Barren

by Peter V. Brett

  “Ent gonna have another chance, Selia,” Anjy said. “Grandfather drags me back to Southwatch, don’t think I’ll get away so easy again.”

  “Da’s Town Speaker,” Selia said. “He can call a meeting. Sallie Trigg’s a witness, and Bil Square. Town council can’t ignore it. Whatever the Canon says about square girls, it’s worse on men who raise hands to women.”

  “Won’t matter,” Anjy said, but she did not pull away again.

  “Just give it a chance,” Selia begged. “For me. For us.”

  Anjy was silent, but she tugged on Selia’s hand, pulling her close. Selia followed the sound of her breathing, careful of her broken nose as she laid a gentle kiss on Anjy’s lips.

  * * *

  Edwar was already out of the house when Selia woke. Lory had breakfast on and gave her a tray to take to Anjy.

  “Speaker!” A voice boomed in the front yard. “Come for my granddaughter! Know you’ve got her!”

  Selia stole a look from the window, careful not to be seen. Jeorje Watch was standing before a crowd of spear-wielding Watchmen. Night. How had he gotten here so quickly? Southwatch was miles away.

  “Get away from the window,” Lory said. Selia turned to see her mother pulling the spear off the mantelpiece. “Bar the door behind me, girl. Bar all the doors.” Lory exited onto the porch, pulling the door shut behind her.

  Selia did as she was told, barring the door, though she doubted it would do much good. Men willing to force their way past her mother wouldn’t be hindered by a couple inches of wood.

  She glanced at the rear entrance, then at the door to Anjy’s room. Did Jeorje have men watching the back? If not, perhaps there was still time . . .

  “Lot of men, to fetch one beat-up young woman!” Lory cried.

  Selia put her back to the wall beside the window, looking out at an angle. It was a ludicrous sight—the town schoolmam holding off a crowd of armed Watchmen with her husband’s old Messenger spear—but the determined look on Lory’s face made Selia wonder if she just might do it.

  “Ent your business, Lory Square!” Jeorje shouted back. “Stand aside!”

  “Whole town’s business when a man raises his hand to his wife,” Lory replied. “Girl came to the Speaker’s house for succor, and we’ve granted it.”

  Jeorje spread his hands, approaching. “We’re her family, not corelings, and we both know that’s not why Anjy chose your house.”

  Lory lifted the spear. “That’s far enough, Jeorje.”

  Jeorje smiled, continuing to step forward. “Give me my granddaughter, and we’ll be off your property and on our way. You can’t stop us.”

  “Perhaps not, but we can!” Edwar’s voice carried across the yard. Selia dared to step in front of the window, breathing a sigh of relief as she saw her father approaching with what looked like half the men in town. Big burly Cutters with axe mattocks across their shoulders, Baleses and Pastures with picks and hoes, Boggins with cooper’s hammers, and Squares with an assortment of tools and hunting spears.

  They outnumbered the Watches, but not by so much that Jeorje couldn’t cause trouble. He turned to face Edwar, leaving Lory forgotten at his back. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Edwar cut him off.

  “Obi Watch!” Edwar pointed to a middle-aged man, thick about the middle, with a round face and a beard shot through with gray. “You are accused of beating your wife! How do you plead?”

  Obi’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened. “Don’t owe you explanations about what goes on in my home!”

  “Oh, but you think you’ve a right to break into mine?” Edwar shot back.

  “You’ve no proof I’ve done anything!” Obi sputtered.

  “We have Anjy as witness,” Edwar said.

  “Her word against mine.” Obi’s voice was gaining confidence. “No proof. Girl fell down the steps.”

  “You live in a ranch,” Edwar shot back. “Sallie Trigg examined her. Willing to bet, we measure your fist, it will fit her bruises.”

  Obi scowled, balling a fist and shaking it at Edwar. “Want my fist, Square, that can be arranged.”

  Edwar didn’t hesitate, stepping up until the two men were nose to nose. “Easy to hit a girl half your size. Got the stones to try it on me?” He smiled, sticking out his chin and closing his eyes. “Even let you throw the first punch. Swear by the sun I’ll throw the last.”

  “Enough.” Jeorje was on the defensive now, but seemed no less dangerous for it. He pulled back Obi, who looked much relieved. “Ent a trial, Speaker. Can’t expect—”

  “Ay, you’re right,” Edwar cut him off again. “Calling the town council to meet on the matter tomorrow. You and Obi can discuss his plea then.”

  Jeorje’s calm veneer began to crack, a hint of snarl on his face. “Doesn’t settle the matter of my granddaughter.”

  Edwar crossed his arms. “No, it doesn’t. But unless you want to try and cross my wards to take her, we’ll settle this first.”

  “Not with the girl staying in your house of sin,” Jeorje said. “It may be her leading your daughter astray, or the other way around, but I won’t have it.”

  There was some mumbling among the townsfolk on Edwar’s side at the words, and Jeorje smiled, sensing his advantage. “Haven’t told them the whole story, have you, Speaker?”

  “She can stay with me,” Sallie Trigg cut in, before Edwar could reply. “I’ve sickbeds, and need to tend her nose in any event. You can post guards if you like, though I hope it ent necessary.”

  Jeorje looked like he had just sucked a lemon dry, but he nodded. “Agreed. But she’s to be moved now, and I’ll see her with my own eyes.”

  Selia stood protectively in front of Anjy’s door as Sallie and the men came into the house to take her. The Watches remained outside save for Jeorje, whose eyes bored into Selia. “Stand aside, girl.”

  Selia bunched a fist, but Edwar stepped between them and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Trust me. Ent gonna let anything happen to her. We’ll make this right.”

  Selia let out a breath, allowing her father to pull her aside, but when he tried the latch, the door was barred.

  “Anjy!” He knocked loudly on the door. “It’s Edwar. Ent no one going to hurt you, girl. Just taking you to the Triggs’ to be looked after while the council sorts this out.”

  There was no reply, and Edwar knocked again. “Ent the time for games! You’re under my roof. This door ent open at the count of ten, I’ll break it down!”

  “Da—” Selia began, but Edwar cut her off with a raised hand, beginning to count.

  Still there was no response. Edwar pounded one last time. “Once Sallie says you’re better, you’ll be staying in town till you work off the cost of a new door!” Then he gave the door a kick.

  The heavy wood shuddered but did not break. Banded with iron and cut with polished wards, it was meant to be a last defense if corelings made it into the house.

  Edwar did not relent. When her father set himself to a task, Selia knew there was nothing to do but stand aside and let him see it done. Again and again he kicked and threw his shoulder against the door. Jeorje joined him, and together they broke the bar at last, tumbling into the room atop the splintering door.

  But the bed was empty, window open, curtains wafting softly in the breeze.

  Anjy was gone.

  * * *

  “Where is she?!” Jeorje grabbed Selia’s arm. She swung a fist at him, but he swatted it aside, tightening his painful grip.

  Jeorje lost his wide-brimmed hat as Edwar’s right cross slammed his head into a support beam, but he kept his feet. He shook away the effects of the blow and came at Edwar with his guard in place, but whatever passed for fisticuffs in Southwatch was no match for a Milnese Messenger’s training. Edwar caught Jeorje’s blows on his arms and laid him on his back with an uppercut that nearly made the Southwatch Speaker bite off his tongue.

  “Lay hands on my daughter again, you’ll be spending months on one of Sallie Trigg’s si
ckbeds,” Edwar warned.

  Jeorje growled, but he spread his hands as he got to his feet. “Ay, Speaker. You’re her father. You handle it. But if my granddaughter isn’t in safe succor by nightfall, we’ll be holding your family to account.”

  Edwar turned to Selia. “Any idea where she might have gone?”

  “Where can she go,” Selia said, “when her husband beats her with her grandfather cheering him on? When the Town Speaker’s house ent safe succor?”

  “Ent an answer, girl,” Jeorje said.

  Selia screwed her face into a look of vapid anxiety, squeezing out tears that came surprisingly easily. She waited as long as she dared, giving Anjy time to run before blurting out an answer they were apt to believe. “Said last night, we didn’t take her, she’d go to the Holy House. Ask Tender Stewert for succor.”

  Jeorje grunted and turned, heading for the door. Edwar and the others quickly followed.

  “You all right?” Lory put a hand on her shoulder. “Let me make you a cup of tea and we can—”

  Selia pulled away. “Just want to be alone.”

  Lory pursed her lips, but she nodded, putting the spear back on the mantel. “All right. Be in the kitchen, you change your mind.”

  The moment she left, Selia took the spear and headed to the stable.

  * * *

  Selia walked the horse quietly out the back way, then swung into a saddle and kicked off once she was far enough from the house. Her own shield lost, she had taken her father’s, as well as his portable ward circle and some hasty supplies from the cold room.

  She rode north, then cut overland, trying to guess what path a young woman on foot, trying to avoid being seen, might take. By midmorning she realized she’d gone farther than Anjy could have run and doubled back, trying another route. That, too, was a failure. Afternoon came, bringing with it a growing sense of dread as the sun began its slow descent. Should she press on to the road and try to find the Messenger caravan, or double back a second time?

  There were a hundred ways Anjy could have taken, including several not suited to a rider on horseback. Selia pressed on instead, finding the road to Sunny Pasture and the Messenger caravan soon after.

  “Selia!” Jahn cried as she rode up to them. “What in the dark of night are you doing all the way out here?”

  “Looking for Anjy Watch.” Selia swung down from her saddle, thighs aching. “Husband beat her, and she ran off. Said she was looking for you, hoping to steal away to the Free Cities.”

  “Corespawn it.” Jahn spat on the ground. “Ent seen her.”

  Selia glanced at the sun, dangerously low. “Said she might hide in your carts.”

  Jahn’s men searched the caravan, but there was no sign of Anjy. Selia put a foot back in her stirrup. “Need to find her.”

  Jahn put a hand on her shoulder. “Ent letting you . . .” the words died on his lips as Selia turned her glare his way, “. . . go alone.”

  Selia kissed his cheek. “Knew I could count on you, Uncle Jahn.”

  Jahn sent men back the way they’d come while he and Selia rode up ahead, calling Anjy’s name and scanning the roadside for paths in the scrub.

  “Getting dark,” Jahn said at last. “We should head back.”

  “Not without Anjy,” Selia said.

  “Maybe the others found her,” Jahn suggested.

  “They’d have sounded their horns,” Selia said.

  Jahn did not argue. “Won’t help her by getting cored, Selia.”

  “Go back if you want,” Selia said. “Got Da’s portable circle. I’ll be all right.”

  Jahn barked a laugh. “You’re on tampweed, you think I’ll leave Edwar’s daughter alone in the dark, circle or no.”

  They searched a little longer, Selia screaming Anjy’s name until her throat was hoarse, all to no avail. At last, Jahn gripped her horse’s reins. “We don’t put our circles down now, we’re no good to anyone. If she comes running down the road at rising, at least we can offer succor.”

  Selia nodded, tightening her jaw to stay tears as she hobbled her horse and followed the lessons her father had drilled into her for laying the circle.

  Jahn built a fire, offering her a drink from his canteen and some dried meat. “Ent much, but you look like you haven’t had anything all day.”

  Selia took the canteen, drinking greedily as the sun slipped below the horizon and the rising began.

  At first there was no sign of corelings. Demons tended to cluster near human habitations, and here, on the road between towns, Selia and Jahn were some distance from even the most isolated farms. It wasn’t until she heard the shriek of a wind demon that Selia knew the corelings had come.

  There were other shrieks, corelings answering the windie’s call, or in pursuit of prey.

  But then, over the sounds of demons, came a cry much more familiar.

  “Selia . . . !” Jahn warned, but she ignored him, leaping to her feet and snatching up her father’s spear and shield. He scrambled to grab her ankle, but missed and fell face-first on the ground as Selia left the circle, running quietly up the road.

  * * *

  Selia turned from the road, trusting her ears as much as her eyes, barely able to spot the opening in the scrub in the moonlight. Every crunch of her feet filled her with dread. She might not be able to see in darkness, but the corelings could, and their senses were far stronger than hers. If they found her before she reached Anjy, she didn’t think much of her chances.

  Idiot girl, she thought. Ent got much chance you do find her, either.

  Still she ran on, following Anjy’s cries and the shrieks of corelings. The sounds were . . . frustrated, and when Selia caught a flash of magic ahead, she slowed, daring to hope.

  A wood demon was circling a tree, swiping at a forbidding in the form of painted wardplates laid around the trunk. Light flared each time the coreling struck, the wards glowing with residual power as it faded. Selia could see the wards were spread thin. They might be enough to hold one demon back, but . . .

  A low growl heralded the approach of a field demon, padding slowly around the scene, unnoticed by Anjy and the wood demon alike. Field demons were fast on open ground, but it stalked carefully amid the trees, watching the flare of wards, noting the gaps in their overlapping protection.

  Selia looked up, seeing Anjy cowering in the boughs. She was trying to keep quiet, but every time the woodie slammed one of its branchlike arms against the forbidding, she let out a cry as if she herself had been struck.

  Human cries are a Jongleur’s song to demons, Edwar taught. They’ll kill anything they can find, but it’s humans they hunger for.

  If Anjy didn’t quiet soon, it was only a matter of time before more were drawn to the commotion.

  The wood demon struck again, claws whining as they skittered across the magic. They caught fast on a seam where the plates didn’t quite overlap and, in the flare of wardlight, a thin gap appeared.

  It was all the field demon needed. It tamped down and pounced, closing the distance in two quick bounds. Its front legs and head made it through the opening, but the gap was too narrow to admit the demon’s shoulders and the coreling was caught fast.

  But not for long. Its talons hooked into the bark of the tree, gouging deep furrows and pulling itself through, inch by inch. Above, Anjy screamed, no doubt signaling their position to every Wanderer in the area.

  Selia knew she could wait no longer. She laid her course, then ducked her head and shoulders behind the rounded shield, charging in at the demons.

  Alone, Selia didn’t have the strength and weight to dislodge the field demon, but when she smashed into its flank, the wards around her father’s shield blazed to life, tearing the demon’s talons from the tree and knocking the coreling into the wood demon still clawing at the forbidding beside it. They were knocked sprawling and Selia stepped across the barrier to stand protectively in front of the tree, spear and shield at the ready.

  “Selia!” Anjy cried. “Creator be pr
aised! What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you, woodbrain,” Selia growled. “Had me running all over the Brook trying to find you. Now shut it. You’re drawing more of them.”

  Anjy slipped down from the branches to stand behind Selia, a heavy branch in her hands. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have come.”

  Selia spared a glance from the regrouping demons to look back at her. “Told you I’d follow you. Far as we need.”

  Anjy sobbed, kissing her cheek as Selia turned back to face the demons. With her foot, she nudged one of the wardplates in front of her. As expected, the field demon came in at the exact same spot, this time running face-first into a wall of magic. Selia punctuated this with a bash from her shield, knocking it back again.

  “Can’t keep this up all night,” she said.

  “What else can we do?” Anjy asked.

  “Got Messenger circles less than half a mile down the road,” Selia said. “We get the chance, we run. Quick and quiet as can be.”

  Anjy nodded, but the chance seemed increasingly unlikely as a second wood demon appeared. The three demons began circling the tree, smashing and clawing at the wards, sensing weakness just beyond their primitive brains’ ability to puzzle out. They could only search by sight and feel, dragging talons across the forbidding and looking for patches of dark amid the flaring wardlight.

  One of the wood demons stuck a limb into a gap, stubbornly swiping and clawing even as Selia stepped to the side and bashed at the limb with her shield. Woodies were larger and heavier than fieldies, and even the wards of her father’s great shield could not dislodge it.

  Anjy struck the arm with her branch until the flailing claws caught hold of it, flinging her hard against the trunk of the tree. She was smart enough to let go, falling to hands and knees right in front of the charging field demon. Wardlight rose to thwart the attack, but there was a gap and the demon stuck its snout through, rows of razor-sharp teeth snapping the air and spattering her with saliva.

  Selia stepped around the tree to come at them from the other side as the field demon scrunched and wriggled, working a limb through the gap to swipe at Anjy, who put her back to the tree. The wood demon appeared stuck, unable to penetrate farther or withdraw. It clawed at the tree, shaking free nuts, leaves, and dead branches that pattered down like rain.