The Demon Cycle Books 1-3 and Novellas: The Painted Man, The Desert Spear, The Daylight War plus The Great Bazaar and Brayan’s Gold and Messenger’s Legacy
Bruna spat on Smitt’s boots. ‘I told you this would happen,’ she said.
‘I know,’ Smitt said. ‘You were right. I should have listened. Please come back. I’ll do anything you ask.’
Bruna grunted. ‘I won’t make Ande pay for your stupidity,’ she said. ‘But I’ll hold you at your word, don’t you think for a second I won’t!’
‘Anything,’ Smitt promised again.
‘Erny!’ Bruna barked. ‘Fetch my herb cloth! Smitt here can carry it. You help your daughter along. We’re going to town.’
Leesha leaned on her father’s arm as they went. She was afraid she would slow them, but even in her weakened state she could keep pace with Bruna’s slow shuffle.
‘I should make you carry me on your back,’ Bruna grumped to Smitt as they went. ‘My old legs aren’t as fast as they once were.’
‘I’ll carry you, if you wish,’ Smitt said.
‘Don’t be an idiot,’ Bruna said.
Half the village was gathered outside the Holy House. There was a general sigh of relief as Bruna appeared, and whispers at the sight of Leesha, with her torn dress and bruises.
The crone ignored everyone, shoving people out of the way with her stick and going right inside. Leesha saw Gared and Steave lying on cots with damp cloth over their eyes, and swallowed a smirk. Bruna had explained that the pepper and stinkweed she dosed them with would do no permanent damage, but she hoped Darsy had not known enough to tell them that. Elona’s eyes shot daggers at her from their side.
Bruna went straight to Ande’s cot. He was bathed in sweat, and stank. His skin was yellowed, and the cloth wrapped around his loins was stained with blood, urine, and faeces. Bruna looked at him and spat. Darsy sat nearby. It was clear she had been crying.
‘Leesha, unroll the herbs,’ Bruna ordered. ‘We have work to do.’
Darsy rushed over, reaching to take the blanket from Leesha. ‘I can do that,’ she said. ‘You look about to collapse yourself.’
Leesha pulled the blanket away and shook her head. ‘It’s my place,’ she replied, untying the blanket and rolling it open to reveal the many pockets of herbs.
‘Leesha is my apprentice now!’ Bruna shouted for all to hear. She looked Elona in the eye as she went on. ‘Her promising to Gared is dissolved, and she will serve me for seven years and a day! Anyone with an ill word to say about that, or her, can heal their own sick!’
Elona opened her mouth, but Erny pointed straight at her. ‘Shut it!’ he barked. Elona’s eyes bulged, and she coughed as she swallowed her words. Erny nodded, and then moved over to Smitt. The two men went and spoke quietly in a corner.
Leesha lost track of time as she and Bruna worked. Darsy had accidentally cut into Ande’s intestine while trying to excise the demon rot, poisoning him with his own filth. Bruna cursed continually as she sought to undo the damage, sending Leesha scurrying to clean instruments, fetch herbs, and mix potions. She taught as she went, explaining Darsy’s errors and what she was doing to correct them, and Leesha listened attentively.
Finally, they had done all they could, and stitched the wound closed, wrapping it in clean bandages. Ande remained drugged into a deep slumber, but he seemed to be breathing easier, and his skin was closer to its normal tone.
‘Will he be all right?’ Smitt asked, as Leesha helped Bruna to her feet.
‘No thanks to you or Darsy,’ Bruna snapped. ‘But if he stays right where he is, and does exactly as he’s told, then this won’t be what kills him in the end.’
As they headed for the door, Bruna walked over to the cots where Gared and Steave lay. ‘Take those stupid bandages off your eyes, and quit your whining,’ she snapped.
Gared was the first to comply, squinting in the light. ‘I can see!’ he cried.
‘Of course you can see, you wood-brained idiot,’ Bruna said. ‘The town needs someone to move heavy things from place to place, and you can’t do that blind.’ She shook her stick at him. ‘But you cross me again, and blindness will be the least of your worries!’
Gared went pale, and nodded.
‘Good,’ Bruna said. ‘Now say true. Did you take Leesha’s flower?’
Gared looked around, frightened. Finally, his eyes dropped. ‘No,’ he said. ‘It was a lie.’
‘Speak up, boy,’ Bruna snapped. ‘I’m an old woman, and my ears aren’t what they used to be.’ Louder, so that everyone could hear, she asked, ‘Did you take Leesha’s flower?’
‘No!’ Gared called, his face flushing even redder than it had from the powder. Whispers spread like fire through the crowd at that.
Steave had removed his own bandage by then, and slapped his son hard on the back of the head. ‘There’s going to be the Core to pay when we get home,’ he growled.
‘Not my home,’ Erny said. Elona looked up at him sharply, but Erny ignored her, pointing his thumb at Smitt. ‘There’s a room for the two of you at the inn,’ he said.
‘The cost of which you will work off,’ Smitt added, ‘and you’ll be out in a month, even if all you’ve managed to build in that time is a lean-to.’
‘Ridiculous!’ Elona said. ‘They can’t work for their room and build a house in a month!’
‘I think you have your own worries,’ Smitt said.
‘What do you mean?’ Elona asked.
‘He means you have a decision to make,’ Erny said. ‘Either you learn to keep your marriage vows, or I have the Tender dissolve it and you join Steave and Gared in their lean-to.’
‘You can’t be serious,’ Elona said.
‘I’ve never been more,’ Erny replied.
‘The Core with him,’ Steave said. ‘Come with me.’
Elona looked at him sideways. ‘To live in a lean-to?’ she asked. ‘Not likely.’
‘Then you’d best head home,’ Erny said. ‘It’s going to take you a while to learn your way around the kitchen.’
Elona scowled, and Leesha knew her father’s struggle was just beginning, but her mother left as she was told, and that said much for his chances.
Erny kissed his daughter. ‘I’m proud of you,’ he said. ‘And I hope one day to make you proud of me, as well.’
‘Oh, Da,’ Leesha said, hugging him, ‘you have.’
‘Then you’ll come home?’ he asked hopefully.
Leesha looked back at Bruna, then back at him, and shook her head.
Erny nodded, and hugged her again. ‘I understand.’
318 AR
Rojer followed his mother as she swept the inn, his little broom swishing side to side in imitation of her broad strokes. She smiled down at him, ruffling his bright red hair, and he beamed back at her. He was three years old.
‘Sweep behind the firebox, Rojer,’ she said, and he hurried to comply, slapping the bristles