The cart bumped and jerked as they raced along the rough dirt road, pausing only once to rotate the horses. Arlen looked at the food Ilain had packed as if it were poison. Jeph ate it hungrily.
As Arlen picked at the grainy bread and hard, pungent cheese, he started to think that maybe it was all a misunderstanding. Maybe he hadnât overheard what he thought he had. Maybe Jeph hadnât hesitated in pushing Ilain away.
It was a tempting illusion, but Jeph shattered it a moment later. âWhat do you think of Harlâs younger daughter?â he asked. âYou spent some time with her.â Arlen felt as if his father had just punched him in the stomach.
âRenna?â Arlen asked, playing innocent. âSheâs okay, I guess. Why?â
âI spoke to Harl,â his father said. âSheâs going to come live with us when we go back to the farm.â
âWhy?â Arlen asked.
âTo look after your mam, help around the farm, and ⦠other reasons.â
âWhat other reasons?â Arlen pressed.
âHarl and I want to see if you two will get along,â Jeph said.
âWhat if we donât?â Arlen asked. âWhat if I donât want some girl following me around all day asking me to play kissy with her?â
âOne day,â Jeph said, âyou might not mind playing kissy so much.â
âSo let her come then,â Arlen said, shrugging his shoulders and pretending not to know what his father was getting at. âWhy is Harl so eager to be rid of her?â
âYouâve seen the state of their farm; they can barely feed themselves,â Jeph said. âHarl loves his daughters very much, and he wants the best for them. And whatâs best is marrying them while theyâre still young, so he can have sons to help him out and grandchildren before he dies. Ilain is already older than most girls who marry. Lucik Boggin is going to come out to help on Harlâs farm starting in the fall. Theyâre hoping he and Beni will get along.â
âI suppose Lucik didnât have any choice, either,â Arlen grumbled.
âHeâs happy to go, and lucky at that!â Arlenâs father snapped, losing his patience. âYouâre going to have to learn some hard lessons about life, Arlen. There are a lot more boys than girls in the Brook, and we canât just fritter our lives away. Every year, we lose more to dotage and sickness and corelings. If we donât keep children coming, Tibbetâs Brook will fade away just like a hundred other villages! We canât let that happen!â
Arlen, seeing his normally placid father seething, wisely said nothing.
An hour later, Silvy started screaming. They turned to find her trying to stand up right there in the cart, clutching at her chest, her breath coming in loud, horrid gasps. Arlen leapt into the back of the cart, and she gripped him with surprisingly strong hands, coughing thick phlegm onto his shirt. Her bulging, bloodshot eyes stared wildly into his, but there was no recognition in them. Arlen screamed as she thrashed about, holding her as steadily as he could.
Jeph stopped the cart and together they forced her to lie back down. She thrashed about, screaming in hoarse gasps. And then, like Cholie, she gave a final wrack, and lay still.
Jeph looked at his wife, and then threw his head back and screamed. Arlen nearly bit through his lip trying to hold back his tears, but in the end he failed. They wept together over the woman.
When their sobs eased, Arlen looked around, his eyes lifeless. He tried to focus, but the world seemed blurry, as if it wasnât real.
âWhat do we do now?â he asked finally.
âWe turn around,â his father said, and the words cut Arlen like a knife. âWe take her home and burn her. We try to go on. Thereâs still the farm and the animals to care for, and even with Renna and Norine to help us, thereâs going to be some hard times ahead.â
âRenna?â Arlen asked incredulously. âWeâre still taking her with us? Even now?â
âLife goes on, Arlen,â his father said. âYouâre almost a man, and a man needs a wife.â
âDid you arrange one for both of us?â Arlen blurted.
âWhat?â Jeph asked.
âI heard you and Ilain last night!â Arlen screamed. âYouâve got another wife all ready! What do you care about Mam? Youâve already got someone else to take care of your thingie! At least, until she gets killed too, because youâre too scared to help her!â
Arlenâs father hit him; a hard slap across the face that cracked the morning air. His anger faded instantly, and he reached out to his son. âArlen, Iâm sorry â¦!â he choked, but the boy pulled away and jumped off the cart.
âArlen!â Jeph cried, but the boy ignored him, running as hard as he could for the woods off to the side of the road.
3 (#litres_trial_promo)
A Night Alone 319 AR (#litres_trial_promo)
Arlen ran through the woods as fast as he could, making sharp, sudden turns, picking his direction at random. He wanted to be sure his father couldnât track him, but as Jephâs calls faded, he realized his father wasnât following at all.
Why should he bother? he thought. He knows I have to come back before nightfall. Where else could I go?
Anywhere. The answer came unbidden, but he knew in his heart that it was true.
He couldnât go back to the farm and pretend everything was all right. He couldnât watch Ilain claim his motherâs bed. Even pretty Renna, who kissed so softly, would only be a reminder of what he had lost, and why.
But where could he go? His father was right about one thing. He couldnât run forever. He would have to find succour before dark, or the coming night would be his last.
Going back to Tibbetâs Brook was not an option. Whoever he sought succour from would drag him home by the ear the next day, and heâd be switched for the stunt with nothing to show.
Sunny Pasture, then. Unless Hog was paying them to carry something, almost no one from Tibbetâs Brook ever went there, unless they were Messengers.
Coline had said Ragen was heading to Sunny Pasture before returning to the Free Cities. Arlen liked Ragen, the only elder heâd ever met who didnât talk down to him. The Messenger and Keerin were a day and more ahead of him, and mounted, but if he hurried, perhaps he could catch them in time and beg passage to the Free Cities.
He still had Colineâs map, strung around his neck. It showed the road to Sunny Pasture, and the farms along the way. Even deep in the woods, he was pretty sure which way was north.
At midday he found the road, or rather the road found him, cutting straight across the woods ahead of him. He must have lost his sense of direction in the trees.
He walked on for a few hours, but he saw no sign of a farm, or the old Herb Gathererâs home. Looking at the sun, his worry increased. If he was walking north, the sun should be off to his left, but it wasnât. It was right in front of him.
He stopped and looked at the map, and his fears were confirmed. He wasnât on the road to Sunny Pasture, he was on the road to the Free Cities. Worse, after the road split off from the path to Sunny Pasture, it went right off the edge of the map.
The idea of backtracking was daunting, especially with no way to know if he could make it to succour in time. He took a step back the way he had come.
No, he decided. Going back is Daâs way. Whatever happens, Iâm going forward.
Arlen started walking again, leaving both Tibbetâs Brook and Sunny Pasture behind. Each step was lighter and easier than the one before.
He walked for hours more, eventually leaving the trees behind and entering grassland: wide, lush fields untouched by plough or grazing. He crested a hilltop, breathing deeply of the fresh, untainted air. There was a large boulder jutting from the ground, and Arlen scrambled on top of it, looking out at a wide world that had always been beyond his reach. There was no sign of habitation, no place to seek succour. He was afraid of the coming night, but it was a distant feeling, like knowing you would grow old and die one day.
As the afternoon turned to evening, Arlen began looking for places to make his stand. A copse of trees held promise; there was little grass beneath them, and he could draw wards in the soil, but a wood demon might climb one of the trees, and drop into his warding ring from above.
There was a small, stony hillock free of grass, but when Arlen stood on top of it, the wind was strong, and he feared it might mar the wards, rendering them useless.
Finally, Arlen came to a place where flame demons had set a recent blaze. New buds had yet to pierce the ash, and a scuff of his foot found hard soil beneath. He cleared the ash from a wide area and began his warding circle. He had little time, so he kept it small, not wanting his haste to make him careless.