The Warded Man
Page 67
“And how long will it take this time?” Elona demanded. “You’ve already wasted your best breeding years with your nose buried in dusty old books.”
“My best …!” Leesha stuttered. “Mother, I’m barely twenty!”
“Exactly!” Elona shouted. “You should have three children by now, like your friend the scarecrow. Instead, I watch as you pull babes from every womb in the village but your own.”
“At least she was wise enough not to shrivel hers with pomm tea,” Bruna muttered.
Leesha whirled on her. “I told you to finish your porridge!” she said, and Bruna’s eyes widened. She looked ready to retort, then grunted and turned her attention back to her bowl.
“I’m not a brood mare, Mother,” Leesha said. “There’s more in life for me than that.”
“What more?” Elona pressed. “What could be more important?”
“I don’t know,” Leesha said honestly. “But I’ll know when I find it.”
“And in the meantime, you leave the care of Cutter’s Hollow to a girl you’ve never met and ham-hand Darsy, who nearly killed Ande, and half a dozen since.”
“It’s only for a few years,” Leesha said. “My whole life, you called me useless, but now I’m supposed to believe the Hollow can’t get on a few years without me?”
“What if something happens to you?” Elona demanded. “What if you’re cored on the road? What would I do?”
“What would you do?” Leesha asked. “For seven years, you’ve barely said a word to me, apart from pressing me to forgive Gared. You don’t know anything about me anymore, Mother. You haven’t bothered. So don’t pretend now that my death would be some great loss to you. If you want Gared’s child on your knee so badly, you’ll have to bear it yourself.”
Elona’s eyes widened, and as when Leesha was a willful child, her response was swift. “I forbid it!” she shouted, her open hand flying at Leesha’s face.
But Leesha was not a child anymore. She was of a size with her mother, faster and stronger. She caught Elona’s wrist and held it fast. “The days when your word carried weight with me are long past, Mother,” Leesha said.
Elona tried to pull away, but Leesha held on a bit, if only to show she could. When she was finally released, Elona rubbed her wrist and looked scornfully at her daughter. “You’ll be back one day, Leesha,” she swore. “Mark my words! And it will be much worse for you then!”
“I think it’s time you left, Mother,” Leesha said, opening the door just as Marick was raising his hand to knock. Elona snarled and pushed past him, stomping down the path.
“Apologies if I’m intruding,” Marick said. “I came for Mistress Bruna’s response. I’m bound for Angiers by midmorning.”
Leesha looked at Marick. His jaw was bruised, but his thick tan hid it well, and the herbs she had applied to his split lip and eye had kept the swelling down.
“You seem well recovered,” she said.
“Quick healers go far in my line of work,” Marick said.
“Well then fetch your horse,” Leesha said, “and return in an hour. I will deliver Bruna’s response personally.”
Marick smiled widely.
“It is good that you go,” Bruna said, when they were alone at last. “Cutter’s Hollow holds no more challenges for you, and you’re far too young to stagnate.”
“If you think that wasn’t a challenge,” Leesha said, “then you weren’t paying attention.”
“A challenge, perhaps,” Bruna said, “but the outcome was never in doubt. You’ve grown too strong for the likes of Elona.”
Strong, she thought. Is that what I’ve become? It didn’t feel that way most of the time, but it was true, none of the inhabitants of Cutter’s Hollow frightened her anymore.
Leesha gathered her bags, small and seemingly inadequate; a few dresses and books, some money, her herb pouch, a bedroll, and food. She left her pretties, the gifts her father had given her and other possessions near to her heart. Messengers traveled light, and Marick would not take well to having his horse overburdened. Bruna had said Jizell would provide for her during her training, but still, it seemed precious little to start a new life with.
A new life. For all the stress of the idea, it brought excitement, as well. Leesha had read every book in Bruna’s collection, but Jizell had a great many more, and the other Herb Gatherers in Angiers, if they could be persuaded to share, held more still.
But as the hour drew to a close, Leesha felt as if the breath were being squeezed from her. Where was her father? Would he not see her off?
“It’s nearly time,” Bruna said. Leesha looked up and realized her eyes were wet.
“We’d best say our good-byes,” Bruna said. “Odds are, we’ll never have another chance.”
“Bruna, what are you saying?” Leesha asked.
“Don’t play the fool with me, girl,” Bruna said. “You know what I mean. I’ve lived my share twice over, but I’m not going to last forever.”
“Bruna,” Leesha said, “I don’t have to go …”
“Pfagh!” Bruna said with a wave of her hand. “You’ve mastered all I can teach you, girl, so let these years be my last gift to you. Go,” she prodded, “see and learn as much as you can.”
She held out her arms, and Leesha fell into them. “Just promise me that you’ll look after my children when I’m gone. They can be stupid and willful, but there’s good in them, when the night is dark.”
“I will,” Leesha promised. “And I’ll make you proud.”
“You could never do otherwise,” the old woman said.
Leesha sobbed into Bruna’s rough shawl. “I’m scared, Bruna,” she said.
“You’d be a fool not to be,” Bruna said, “but I’ve seen a good piece of the world myself, and I’ve never seen a thing you couldn’t handle.”
Marick led his horse up the path not long after. The Messenger had a fresh spear in his hand, and his warded shield slung over the horn of his saddle. If the pummeling he had taken the day before pained him in any way, he gave no sign.
“Ay, Leesha!” he called when he saw her. “Ready to begin your adventure?”
Adventure. The word cut past sadness and fear, sending a thrill through her.
Marick took Leesha’s bags, slinging them atop his lean Angierian courser as Leesha turned to Bruna one last time. “I’m too old for good-byes that last half the day,” Bruna said. “Take care of yourself, girl.”
The old woman pressed a pouch into her hands, and Leesha heard the clink of Milnese coin, worth a fortune in Angiers. Bruna turned and went inside before Leesha could protest.
She pocketed the pouch quickly. The sight of metal coin this far from Miln could tempt any man, even a Messenger. They walked on opposite sides of the horse down the path to town, where the main road led on to Angiers. Leesha called to her father as they passed his house, but there was no reply. Elona saw them pass and went inside, slamming the door behind her.
Leesha hung her head. She had been counting on seeing her father one last time. She thought of all the villagers she saw every day, and how she hadn’t had time to part with them all properly. The letters she had left with Bruna seemed woefully inadequate.
“My best …!” Leesha stuttered. “Mother, I’m barely twenty!”
“Exactly!” Elona shouted. “You should have three children by now, like your friend the scarecrow. Instead, I watch as you pull babes from every womb in the village but your own.”
“At least she was wise enough not to shrivel hers with pomm tea,” Bruna muttered.
Leesha whirled on her. “I told you to finish your porridge!” she said, and Bruna’s eyes widened. She looked ready to retort, then grunted and turned her attention back to her bowl.
“I’m not a brood mare, Mother,” Leesha said. “There’s more in life for me than that.”
“What more?” Elona pressed. “What could be more important?”
“I don’t know,” Leesha said honestly. “But I’ll know when I find it.”
“And in the meantime, you leave the care of Cutter’s Hollow to a girl you’ve never met and ham-hand Darsy, who nearly killed Ande, and half a dozen since.”
“It’s only for a few years,” Leesha said. “My whole life, you called me useless, but now I’m supposed to believe the Hollow can’t get on a few years without me?”
“What if something happens to you?” Elona demanded. “What if you’re cored on the road? What would I do?”
“What would you do?” Leesha asked. “For seven years, you’ve barely said a word to me, apart from pressing me to forgive Gared. You don’t know anything about me anymore, Mother. You haven’t bothered. So don’t pretend now that my death would be some great loss to you. If you want Gared’s child on your knee so badly, you’ll have to bear it yourself.”
Elona’s eyes widened, and as when Leesha was a willful child, her response was swift. “I forbid it!” she shouted, her open hand flying at Leesha’s face.
But Leesha was not a child anymore. She was of a size with her mother, faster and stronger. She caught Elona’s wrist and held it fast. “The days when your word carried weight with me are long past, Mother,” Leesha said.
Elona tried to pull away, but Leesha held on a bit, if only to show she could. When she was finally released, Elona rubbed her wrist and looked scornfully at her daughter. “You’ll be back one day, Leesha,” she swore. “Mark my words! And it will be much worse for you then!”
“I think it’s time you left, Mother,” Leesha said, opening the door just as Marick was raising his hand to knock. Elona snarled and pushed past him, stomping down the path.
“Apologies if I’m intruding,” Marick said. “I came for Mistress Bruna’s response. I’m bound for Angiers by midmorning.”
Leesha looked at Marick. His jaw was bruised, but his thick tan hid it well, and the herbs she had applied to his split lip and eye had kept the swelling down.
“You seem well recovered,” she said.
“Quick healers go far in my line of work,” Marick said.
“Well then fetch your horse,” Leesha said, “and return in an hour. I will deliver Bruna’s response personally.”
Marick smiled widely.
“It is good that you go,” Bruna said, when they were alone at last. “Cutter’s Hollow holds no more challenges for you, and you’re far too young to stagnate.”
“If you think that wasn’t a challenge,” Leesha said, “then you weren’t paying attention.”
“A challenge, perhaps,” Bruna said, “but the outcome was never in doubt. You’ve grown too strong for the likes of Elona.”
Strong, she thought. Is that what I’ve become? It didn’t feel that way most of the time, but it was true, none of the inhabitants of Cutter’s Hollow frightened her anymore.
Leesha gathered her bags, small and seemingly inadequate; a few dresses and books, some money, her herb pouch, a bedroll, and food. She left her pretties, the gifts her father had given her and other possessions near to her heart. Messengers traveled light, and Marick would not take well to having his horse overburdened. Bruna had said Jizell would provide for her during her training, but still, it seemed precious little to start a new life with.
A new life. For all the stress of the idea, it brought excitement, as well. Leesha had read every book in Bruna’s collection, but Jizell had a great many more, and the other Herb Gatherers in Angiers, if they could be persuaded to share, held more still.
But as the hour drew to a close, Leesha felt as if the breath were being squeezed from her. Where was her father? Would he not see her off?
“It’s nearly time,” Bruna said. Leesha looked up and realized her eyes were wet.
“We’d best say our good-byes,” Bruna said. “Odds are, we’ll never have another chance.”
“Bruna, what are you saying?” Leesha asked.
“Don’t play the fool with me, girl,” Bruna said. “You know what I mean. I’ve lived my share twice over, but I’m not going to last forever.”
“Bruna,” Leesha said, “I don’t have to go …”
“Pfagh!” Bruna said with a wave of her hand. “You’ve mastered all I can teach you, girl, so let these years be my last gift to you. Go,” she prodded, “see and learn as much as you can.”
She held out her arms, and Leesha fell into them. “Just promise me that you’ll look after my children when I’m gone. They can be stupid and willful, but there’s good in them, when the night is dark.”
“I will,” Leesha promised. “And I’ll make you proud.”
“You could never do otherwise,” the old woman said.
Leesha sobbed into Bruna’s rough shawl. “I’m scared, Bruna,” she said.
“You’d be a fool not to be,” Bruna said, “but I’ve seen a good piece of the world myself, and I’ve never seen a thing you couldn’t handle.”
Marick led his horse up the path not long after. The Messenger had a fresh spear in his hand, and his warded shield slung over the horn of his saddle. If the pummeling he had taken the day before pained him in any way, he gave no sign.
“Ay, Leesha!” he called when he saw her. “Ready to begin your adventure?”
Adventure. The word cut past sadness and fear, sending a thrill through her.
Marick took Leesha’s bags, slinging them atop his lean Angierian courser as Leesha turned to Bruna one last time. “I’m too old for good-byes that last half the day,” Bruna said. “Take care of yourself, girl.”
The old woman pressed a pouch into her hands, and Leesha heard the clink of Milnese coin, worth a fortune in Angiers. Bruna turned and went inside before Leesha could protest.
She pocketed the pouch quickly. The sight of metal coin this far from Miln could tempt any man, even a Messenger. They walked on opposite sides of the horse down the path to town, where the main road led on to Angiers. Leesha called to her father as they passed his house, but there was no reply. Elona saw them pass and went inside, slamming the door behind her.
Leesha hung her head. She had been counting on seeing her father one last time. She thought of all the villagers she saw every day, and how she hadn’t had time to part with them all properly. The letters she had left with Bruna seemed woefully inadequate.
