The Daylight War by Peter V. Brett
‘Honest word,’ he said, his voice tightened to a squeak, and Renna laughed.
Easier than expected, Arlen thought as Renna released him. He could smell the emotions warring within her, heightened by the magic. For the last week, she’d kept better control of her temper than since she first tasted the magic on the road from Tibbet’s Brook, months ago.
His mam might have said, ‘Married life suits her’, but it had as much to do with the revelation that he knew all along that she was eating demon flesh. He felt lighter himself after letting go the weight of that lie. He kept silent at first out of respect, thinking she would tell him and was just waiting for the right chance. But as the days and weeks passed, he realized that wasn’t it at all.
It became a test to see if she ever admitted it without being caught. A test of her judgement, and her love. A test of how much he could trust her. Renna had a lifetime of bad decisions behind her. She was supposed to be starting fresh, but day by day she built on a lie.
It was only now, having confronted and forgiven her, that he understood how stubborn he had been. Too proud to reach out to someone that needed him until she proved … what? Arlen’s past was hardly without bad decisions, and he had never hesitated to keep his own counsel. What right did he have to judge her for doing the same?
‘What?’ Renna asked, and Arlen realized he’d been staring at her.
‘Nothing,’ he said, putting a hand to her cheek and moving in to kiss her deeply. ‘Think maybe married life just suits me.’ He smiled, and her scent filled with love.
He turned away quickly, wanting to hold that sight and scent in his mind. Even if he’d trusted himself not to spoil it, there was no more time.
He moved over to where Evin Cutter, Yon Gray, and a pair of Wooden Soldiers stood with the horses. Shadow paced nearby, and the horses, even Evin’s own, shifted nervously. Only Rockslide, Twilight Dancer, and Promise held their ground, watching the giant wolfhound the way a dog might watch a cat. Even a nightwolf was no match for an Angierian mustang.
Gared and Captain Gamon joined him, mounting up at his nod. Arlen was used to towering above everyone when mounted on Twilight Dancer, but now Gared loomed over even him. The baron and the giant stallion still regarded each other warily, but in battle they were a terror to behold. Arlen had seen in their auras how people looked up to Gared, trusted him, and whatever else he might see in the baron, Arlen did not think he would let them down in the days to come.
Leesha, Rojer, and the count came soon after, followed by Rojer’s wives and their silent bodyguard. They would wait in the graveyard with the others as scouting parties like Arlen’s patrolled the border, waiting to see where they would be needed.
Arlen could tell Thamos grated at that, and he smiled. The count was flawed as any man, but he had been a good leader to the Hollow. The prince was a skilled warrior when his courage was roused, but he would be more trouble than he was worth as a scout. There would be battle enough for him if a charge of his heavy horse was required.
‘Good luck,’ Leesha said. As hard as she was for him to read, he could see in Leesha, too, a fierce desire to come with them. She was unafraid, and thought herself better suited than most to assess the situation at the border. She was right, but her skills at healing were worth far more this night. He was ready to argue with her – for all the good it would do. When Leesha Paper decided to do a thing, all the Core couldn’t stop her.
But the argument never came. Whatever her heart wanted, Leesha knew she was of better use readying the hospit and waiting to see where the fighting was thickest.
Rojer stepped up next. ‘Still sure you don’t need me to come along?’ His voice had the same steel he used when playing the part of Marko Rover, the legendary fearless traveller. It sounded to all involved that this had been an ongoing argument between them over the last week, though in truth this was the first time they had spoken of it.
Arlen met Rojer’s eyes and shrugged, giving no sign that he saw the show for what it was. ‘Come if you want, but there ent much point. No telling which patrol will find something. Best you stay here and wait for the signal. Expect there’ll be plenty to keep us all busy soon enough.’
The signal was some of Leesha’s best flamework, given to each of the patrols. Rockets that would shriek and put a bright streak in the night sky, leading the reserves to where they were needed. The rockets were specially coloured and marked to dictate the size of the threat and if there were wounded in need.
But then Rojer surprised him. ‘No, I’ll come. Dancer’s carried the both of us before.’
Amanvah put her hand on his shoulder. ‘Husband …’
‘The jiwah will be silent!’ Rojer kept his back to the women, but turned his head halfway, addressing them in periphery in the manner Krasian men often did to remind women of their place. Arlen blinked, shocked at how quickly the Jongleur had assimilated their culture. ‘You will both wait here with the others while I join the patrol.’
Disciplined though they were, the women could not hide the flare of indignation in their scents at being spoken to like common dal’ting. Rojer’s scent said he knew he would pay for the words, but he was still just reciting lines.
Amanvah turned to Enkido, her fingers a blur. Arlen knew something of Krasian hand codes from his time in the Maze, but this was much more complex. Where Sharum used a few quick commands, Amanvah seemed to be having a whole conversation. The big eunuch occasionally gave the sign for nie, attempting to refuse, but Amanvah was insistent. At last, the eunuch bowed and walked over to Rojer. He knelt and put his head to the ground, then stood, the act of a warrior swearing his life to protect his kai’Sharum.
But Rojer shook his head. ‘The Damajah tasked you with protecting her blood, Enkido. You will stay with my wives.’
‘Kaval, then,’ Amanvah said through gritted teeth.
Rojer laughed, but it, too, was a calculated thing. ‘After he tried to kill me? Not a chance. I can take care of myself. Besides,’ he held up his fiddle, ‘if I get into trouble, you’ll know.’
Arlen had noted the connection before, like a sparkling thread in the air connecting the fiddle’s chinrest to one of Amanvah’s earrings. Once the sun set, she would hear whatever was spoken near Rojer, and apparently he knew it. Interesting.
Arlen leapt astride Twilight Dancer and held down a hand. Rojer took it, and he easily lifted the Jongleur up behind him.
Amanvah stepped forward, holding out a mask made from coloured silk stitched to match the shifting tones of his motley. There were mind wards embroidered into the silk, as well as those for wardsight.
‘It was to be a Waning gift,’ Amanvah said, ‘to help keep our honoured husband safe. Wear it always.’ Her scent was honest. Whatever motivations the Krasian women might have – and Arlen knew they had many – there could be no doubt they loved him.
As Rojer tied on the silk mask, his Jongleur’s mask slipped. ‘Was I supposed to get you something?’
Amanvah shook her head. ‘Wives give Waning gifts to their husband. His gift is to come home alive, honour and spear intact.’
Arlen could smell Rojer’s fear, but his Jongleur’s mask was back in place. He laughed, grabbing at his crotch. ‘Ay, I’ll keep it safe.’
Amanvah was not amused. She sniffed and turned on her heel, storming off with Sikvah and Enkido in tow. Rojer stared after them. Arlen turned Twilight Dancer sharply, whipping his eyes away as he led the group down the road.
‘You can apologize when you get back,’ he said, too low for the others to hear. ‘Ent nothing gonna hurt you with two Bales and Gared Cutter beside you.’
Rojer glanced at Gared, and something passed between them. Gared smelled angry and Rojer ashamed.
Wonderful, Arlen thought, and kicked Twilight Dancer’s flanks, leading the group to the border at a gallop.
‘Why here?’ Renna asked, as they rode into the borough of Newhaven.
Less than a month ago, Arlen and Renna had found the Cutters cl
When Prince Thamos rode south to take control of the Hollow, followed by hundreds of soldiers, carts laden with supplies, and herds of livestock, hundreds had packed up and followed. Some even left the crowded city and hamlets, hoping for a better life in the Hollow.
‘I was going to attack the Hollow, this is where I’d do it,’ Arlen said.
There were a few partially constructed homes, but the men and women of Newhaven had focused most of their labour building streets, walls, and fences to form its greatward – the last in the net surrounding Hollow County. Each greatward was a forbidding independent of the others, but when they linked their power was shared, allowing those boroughs under direct assault to Draw from those that were still safe, particularly the powerful greatward of Cutter’s Hollow, nestled protectively at the centre of the net.
The greatward had only come alive the past night. The Haveners cheered when the first demons tested it and were thrown back, folk dancing in the glowing streets.
Arlen knew it was a fragile thing. The greatward of Cutter’s Hollow was formed by cobbled streets, poured crete, thick stands of ancient trees, large buildings, and a diverted stream that formed a small lake. Newhaven’s greatward was formed by roads of packed soil, thick bushes, wooden fences, and freshly planted farmland. Partial buildings, walls of piled stone, dirt ramparts, and a few old stands of trees added strength to the ward, but it would be scant protection if the demons set fires to burn the wood away and hurled a few heavy stones at key structures. Even a small force of corelings led by a mind could penetrate the greatward and come pouring into the streets of Newhaven.
‘Maybe they know it,’ Renna said. ‘Maybe they’re counting on you being here while they strike the opposite side of the county.’
Arlen shrugged. ‘Won’t lie and say I’m not thinking the same, but what else can we do? Got scouts all over the county with flamework. They put up a signal and I can be there before the rockets burn out. Till then …’
‘We guard the weak spot,’ Gared said.
Arlen looked at the Haveners, many of them too young or too old to be much help in pitched battle, nonetheless standing with spears and hastily warded shields, ready to defend their new home. Others were ready in bucket lines to douse fires, and even as the sun set, the strongest men continued to bend their backs in the dirt, every shovelful they added to the ramparts strengthening the greatward.
There was a hush as the sun finally dipped beneath the horizon, sending a sweeping blanket of darkness over the land. The streets of Newhaven began to glow softly as the greatward began to Draw upon the power venting from the Core. It was easy enough to see in town, but the gloom crept right up to the border.
‘The corespawn could be rising right in front of us and we’d never know,’ Gamon said.
Gared shook his head. ‘They ent. Leesha warded up my helmet special to see in the dark. Can’t make heads or hinds of most of what I see, but demons glow like torches. They were there, I’d see ’em.’ Rojer nodded, his new mask telling him much the same.
‘Takes getting used to,’ Renna said, ‘but you’re right. Ent no demons close by.’
‘Maybe they ent comin’ this month,’ Evin ventured, but just then Shadow let out a low growl, and Arlen could see the fear creep into the auras of his companions. All save Renna, whose aura became eager – hungry.
‘They’re out there,’ she said, ‘but not close. Can smell ’em.’
‘They are weakest during the rising,’ Captain Gamon said. ‘It makes sense for them to rise out of range of our bows.’
Arlen nodded, though it gave him no comfort. He took a deep breath, Drawing a touch of magic from beyond his field of vision, tasting it. There were indeed demons massing in the distance. More than he had ever sensed in one place, but still less than expected.
A moment later the sounds of splintered trees and torn soil began to sound for all to hear. ‘They’re coming!’ someone shouted. The Haveners grew fearful, gripping their weapons and peering vainly into the darkness. Some lost their nerve entirely, fleeing for their homes and locking the doors … for all the good it would do.
‘Deserting traitors!’ Gamon growled. ‘I should …’
‘You should close your mouth and keep your eyes in front,’ Arlen said. ‘Fighting’s your job. These are just scared folk. Won’t help anyone to turn on our own with demons at the wards.’
The captain managed to keep his outward composure, but his aura showed outrage at being scolded by a commoner he – and many of the count’s most trusted advisors – believed was a threat to his master’s rule. Arlen had no desire to stoke that fire, but needed to make sure Gamon – and his men – knew their place. The captain’s aura said he would do his duty and obey. For now, that was enough.
‘Should we send out the signal?’ the captain asked.
Arlen shook his head. ‘Not yet. Could be a trick.’
The cacophony grew louder, becoming an ever-present background roar, much like the inside of a noisy tavern. It went on for some time, but still no demons approached. Rojer, Gared, and Renna leaned forward, straining their wardsight, but even Arlen could see no sign of their glow.
Are they using magic to mask their approach?
‘Wish they’d just attack and have done.’ The sound had grown so loud Rojer had to shout to be heard.
‘Just trying to rattle us,’ Gared said.
‘It’s working,’ Rojer said.
‘Keep calm.’ Arlen drew a ward so the words were clear without being shouted. The others relaxed slightly at his tone. He wished it was as simple to ease the writhing in his own gut.
His nostrils flared, catching an acrid scent. Moments later, smoke began to drift from the woods, choking the defenders and fogging their vision as it reflected a growing orange light from within the trees. Even Arlen’s wardsight became muddled and blurry.
‘Tryin’ to smoke us out?’ Gared coughed.
‘More likely cover for an attack,’ Gamon said.
Arlen said nothing as he Drew again, sensing a small number of flame demons approaching through the smoke, gleefully setting everything in their path alight.
Normally, wood demons would keep the flame demons in check, killing any that entered the forest. Under the influence of a mind, though, wood drones would instantly yield their territory, leaving the flame demons to create a blaze that could kill half the Hollow without the demons having to lift a talon.
Firespit could not penetrate the greatward, and there were firebreaks along the border against the non-magical fires it kindled in the heavily wooded area, but no warding could protect the Haveners from choking to death on the smoke.
‘Gared’s right.’ Arlen searched the sky, but there were no other signs of smoke. ‘They’re doing it here, because the wind’s right.
‘Ready bows!’ Arlen cried. The Haveners quickly complied. After living off the land for so long, most of the Hollowers could shoot, and many were skilled hunters. So many, in fact, that there hadn’t been enough warded arrows to go around. The smiths used moulds now, but could still only make them so quickly. In the end, each archer had been given a mere three warded arrowheads. Some had copied the symbols onto the heads of the rest of the arrows in their quivers, but the Hollowers’ warding skills varied widely. Arlen expected less than half of them would even work, and those that did at less than half strength.
Every shot had to count.
Yon, Evin, and the Wooden Soldiers dismounted, stringing their bows as well. They carried full warded quivers, with more arrows on their mounts. All were expert shots, but even their skill was useless in the smoke and darkness.
Arlen sketched wards of sound, making his voice carry all along
He paused. ‘And that means stepping off the greatward and into the smoke. Everyone make sure your mind wards are in place, and your best arrows nocked.’
‘No ripping way!’ one man cried. Most of the Haveners echoed his sentiment. Their collective aura flared with fear.
Surprisingly, it was Gared who stepped in. ‘Din’t have no greatward in the Battle of Cutter’s Hollow!’ the giant Cutter boomed. ‘We start hidin’ behind them now, Hollow’s already lost. You want to fight for your homes, it means steppin’ out into the naked night! Otherwise, go hide in yur beds and wait to get et!’
Arlen smiled as the fear in the crowd’s aura began a shift to determination. He looked to Gared, filled with fanatical trust in Arlen. ‘Thank you, General. Couldn’t have said it better myself.’ Gared’s aura … blushed.
‘Need you to lead them out, Gar,’ he said. ‘I’ve a card up my sleeve, but ironically, I need to be standing on the greatward to play it.’
‘I-what-ically?’ Gared asked. Then he shook his head, the confusion in his aura vanishing. ‘Dun’t matter. You say march into the Core, I’ll do it double-time.’
He clapped a hand on Gared’s shoulder. ‘The flame demons are still a ways off in the woods. Need to get in close and take them by surprise. Ent got time nor arrows to waste.’
Gared coughed. ‘Bows ent gonna be much good in all that smoke. How are we supposed to see what we’re shootin’?’
Arlen slipped down from his own saddle, feeling the thrum of the greatward beneath his bare feet. ‘When you’re in place I’ll show you your targets. Make sure no one fires till I give the word.’
Gared nodded, leading the rest of the scouts and the best archers of Newhaven out into the gloom. They hadn’t gone far before, one by one, they vanished into the smoke.