The Daylight War

‘He’d have waited as long as it took to see us,’ Arlen said, again too low for any but Renna to hear.

The herald wore a fine fitted jacket and loose silken trousers of emerald green, tucked into high brown boots of kid leather. His half cape was brown, emblazoned with the ivy throne of Angiers. He swept it out with a flourish as he bowed to Renna, and the inside flashed with the bright motley colour she expected from a Jongleur.

‘I have never been so far as Tibbet’s Brook,’ he said, kissing her hand, ‘but perhaps I should rectify that, if the women there are as beautiful as you.’

Renna felt her face colour. ‘That’s enough of that,’ Arlen snapped.

‘Indeed,’ Hayes agreed, looking reproachfully at Jasin. ‘Please, be seated.’ He indicated settings for Arlen and Renna. Arther swept smoothly behind her and for a moment she nearly struck him until she realized he was simply pulling out the chair to slide it under her as she sat. The chair was padded with velvet. She had never sat on something so soft.

Franq clapped his hands, and acolytes appeared with wine bottles. The men – Arlen included – took their napkins off the table with a snap, placing them in their laps. Renna awkwardly did the same.

‘We have a wonderful menu tonight,’ Franq said. ‘Roast pheasant stuffed with apricot grain in a wine sauce and suckling pig slow-roasted over applewood with plum jelly.’ He turned to Renna. ‘Do you prefer red or white?’

‘Say again?’ Renna said.

Franq smiled. ‘Wine, child. What kind would you like?’

‘There’s more than one kind?’ Renna asked, and she felt her face colour as Jasin, Arther, and Franq laughed. ‘What’d I say?’ she murmured to Arlen under her breath.

Arlen looked ready to spit fire. ‘Nothing,’ he said, making no effort to keep his voice low. ‘They’re being rude, looking down over their fancy food and drink while folk a mile from here are eating weeds and thanking the Creator they have that much.’

Franq paled, glancing at the Tender before looking back at Arlen. ‘I meant no offence—’

Arlen ignored him, looking at Tender Hayes. ‘That what you teach your Children, Holiness? That it’s fair to mock regular folk? ’Cause where we come from, Tenders wear plain robes for a reason.’

Hayes’ jaw tightened. ‘It most certainly is not.’

‘Not how I see it,’ Arlen said. He looked back at Franq. ‘What was it you said about this Holy House? That it was mean? That it was not worthy?’

Franq had the look of a cornered deer. ‘I only meant that something more grand—’

‘You don’t know the meaning of the word,’ Arlen cut him off. ‘This Holy House is a symbol of the Hollowers’ strength. When all else was lost, this building stood strong. We put the wounded here, some in this very room, while their kith and kin stood outside and faced the night to protect them. Ent nothing mean about this place.’ He looked to Hayes. ‘But you’d tear it down and build something bigger, so people forget who they were before you came along, and forget the Tender whose House it was.’

Hayes’ face hardened at that. ‘Again with Jona! You’ve taken off your brown robe but still speak as a Holy Shepherd, telling us how our order is to be run. The count already promised that Jona’s wife would be allowed to see him, yet still you cause a scene outside in full view of the crowd, and again at my table.’

‘It was your scene outside,’ Arlen noted. He glanced at the others at the table. ‘Know you think us fools because we come from the hamlets, but I worked long years as a Messenger, and know politics when I see ’em. Stood in the graveyard and told all that I was neither Holy Man nor Heaven-sent, but that wasn’t enough for you. Had to push and make a show so folk think I’m in your flock,’ he glanced at Arther, Gamon, and Jasin, ‘while the Royals send their footmen through the back door to listen in and report back. Leave me out of your games. I hold to no Canon and swore no oath to the ivy throne.’

Renna leaned back in her seat, watching in amusement. No one paid her the slightest mind. The other men looked outraged, but Hayes held up a hand to calm them.

‘Nevertheless,’ Hayes said, ‘the ivy throne is sovereign in Angiers, and all within its borders are subject to its laws. Duke Rhinebeck and Shepherd Pether have decreed that Cutter’s Hollow is a Canonic holding, Mr Bales. If you reside here, you are subject to both the count’s jurisdiction and my own.’

‘Evejan law,’ Arlen said.

‘Eh?’ the Tender asked.

‘Religion and law are one in Krasia, as well,’ Arlen said. ‘Their holy book, the Evejah, is the basis for their entire culture, and as the Krasians conquer the southland, they press Evejan law on its people, forcing them to cover up and pray to Everam whether they like it or not. They rape the women and enslave the men, taking away their children to be indoctrinated fully. Even if they cease their advance now, in a generation everyone in their territory will be Evejan, quadrupling their numbers.’

‘Then you see why we must resist them utterly,’ Hayes said, ‘and reject this false god with a renewal of faith in the true Creator.’

‘In resisting them, you are becoming them,’ Arlen said. ‘And I won’t stand for it here in the Hollow. Spout all you like from the pulpit. If you can sway folk, that’s their choice. But you try some archaic nonsense like staking a fornicator out for the demons, I’ll break the stake over my knee and shove half through your door and the other half through the count’s.’

‘You wouldn’t!’ Franq growled.

‘You see if he don’t,’ Renna said.

‘How dare you!’ Arther shouted. Captain Gamon leapt to his feet, grabbing his spear. ‘By the authority of Count Thamos, I place you under arrest for treason …’

Arlen snorted, not even bothering to rise. He casually drew a ward in the air, and the blade of Gamon’s spear turned the grey-blue of a hazy sky. The air about the weapon began to shimmer, and both blade and shaft fogged and turned white as rime frost covered its length.

There was a creaking sound, and Gamon cried out and dropped the weapon, clutching his hand as if burned. Jasin leapt out of his chair as the spear struck the stone floor between them, shattering into a thousand pieces.

‘Aaah, Creator, my hand!’ Gamon shrieked.

‘Quit acting the fool and sit back down,’ Arlen said. He looked to one of the serving boys, staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed. ‘Bring the squire a bowl of cool water to soak his hand in.’ The boy ran off without so much as a glance to Hayes or Franq.

Hayes steepled his fingers. ‘So you think yourself above the law of both man and Creator? Is this your way of informing me that your speech this morning was a lie? That you really do believe you are the Deliverer?’

Arlen shook his head. ‘My way of informing you that I’m not some bumpkin you can push around. Came back to the Hollow because I’ve got work to do, not to pick a fight with you or the count. So long as you’re doing right by folk – and it seems for the most part you are – want us to be friends. But you been taking liberties, and need to know where the wards end. Got no interest in being a pawn in your politicking, and I’ll have satisfaction the next time one of you is fool enough to mock my promised.’