain just before he was thrown halfway across the room. Kaval gave him no further notice, picking up speed as he went after Rojer.
Wonda had instinctively reached for her bow, but when she realized it was in her room, she did not hesitate to attack the drillmaster unarmed. She kept to the balls of her feet, guard up as she threw quick, economical punches and kicks, wisely refusing to grapple. She lasted a few seconds longer than Gared, but then Kaval diverted one of her punches and chopped her in the throat with the edge of one hand. He grabbed her arm as she choked and twisted in close, sending her crashing onto the centre of a table, cracking it in half with the impact. Wonda hit the floor under a spray of splinters, ale, and shattered glass.
The barkeeper had produced a cudgel and people were shouting all over the room, but none of them was close enough to aid Rojer. He flicked his wrist to produce a throwing knife, but fumbled in his panic and dropped it as Kaval closed in.
Then Enkido was there, hooking Kaval’s armpit and turning his momentum into a throw. The drillmaster was wise to the move, quickstepping around and managing to keep his feet. He shouted something in Krasian as he came back in with a kick, followed by a snapping punch. Neither blow landed, Enkido slipping the kick and catching Kaval’s wrist to divert the punch. His free arm snapped out, punching the drillmaster hard in his shoulder joint. Enkido let the limb go and it fell limp. Kaval struck with his other fist, but it was like hitting at smoke. Enkido flowed out of its path and then struck Kaval’s other shoulder, rolling smoothly around to kick at the back of Kaval’s knee.
With frightening ease he got behind the drillmaster, locking his limp arms and forcing him down to the floor. Kaval’s face was agonized as his tendons screamed, but he did not cry out. Enkido was silent as always, his face expressionless.
‘Enough,’ Amanvah said, and the eunuch immediately released the drillmaster and took a step back. Kaval turned to the dama’ting, speaking through his teeth in Krasian. Rojer could not understand what he was saying, but the meaning was clear in the fanatical look in his eyes.
Amanvah responded in Thesan, her voice cold. ‘If you or any Sharum lays so much as a finger on my husband, Drillmaster, you will spend eternity sitting outside the gates of Heaven.’ Kaval’s eyes widened at that. He put his forehead on the floor, but there was still rage on his face.
Amanvah turned to Rojer. ‘And you, husband, will not play that song ever again.’
Rojer did not need to touch his medallion for strength. The flare of anger was enough and more. No one was going to tell him what he could and couldn’t play. ‘The Core I won’t. I’m no Holy Man. It’s not for me to tell folk what to believe. All I do is tell stories, and both of these are true.’
The little vein on Amanvah’s forehead throbbed, signalling anger that did not touch her eyes. She nodded.
‘Then my father will hear of this. Kaval, select your strongest, fastest dal’Sharum. I shall write a letter he is to put in the hand of Shar’Dama Ka and no other. Tell him to take two horses, kill no alagai but those that would hinder him, and that Sharak Ka itself may depend upon his swiftness.’
Kaval nodded and rolled back onto his heels to rise and comply, but Leesha stood and moved in front of him, crossing her arms. ‘He won’t make it,’ she warned.
‘Eh?’ Amanvah asked.
‘I’ve poisoned your Sharum,’ Leesha said, ‘with something that far outlasts the weak antidote I’ve been putting in their soup. You are several days from the nearest ally, and without the antidote, your man won’t last half that time.’
Amanvah stared at Leesha a long time, and Rojer wondered if it was honest word. Surely not. Leesha was capable of many things, but killing with poison? Impossible.
Amanvah’s eyes narrowed. ‘Kaval, do as I command.’
‘I’m not bluffing,’ Leesha warned.
‘No,’ Amanvah agreed, ‘I do not believe you are.’
‘But you will send a man to his death anyway?’ Leesha asked.
‘It is you who have served him death,’ Amanvah said. ‘I am doing what I must to protect his brothers in Everam’s Bounty. I will throw the dice and prepare herbs for him to take, but if you have truly poisoned him and I do not guess the cure, he will go to glory as a martyr, and his soul will weigh against you when you are judged by the Creator at the end of the lonely road.’
‘Neither of us will go to him clean after this,’ Leesha said.
‘You make no difference to these people by frightening them and confusing them with lies and half-truth. When my father chooses to take their lands, they will be taken. These people will be stronger for it, and have a chance at glory and Heaven.’ Amanvah flicked a finger, and the drillmaster was off. A few of the men in the taproom looked like they might hinder him, but Kaval bared his teeth and they wisely stepped from his path.
With a final glare at Rojer, Amanvah and Sikvah stormed off, heading up to their rooms with Enkido in tow. Rojer watched them sadly as they ascended the steps and vanished from sight. It was true he would never stop playing The Battle of Cutter’s Hollow, but he need not have sprung it on them onstage. He knew what it was like, to feel left out in the middle of an act.
When the shock wore off, Rojer realized he and the other Hollowers were completely alone for the first time since the journey began. Wonda and Gared seemed to have more injury to their pride than their bodies, and kept watch as the others spoke.
‘Well that was terrifying,’ Rojer said.
‘You were lucky,’ Leesha said. ‘It’s one thing to use the Song of Waning to tell the locals to get out of the Krasians’ path without their realizing what you’re doing, but quite another to sing of another Deliverer right under their noses. You may as well have spit on everything they believe in.’
‘So we should pretend the Battle of Cutter’s Hollow never happened?’ Wonda demanded. ‘That we fought for nothing? That my da just up and died, rather than went down taking a copse of woodies with him? That the Painted Man didn’t do just what happened in the song?’
‘Gettin’ sick of pretending up is down and black is white,’ Gared said.
‘Of course not,’ Leesha said. ‘But we’re vulnerable on the road. We’ll be back in the Hollow soon enough. Between now and then, I suggest we tread carefully.’
‘Ay, everyone all right?’ the innkeeper asked, bringing over a fresh tray of drinks. He was accompanied by Gery, the Speaker for Northfork, and Nicholl, the Herb Gatherer.
‘Ent been better,’ Rojer said, motioning for them to sit. ‘Night’s got no flavour if I don’t almost get killed.’
Gery blinked, but he and Nicholl took the offered seats. ‘Just what in the Core is going on? You said they were with you, but it looks to me like you’re with them. They holding you prisoner?’
Rojer knew they were expecting him to reply, but he felt numb and cloudy and had no answers. Leesha shook her head, and he was happy to let her have the floor, at least until she spoke.
‘It’s more comp
licated than that, Speaker,’ Leesha said, ‘and not your concern. We’ll be safe enough. The woman in white is the daughter of the Krasian leader …’
Rojer stiffened and leaned forward. Be careful, he thought.
‘… and married to Rojer. After tonight, none of the warriors will dare harm us without word from the Shar’Dama Ka, and that won’t come quickly. We’ll be safe in the Hollow by then, and better prepared for what’s coming than the people of Northfork.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ the Speaker demanded. ‘You tell us one thing, sing another, and show us a third.’
‘It means the Krasians are coming this way,’ Leesha said. ‘They may not be as brutal as they were with the Rizonans if you aren’t stupid enough to fight, but the effect will be the same. Every boy taken to be trained in demon fighting, every man made a second-class citizen, every woman a third. Your village will be put under an overseer and you will all be subject to Evejan law.’
‘You’re telling us we shouldn’t fight that?’ Gery asked. ‘We should just take it like a mare when they come to stick us?’
‘She’s telling you to run while you can,’ Erny said. ‘You’re right on the road they will march their army through. You’re smart, you’ll harvest whatever’s still growing, pack up everything you can, and get out of their path.’
‘And go where?!’ Gery demanded. ‘My family’s been in Northfork long as anyone can remember, and the same goes for most of the folk here. We should just abandon the place?’
‘Yes, if you value your lives more than the land,’ Leesha said. ‘If you want to keep to your duke, head for Lakton proper, if they’ll have you. I sent word of the threat to them months ago. The city on the lake should be safe, at least for a while.’
‘Only seen the lake once, and it scared the piss out of me,’ Gery said. ‘Don’t think any of us’re suited to living on that much water.’
‘Then come to the Hollow,’ Leesha said. ‘We’re not yet able to extend this far, but our reach is growing. Any who come will not be turned away, and allowed to keep their community and leaders. Good land will be allotted you, safely warded, and we’ll give you warded weapons and training to use them. It will soon be the safest place short of Duke Euchor’s fortress in Miln.’
The Daylight War Page 37