The Daylight War. Peter Brett V.

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СКАЧАТЬ struggled in the press, even her new strength overwhelmed by the swarm of people. ‘Get back!’ she screamed, but they seemed not to hear, and Renna felt her blood come to a boil, her vision going red as she reached for her knife.

      In that instant, Renna saw a bottle flying through the air at Arlen’s head, but she was in no position to stop it.

      She needn’t have worried. Arlen’s hand moved faster than her eyes could see, snatching the bottle out of the air. Everyone gasped, and a path opened up in the crowd along its trajectory, all those innocent of the deed stepping quickly away to reveal a group of three men glaring at Arlen. Their clothes were patched and threadbare, and there was a hollow look about them that bespoke hard times. They had thrown their bottle, but Renna knew drinkers when she saw them, and knew it could spur all sorts of mean. Again, her hand fell to the handle of Harl’s knife.

      ‘Deliverer!’ one of the men spat on the ground. ‘If you’re the ripping Deliverer, where were you when the Krasians took my daughter?!’

      ‘And my son!’ another shouted.

      ‘And my farm!’ the third added.

      ‘Show some ripping respect,’ Linder Cutter growled, punching the lead man in the face. He went down heavily, and in response the other two tackled the giant Cutter. They struggled back and forth, the men’s legs swinging freely off the ground as they tried to pull Linder down. The man he had punched was shaking his head and struggling to get back to his feet with murder in his eyes.

      ‘Ay, he asked a fair question!’ someone else in the crowd cried, and there were grumblings of assent and argument. Half a dozen Cutters were racing to the scene.

      Arlen was there in an instant, crossing the distance inhumanly fast. ‘Enough!’ He picked the men off Linder by their shirt collars, holding them like insolent children. Linder looked smug until Arlen glared at him as well.

      ‘Next time you punch someone in my name, Linder, I’ll crack your skull.’ Linder suddenly looked his age, the overgrown boy’s face reddening.

      Arlen tossed the other two men aside gently enough for them to land on their feet and reached out to the man on the ground, helping him up. When he spoke, his voice was gentle, but it carried as easily as Jow’s in the sound shell so all could hear.

      ‘Know you’re hurtin’, friend, and I’m sorry for your daughter, but throwing bottles and acting the fool ent helping her, and I’m not the one you ought to be mad at. Never claimed to be the Deliverer. I may be painted up, but I’m just folk like you.’

      ‘But you Delivered the Hollow,’ the man said, almost pleading.

      Arlen shook his head, scanning the crowd as he did. Everyone was quiet, hanging on his words. ‘Didn’t deliver the Hollow. Hollowers did that themselves, bleeding right here on the cobbles under our feet. I threw in when they had a bad patch, ay, but so did Leesha Paper and Rojer Inn. So did Linder and Evin Cutter, and a hundred other folk. Even Jow, though it seems he’s got it in his head to act the fool as well.’ He glanced at Jow, who looked sheepish as he leapt down from the stage.

      Arlen put his hand on the man’s shoulder. ‘Know what it’s like to lose people. Apt to make you crazy and mad as the Core. But there’s more storms comin’. I’m here to help, but what I do won’t mean spit if I’m doing it alone. It’s your choice if you want to throw in or drink and point fingers, but I don’t owe you any explanations.’

      He turned, taking in the crowd as his voice rose to a boom. ‘Got more useful things to do than rabble-rousing in the Corelings’ Graveyard! Wager that goes for the rest of you, too!’

      Suddenly everyone was studying their feet and muttering about unfinished business. They left in a steady flow.

      Jow Cutter came rushing up to them as Arlen turned to go. ‘I’m sorry. Din’t mean—’

      Arlen cut him off. ‘Ent mad at you, Jow. Had it comin’ for being so mysterious last time and keepin’ to myself.’

      Jow seemed relieved until Arlen raised a finger. ‘But that sound shell is for Tenders and Jongleurs and fiddle wizards, not any fool wants to shout. Don’t want to see you up there again, ’less you’re doing a song and dance. You ent got wood to chop, go ask the Butchers for something to do.’

      Jow nodded eagerly and ran off.

      Renna looked back to where the Inquisitor had stood, but he, too, was gone.

      ‘Place is more like the Brook than I care for,’ Renna said. ‘They gonna stake us, we don’t save them?’

      ‘Everyone needs the fool slapped out of ’em now and again, Ren,’ Arlen said as they led their horses into the stable behind the newly built inn. ‘Times ent been easy, and we can forgive if folk’re a bit excitable. Don’t need to reach for your knife every time.’

      Renna stiffened at that. ‘Din’t know I was that obvious.’

      Arlen shrugged. ‘It’s a big knife.’

      A young man, thin but well muscled, came to take their horses. He took one glance at Twilight Dancer and his gaze snapped to Arlen.

      ‘Ay, Keet, it’s me,’ Arlen said. ‘Know space is tight, but my promised Renna and I need a room for a few weeks.’

      Keet nodded. He quickly stabled the horses and led them through a small side entrance to a mudroom. ‘Wait here while I fetch my da.’

      ‘His da, Smitt, is the innkeeper and Town Speaker,’ Arlen said when he was gone. ‘Good man, you don’t cross him. More honest than Hog, but tough enough, time comes to haggle. His wife, Stefny, ent a bad sort in small doses, but she’s always got a look like she ent been to the outhouse in a week and wants to take it out on any who come too close. Quick to get preachy, too, tellin’ you this and that about how the Creator wants you to live, like someone out of Southwatch.’

      Renna bristled. The Watches had been quick to condemn her to death and call it Creator’s will.

      Moments later a big man, thickly bearded and strong at around sixty summers, came into the mudroom followed by a small, thin woman with grey hair pulled back in a tight bun. Arlen was right about her face. She looked like she’d just eaten a bitter and was ready to spit it out.

      ‘Thank the Creator you’re back,’ Smitt said, after the introductions were made.

      ‘Creator ent got anything to do with it,’ Arlen said. ‘Got business in the Hollow.’

      ‘Creator’s hand is in everything, great and small,’ Stefny said. The edge of a demon scar peeked from the high neck of her dress, and there was a hardness about her that recalled Selia Barren, Speaker of Tibbet’s Brook, who had defended Renna when no one else would. Renna had never met a woman stronger than Selia.

      Without thinking about it, Renna reached out to her, brushing the scar lightly. ‘You fought, didn’t you?’ she asked. ‘When the wards failed last year.’

      The woman’s eyes widened, but she nodded. ‘Couldn’t just stand by.’

      ‘Course not,’ Renna said, squeezing СКАЧАТЬ