Barren

‘Talk about it on your own time,’ Jeph cut in loudly. ‘I called this meeting, and the sun’s settin’.’

It was crowded atop the watchtower with all ten Speakers and Keven Marsh – who had carried his father up the ladder. Private squabbles died away as they took in Jeph’s greatward, clearly visible from above. The symbol brightened as shadows lengthened. By sunset the ward was glowing softly, illuminating all Jeph’s property.

Jeph pointed. ‘Led a couple Wanderers that way last night.’

Demons came in all shapes and sizes, but folk in the Brook lumped them into two groups: Regulars and Wanderers. Regulars tended to haunt the same paths, imprinting on an area and almost never leaving. Wanderers hunted where sound and spoor led, ranging wide and without pattern.

Corelings always rose in the same spot they used to flee the sun the night before. As the dark strengthened, black mist vented from the ground like smoke, coalescing into a pair of field demons.

The demons caught sight of people wandering Jeph’s yard and tamped their paws to pounce. Folk screamed and fell back, warriors moving forward to put a wall of shields between the demons and the townsfolk.

But as the demons leapt, they were thrown back as the greatward flashed like a bolt of lightning, turning night into day for the barest instant.

Jeph put two fingers in his mouth and gave a shrill whistle. Jeph Young, his eldest son, appeared with a bow, expertly putting a warded shaft into one of the demons. It yelped and collapsed. Its fellow shrieked and clawed at the forbidding, leaving streaks of magic in the air where the claws scraped against the greatward.

The other Bales children appeared with slingshots, peppering the second coreling with warded stones that sparked and bit against its armour. The demon hunched down and attempted to flee, but Jeph Young had another arrow nocked by then, taking it in the back. The downed demon kept kicking until Jeph Young put it down for good with his third shot.

Everyone was impressed by the spectacle. Folk down in the yard gave a cheer, and there was chatter in the watchtower among the Speakers. Only Jeorje was silent, eyes glittering. No doubt he had come more for politicking than magic, but there was power in Jeph’s greatward, and Selia knew the leader of Southwatch would covet it.

And why shouldn’t he? The greatwards could make their town’s succour a permanent thing. Folk could sleep sound in the night, and tend fields without fear of demons burning them just before harvest. Yet something in that covetous look left Selia unsettled.

When all had ample time for a look, Jeph led them back down to the yard and up onto his porch to address the folk. All eyes were on him, something Jeph Bales had never cared for, but he met those eyes boldly tonight, filled with a sense of purpose Selia had never seen before.

‘Messenger taught me a bit of warding before he left last year.’ No one needed to ask whom Jeph meant. There was only one Messenger who came bearing wards. ‘Been experimentin’ and you can see the results for yourself. Ent no test for these wards. Nothin’ to prove. Any as want them can have them. Messenger said they were to be spread far and wide. Said, ’gainst the corelings, we’re all on the same side.’

There was excited chatter in the crowd at that, but also doubt. Jeph’s greatward was ambitious. Many would not feel up to constructing their own when regular wards had done well enough for them thus far.

‘That ent all.’ Jeph’s words drowned in the buzz of the crowd.

‘Silence.’ Jeorje didn’t shout, but the soft-spoken word was loud, penetrating the din. He thumped his cane on the porch boards for emphasis, and folk froze like cats caught on the kitchen counter.

Jeph didn’t miss a beat, raising his own voice. ‘Messenger told me about corelings we ent seen yet – ones that only come out when the night is darkest. Shape changers that can look like friends and trick folk into stepping beyond the wards. Smart demons that can steal thoughts right outta your head and lead lesser corelings like hounds. Said we need to step up our forbiddings, and gave us the wards to do it. Everyone needs to learn ’em, from the schoolhouse slate to the last elder.’

Hog, prewarned, stepped forward. ‘For those that don’t want to wait on lessons, or ent got a steady warding hand, we’ve got mind wards as stamps, pendants, hat brims, even plates you can glue on your favourite helmet.’

‘How much you gonna charge for a set o’ them plates, Hog?’ Mack Pasture shouted.

Hog crossed his arms. ‘Twenty credits.’

The crowd gasped. Twenty credits could feed a family of five for a month. The Brook was prospering as never before, but few in town had that much to spare.

‘Always a cheat!’ Mack screamed. ‘Even when Messenger says we’re all on the same side!’

There were nods through the crowd, even some of Selia’s own militia. Hog’s greed was ever getting the better of him.

Selia thumped her spear on the porch, much as Jeorje had. ‘Ten.’

The word bit through the anger in the crowd, all eyes turning towards her. She kept her chin high as Hog scowled, daring him to contradict her.

Rusco Hog was no fool. This wasn’t the first time he’d faced an angry crowd, and without Selia to put out the fire he’d have been strung up as a thief long since. He swallowed his grimace and gave a sharp, shallow nod.

‘Ten.’ Jeorje thumped his cane, and Selia too had to swallow a grimace. Any time he could not get the first word, Jeorje was sure to get the last, making every ruling of the town council appear to be his own personal judgement.

He met her look much as she’d met Hog’s, calmly daring her to contradict him in front of a crowd.

There was nothing Selia could say without sounding petulant and weak, and Jeorje knew it. Folk outside Southwatch might not like the Speaker, but they were all afraid of him. Old Man Watch held folk to an impossible standard and was quick to punish when they fell short.

‘Council better rule on every price in the General Store,’ Mack called. ‘Elsewise he’ll mark up everythin’ else to make up the loss.’

Hog lifted a finger, and store security moved to surround him, glowering at any who stepped close. ‘Don’t want to shop at my store, Mack Pasture, ent forcing you.’

‘Don’t matter!’ Jeph’s shout signalled the end of his patience. ‘Don’t want to pay Hog, Pasture? Learn to draw the rippin’ wards yourself! Just said they were free for all.’

‘Why did the Messenger give all this to you, Jeph Bales, and not the council?’ Raddock Lawry asked loudly. ‘All this talk of demons that look like folk and read minds sounds like a Jak Scaletongue story.’

‘Might be Scaletongue ent just an ale story,’ Jeph said.

‘Don’t answer the question. Why you, Bales?’ Raddock wasn’t well liked outside his borough, but his white beard was respected, especially when so few of them remained in the Brook. On hearing the question, the crowd wanted an answer, too.

Jeph straightened, meeting Raddock’s eye. ‘Because the Messenger was Arlen Bales. My son.’

Even Raddock Lawry and Mack Pasture had nothing to shout in the stunned silence that followed. The Messenger was a revered figure in the Brook. Half the folk thought he was the Deliverer come again, and the rest were still thinking it over. Only a fool would be first to speak.

Jeorje thumped his cane, eyes hard, but whether it was religious fervour or threatening a rival, Selia could not say.

‘All know my wife, Silvy, was cored.’ Jeph pointed to a spot in the yard. ‘Right there.’

Folk standing on the spot shifted uneasily, edging away as if it were cursed.

‘What folk don’t know is that I stood right here,’ he stomped a foot on the porch, ‘safe behind the wards, and watched it happen.’

The crowd gave a collective gasp.

‘Din’t have battle wards back then. Din’t think I could do anythin’ but die, I went out into a yard full of demons.’ Jeph shook his head. ‘But Arlen din’t see it that way. Din’t see anythin’, ’cept his mam in trouble. Ran into the yard and knocked a flame demon off Silvy with a milk bucket and dragged her behind the wards of the pig pen to wait out the night.’

Selia saw Jeph’s muscles clench, knuckles whitening as he gripped the porch rail.

‘When his mam died two days later, Arlen couldn’t find it in his heart to forgive me. Creator my witness, can’t blame him for that. Ran off and caught Messenger Ragen on his way back to Miln, made his way in the Free Cities.’

‘Why’d he come back?’ someone shouted.

‘Found the battle wards, my boy,’ Jeph said. ‘Came back to make sure what happened to his mam never happened again. But that ent all.’ He turned, meeting the eyes of Raddock Lawry and Garric Fisher. ‘Arlen and Renna Tanner were promised back in 319 AR, just before Arlen ran off. Both of us saw first-hand how Harl Tanner treated his daughters. Locked his girls in the outhouse at night when they were wilful, and put hands on them like they were his wives. That’s why I took Ilain back with me.’

‘Din’t stop you takin’ her to your bed before Silvy’s side was cool,’ Garric growled. ‘Reckon she witched you with those big bubbies just like Renna Tanner did my son.’

‘Remember Arlen brought Renna back to my farm, Fisher,’ Jeph said. ‘Sat right here and told me she and Cobie wanted to be together, just like the Tender said. Harl killed Cobie, and Renna killed Harl for it before he could kill her next.’

‘And if the little skink had minded her da, they’d all be alive,’ Garric snapped. ‘This town’s had enough scandal from Tanner whores.’