‘Truly breathtaking,’ Thamos said, coming into the fitting room. ‘My Wooden Soldiers will gnash their teeth in envy.’
Wonda blushed, dropping her eyes as she always did at the sight of the handsome count. Wonda was never far from Leesha’s side, and was privy to her every secret, including the nights she spent with the count. But more than that, Wonda was a girl unused to the kind of male attention that Thamos lavished on every woman in his presence, regardless of age or beauty.
Makes you feel like you’re the only one in the room, Leesha thought, looking at him and suppressing a shy smile herself.
‘Thanks, Yur Highness.’ Wonda attempted to bow, but the armourer pulled hard on her stays.
‘Keep still,’ he grunted.
Wonda blushed deeper, but Thamos pretended not to notice. ‘I am told to expect our mistress to be even bolder than Darsy Cutter in the night.’
‘I’ll keep her safe,’ Wonda promised.
‘Of that I have no doubt.’ Thamos smiled, but Leesha saw him tighten his lips. He did indeed have doubts, and had argued them long and hard with Leesha in private. His eyes flicked to a private alcove, and she moved off to speak with him alone.
‘I wish you would reconsider,’ he said. ‘Stay by my side in the battle. My Wooden Soldiers …’
‘Would form a ring around me five men thick, and keep me from my business,’ Leesha said. ‘They, and you, need their attention on the demons, not on protecting me.’ She smiled. ‘Wonda and I have been at this a lot longer than you.’
Thamos’ face soured, but he could not disagree. ‘It’s not just the demons I worry about. My spies report that since our … since the wedding night, many of the Krasians have been grumbling about you and making threats.’
‘That reminds me,’ Leesha said. ‘The Sharum will have their weapons returned when they arrive at muster tonight.’
‘What?!’ Thamos sputtered. ‘Did you not hear what I just—’
‘It is irrelevant,’ Leesha said. ‘We need every able-bodied warrior ready tonight, and the Sharum have already proven they can kill with or without their weapons. Their religion forbids they attack anyone during Waning. Only demons need fear them. After the moon begins to wax once more, they will surrender them again.’
‘I forbid it,’ Thamos said.
Leesha smiled. ‘It is already done, Highness. None of the Hollowers will support you if you try to disarm them again now.’
Thamos shook his head, laughing helplessly. ‘You are an impossible woman, Leesha Paper.’
‘Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer one of the insipid ladies at court as your countess?’ Leesha asked.
Thamos’ predatory grin returned. ‘Not for an instant.’
Rojer watched as Hary Roller held his conductor’s wand aloft, holding the final note. The Jongleurs and apprentices had been practising the Song of Waning almost nonstop ever since they recovered from Arlen and Renna’s wedding. If Rojer’s performance at the celebration hadn’t been impetus enough, then his demonstration out beyond the greatwards the following night surely was.
Most of the players weren’t ready yet. Hary had proven a fine teacher, learning the song quickly and working tirelessly to pass it on, but only the most skilled of the Jongleurs had been able to master the more complex arrangements in the time given them.
They had tested their abilities last night with mixed results. Many of the Jongleurs could affect the demons much as Rojer once had – mesmerizing them; driving them to dance or follow him, to flee or attack. They could even walk unmolested in the night, so long as they kept the underlying tune.
But they could not improvise, nor could they actually hurt the demons in the way he, Amanvah, and Sikvah could.
Some of that power was the sheer volume that Rojer’s trio could produce with their hora magic, but Rojer could hear in the other Jongleurs’ music that however loud it might grow, a demon would recover instantly the moment the sound stopped. Only Kendall seemed to have anything approaching the knack, and even she still had a long way to go.
Hary closed a fist and the players stopped in perfect sync, then fell into disarray. Some began talking to their fellows, or tuning instruments, or packing them in cases. Hary came over to where Rojer was standing. ‘Sound great, don’t they?’
Rojer nodded. ‘Good enough for less than two weeks’ practice. Just pray it’s enough.’
Hary grunted. ‘Word of advice, if you want to be a teacher, Rojer. A pat on the back encourages more than a frowning nod.’
Not according to Arrick, Rojer thought, but he put a smile on his face and waved at the players as they rested. ‘Well done, all! Have a stretch. It’s going to be a long night.’
He turned back to Hary. ‘Sorry. Everyone is on edge today.’
‘Is this “Waning” really so bad?’ Hary asked. ‘Been through many a new moon without thinking twice. Even spent a couple on the road, back when I was making my name in the hamlets.’
Rojer shrugged. ‘Might be a big production for an empty house,’ he admitted. ‘Night, I hope so. But if what Leesha and the Painted Man say is true and those smart demons they killed have family that’s going to come looking for them tonight, we’re going to need every bit of help we can get.’ He tugged at the hood of his warded cloak. Leesha had stitched mind wards into the hem, but he had drawn one on his forehead with Jongleur’s paint regardless, and the other Jongleurs had followed suit.
‘This song of yours is that and more,’ Hary assured. ‘You act disappointed because we’re not shattering rock demons with it, but already we can protect ourselves and others, not to mention give the fighters a winning edge.’
Rojer shook his head, though the smile for the players’ benefit never left his face. ‘An edge perhaps, but not a winning one. No music is going to keep the demons fazed once someone hits one of them with an axe.’
‘Still,’ Hary said, ‘can’t believe you just gave the song out for nothing.’
‘What was I supposed to do?’ Rojer asked. ‘Hold it ransom while my friends die?’
Hary shook his head. ‘Of course not. But the count offered you a job as herald, and that’s no small thing. Lot of men would kill for that offer.’
Men have, Rojer thought, glancing at Hary. The Jongleurs in Angiers knew how to mind their manners when Royals were about, and were happy to take commissions when offered, but talk in the guild hall was seldom loyal to the ivy throne. Rhinebeck was generally reviled for his laws and taxes. ‘Being royal herald didn’t work out too well for my master, if you recall.’
‘It wasn’t Arrick that kept the duke from getting his pecker wet by sleeping in the bed of his favourite doxy,’ Hary reminded. ‘That’s apt to put a fire in any man, much less a Royal. You’re lucky you didn’t get the sticking meant for her.’
Rojer kept his mask in place. He wasn’t surprised Hary knew the details of Arrick’s fall from grace. Jongleurs were notorious gossips, especially when it came to one another.
‘You could have haggled like your man Gared, even if you didn’t want the herald job,’ Hary went on. ‘He got a barony just by asking. A barony! Duchy is on the rise, boy, you mark my words. And Hollow County’s going to be its centre. Don’t want to be late to the casting call.’
‘Ay,’ Rojer said, ‘but what’s Angiers ever done for me? Rhinebeck had one swelling go to waste, and threw my master away like garbage. Left us a performance away from starving on the street. Who’s to say he or this new count won’t do the same to Gared, or me, when the fighting’s done?’
‘Got no more love of the duke than you,’ Hary said, ‘but you’re young, and maybe you didn’t know your master as well as you’d like to think. I knew him long before you were born, and Arrick Sweetsong was never a man to care a whit for anyone other than himself. The drink made him sloppy, and his pride in his position made him quick to turn up his nose at anyone who had nothing to offer. Duke was looking for an excuse to break his contract long before you got caught in the brothel.’
Rojer opened his mouth, ready to angrily defend his master, but the words caught in his throat. He knew Arrick’s failings well.
‘To be honest,’ Hary said, ‘none of us could ever understand why he kept taking care of you.’
Rojer chuckled. ‘It wasn’t all dancing and song when the crowd broke.’
Hary nodded. ‘Ay, I’m sure he was a right coreling when he was in his cups, but he stood by you, even when it would have been better for his career to let you go. Remember when Tom Fiddle offered to take you on?’
‘Arrick broke his nose,’ Rojer said. He shook his head. ‘Didn’t want to go with Tom, anyway. Says he searches his apprentices’ pockets to make sure they’re not hiding klats, but everyone knows he’s just going for a grope.’
Hary nodded again. ‘Ay, but Tom had connections. That punch cost Arrick a lot of work. Like the one you gave Jasin Goldentone when he laughed that your master was dead.’
‘You heard about that?’ Rojer asked, his mask slipping in his shock.
Hary laughed. ‘Hear? Boy, it was the talk of the guild hall for months! You might not be Arrick’s blood, but in some ways you’re the spitting image.’
‘Don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or an insult,’ Rojer said. Punching Jasin had got his guild sponsor, Master Jaycob, killed, and had left Rojer in Leesha’s hospit, beaten till he could taste death’s breath on his lips. She had pulled him back, but at the time, and several times since, he wished she had just let him go.
Hary shrugged. ‘Not sure how I meant it.’ He winked. ‘If he was in your motley right now, Arrick would be pushing for his own county.’
‘Why settle?’ Rojer asked. ‘I’m married to the daughter of the demon of the desert, and best friends with the ripping Deliverer. My firstborn should be king.’
Hary stared at him for a moment, trying to determine if he was serious. At last, he began to laugh, and Rojer joined him. It felt good to laugh in the face of death, and both men gave it free rein, howling till their sides hurt.
When it was over, Rojer sighed. ‘Let’s focus on keeping everyone alive for the next few nights. If we can do that, there’s twenty-seven more days to worry about how the Royals should reward me.’
Renna watched as Arlen moved for the Jongleurs’ sound shell. It had been days since he had slept, but he stubbornly refused her attempts to convince him of the necessity. Even today, when he needed to be at his best.
‘Ent resting while there’s work to be done,’ he told her, and she knew from his tone that he had his back up. Arlen Bales could set his heels as deep as any mule.
But there had been work aplenty, and now, with barely an hour to dusk and thanks in no small part to him, it was all done – or as done as it was going to be. The net of greatwards was weak in places, but it was active and linked, each ward distributing power to the others. No coreling, even a mind demon, could set foot in Hollow County, or fly less than a mile above it.
A hush went through the crowd as Arlen took centre stage. It wasn’t everyone in Hollow County – most were already at their posts, protecting workers who would be piling fortifications to strengthen the weaker sections of the greatwards right up to sunset and beyond. But the leaders were all there, waiting on Arlen’s final words.
Cutters, seasoned and raw, stood at attention. Most were the thick-armed men that grew so abundantly in the Hollow, but there were many with features that spoke of faraway places. There were also hundreds of women, many clad in tapered pantaloons and vests similar to the one Wonda wore beneath her armour. Most carried bows and stroked the fletching of their warded arrows the way they might caress a lover. All wore bandannas painted with mind wards.
Backs straight, the Wooden Soldiers sat mounted on sleek coursers. Their long spears had been fitted with special grips to allow them to be used as lances. Shorter stabbing spears hung from harnesses in easy reach. Count Thamos, resplendent in his enamelled armour, towered over them atop his heavy destrier, its barding warded glass over fitted wood.
Kaval’s Sharum, armed once more with spear and shield, stood in a neat square. Renna watched them, half expecting trouble, but they seemed the most disciplined of all.
A knot of Herb Gatherers, marked by their pocketed aprons, surrounded Leesha to one side, and the Jongleurs stood by Rojer and Hary Roller to the other. Even Inquisitor Hayes and his acolytes waited in silence to hear his words.
‘We done good work this month, getting ready for the demons.’ Even without magic, Arlen’s voice carried far and clear. There was clapping and cheering, and Arlen waited for it to die down before going on, his face grim. ‘But I ent gonna lie to you folk. Demons know we’re getting strong, and they’re going to rise in numbers like you never dreamed tonight, determined to stomp us back down into the mud. Worse, they’re gonna fight smart – attack where we’re weakest and they can do the most damage. All of you,’ he looked pointedly at the Krasians, ‘are gonna see fightin’ tonight like you never saw before.’ His eyes scanned the crowd, seeming to meet everyone at once. ‘And you can’t count on me to save you tonight.’
There was a murmur of shock at that, and Arlen let it sink in a moment before going on. ‘We can kill all the demons we want, but so long as their minds are out there, it’s slappin’ at raindrops. I’m huntin’ mind demons tonight, and ent always gonna have time for the little fights.’
His voice hardened, and his eyes flashed with intensity. ‘But if there’s anyone in all the world I trust can take care of themselves, it’s the folk of Hollow County. Can I count on you to do that?’
The crowd erupted in a roar, holding aloft their weapons.
‘Ent gonna let you down!’
‘Don’t you worry about us, we’ll still be cuttin’ wood demon when you get back!’
Arlen held up a fist, and they fell silent again, though the energy was thick in the air. ‘Had the honour of standing with a lot of you in this very place, shedding blood and more than our share of coreling ichor right on the cobbles beneath your feet. Lost some good people, and still more came out with wounds they carry to this day. But we gave better’n we got, beat those demons down and watched them burn when the sun rose.’ He looked back to the Krasians. ‘In Krasia, that makes this sacred ground, and it makes us all family.’
There were nods and grunts of agreement from the crowd, though none dared speak, hanging on Arlen’s words. ‘For more than three hundred years, we been waiting for a Deliverer to come and save us from the demons. And while we waited, we forgot that we, each and every one of us, was strong. Strong enough that together, ent nothing can stop us. But the Deliverers of old didn’t do it alone. They get the credit, ay, but they wouldn’t have had a chance without the thousands, nay, millions, of good folk like you at their sides.
‘So you stand up for you and yours tonight. You stand proud, and come Waxing, when Hollow County’s still standing tall, someone asks who the Deliverer is? You can give honest word when you say “Ay, that’s me.”’
The crowd cheered again, shouting, ‘Deliverers!’ again and again. The Krasians did not join the chant, but they clattered their spears against their shields to add to the cacophony, and seemed mollified by the words – a careful dance that avoided any claims that Arlen was the Deliverer, or that Jardir was not. Now was not the time for division.
Arlen let the energy flow through the crowd, driving away their fears, then held up his hands, patting the air until there was silence once more. ‘Don’t know where the attacks will come. The outer boroughs, I expect, but it’s hard to say. That’s why we’re staging here. Cutter’s Hollow is the centre of the net, and we’ll be able to move swift to support the folk that need it. Demons will be on the rise soon, but the minds won’t come till later, when the dark is long and full. For now, keep your weapons ready and look to your commanders. Be ready for a run.’
With that, he hopped lightly down from the stage to join Renna.
‘Hunting mind demons?’ Renna asked.
&nb
sp; ‘Much as I can,’ Arlen said. ‘Same goes for you as the Cutters, Ren. Can’t hold back tonight. Ent leaving you behind ’cause I think you ent got what it takes, but come night I’m gonna have to go where I’m needed, and fast. Maybe faster’n you can keep up.’
The words grated on Renna, a reminder of the warning Arlen had given her when they first left Tibbet’s Brook. You either keep up, or I’m dropping you at the next town we come to. Harsh words, but Renna had worked hard and sacrificed much to keep pace. It still wasn’t enough. Arlen could dematerialize and slip into the greatward, travelling to anywhere in Hollow County in the time it took to take a deep breath and let it out again.
‘Could if you’d teach me the trick,’ Renna said.
Arlen shook his head. ‘This ent like embracing pain or knowing how to twist a demon into a throw. Took me years of absorbing magic and eatin’ demon meat before I could even dissipate, and months from there to learn to do it at will and pull myself back together. And that’s just learning to tread water. This is swimming in current so strong it can sweep you along like a twig.’
Renna frowned. ‘Can’t say I like the sound of that.’
Arlen shrugged and smiled. ‘Can’t say I do, either. But I’ll do what needs to be done to keep the Hollow safe. Need to know you will, too. Cutters are strong, but with me out of the picture, you’re the strongest one in the Hollow. Without you to shore the line, they may break. No running off on your own tonight. They need you.’
‘Think I don’t know that?’ Renna snapped. ‘Hollowers been good to me. Good in ways I never knew folk could be. Die before I let ’em down.’
Arlen touched her face. ‘That’s the woman I promised. Just,’ he kissed her, ‘don’t forget to breathe.’
She stuck a finger in his chest. ‘And you don’t forget that you belong up here,’ she pointed to the cobbles, ‘and not down there taking on every demon in the world. You leave us, I’m coming down after you and dragging you back by the stones.’ She reached between his legs and squeezed tight for emphasis. Arlen let out a sound that was half squeak and half laughter.
The Daylight War Page 58