The Painted Man

Harl and Ilain quickly shut the barn door and checked the wards. ‘What are you waiting for?’ the man roared at Arlen. ‘Run for the house! They’ll be here in a moment!’

He had barely spoken the words when the demons began to rise. He and Arlen sprinted for the house as spindly, clawed arms and horned heads seemed to grow right out of the ground.

They dodged left and right around the rising death, adrenaline and fear giving them agility and speed. The first corelings to solidify, a group of lithesome flame demons, gave chase, gaining on them. As Arlen and Ilain ran on, Harl turned and hurled his pitchfork into their midst.

The weapon struck the lead demon full in the chest, knocking it into its fellows, but even the skin of a tiny flame demon was too knobbed and tough for a pitchfork to pierce. The creature picked up the tool in its claws and spat a gout of flame upon it, setting the wooden haft alight, then tossed it aside.

But though the coreling hadn’t been hurt, the throw delayed them. The demons rushed forward, but as Harl leapt onto the porch, they came to an abrupt halt, slamming into a line of wards that stopped them as surely as if they had run into a brick wall. As the magic flared brightly and hurled them back into the yard, Harl rushed into the house. He slammed and bolted the door, throwing his back against the portal.

‘Creator be praised,’ he said weakly, panting and pale.

The air inside Harl’s farmhouse was thick and hot, stinking of must and waste. The buggy reeds on the floor absorbed some of the water that made it past the thatch, but they were far from fresh. Two dogs and several cats shared the home, forcing everyone to step carefully. A stone pot hung in the fireplace, adding to the mix the sour scent of a stew perpetually cooking, added to as it diminished. A patchwork curtain in one corner gave a touch of privacy for the chamber pot.

Arlen did his best to redo Silvy’s bandages, and then Ilain and her sister Beni put her in their room, while Harl’s youngest, Renna, set another two cracked wooden bowls at the table for Arlen and his father.

There were only three rooms, one shared by the girls, another for Harl, and the common room where they cooked and ate and worked. A ragged curtain divided the room, partitioning off the area for cooking and eating. A warded door in the common room led to the small barn.

‘Renna, take Arlen and check the wards while the men talk and Beni and I get supper ready,’ Ilain said.

Renna nodded, taking Arlen’s hand and pulling him along. She was almost ten, close to Arlen’s age of eleven, and pretty beneath the smudges of dirt on her face. She wore a plain shift, worn and carefully mended, and her brown hair was tied back with a ragged strip of cloth, though many locks had freed themselves to fall about her round face.

‘This one’s scuffed,’ the girl commented, pointing to a ward on one of the sills. ‘One of the cats must have stepped on it.’ Taking a stick of charcoal from the kit, she carefully traced the line where it had been broken.

‘That’s no good,’ Arlen said. ‘The lines ent smooth anymore. That weakens the ward. You should draw it over.’

‘I’m not allowed to draw a fresh one,’ Renna whispered. ‘I’m supposed to tell Father or Ilain if there’s one I can’t fix.’

‘I can do it,’ Arlen said, taking the stick. He carefully wiped clean the old ward and drew a new one, his arm moving with quick confidence. Stepping back as he finished, he looked around the window, and then swiftly replaced several others as well.

While he worked, Harl caught sight of them and started to rise nervously, but a motion and a few confident words from Jeph brought him back to his seat.

Arlen took a moment to admire his work. ‘Even a rock demon won’t get through that,’ he said proudly. He turned, and found Renna staring at him. ‘What?’ he asked.

‘You’re taller than I remember,’ the girl said, looking down and smiling shyly.

‘Well, it’s been a couple of years,’ Arlen replied, not knowing what else to say. When they finished their sweep, Harl called his daughter over. He and Renna spoke softly to one another, and Arlen caught her looking at him once or twice, but he couldn’t hear what was said.

Dinner was a tough stew of parsnip and corn with a meat Arlen couldn’t identify, but it was filling enough. While they ate, they told their tale.

‘Wish you’da come to us first,’ Harl said when they finished. ‘We been t’old Mey Friman plenty times. Closer’n going all the way to Town Square t’see Trigg. If it took you two hours of cracking the whip t’get back to us, you’da reached Mack Pasture’s farm soon, you pressed on. Old Mey, she’s only an hour-so past that. She never did cotton to living in town. You’d really whipped that mare, you mighta made it tonight.’

Arlen slammed down his spoon. All eyes at the table turned to him, but he didn’t even notice, so focused was he on his father.

Jeph could not weather that glare for long. He hung his head. ‘There was no way to know,’ he said miserably.

Ilain touched his shoulder. ‘Don’t blame yourself for being cautious,’ she said. She looked at Arlen, reprimand in her eyes. ‘You’ll understand when you’re older,’ she told him.

Arlen rose sharply and stomped away from the table. He went through the curtain and curled up by a window, watching the demons through a broken slat in the shutters. Again and again they tried and failed to pierce the wards, but Arlen didn’t feel protected by the magic. He felt imprisoned by it.

‘Take Arlen into the barn and play,’ Harl ordered his younger daughters after the rest had finished eating. ‘Ilain will take the bowls. Let’cher elders talk.’

Beni and Renna rose as one, bouncing out of the curtain. Arlen was in no mood to play, but the girls didn’t let him speak, yanking him to his feet and out the door into the barn.

Beni lit a cracked lantern, casting the barn in a dull glow. Harl had two old cows, four goats, a pig with eight sucklings, and six chickens. All were gaunt and bony; underfed. Even the pig’s ribs showed. The stock seemed barely enough to feed Harl and the girls.

The barn itself was no better. Half the shutters were broken, and the hay on the floor was rotted. The goats had eaten through the wall of their stall, and were pulling the cow’s hay. Mud, slop, and faeces had churned into a single muck in the pig stall.

Renna dragged Arlen to each stall in turn. ‘Da doesn’t like us naming the animals,’ she confessed, ‘so we do it secret. This one’s Hoofy.’ She pointed to a cow. ‘Her milk tastes sour, but Da says it’s fine. Next to her is Grouchy. She kicks, but only if you milk too hard, or not soon enough. The goats are …’

‘Arlen doesn’t care about the animals,’ Beni scolded her sister. She grabbed his arm and pulled him away. Beni was taller than her sister, and older, but Arlen thought Renna was prettier. They climbed into the hayloft, plopping down on the clean hay.

‘Let’s play Succour,’ Beni said. She pulled a tiny leather pouch from her pocket, rolling four wooden dice onto the floor of the loft. The dice were painted with symbols: flame, rock, water, wind, wood, and ward. There were many ways to play, but most rules agreed you needed to throw three wards before rolling four of any other kind.

They played at the dice for a while. Renna and Beni had their own rules, many of which Arlen suspected were made up to let them win.

‘Two wards three times in a row counts as three wards,’ Beni announced, after throwing just that. ‘We win.’ Arlen disagreed, but he didn’t see much point in arguing.

‘Since we won, you have to do what we say,’ Beni declared.

‘Do not,’ Arlen said.

‘Do too!’ Beni insisted. Again, Arlen felt as if arguing would get him nowhere.

‘What would I have to do?’ he asked suspiciously.

‘Make him play kissy!’ Renna clapped.

Beni swatted her sister on the head. ‘I know, dumbs!’

‘What’s kissy?’ Arlen asked, afraid he already knew the answer.

‘Oh, you’ll see,’ Beni said, and both girls laughed. ‘It’s a grown-up game. Da plays it with Ilain sometimes. You practice being married.’

‘What, like saying your promises?’ Arlen asked, wary.

‘No, dumbs, like this,’ Beni said. She put her arms around Arlen’s shoulders, and pressed her mouth to his.

Arlen had never kissed a girl before. She opened her mouth to him, and so he did the same. Their teeth clicked, and both of them recoiled. ‘Ow!’ Arlen said.

‘You do it too hard, Beni,’ Renna complained. ‘It’s my turn.’

Indeed, Renna’s kiss was much softer. Arlen found it rather pleasant. Like being near the fire when it was cold.

‘There,’ Renna said, when their lips parted. ‘That’s how you do it.’

‘We have to share the bed tonight,’ Beni said. ‘We can practise later.’

‘I’m sorry you had to give up your bed on account of my mam,’ Arlen said.

‘It’s okay,’ Renna said. ‘We used to have to share a bed every night, until Mam died. But now Ilain sleeps with Da.’

‘Why?’ Arlen asked.

‘We’re not supposed to talk about it,’ Beni hissed at Renna.

Renna ignored her, but she kept her voice low. ‘Ilain says that now that Mam’s gone, Da told her it’s her duty to keep him happy the way a wife is supposed to.’

‘Like cooking and sewing and stuff?’ Arlen asked.

‘No, it’s a game like kissy,’ Beni said. ‘But you need a boy to play it.’ She tugged on his overalls. ‘If you show us your thingie, we’ll teach you.’

‘I am not showing you my thingie!’ Arlen said, backing away.

‘Why not?’ Renna asked. ‘Beni showed Lucik Boggin, and now he wants to play all the time.’

‘Da and Lucik’s father said we’re promised,’ Beni bragged. ‘So that makes it okay. Since you’re going to be promised to Renna, you should show her yours.’ Renna bit her finger and looked away, but she watched Arlen out of the corner of her eye.

‘That’s not true!’ Arlen said. ‘I’m not promised to anyone!’

‘What do you think the elders are talking about inside, dumbs?’ Beni asked.

‘Are not,’ Arlen said.

‘Go see!’ Beni challenged.

Arlen looked at both girls, then climbed down the ladder, slipping into the house as quietly as he could. He could hear voices from behind the curtain, and crept closer.

‘I wanted Lucik right away,’ Harl was saying, ‘but Fernan wants him makin’ mash for another season. Without an extra back around the farm, it’s hard keepin’ our bellies full,’ specially since them chickens quit layin’ and one of the milk cows soured.’

‘We’ll take Renna on our way back from Mey,’ Jeph said.

‘Gonna tell him they’s promised?’ Harl asked. Arlen’s breath caught.

‘No reason not to,’ Jeph said.

Harl grunted. ‘Reckon you should wait till t’morrer,’ he said. ‘While yur alone on the road. Sometime boys cause a scene when they’s first told. It kin hurt a girl’s feelin’s.’

‘You’re probably right,’ Jeph said. Arlen wanted to scream.

‘Know I am,’ Harl said. ‘Trust a man with daughters; they’ll get upset over any old thing, ent that right, Lainie?’ There was a smack, and Ilain yelped. ‘But still,’ Harl went on, ‘you kin do them no hurt that a few hours of cryin’ won’t solve.’

There was a long silence, and Arlen started to edge back towards the barn door.

‘I’m off t’bed,’ Harl grunted. Arlen froze. ‘See’n how Silvy’s in yur bed tonight, Lainie,’ he went on, ‘you c’n sleep with me after you scrape the bowls and round up the girls.’

Arlen ducked behind a workbench and stayed there as Harl went to the privy to relieve himself, and then went into his room, closing the door. Arlen was about to creep back to the barn when Ilain spoke.

‘I want to go, too,’ she blurted, just after the door closed.

‘What?’ Jeph asked.

Arlen could see their feet under the curtain from where he crouched. Ilain came around the table to sit next to his father.

‘Take me with you,’ Ilain repeated. ‘Please. Beni will be fine once Lucik comes. I need to get away.’

‘Why?’ Jeph asked. ‘Surely you have enough food for three.’

‘It’s not that,’ Ilain said. ‘It doesn’t matter why. I can tell Da I’ll be out in the fields when you come for Renna. I’ll run down the road, and meet you there. By the time Da realizes where I’ve gone, there’ll be a night between us. He’ll never follow.’

‘I wouldn’t be too sure of that,’ Jeph said.

‘Your farm is as far from here as there is,’ Ilain pleaded. Arlen saw her put her hand on Jeph’s knee. ‘I can work,’ she promised. ‘I’ll earn my keep.’

‘I can’t just steal you away from Harl,’ Jeph said. ‘I’ve no quarrel with him, and I’m not about to start one.’

Ilain spat. ‘The old wretch would have you think I’m sharing his bed because of Silvy,’ she said quietly. ‘Truer is he raises his hand to me if I don’t join him every night after Renna and Beni are off to bed.’

Jeph was silent a long time. ‘I see,’ he said at last. He made a fist, and started to rise.

‘Don’t, please,’ Ilain said. ‘You don’t know what he’s like. He’ll kill you.’

‘I should just stand by?’ Jeph asked. Arlen didn’t understand what the fuss was about. So what if Ilain slept in Harl’s room?

Arlen saw Ilain move closer to his father. ‘You’ll need someone to take care of Silvy,’ she whispered. ‘And if she should pass …’ she leaned in further, and her hand went to Jeph’s lap the way Beni had tried to do to Arlen. ‘… I could be your wife. I would fill your farm with children,’ she promised. Jeph groaned.

Arlen felt nauseous and hot in the face. He gulped, tasting bile in his mouth. He wanted to scream their plan to Harl. The man had faced a coreling for his daughter, something Jeph would never do. He imagined Harl would punch his father. The image was not displeasing.

Jeph hesitated, then pushed Ilain away. ‘No,’ he said. ‘We’ll get Silvy to the Herb Gatherer tomorrow, and she’ll be fine.’

‘Then take me anyway,’ Ilain begged, falling to her knees.

‘I’ll … think about it,’ his father replied. Just then, Beni and Renna burst in from the barn. Arlen rose quickly, pretending he had just entered with them as Ilain hurriedly stood. He felt the moment to confront them slip past.

After putting the girls to bed and producing a pair of grimy blankets for Arlen and Jeph in the main room, Ilain drew a deep breath and went into her father’s room. Not long after, Arlen heard Harl grunting quietly, and the occasional muffled yelp from Ilain. Pretending not to hear it, he glanced over at Jeph, seeing him biting his fist.

Arlen was up before the sun the next morning, while the rest of the house slept. Moments before sunrise, he opened the door, staring at the remaining corelings impatiently as they hissed and clawed the air at him from the far side of the wards. As the last demon in the yard went misty, he left the house and went to the big barn, watering Missy and Harl’s other horses. The mare was in a foul temper, and nipped at him. ‘Just one more day,’ Arlen told her as he put her feed bag on.

His father was still snoring as he went back into the house and knocked on the doorframe of the room shared by Renna and Beni. Beni pulled the curtain aside, and immediately Arlen noted the worried looks on the sisters’ faces.

‘She won’t wake up,’ Renna, who was kneeling by Arlen’s mother, choked. ‘I knew you wanted to leave as soon as the sun rose, but when I shook her …’ She gestured towards the bed, her eyes wet. ‘She’s so pale.’

Arlen rushed to his mother’s side, taking her hand. Her fingers were cold and clammy, but her forehead burned to the touch. Her breathing came in short gasps, and the rotting stink of demon sickness was thick about her. Her bandages were soaked with brownish yellow ooze.

‘Da!’ Arlen cried. A moment later, Jeph appeared with Ilain and Harl close behind.

‘We don’t have any time to waste,’ Jeph said.

‘Take one’a my horses t’go with yours,’ Harl said. ‘Switch ’em when they tire. Push hard, and you should reach Mey by afternoon.’

‘We’re in your debt,’ Jeph said, but Harl waved the thought away.

‘Hurry, now,’ he said. ‘Ilain will pack you something to eat on the road.’

Renna caught Arlen’s arm as he turned to go. ‘We’s promised now,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll wait on the porch every dusk till you’re back.’ She kissed him on the cheek. Her lips were soft, and the feel of them lingered long after she pulled away.

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 hadn’t overheard what he thought he had. Maybe Jeph hadn’t hesitated in pushing Ilain away.

It was a tempting illusion, but Jeph shattered it a moment later. ‘What do you think of Harl’s younger daughter?’ he asked. ‘You spent some time with her.’ Arlen felt as if his father had just punched him in the stomach.

‘Renna?’ Arlen asked, playing innocent. ‘She’s okay, I guess. Why?’

‘I spoke to Harl,’ his father said. ‘She’s going to come live with us when we go back to the farm.’

‘Why?’ Arlen asked.

‘To look after your mam, help around the farm, and … other reasons.’

‘What other reasons?’ Arlen pressed.

‘Harl and I want to see if you two will get along,’ Jeph said.

‘What if we don’t?’ Arlen asked. ‘What if I don’t want some girl following me around all day asking me to play kissy with her?’

‘One day,’ Jeph said, ‘you might not mind playing kissy so much.’

‘So let her come then,’ Arlen said, shrugging his shoulders and pretending not to know what his father was getting at. ‘Why is Harl so eager to be rid of her?’

‘You’ve seen the state of their farm; they can barely feed themselves,’ Jeph said. ‘Harl loves his daughters very much, and he wants the best for them. And what’s best is marrying them while they’re 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 Harl’s farm starting in the fall. They’re hoping he and Beni will get along.’

‘I suppose Lucik didn’t have any choice, either,’ Arlen grumbled.

‘He’s happy to go, and lucky at that!’ Arlen’s father snapped, losing his patience. ‘You’re going to have to learn some hard lessons about life, Arlen. There are a lot more boys than girls in the Brook, and we can’t just fritter our lives away. Every year, we lose more to dotage and sickness and corelings. If we don’t keep children coming, Tibbet’s Brook will fade away just like a hundred other villages! We can’t let that happen!’

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 wasn’t real.

‘What do we do now?’ he asked finally.

‘We turn around,’ his father said, and the words cut Arlen like a knife. ‘We take her home and burn her. We try to go on. There’s still the farm and the animals to care for, and even with Renna and Norine to help us, there’s going to be some hard times ahead.’

‘Renna?’ Arlen asked incredulously. ‘We’re still taking her with us? Even now?’

‘Life goes on, Arlen,’ his father said. ‘You’re almost a man, and a man needs a wife.’

‘Did you arrange one for both of us?’ Arlen blurted.

‘What?’ Jeph asked.

‘I heard you and Ilain last night!’ Arlen screamed. ‘You’ve got another wife all ready! What do you care about Mam? You’ve already got someone else to take care of your thingie! At least, until she gets killed too, because you’re too scared to help her!’

Arlen’s 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. ‘Arlen, I’m sorry …!’ he choked, but the boy pulled away and jumped off the cart.

‘Arlen!’ Jeph cried, but the boy ignored him, running as hard as he could for the woods off to the side of the road.

3

A Night Alone 319 AR

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 couldn’t track him, but as Jeph’s calls faded, he realized his father wasn’t 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 couldn’t go back to the farm and pretend everything was all right. He couldn’t watch Ilain claim his mother’s 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 couldn’t run forever. He would have to find succour before dark, or the coming night would be his last.

Going back to Tibbet’s Brook was not an option. Whoever he sought succour from would drag him home by the ear the next day, and he’d be switched for the stunt with nothing to show.

Sunny Pasture, then. Unless Hog was paying them to carry something, almost no one from Tibbet’s Brook ever went there, unless they were Messengers.