The Desert Spear (demon)

by Peter V. Brett

  “Cobie may have been weak in the flesh,” Tender Harral told her, recalling the scene after Fernan Boggin’s funeral, “but he was honest in wanting to marry Renna, I saw it plain on his face. Hers, too. It was Harl that had murder in his eyes at the thought.”

  “My Lucik got in a fight with two Fishers last night,” Meada Boggin told her later. “They said Renna planned to kill her da all along, and tried to trick Cobie into doing it for her. Lucik punched one on the nose, and they broke his arm.”

  “Lucik punched one?” Selia asked.

  “My boy lived with Renna Tanner nigh fourteen years,” Meada said, “and if he says she ent a killer, that’s enough for me.”

  “You’ll speak for Boggin’s Hill, now that Fernan’s gone?” Selia asked.

  Meada nodded. “Hill voted yesterday.”

  Coline Trigg came next. “Keep asking myself,” the Herb Gatherer said, “why was poor Cobie stabbed twixt the legs? Must’ve been her done it; no man’d do that to another man. Expect she wasn’t as willing as folk say when Cobie visited. Reckon he forced himself on her, and she went to kill him for it. When her father tried to stop her, she must’ve killed him, too.”

  In the afternoon, Jeph arrived with Ilain and Beni. He kept close to the women, interposing himself between Beni and Rik Fisher as they glared at each other.

  “How’s Lucik?” Selia asked Beni as they came inside.

  Beni sighed. “Coline says the splint comes off in a couple months, but it puts us in a bad place, we want to fill Hog’s ale orders. Worried for my boys, too, this feud goes on much longer.”

  Selia nodded. “Best keep your boys close to hand. Raddock’s stirred the Fishers into a fine frenzy, and they reckon they’re owed blood. Might be they’re not picky about where they get it. Meantime, I’ll see if I can find any idle hands around town to throw in at the brewery.”

  “Thank you, Speaker,” Beni said.

  Selia gave all three a hard look. “We all have to do our part, when times try us.” She turned and led them to the spinning room. Renna sat in a chair, staring at the wall.

  “She been eating?” Ilain asked, worry in her voice.

  Selia nodded. “She ’ll swallow what you put in her mouth, and use the privy if you lead her to it. Even worked the pedal on my spinning wheel last night. Just her will that’s gone.”

  “She was like that for me, too,” Ilain agreed. Beni looked at Renna and started to cry.

  “Would you mind leaving us a spell, Speaker?” Jeph asked.

  “Course not,” Selia said, leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

  Jeph hung back, giving Ilain and Beni distance as they went to their sister. They spoke in hushed tones, but Jeph could hear a mole digging his fields at thirty yards, and he caught every word.

  “She done it,” Beni said. “Never believe she hurt Cobie Fisher, but she was scared to death of what Da might do if they was alone. Begged me to take her away with us…” She sobbed again, and Ilain joined her. They held each other until it passed.

  “Oh, Ren,” Ilain said, “why’d you have to go and kill him? I always just took it quiet.”

  “You never took nothin’ quiet,” Beni snapped. “You took it like I did, hiding behind the first man I saw. And we both got away with it, because we left Da another plum.”

  Ilain turned to her, horror in her eyes. “Din’t reckon he ’d turn to you,” she said, reaching out. “Thought you were too young.”

  Beni slapped her hand away. “You knew,” she spat. “I already had paps bigger than most goodwives, and was old enough to promise. You knew, and you left anyway, ’cause you were thinkin’ more of yourself than your kin.”

  “You din’t do the same?” Ilain accused. “If that ent the night callin’ things dark, dunno what is!”

  They went at each other, but Jeph crossed the floor in an instant, pulling them apart by the necks of their dresses. “There ’ll be none of that!” he said, holding them out at arm’s length and glaring at them until they dropped their eyes. When he let go, the fight was out of them.

  “Maybe it’s time to air this all before the council,” he said, making both women look up at him sharply. “Tell ’em the kinda man Harl was,” he thrust his chin at Renna, “and maybe they won’t blame her for what she done.”

  Ilain slumped into the seat next to Renna, digesting the thought, but Beni glared at him. “You expect me to stand before the likes of Raddock Lawry and Lucik’s mam and say my da liked to treat his daughters like wives?” she demanded. “You expect I’ll trust that tale to the tavern keeper and that old gossip Coline Trigg? Night, how’ll I look my own husband in the eye after that, much less hold my head up in town? How could any of us? Worse ’n what happened, everyone knowin’ what happened!”

  “Worse than seein’ your sister staked?” Jeph asked.

  “Even if it wern’t,” Beni said, “ent no proof it would change one mind on the council, and might be it gets three sisters staked, steada just one.”

  Jeph looked to Ilain, sitting very quiet as the image Beni painted danced before her eyes. “I think everyone knowing might be worse,” she said softly, her voice cracking into a sob with the last word. Jeph rushed to her, going to one knee to hold her as she cried.

  “You best keep your mouth shut on this, too, Jeph Bales,” Beni said.

  Jeph looked at his weeping wife, and nodded. “Not my place to make that decision for you two. I’ll hold my peace.”

  Ilain looked at Renna and moaned, her face screwing up further. “I’m sorry!” she sobbed, and hurried out of the room.

  “Are you all right, dear?” Selia asked Ilain as she stumbled out of the spinning room.

  “Hate seein’ her like that,” Ilain mumbled.

  Selia nodded, but she wasn’t satisfied. “Sit.” She pointed to a chair in her common room. “I’ll make tea.”

  “Thank you, Speaker,” Ilain said, “but we have business—”

  “Sit,” Selia said again, this time it was less an offer than a command, and Ilain complied instantly at the change in tone. “All of you,” Selia added, as Beni and Jeph caught up.

  “Town council meets tomorrow,” Selia said when the tea was served. “Early, most like. If Renna ent talking by then, and I don’t ’spect she will be, Raddock’s going to demand a ruling without her words, and with so much evidence against her and nothing for, reckon he ’ll have his way. I’ll try and delay till she’s better, but that will be up to the council.”

  “What’ll they rule, you reckon?” Jeph asked.

  Selia blew out a breath. “Can’t say for sure. This ent ever happened before. But the Fishers are in arms, and it’s one more reason for Marshes and Watches to preach keeping their young’uns away from Town Square and its temptations. The Tender and Meada won’t turn on the girl, but there’s no telling what the rest will do. Expect she ’ll be strung from the nearest tree, with Garric hauling the rope.”

  Ilain gave a little cry.

  “This ent no small crime, girl,” Selia said. “We got two men dead, and one with angry kin. I’ll argue in moot until I’m blue-faced, but the law is the law. Once the council votes, there ent no choice but to hold peace and abide.”

  She looked at Beni and Ilain. “So if there’s anything—anything—you can tell me that’ll help me when I am fighting for that girl, I need to hear it now.”

  The sisters both glanced at Jeph, but neither said a word.

  Selia huffed. “Jeph, Mack Pasture speaks for the farms in council. Go visit him; see if you can get an idea how he’ll vote. Make sure he’s got the story straight, and not whatever tampweed tale Raddock is spinning.”

  “Mack’s farm is a long way,” Jeph said. “It’ll take the rest of the day just to get there.”

  “Then succor there, and use the time wisely,” Selia said, the tone of command returning to her voice. She nodded to the door. “Now, dear. I’ll see Ilain and Beni get home safe.”

  Jeph glanced nervously at Ilain, then
nodded. “Yes’m,” he said, and headed out the door.

  Selia turned back to the sisters but kept her eyes down. “Always wondered about your da,” she said, selecting a butter cookie from the crock on the table. “Learned to watch a man after corelings take his wife. Sometimes they…crack a bit. Start acting irrational. I asked folk to watch Harl, but your da liked to keep to himself, and all seemed well those first years.” She dipped the cookie in her tea, eyes still on her hands.

  “But then, Ilain, when you ran off with Jeph, though his lost wife wasn’t even burned yet, I wondered again. What were you running from? And the Harl I knew would have fetched some men and come and dragged you home, kicking and screaming. I had half a mind to do it myself.” She ate the moist cookie with quick, neat bites, and wiped her mouth delicately with a napkin. Ilain just stared at her, mouth open.

  “But he didn’t,” Selia said, setting down the napkin and meeting Ilain’s eyes. “Why?” Ilain recoiled from the force of Selia’s gaze, but she dropped her eyes and shook her head.

  “Dunno,” she said.

  Selia frowned, selecting another cookie. “And there was all the suitors that went to court Renna.” She dropped her eyes again. “She ’s a pretty enough girl, fit as a horse, with two elder sisters shown to give strong sons. Harl could’ve made a good match for her after Arlen Bales ran off. Could’ve had another man to help about the farm; even taken a widow to wed himself. But again, he didn’t. He drove them boys off time and again, sometimes at the end of a pitchfork, till your sister’s best breeding years were all but gone. By then, Cobie Fisher was as good a match as she could hope for, and the farm in desperate need of a strong back, but still he refused.”

  Selia looked up at both of them. “I wonder what would make a man behave like that, and have my guesses, but what do I know? Saw your da maybe once or twice a year. You two lived with him every day. Reckon you know better than me. Anything to add to the slate?”

  Ilain and Beni looked at her, and then at each other, and then at their hands. “No,” they mumbled together.

  “Ent no one seen either of you shed a tear over your da,” Selia pressed. “That ent natural, when a girl’s father takes a knife in the back.” Ilain and Beni didn’t even lift their eyes.

  Selia looked at them a moment, and then sighed deeply.

  “Off with you, then!” she snapped at last. “Out of my house, before I take a cane to both your backsides! And Creator forbid you selfish little brats ever need someone to stand for you!”

  The two sisters scurried out of the house, and Selia put her head in her hands, feeling her age as never before.

  Selia had barely dressed the next morning before she found Raddock Lawry in her yard with Cobie’s parents, Garric and Nomi, and close to a hundred folk from Fishing Hole, which was just about everyone.

  “Are your words so feeble, Raddock Lawry, that you need all your kith and kin to back them?” she asked, coming out on her porch.

  There was a murmur of shock through the crowd, and they turned as one to Raddock for their cue. Raddock opened his mouth to reply, but Selia cut him off.

  “I will not call the town council to order in front of a mob!” she shouted, her voice making grown men cringe. “You voted yourselves a Speaker for a reason, and apart from those making accusations, you will disperse, or I’ll put the meeting off until you do, even if you have to wait out the winter right on my doorstep!”

  A sudden buzz of confusion started in the crowd, drowning out Raddock’s reply. After a moment, they began to trickle away, some heading back up toward the Hole but most heading down the road to the Square and the general store to await the verdict. Selia didn’t like that, but there was little she could do once they left her property.

  Raddock scowled at her, but Selia only smiled primly, putting Nomi to work helping serve tea on the porch.

  Coline Trigg was the next to arrive, having heard the commotion from her house down the road. Her apprentices, who were also her daughters, took over the tea at once while the three council members awaited the others.

  There were ten seats on the council. Each borough of Tibbet’s Brook held a vote each year, electing one of its own to the council, to sit with the Tender and Herb Gatherer. In addition, they cast a general vote for the Town Speaker. Selia held the head seat most years, and spoke for Town Square when she didn’t.

  The council seats usually went to the oldest and wisest person in each borough and were rare to change from year to year, unless someone died. Fernan Boggin had held the seat for Boggin’s Hill almost ten years, and it was only natural for it to fall to his widow.

  Meada Boggin was next to arrive, escorted by at least fifty from Boggin’s Hill who dispersed into the Square. She came up the walk with Lucik, his arm in a sling, and Beni, her shoulders covered in a black shawl to mark the death of her father. With them came Tender Harral and two of his acolytes.

  “Parading your injured young’uns around ent gonna get you sympathy,” Raddock warned Meada as she took tea and sat.

  “Parading,” Meada said, amused. “This from the man who’s ridden from one end of town to the other, waving a bloody dress like a flag.”

  Raddock scowled, but his response was cut off as Brine Cutter, also known as Brine Broadshoulders, stomped up the walk. “Ay, my friends!” Brine boomed as he ducked to avoid hitting his head on the porch roof. He embraced the women warmly, and squeezed the hands of the men until they ached.

  A survivor of the Cluster Massacre, Brine had spent weeks in a fugue state similar to Renna’s, yet now he stood tall as Speaker for the Cluster by the Woods. A widower almost fifteen years, Brine had never remarried, no matter how often pressed, saying it wouldn’t be right to his lost wife and children. Folk said loyalty was rooted in him as the trees he cut were rooted in the ground.

  An hour later, Coran Marsh came slowly up the walk, leaning heavily on his cane. At eighty summers, he was one of the oldest people in the Brook, and he was given every courtesy as his son Keven and grandson Fil helped him up the stairs. All of them came barefoot, as Marshes were wont to do. Toothless and shaky as he was, Coran’s dark eyes were still sharp as he nodded to the other speakers.

  Next to arrive was Mack Pasture, at the head of quite a few other farmers, including Jeph Bales. Jeph leaned in to Selia as they came onto the porch.

  “Mack’s come with no prejudice against Renna,” he whispered, “and promised me to judge fair, no matter what the Fishers shout.” Selia nodded, and Jeph went to stand with Ilain, Beni, and Lucik on the opposite side of the porch from Garric and Nomi Fisher.

  As the morning wore on, a general buzz grew in the air, and it became clear that more than just Fishing Hole was out in force. Hundreds of folk walked the streets, trying to seem nonchalant as they glanced toward Selia’s porch on their way to the tailor, or the cobbler, or any of the other shops about the Square.

  Last to arrive were the Watches. Southwatch was the farthest borough, practically a town unto itself, with near three hundred inhabitants and their own Herb Gatherer and Holy House.

  They came in neat procession, marked by their stark clothing. Watch men were all thickly bearded and wore black pants with black suspenders over a white shirt. A heavy black jacket, hat, and boots finished the outfit, even in the harsh heat of summer. The women all wore black dresses reaching from ankle to chin to wrist, as well as white aprons and bonnets, with white gloves and parasol when not working. Their heads were bowed, and they all drew wards in the air, over and over, to protect them from sin.

  At their head was Jeorje Watch. Speaker and Tender both, Jeorje was the oldest man in Tibbet’s Brook by two decades. There were children running around the Brook who hadn’t been born when he celebrated his hundredth birthday. Still, his back was straight as he led the procession, his stride firm and his eyes hard. He stood in stark contrast with Coran Marsh, a quarter century his junior and ravaged by time.

  With his years and his solid bloc of votes from the largest borou
gh, Jeorje should have been Town Speaker, but he never got a single vote outside Southwatch, and he never would, not even from Tender Harral. Jeorje Watch was too strict.

  Selia rose as tall as she was able, and that was very tall, as she went to greet him.

  “Speaker,” Jeorje said, biting back his displeasure at having to give that title to a woman, and an unmarried one at that.

  “Tender,” Selia said, refusing to be intimidated. They bowed respectfully to each other.

  Jeorje’s wives, some old and proud like him, others younger, including one great with child, flowed around them wordlessly and went into the house. They were heading for the kitchen, Selia knew. Watches always took over the kitchen, to ensure that their special eating needs were attended to. They kept to a strict diet of plain foods with no seasoning or sugar.

  Selia signaled Jeph. “Go and pull Rusco from the store,” she told him, and Jeph ran off.

  Selia was always elected Speaker for Town Square, but on years when she was also elected Town Speaker, she appointed Rusco Hog to speak for the Square, so that it would keep an independent voice, as prescribed in town law. Few people were pleased by this, but Selia knew the general store was the heart of the Square, and when one prospered, the other most often would, as well.

  “Well come in, and let’s have supper,” Selia said when they’d had their ease a bit. “We’ll handle standing council business over coffee, and then on to this last affair when the cups are cleared.”

  “If it’s all the same, Speaker,” Raddock Lawry said, “I’d just as soon dispense supper and the rest till the next council meeting and get on to the business of my dead kin.”

  “It is not all the same, Raddock Fisher,” Jeorje Watch said, thumping his polished black walking stick. “We can’t just take leave of our customs and civility because someone died. This is the time of Plague, when death comes often. Creator punishes those what sin in his own time. The Tanner girl will have her judgment when the Brook’s standing business is done.”

  He spoke with the authority of one who is never questioned, though Selia was Speaker. She accepted the slight—a common one from Jeorje—because he argued to her favor. The later the hour grew, the less likely Renna’s sentence, if death, would take place that very night.