Authors: Peter V. Brett
'Thank the Creator!' the Tender called when he caught sight of them. Vika, his wife, ran to embrace him as he hurried over.
'What happened'' Leesha asked.
'Refugees from Fort Rizon,' Jona said. 'They just started pouring in this morning, a couple hours past dawn. More arrive at every moment.'
'Where is the Deliverer'' a woman in the crowd cried. 'They said he was here!'
'The wards in the entire city failed'' Leesha asked.
'Impossible,' Erny said. 'Rizon has over a hundred hamlets, all individually warded. Why flee all this way''
'Wasn't the corelings we fled,' a familiar voice said. Leesha turned, her eyes widening.
'Marick!' she cried. 'What are you doing here'' The Messenger was as handsome as ever, but there were yellowed bruises on his face only partially obscured by his long hair and beard, and he favored one leg slightly as he approached.
'Made the mistake of wintering in Rizon,' Marick said. 'Usually a good idea; the cold doesn't bite so hard in the South.' He chuckled mirthlessly. 'Not this year.'
'If it wasn't demons, what happened'' Leesha asked.
'Krasians,' Marick said, spitting in the snow. 'Seems the desert rats got sick of eating sand and decided to start preying on civilized folk.'
Leesha turned to Rojer. 'Find Arlen,' she murmured. 'Have him come in secret and meet us in the back room of Smitt's Tavern. Go now.' Rojer nodded and vanished.
'Darsy. Vika,' Leesha said. 'Have the apprentices triage the wounded and bring them to the hospit in order of severity.'
The two Herb Gatherers nodded and hurried off.
'Jona,' Leesha said. 'Have your acolytes fetch stretchers from the hospit and help the apprentices.' Jona bowed and left.
Seeing Leesha giving direction, others drifted over. Even Smitt, the Town Speaker and innkeep, waited on her word.
'We can hold on food a moment,' Leesha told him, 'but these people need water and warm shelter immediately. Put up the wedding pavilions and any tents you can find, and have every spare hand you can find hauling water. If the wells and stream don't provide fast enough, put cauldrons on a fire and fill them with snow.'
'I'll see to it,' Smitt said.
'Since when does the whole Hollow hop to your commands'' Marick asked with a grin.
Leesha looked at him. 'I need to see to the wounded now, Master Marick, but I'll have many questions for you when I'm through.'
'I'll be at your disposal,' Marick said, bowing.
'Thank you,' Leesha said. 'It would help if you could gather the other leaders of your group who might have something to add to your story.'
'Of course,' Marick said.
'I'll settle them in the inn,' Stefny, Smitt's wife, said. 'Surely you could use a cold ale and a bite,' she told the Messenger.
'More than you could imagine,' Marick said.
There were broken bones to set and infections to treat, many from blistered feet that had burst and been left untreated as folk spent more than a week on the road, knowing that to fall behind the main group meant almost certain death. More than a few of the travelers had coreling wounds, as well, from crowding into hastily put-together circles. It was a wonder any had made it to Deliverer's Hollow at all. She knew from their tales that many had not.
There were several Herb Gatherers of varying skill among the refugees, and after a quick check of their own state, Leesha put them to work. None of the women complained; it was ever the lot of the Herb Gatherer to put aside her own needs for those of her charges.
'We would never have made it without Messenger Marick,' one woman said as Leesha treated her frostbitten toes. 'He rode ahead each day and warded campsites for our group to succor when the corelings came. Wouldn't have lasted a night without him. He even felled deer with his bow and left them on the road for us to find.'
By the time Rojer reappeared, the worst of the wounds had been treated. She left control of the hospit to Darsy and Vika and went with him to her office.
When the door closed behind them, Leesha slumped against Rojer, finally allowing her exhaustion to show. It was late in the afternoon, and she had been working for hours without a break, treating patients and fielding questions from apprentices and town elders alike. It would be dark in a few short hours.
'You need to rest,' Rojer said, but Leesha shook her head, filling a basin with water and splashing it on her face.
'No time for it now,' she said. 'Have we found shelter for everyone''
'Barely,' Rojer said. 'All told, there's more refugees than the entire population of Deliverer's Hollow twice over, and I've no doubt there will be more tomorrow. Folk have opened their homes, but Tender Jona still has people sleeping sitting up in his pews, just to keep a roof over them. If this keeps up, every inch of the greatward will be covered in makeshift tents by week's end.'
Leesha nodded. 'We'll worry over that come morning. Arlen is waiting at Smitt's''
'The
Painted Man
is there,' Rojer said. 'Don't call him Arlen in front of those people.'
'It's his name, Rojer,' Leesha said.
'I don't care,' Rojer snapped, surprising her with his vehemence. 'These people need something bigger than themselves to believe in, and right now it's him. No one is asking you to call him Deliverer.'
Leesha blinked, taken aback. 'I've gotten used to everyone leaping when I say
hop.
'
'Well you can trust me never to do that,' Rojer said.
Leesha smiled. 'I want it no other way. Come. Let's go see the Painted Man.'
The taproom of Smitt's Tavern was filled to capacity when Rojer and Leesha arrived, even though the new inn was twice the size it had been when it burned down the year previous.
Smitt nodded to them as they entered, and jerked his head toward the back room. They hurried through the crowd and ducked through the heavy door.
The Painted Man was in the room, pacing like an animal.
'I should be out hunting for more survivors before nightfall, not waiting on council meetings,' he said.
'We 'll be as swift as we can,' Leesha said, 'but it's best we do this together.'
The Painted Man nodded, though she could see his impatience in his clenching hands. Smitt entered a moment later, ushering in Marick, along with Stefny, Tender Jona, Erny, and Elona.
Marick stared at the Painted Man, though his hood was drawn and his tattooed hands were hidden in the voluminous sleeves of his robe.
'Are you'him'' Marick asked.
The Painted Man pulled back his hood, revealing his painted flesh, and Marick gasped.
'You the Deliverer, as they say'' Marick asked.
The Painted Man shook his head. 'Just a man who learned to kill demons.'
Jona snorted.
'Something caught in your throat, Tender'' the Painted Man asked.
'The other Deliverers never named themselves as such,' Jona said. 'They were all given the title by others.' The Painted Man scowled at him, but Jona only bowed his head.
'I guess it doesn't matter,' Marick said, though he sounded a little disappointed. 'I didn't really expect you to have a halo.'
'What happened'' the Painted Man asked.
'Twelve days ago, the Krasians sacked Fort Rizon,' Marick said. 'They came in the night, bypassed the hamlets, and took out the wall guards, opening the gates of the central city wide at the crack of dawn. We were all still in our beds when the killing started.'
'They came in the night'' Leesha asked. 'How is that possible''
'They've got warded weapons that kill demons,' Marick said, 'same as you Hollow folk. They talk like there ent nothing in the world more important than demon killing, and taking Rizon was just something to keep them busy till the sun set.'
'Go on,' the Painted Man pressed.
'Well,' Marick said, 'it's clear their eyes were on the central grain silos, because they took those first. Their warriors killed any man that resisted, and bent any woman that looked old enough to bleed.' He glanced at the women present, and his face flushed.
'It's no shock what men will do when they think they can get away with it,' Elona said bitterly. 'Get on with your tale, Messenger.'
Marick nodded. 'They must have killed thousands, that first morning, and took the city walls to keep the rest of us in. We were beaten, tied together, and dragged into warehouses like cattle.'
'How did you escape'' the Painted Man asked.
'At first I didn't think any of the desert rats spoke a civilized tongue,' Marick said. 'I know a couple of sand words I picked up from other Messengers, but it's mostly curses, not much to start a conversation with. I figured I was done for, but after a day, a fat one came who spoke Thesan like a native. He started rounding up the royals, landowners, and skilled laborers, bringing them to the Krasian duke. I was among those.'
'You saw their leader'' the Painted Man asked.
'Oh, I saw that big bastard all right,' Marick said. 'They brought me before him, bound and battered, and when he heard I was a Warder, he set me free like nothing had happened. Even gave me a purse of gold for my troubles! I think he meant for me to teach them our wards, but I was over the wall and out of the city at dawn the next morning.'
'Their leader,' the Painted Man pressed. 'What was he wearing''
Marick blinked. 'Open white robe and head rag,' he said, 'with black underneath, like their warriors wear. And he wore a crown; that's how I knew he was their duke.'
'A crown'' the Painted Man asked. 'Are you sure' He didn't just have a jewel set in his turban''
Marick nodded. 'I'm sure. It was gold, and covered in jewels and wards. Ripping thing must have been worth more than every other duke 's crown combined.'
'And this duke, did he speak our tongue'' the Painted Man asked.
'Better than some Angierians I know,' Marick said.
'What was his name'' the Painted Man asked.
Marick shrugged. 'Don't think anyone said it. They all called him some sand word. Shamaka, or somesuch. I figured it meant 'duke.' '
'Shar'Dama Ka'' the Painted Man asked.
'Ay.' Marick nodded. 'That was it.'
The Painted Man swore under his breath.
'What is it'' Leesha asked, but he ignored her, leaning in to the Messenger.
'Was he about this tall'' he asked, holding up a hand above his own head. 'With a forked, oiled beard and a sharp, hooked nose''
Marick nodded.
'Did he carry a warded spear'' the Painted Man asked.
'They all carried warded spears,' Marick said.
'You would remember this one,' the Painted Man said.
Marick nodded again. 'Metal, it was, point-to-butt. And covered in etched wards.'
The growl that issued from the Painted Man's throat was so feral that even Marick, usually fearless, took a step back.
'What is it'' Leesha asked again.
'Ahmann Jardir,' the Painted Man said. 'I know him.'
'What does this mean'' she asked, but the Painted Man waved the question away.
'It makes no difference now,' he said. 'Go on,' he told Marick. 'What happened next''
'As I said, I scaled the wall and fled the city the moment they set me free,' Marick said. 'The hamlets I passed through were half deserted by the time I arrived. When word of the attack reached them, the smart folk grabbed what they could and were on the road before the blood on the cobbles of the central city was dry. Those too weak to travel or too scared of the night stayed behind. I think more stayed than left, but there were still tens of thousands on the road.
'I bought a horse from an old fellow got left behind, and galloped off. I caught up to the folk on the road soon after. The groups were too large to stick together; no city could absorb so many. Most went to Lakton and its hamlets, where any with a hook and line can fill their belly, but the Jongleurs have had a lot to say about you,' he pointed to the Painted Man, 'and them that believed you were really the Deliverer come again flocked here. I needed to get back to Angiers and report to the duke, but I couldn't just leave folk on the road with so few to ward for them, so I offered up my services.'
'It was a good thing you did, Marick,' Leesha said, laying a hand on his arm. 'These people never would have made it without you. Go and take your ease out into the taproom while we discuss your news.'
'I have a room reserved for you upstairs,' Smitt added. 'Stefny will see you there.'
The Painted Man put his hood up as soon as the Messenger left. 'Daylight is fading. If there are more on the road, I need to make sure they see the dawn.'
Leesha nodded. 'Take Gared and as many Cutters as can sit a horse.'
'Get your cloak,' the Painted Man told Rojer. 'You're coming with us.' Rojer nodded, and they headed for the rear exit.
'You'll need Warders,' Erny said, pushing back his wire-framed glasses and rising from his seat. 'I'll go.'
Elona was on her feet instantly grabbing his arm. 'You'll do no such thing, Ernal.'