The Daylight War
Page 142
‘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.
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.
