The Daylight War
Page 68

 Peter V. Brett

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
Leesha closed her eyes and took a breath. ‘I made a calculated decision with Ahmann, pondering all the variables. Your calculus was done solely with your cock.’
‘Calculus?’ Rojer laughed. ‘I grew up in a brothel, Leesha, I know all about that sort of maths.’
‘That is enough, Rojer!’ Leesha’s temper flared, and a bright ball of pain flared hot in her skull, giving her strength as she surged to her feet.
But Rojer refused to back down. ‘Or what? I’m getting tired of your holier-than-thou attitude, Leesha. You’re not the Duchess Mum of Angiers. I don’t have to do as you say, and I won’t have you acting better than me after whoring yourself to the demon of the desert.’
Gared rose to his feet, pointing at Rojer with his carving knife. ‘Can’t have you talking to Leesha like that, Rojer. Painted Man said to keep you safe, but I’ll scrub your mouth with soap, you say that again.’
A knife spun into Rojer’s hand. ‘Try it, you backwoods bumpkin, and you’ll have a knife in your eye.’
Gared blanched, and then his face narrowed into the look of an angry predator. Wonda had her bow strung in an instant, arrow nocked and ready. ‘You throw that knife, and I’ll—’
‘Stop it, all of you!’ Leesha shouted. ‘Wonda, put up your bow. Gared, sit back down.’ She whirled on Rojer. ‘And you, mind your ripping manners and remember that my “whoring” may be the only reason your stones remain attached!’
‘Leesha Paper!’ Erny barked, and all eyes turned. Erny was close to sixty, much older than his wife, but he looked older still. He was thin, with only a few wisps of grey hair atop his head. He wore wire-rimmed spectacles and his pale skin was almost translucent. A moment ago his head was down, looking ill as Elona harped at him, but now he met Leesha’s gaze and his eyes were sharp. ‘Is that how I raised you? You demand respect, and that’s your due, but you give it in return and tell honest word.’
Leesha felt her face go cold, and for a moment her headache was forgotten. Her father didn’t speak up often, and he took that tone even less, but when he did there was nothing for it but to obey, because he had the right of things.
‘I’m sorry, Rojer,’ she said. ‘I have an empty stomach and a splitting headache and I was out of line. The whole reason they sent those girls to you in the first place was because they think you can pass on your talent for charming demons to your sons. Not much chance of that if they kill you, or take your stones. If you were some khaffit or chin off the street caught sleeping with the Deliverer’s niece out of wedlock, you might have to worry. But after Inevera made such a show of Sikvah not being a virgin, I think it’s safe to say this was planned from the start.’
Rojer cocked his head. ‘What, like a trap?’
Leesha smiled wanly. ‘One you fell right into. The question is, what will happen now that it’s sprung?’
Elona snorted. ‘May be they’ll lock you in a harem for the rest of your life, breeding and training them an army of little fiddle wizards.’
Gared roared a laugh, slapping a gigantic paw on his knee. ‘Beats cuttin’ wood all day, ay?’
Rojer did not seem to share his enthusiasm, paling and beginning to pace again. He rubbed his chest, where his family medallion rested safely beneath his shirt.
‘Why is everyone ignoring the obvious answer?’ Elona said. ‘Idiots, you and my daughter, both. Just marry them, you nit.’
‘Even if I wanted to,’ Rojer said, ‘they’ll expect a dower worthy of them. I have nothing to offer.’
‘The only thing they want from you is your seedpods.’ She grabbed a handful of material at the crotch of her seated dress and gave it a meaningful shake. ‘You have a power no one has ever seen or heard of outside a Jak Scaletongue story, and they want to know if you can breed it. Jardir told you as much when he offered to find you brides in the first place. And who knows? Maybe he’s right, and it’s something in your blood that lets you charm demons. Can’t hurt to check.’
‘I couldn’t …’ Rojer said.
But Elona didn’t relent, her voice a lash that made the pain in Leesha’s head flare. ‘Couldn’t what? Accept the best marriage offer anyone’s ever heard of? Jardir is rich and powerful beyond belief. Sit next to me and shut up for ten minutes alone with Inevera and the girls, and you can have it all. Lands. Titles. Peasants to tax and rule. More gold than a Milnese mine.’
‘Stolen gold,’ Leesha said. ‘Stolen people. Stolen lands.’
Elona waved a dismissive hand. ‘Everything’s stolen in the end, land most of all. Those people it was taken from ent getting it back in any event, and Rojer’ll be a better lord than some Krasian.’
She turned back to Rojer. ‘And let us not forget daily bed rights to two beautiful women. Creator! They’ll even help you pick more! Do you think offers like that come every day? Believe me, boy,’ her eyes flicked to Erny, just for an instant, ‘they don’t.’
‘I—’ Rojer began.
Elona cut him off with a cruel grin. ‘Or do you prefer boys? Ay, maybe that’s why you chase my unattainable daughter instead of more willing lasses. No shame if you want a man to bend you now and again, but you should still accept and put a pair of brats in those girls. Just close your eyes and picture Gared for the deed.’
‘Ay, now!’ Gared cried.
‘I don’t prefer boys!’ Rojer snapped.
Leesha leaned forward, massaging her temples. ‘If I don’t eat soon, I may scream.’
‘Sharum break their fast late,’ a voice said, and Leesha turned to find Abban standing in the doorway. ‘It comes from sleeping in after staying up all night killing demons. But fear not. I will escort you to the Deliverer shortly.’
Leesha wondered how much he had overheard as the fat khaffit hobbled over to her on his camel-headed crutch. Wonda tensed as he reached into his robes, but Abban bowed slightly to her, pulling his hand free to show he held only a ripe red apple. Leesha knew then he had heard everything. She wouldn’t put it past Abban to have engineered the entire delay, just for the chance to listen in.
‘Thank you.’ Leesha took the apple and immediately bit into it, the first delicious wet crunch as welcome a medicine as any in her herb pouches. Like smell, her senses of taste and touch were heightened during an attack, and she closed her eyes to savour every chew.
‘Remember, mistress,’ Abban said in a low tone the others could not hear. ‘You may be a creature of calculation, but Ahmann is one of passion. His blood tells him right from wrong, and he reacts immediately and without remorse. It is a trait that serves him well as a warrior and leader of men, I imagine.’
‘What of it?’ Leesha asked.
‘It means the Deliverer believes that one day, you are fated to marry him. That it is Everam’s will. He may let you go now, but he will never stop pursuing you.
‘As for you, Jongleur,’ Abban continued, raising his voice and hobbling Rojer’s way, ‘I would worry less about the Deliverer and Damajah, and more about Hasik. If he learns you have lain with his daughter without marrying her honourably, he will consider it rape. The moment Ahmann turns his gaze elsewhere, he will return it tenfold on you, and your little knives might as well be silken kerchiefs, for all they will hinder him.’