Peter Brett – The Painted Man (страница 20)

Those too old or young to fight the flames had prepared a great meal for the village, and they laid it out as the others sat, too exhausted to move, and stared at the smouldering ashes.

But the fires were out, the wounded bandaged and healing, and there were hours before sunset. The Tender’s words took the guilt from those relieved to be alive, and Smitt’s strong Hollow ale did the rest. It was said that Smitt’s ale could cure any woe, and there was much to cure. Soon the long tables rang with laughter at stories of those who had passed from the world.

Gared sat a few tables away with his friends Ren and Flinn, their wives, and his other friend Evin. The other boys, all woodcutters, were older than Gared by a few years, but Gared was bigger than all save Ren, and it seemed he would surpass even him before his growing was done. Of the group, Evin alone was unpromised, and many girls eyed him, despite his short temper.

The older boys teased Gared relentlessly, especially about Leesha. She wasn’t happy to be forced to sit with her parents, but sitting with Gared while Ren and Flinn made lewd suggestions and Evin picked fights was often worse.

After they had eaten their share, Tender Michel and Child Jona rose from the table, carrying a large platter of food to the Holy House, where Darsy looked after Bruna and the wounded. Leesha excused herself to help them. Gared spotted the move and rose to join her, but no sooner had she stood than she was swept off by Brianne, Saira, and Mairy, her closest friends.

‘Is it true what happened?’ Saira asked, pulling her left arm.

‘Everyone’s saying you knocked Darsy down and saved Hag Bruna!’ Mairy said, pulling her right. Leesha looked back helplessly at Gared, and allowed herself to be led away.

‘The grizzly bear can wait his turn,’ Brianne told her.

‘Yull come second to them girls even after yur married, Gared!’ Ren cried, causing his friends to roar with laughter and pound the table. The girls ignored them, spreading their skirts and sitting on the grass, away from the increasing noise, as their elders drained cask after cask.

‘Gared’s gonna be hearing that one awhile,’ Brianne laughed. ‘Ren bet five klats he won’t get to kiss you before dusk, much less a good grope.’ At sixteen, she was already two years a widow, but had no shortage of suitors. She said it was because she knew a wife’s tricks. She lived with her father and two older brothers, woodcutters, and was mother to them all.

‘Unlike some people, I don’t invite every passing boy to grope me,’ Leesha said, bringing a mock look of indignation from Brianne.

‘I’d let Gared grope if I was promised to him,’ Saira said. She was fifteen, with cropped brown hair and freckles on her chipmunk cheeks. She had been promised to a boy last year, but the corelings had taken him and her father in a single night.

‘I wish I was promised,’ Mairy complained. She was gaunt at fourteen years, with a hollow face and a prominent nose. She was full flowered, but despite the efforts of her parents, not yet promised. Elona called her scarecrow. ‘No man will want to put a child between those bony hips,’ she had sneered once, ‘lest the scarecrow crack in two when the babe breaks.’

‘It will happen soon enough,’ Leesha told her. She was the youngest of the group at thirteen, but the others seemed to centre on her. Elona said it was because she was prettier and better moneyed, but Leesha could never believe her friends so petty.

‘Did you really beat Darsy with a stick?’ Mairy asked.

‘It didn’t happen like that,’ Leesha said. ‘Darsy made some mistake, and Bruna started hitting her with her stick. Darsy tried to back away, and walked right into me. We both fell down, and Bruna kept hitting her until she ran off.’

‘If she’d hit me with a stick, I’da hit her right back,’ Brianne said. ‘Da says Bruna’s a witch, and she slaps stomachs with demons in her hut at night.’

‘That’s disgusting nonsense!’ Leesha snapped.

‘Then why’s she live so far from town?’ Saira demanded. ‘And how is it she’s still alive when her grandchildren are dead of old age?’

‘Because she’s an Herb Gatherer,’ Leesha said, ‘and you don’t find herbs growing in the centre of town. I helped her today, and it was amazing. I thought half the people brought to her were too hurt to live, but she saved every one.’

‘Did you see her cast spells on them?’ Mairy asked excitedly.

‘She’s not a witch!’ Leesha said. ‘She did it all with herbs and knives and thread.’

‘She cut people?’ Mairy said in disgust.

‘Witch,’ Brianne said. Saira nodded.

Leesha gave them all a sour look, and they quieted. ‘She didn’t just go around cutting people,’ Leesha said. ‘She healed them. It was … I can’t explain it. Old as she is, she never stopped working until she treated everyone. It was like she kept on by will alone. She collapsed right after she treated the last one.’

‘And that’s when you saved her?’ Mairy asked.

Leesha nodded. ‘She gave me the cure just before the coughing started. Really, all I did was brew it. I held her until the coughing stopped, and that’s when everyone found us.’

‘You touched her?’ Brianne made a face. ‘I bet she stunk of sour milk and weeds.’

‘Creator!’ Leesha cried. ‘Bruna saved a dozen lives today, and all you can do is mock!’

‘Goodness,’ Brianne quipped, ‘Leesha saves the hag, and suddenly her paps are too big for her corset.’ Leesha scowled. She was the last of her friends to bloom, and her breasts, or lack thereof, were a sore spot for her.

‘You used to say the same things about her, Leesh,’ Saira said.

‘Maybe so, but not any more,’ Leesha said. ‘She may be a mean old woman, but she deserves better.’

Just then, Child Jona came over to them. He was seventeen, but too small and slight to swing an axe or pull a saw. Jona spent most of his days penning and reading letters for those in town with no letters, which was almost everyone. Leesha, one of the few children who could read, often went to him to borrow books from Tender Michel’s collection.

‘I’ve a message from Bruna,’ he said to Leesha. ‘She wishes …’

His words were cut off as he was yanked backward. Jona was two years senior, but Gared spun him like a paper doll, gripping his robes and pulling him so close their noses touched.

‘I told you before about talking to those what arn’t promised to ya,’ Gared growled.

‘I wasn’t!’ Jona protested, his feet kicking an inch off the ground. ‘I just …!’

‘Gared!’ Leesha barked. ‘You put him down this instant!’

Gared looked at Leesha, then back to Jona. His eyes flicked to his friends, then back to Leesha. He let go, and Jona crashed to the ground. He scrambled to his feet and scurried off. Brianne and Saira giggled, but Leesha silenced them with a glare before rounding on Gared.

‘What in the Core is the matter with you?’ Leesha demanded.

Gared looked down. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s jus’… well, I ent gotten to talk to ya all day, and I guess I got mad when I saw ya talking to him.’

‘Oh, Gared,’ Leesha touched his cheek, ‘you don’t have to be jealous. There’s no one for me but you.’

‘Really?’ Gared asked.

‘Will you apologize to Jona?’ Leesha asked.

‘Yes,’ Gared promised.

‘Then yes, really,’ Leesha said. ‘Now go on back to the tables. I’ll join you in a bit.’ She kissed him, and Gared broke into a wide smile and ran off.

‘I suppose it’s something like training a bear,’ Brianne mused.

‘A bear that just sat in a briar patch,’ Saira said.

‘You leave him be,’ Leesha said. ‘Gared doesn’t mean any harm. He’s just too strong for his own good, and a little …’

‘Lumbering?’ Brianne offered.

‘Slow?’ Saira supplied.

‘Dim?’ Mairy suggested.

Leesha swatted at them, and they all laughed.

Gared sat protectively by Leesha, he and Steave having come over to sit with Leesha’s family. She longed for his arms around her, but it wasn’t proper, even promised as they were, until she was of age and their engagement formalized by the Tender. Even then, chaste touching and kisses were supposed to be the limit until their wedding night.

Still, Leesha let Gared kiss her when they were alone, but she held it at that, regardless of what Brianne thought. She wanted to keep tradition, so their wedding night would be a special thing they would remember forever.

And of course, there was Klarissa, who had loved to dance and flirt. She had taught Leesha and her friends to reel and braid flowers in their hair. An exceptionally pretty girl, Klarissa had her pick of suitors.

Her son would be three now, and still no man in Cutter’s Hollow would claim him as their own. It was broadly assumed that meant he was a married man, and over the months when her belly fattened, not a sermon had gone by where Tender Michel had failed to remind her that it was her sin, and that of those like her, that kept the Creator’s Plague strong.