The Desert Spear
Page 71

Cobie nodded, looking in her eyes. “I might,” he said, “if a girl took her chances on me.”
Renna leaned in and kissed him on the mouth. Cobie’s eyes widened a moment, but then he kissed her back, enveloping her in his strong arms.
“I know a wife’s tricks,” Renna whispered, pulling down her shift to expose her breasts. “I seen Beni and Lucik at it plenty of times. I could be a good wife.” Cobie groaned, nuzzling her bosom as his hands ran up her legs.
There was a crash from behind, startling them both.
“What in the Core is going on here?!” Harl demanded, grabbing Renna by the hair and pulling her off Cobie. In his free hand, he held his long hunting knife, sharp as a razor. He threw Renna aside and put the point up to Cobie’s throat.
“We…we were just…” Cobie stuttered, drawing back as far as he could, but his back was against the wall of the stall, and there was nowhere to go.
“I ent no fool, boy,” Harl said. “I know what you were ‘just’! You think because I give you succor behind my wards, you can go and treat my daughter like some Angierian whore? I orta gut you right here.”
“Please!” Cobie begged. “It ent like that! I really like Renna! I want her hand!”
“’Spect you wanted more than that,” Harl growled, pressing the point in and drawing a drop of blood from Cobie’s throat. “You think that’s how it works? Come stick a girl, then ask for her hand?”
Cobie pulled his head back as far as he could, tears and sweat mixing on his face.
“That’s enough!” Lucik cried, grabbing Harl’s arm and pulling the knife away. Harl whirled to his feet, and the two men stood glaring at each other.
“You wouldn’t say that if it were your daughter,” Harl said.
“That may be,” Lucik said, “but I ent gonna let you kill a man in fronta my boys, either!”
Harl glanced back, seeing Cal and Jace watching wide-eyed from the house door while Renna cried in Beni’s arms. Some of the anger went out of him, and his shoulders slumped.
“Fine,” he said. “Renna, you’re sleeping in my room tonight, so’s I can keep an eye on you. And you,” he pointed his knife at Cobie again, who went rigid with fright, “you so much as look at my girl again, and I’ll cut yer stones off and feed ’em to the corelings.”
He grabbed Renna by the arm and dragged her along as he stormed into the house.
Renna was still shaking when Harl threw her down on the bed. She had pulled her shift back in place, but it seemed woefully inadequate, and she could feel her father’s eyes on her.
“This is what you do when we have a visitor in the barn?” Harl snapped at her. “I bet half the town is laughing behind my back!”
“I never!” Renna said.
“Oh, I’m supposed to believe that, now?” Harl sneered. “I saw the way you paraded around half dressed for him today. Reckon the hogs aren’t all that’s grunting in the barn when the messenger boy’s about.”
Renna had no reply, sniffling as she pulled the blanket around her bare shoulders.
“Now yer shy and trying to cover?” Harl asked. “Mite late, you ask me.” He undid his overalls and slung them over the bedpost, snatching the edge of the blanket and sliding in beside her. Renna shuddered.
“Quit yer whining and get some sleep, girl,” Harl said. “Another of yer sisters up and deserted us, and there’ll be extra chores for both of us from now on.”
Renna woke early, finding her father snuggled close with an arm over her. She shivered with revulsion, easing out of his grasp and leaving him snoring as she fled the room.
Remembering Beni’s advice, she tore a long strip from the sheet on her pallet, wrapping the cloth around her chest several times, binding her breasts tight. When she was done, she looked down and sighed. Even flattened, no one would ever mistake her for a boy.
She dressed quickly, lacing her dress loosely to hide her curves and tying her long brown hair in an unkempt knot.
The boys stirred as she put the porridge on and laid bowls on the table. By the time the sun rose, the whole house was bustling, and Lucik sent the boys out to their morning chores one last time.
Cobie was gone before breakfast was ready, but Renna supposed it was just as well. Harl might not deny a man succor, but that didn’t mean he would share his table. She wished she’d had a chance to apologize for his actions, and for hers. She’d ruined things for both of them.
After morning chores, Harl hitched the cart and drove them all up through Town Square to Boggin’s Hill for the cremation. It was afternoon by the time they arrived, and by then there was a big gathering on the hill. Most everyone in Tibbet’s Brook drank Boggin’s Ale, and many came to pay their respects as Fernan Boggin was burned.
The Holy House crowned the hill, and Tender Harral welcomed everyone warmly. He was a big man, not yet fifty, with powerful arms reaching out from the rolled sleeves of his brown robe. “Your da was a good friend, and a good man,” he told Lucik, wrapping him in a tight hug. “We’ll all miss him.”
Harral gestured to the great doors. “Go on inside and sit in the front pew with your mam.” The Tender smiled at Renna, winking at her for some reason as she passed.
“Looks like the ingrate’s come down from hiding,” Harl muttered as they slid into the pew behind Lucik, Beni, and the boys. Renna followed his gaze to see her eldest sister Ilain a few rows back. She stood with Jeph, Norine Cutter, and her children. They had all gotten so big!
“Don’t even think about it,” Harl muttered, grabbing her arm and squeezing hard as she moved to go and greet them. Harl had never forgiven Ilain for running off, though it was near fifteen years gone, and meant that he never knew his grandchildren by her.
“That sumbitch got a lot of nerve, coming here,” Harl muttered, glaring at Jeph. “Another corespawned thief, thinking just because I give them succor, they can run off with one of my girls. Just as well you didn’t end up married to that good-for-nothing son of his.”
“Arlen wasn’t good for nothing,” Renna said sadly, remembering how he had kissed her when they were children. She’d admired him from afar for years, and being promised to him had seemed a dream come true. She had always refused to believe he’d been cored, but if he hadn’t, why didn’t he come back for her?
“What’s that, girl?” Harl asked, distracted.
“Nothing,” Renna said.
The ceremony went on, with Harral singing the praises of Fernan Boggin as he painted wards on the tarp wrapping the body to protect Fernan’s spirit as it made its way to the Creator.
When it was done, they carried the body out to the pyre Harral had built, and laid him to rest as the fire burned. Renna drew wards in the air along with everyone else, praying that Fernan’s soul would escape this demon-infested world as the flames consumed his body.
On the other side of the fire, Ilain stared sadly at her. She raised a hand to wave, and Renna started to cry.
People began to drift off as the fire burned down, some to Meada Boggin’s house, where she had refreshments ready for her husband’s mourners, and others beginning the trek back to their homes. Some had come from a ways off, and the corelings rose no later on funeral days.