The Demon Cycle Series Books 1 and 2: The Painted Man, The Desert Spear. Peter V. Brett

Arlen said. ‘It was never more than a means to an end.’

      ‘What end?’ Mery asked. ‘Lying dead on the road?’

      ‘No,’ Arlen said. ‘That won’t happen to me.’

      ‘What will you gain as a Messenger that you can’t as a Warder?’

      ‘Escape,’ Arlen said without thinking.

      Mery fell silent. She turned her head to avoid his eyes, and after a few moments, slipped her arm from his. She sat quietly, and Arlen found sadness only made her more beautiful still.

      ‘Escape from what?’ she asked at last. ‘From me?’

      Arlen looked at her, drawn in ways he was only just beginning to understand, and his throat caught. Would it be so bad to stay? What were the chances of finding another like Mery?

      But was that enough? He’d never wanted family. They were attachments he did not need. If he had wanted marriage and children, he might as well have stayed in Tibbet’s Brook with Renna. He’d thought Mery was different …

      Arlen called to mind the image that had sustained him for the last three years, seeing himself riding down the road, free to roam. As always, the thought swelled him, until he turned to look again at Mery. The fantasy fled, and all he could think about was kissing her again.

      ‘Not you,’ he said, taking her hands. ‘Never you.’ Their lips met again, and for a time, his thoughts touched on nothing else.

      ‘I have an assignment to Harden’s Grove,’ Ragen said, referring to a small farming hamlet a full day’s ride from Fort Miln. ‘Would you care to join me, Arlen?’

      ‘Ragen, no!’ Elissa cried.

      Arlen glared, but Ragen grabbed his arm before he could speak. ‘Arlen, may I have a moment alone with my wife?’ he asked gently. Arlen wiped his mouth and excused himself.

      Ragen closed the door after him, but Arlen refused to let his fate be decided out of his hands, and circled around through the kitchen, listening at the servants’ entrance. The cook looked at him, but Arlen looked right back, and the man kept to his own business.

      ‘He’s too young!’ Elissa was saying.

      ‘Lissa, he’ll always be too young for you,’ Ragen said. ‘Arlen is sixteen, and he’s old enough to make a simple day trip.’

      ‘You’re encouraging him!’

      ‘You know full well Arlen needs no encouragement from me,’ Ragen said.

      ‘Enabling him, then,’ Elissa snapped. ‘He’s safer here!’

      ‘He’ll be safe enough with me,’ Ragen said. ‘Isn’t it better that he makes his first few trips with someone to supervise him?’

      ‘I’d rather he not make his first few trips at all,’ Elissa said acidly. ‘If you cared about him, you’d feel the same.’

      ‘Night, Lissa, it’s not like we’ll even see a demon. We’ll reach the Grove before sunset and leave after sunrise. Regular folk make the trip all the time.’

      ‘I don’t care,’ Elissa said. ‘I don’t want him going.’

      ‘It’s not your choice,’ Ragen reminded.

      ‘I forbid it!’ Elissa shouted.

      ‘You can’t!’ Ragen shouted back. Arlen had never heard him raise his voice to her.

      ‘Just you watch me,’ Elissa snarled. ‘I’ll drug your horses! I’ll chop every spear in two! I’ll throw your armour in the well to rust!’

      ‘Take away every tool you want,’ Ragen said through gritted teeth, ‘and Arlen and I will still leave for Harden’s Grove tomorrow, on foot, if need be.’

      ‘I’ll leave you,’ Elissa said quietly.

      ‘What?’

      ‘You heard me,’ she said. ‘Take Arlen out of here, and I’ll be gone before you get back.’

      ‘You can’t be serious,’ Ragen said.

      ‘I’ve never been more serious in my life,’ Elissa said. ‘Take him and I go.’

      Ragen was quiet a long time. ‘Look, Lissa,’ he said finally. ‘I know how upset you’ve been that you haven’t gotten pregnant …’

      ‘Don’t you dare bring that into this!’ Elissa growled.

      ‘Arlen is not your son!’ Ragen shouted. ‘No amount of smothering will ever make it so! He is our guest, not our child!’

      ‘Of course he’s not our child!’ Elissa shouted. ‘How could he be when you’re out delivering ripping letters whenever I cycle?’

      ‘You knew what I was when you married me,’ Ragen reminded her.

      ‘I know,’ Elissa replied, ‘and I’m realizing that I should have listened to my mother.’

      ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Ragen demanded.

      ‘It means I can’t do this anymore,’ Elissa said, starting to cry. ‘The constant waiting, wondering if you’ll ever come home; the scars you claim are nothing. The praying that the scant few times we make love will allow me to conceive before I’m too old. And now, this!

      ‘I knew what you were when we married,’ she sobbed, ‘and I thought I had learned to handle it. But this … Ragen, I just can’t bear the thought of losing you both. I can’t!’

      A hand rested on Arlen’s shoulder, giving him a start. Margrit stood there, a stern look on her face. ‘You shouldn’t be listening to this,’ she said, and Arlen felt ashamed for his spying. He was about to leave when he caught the Messenger’s words.