The Demon Cycle Books 1-3 and Novellas: The Painted Man, The Desert Spear, The Daylight War plus The Great Bazaar and Brayan’s Gold and Messenger’s Legacy. Peter V. Brett
Bruna scowled.
‘I have an apprentice, Vika, who has almost completed her training,’ Leesha read, ‘as, your letters tell, do you. If you are not willing to accept a novice, please consider an exchange of adepts.’ Leesha gasped, and Marick broke into a knowing grin.
‘I didn’t tell you to stop reading,’ Bruna rasped.
Leesha cleared her throat. ‘Vika is most promising,’ she read, ‘and well equipped to see to the needs of Cutter’s Hollow, as well as look after and learn from wise Bruna. Surely Leesha, too, could learn much ministering to the sick in my hospit. Please, I beg, let at least one more benefit from wise Bruna before she passes from this world.’
Bruna was quiet a long while. ‘I will think on this a while before I reply,’ she said at last. ‘Go to your rounds in town, girl. We’ll speak on this when you return.’ To Marick, she said, ‘You’ll have a response tomorrow. Leesha will see to your payment.’
The Messenger bowed and backed out of the house as Bruna sat back and closed her eyes. Leesha could feel her heart racing, but she knew better than to interrupt the crone as she sifted through the many decades of her memory for a way to treat the boy. She collected her basket, and left to make her rounds.
Marick was waiting for her when Leesha came outside.
‘You knew what was in that letter all along,’ Leesha accused.
‘Of course,’ Marick agreed. ‘I was there when she penned it.’
‘But you said nothing,’ Leesha said.
Marick grinned. ‘I offered you a high-necked dress,’ he said, ‘and that offer still stands.’
‘We’ll see,’ Leesha smiled, holding out a pouch of coins.
‘Your payment,’ she said.
‘I’d rather you pay me with a kiss,’ he said.
‘You flatter me, to say my kisses are worth more than gold,’ Leesha replied. ‘I fear to disappoint.’
Marick laughed. ‘My dear, if I braved the demons of the night all the way from Angiers and back and returned with but a kiss from you, I would be the envy of every Messenger ever to pass through Cutter’s Hollow.’
‘Well, in that case,’ Leesha said with a laugh, ‘I think I’ll keep my kisses a little longer, in hopes of a better price.’
‘You cut me to the quick,’ Marick said, clutching his heart. Leesha tossed him the pouch, and he caught it deftly.
‘May I at least have the honour of escorting the Herb Gatherer into town?’ he asked with a smile. He made a leg and held out his arm for her to take. Leesha smiled in spite of herself.
‘We don’t do things so quickly in the Hollow,’ she said, eyeing the arm, ‘but you may carry my basket.’ She hooked it on his outstretched arm and headed towards town, leaving him staring after her.
Smitt’s market was bustling by the time they reached town. Leesha liked to select early, before the best produce was gone, and place her order with Dug the butcher before making her rounds.
‘Good morn, Leesha,’ said Yon Grey, the oldest man in Cutter’s Hollow. His grey beard, a point of pride, was longer than most women’s hair. Once a burly cutter, Yon had lost most of his bulk in his latter years, and now leaned heavily on his cane.
‘Good morn, Yon,’ she replied. ‘How are the joints?’
‘Pain me still,’ Yon replied. ‘’Specially the hands. Can barely hold my cane some days.’
‘Yet you find it in you to pinch me whenever I turn round,’ Leesha noted.
Yon cackled. ‘To an old man like me, girlie, that’s worth any pain.’
Leesha reached into her basket, pulling forth a small jar. ‘It’s well that I made you more sweetsalve, then,’ she said. ‘You’ve saved me the need to bring it by.’
Yon grinned. ‘You’re always welcome to come by and help apply,’ he said with a wink.
Leesha tried not to laugh, but it was a futile effort. Yon was an old lech, but she liked him well enough. Living with Bruna had taught her that the eccentricities of age were a small price to pay for having a lifetime of experience to draw upon.
‘You’ll just have to manage yourself, I’m afraid,’ she said.
‘Bah!’ Yon waved his cane in mock irritation. ‘Well, you think on it,’ he said. He looked to Marick before taking his leave, giving a nod of respect. ‘Messenger.’
Marick nodded back, and the old man moved off.
Everyone at the market had a kind word of greeting for Leesha, and she stopped to ask after the health of each, always working, even while shopping.
Though she and Bruna had plenty of money from selling flamesticks and the like, no one would take so much as a klat in return for her selections. Bruna asked no money for healing, and no one asked money of her for anything else.
Marick stood protectively close as she squeezed fruit and vegetables with a practised hand. He drew stares, but Leesha thought it was as much because he was with her as it was the presence of a stranger at market. Messengers were common enough in Cutter’s Hollow.
She caught the eye of Keet – Stefny’s son, if not Smitt’s. The boy was nearly eleven, and looked more and more like Tender Michel with each passing day. Stefny had kept her side of the bargain over the years, and not spoken ill of Leesha since she was apprenticed. Her secret was safe as far as Bruna was concerned, but for the life of her, Leesha could not see how Smitt failed to see the truth staring at him from the supper table each night.
She beckoned, and Keet came running. ‘Bring this bag to Bruna once your chores allow,’ she said, handing him her selections. She smiled at him and secretly pressed a klat into his hand.
Keet grinned widely at the gift. Adults would never take money from an Herb Gatherer, but Leesha always slipped children something for extra service. The lacquered wooden coin from Angiers was the main currency in Cutter’s Hollow, and would buy Rizonan sweets for Keet and his siblings when the next Messenger came.
She was ready to leave when she saw Mairy, and moved to greet her. Her friend had been busy over the years; three children clung to her skirts now. A young glassblower named Benn had left Angiers to find his fortune in Lakton or Fort Rizon. He had stopped in the Hollow to ply his trade and raise a few more klats before the next leg of the journey, but then he met Mairy, and those plans dissolved like sugar in tea.
Now Benn plied his trade in Mairy’s father’s barn, and business was brisk. He bought bags of sand from Messengers out of Fort Krasia, and turned them into things of both function and beauty. The Hollow had never had a blower before, and everyone wanted glass of their own.
Leesha, too, was pleased by the development, and soon had Benn making the delicate components of distilleries shown in Bruna’s books, allowing her to leach the strength from herbs and brew cures far more powerful than the Hollow had ever seen.
Soon after, Benn and Mairy wed, and before long, Leesha was pulling their first child from between Mairy’s legs. Two more had followed in short order, and Leesha loved each as if it were her own. She had been honoured to tears when they named their youngest after her.
‘Good morning, rascals,’ Leesha said, squatting down and letting Mairy’s children fall into her arms. She hugged them tightly and kissed them, slipping them pieces of candy wrapped in paper before rising. She made the candy herself, another thing she had learned from Bruna.
‘Good