speak to the owner of one of the carts, pointing.
‘That will practically put us in the midden!’ she complained.
‘You want the midden, or a coreling’s belly?’ Varley replied.
It was almost dark when Renna returned to Arlen. Some of the patients in the makeshift hospit seemed to be resting more comfortably, but many still suffered horribly. Arlen knelt by a cot, holding a young girl’s hand. Her other arm ended before the elbow in a bandage soaked through with brownish yellow pus. Half her face was scabbed and oozing from firespit burns, still angry and red. Her skin had a grey pallor, and her breathing was shallow. Her eyes were closed.
‘Demon fever,’ Arlen said without looking up at her approach. ‘Flame demon bit her arm off and left an awful infection. Gave her what cures I know, but the sickness is far enough along I doubt it’ll even slow.’
The pain in his voice cut at her, but she embraced the feeling and let it pass. There was work to be done still.
Arlen looked out at the others in the sick tent. ‘Might be I saved a couple, but I’m out of herbs and most are beyond my skill in any event.’ He sighed. ‘In the sunlight, at least.’
‘Your rooster strutting this afternoon was bad enough,’ Renna said. ‘You start healing folk in the night and there’ll be no end to this Deliverer business.’
Arlen looked at her, and she saw his face was streaked with tears. ‘What would you have me do? Leave these folk to die?’
Renna looked at him, and her resolve weakened. ‘Course not. Just sayin’ there’s a price.’
‘Always a price, Ren,’ Arlen said. ‘This is all my fault.’ He swept his hand out over the Oatingers’ camp. ‘Made this happen.’
Renna raised an eyebrow. ‘How’s that? You drove these people from their homes?’
Arlen shook his head. ‘Woke the demon that did. Never should have brought the spear to Krasia. Never should have trusted Jardir.’
‘What spear? Who’s Jardir?’ Renna asked.
‘Mind demon was willing to kill to answer those questions,’ Arlen said. ‘Sure you want to know?’
‘Killin’ is all demons ever do,’ Renna said, and pointed to the mind demon ward painted in blackstem on her forehead. ‘And those bigheaded bastards ent ever gettin’ inside my skull again.’
Arlen nodded. ‘Jardir is the leader of the Krasian people. Met him a long time ago, and we became friends. Night,
friends
don’t even cover it. Taught me half what I know, and saved my life more’n once. Couldn’t have loved him more he was my own brother.’ Arlen clenched a fist. ‘And all along, he had a ripping knife to my back.’
‘What happened?’ Renna asked.
‘Bought a black market map to a lost city in the desert, said to be the home of Kaji,’ Arlen said.
‘What’s
black
market
?’ Renna asked. ‘They only open at night?’
Arlen smiled, but there was little humour in it. ‘Guess you could say that.
Black
market
means the people I bought it from stole it.’
Renna frowned. ‘That don’t sound like the Arlen Bales I know.’
‘Ent proud of it,’ Arlen said, ‘but had dealings with a lot of shady folk since I left Tibbet’s Brook. Folk to make what Varley’s doin’ seem honest. When you’re out beyond the wards, sometimes shady folk are all there are.’
Renna grunted. ‘So you got a map to this Kaji place. Then what?’
‘Kaji ent a place,’ Arlen said. ‘He was a man. The last general from the demon wars. The Deliverer, if you believe such things.’
Renna laughed. ‘You, Arlen Bales, went huntin’ the Deliverer? Now I know you’re spinning an ale story.’
‘Wasn’t hunting the
Deliverer
,’ Arlen snapped. ‘Was hunting his
wards
. And I found ’em, Ren. Deliverer or no, I found Kaji’s tomb and rescued his spear. The ancient battle wards, means to fight the corelings, brought back to the world! Took it to Jardir, and he had the nerve to say I
stole
it. That it belonged to
him
. Offered to make him a copy, down
‘That will practically put us in the midden!’ she complained.
‘You want the midden, or a coreling’s belly?’ Varley replied.
It was almost dark when Renna returned to Arlen. Some of the patients in the makeshift hospit seemed to be resting more comfortably, but many still suffered horribly. Arlen knelt by a cot, holding a young girl’s hand. Her other arm ended before the elbow in a bandage soaked through with brownish yellow pus. Half her face was scabbed and oozing from firespit burns, still angry and red. Her skin had a grey pallor, and her breathing was shallow. Her eyes were closed.
‘Demon fever,’ Arlen said without looking up at her approach. ‘Flame demon bit her arm off and left an awful infection. Gave her what cures I know, but the sickness is far enough along I doubt it’ll even slow.’
The pain in his voice cut at her, but she embraced the feeling and let it pass. There was work to be done still.
Arlen looked out at the others in the sick tent. ‘Might be I saved a couple, but I’m out of herbs and most are beyond my skill in any event.’ He sighed. ‘In the sunlight, at least.’
‘Your rooster strutting this afternoon was bad enough,’ Renna said. ‘You start healing folk in the night and there’ll be no end to this Deliverer business.’
Arlen looked at her, and she saw his face was streaked with tears. ‘What would you have me do? Leave these folk to die?’
Renna looked at him, and her resolve weakened. ‘Course not. Just sayin’ there’s a price.’
‘Always a price, Ren,’ Arlen said. ‘This is all my fault.’ He swept his hand out over the Oatingers’ camp. ‘Made this happen.’
Renna raised an eyebrow. ‘How’s that? You drove these people from their homes?’
Arlen shook his head. ‘Woke the demon that did. Never should have brought the spear to Krasia. Never should have trusted Jardir.’
‘What spear? Who’s Jardir?’ Renna asked.
‘Mind demon was willing to kill to answer those questions,’ Arlen said. ‘Sure you want to know?’
‘Killin’ is all demons ever do,’ Renna said, and pointed to the mind demon ward painted in blackstem on her forehead. ‘And those bigheaded bastards ent ever gettin’ inside my skull again.’
Arlen nodded. ‘Jardir is the leader of the Krasian people. Met him a long time ago, and we became friends. Night,
friends
don’t even cover it. Taught me half what I know, and saved my life more’n once. Couldn’t have loved him more he was my own brother.’ Arlen clenched a fist. ‘And all along, he had a ripping knife to my back.’
‘What happened?’ Renna asked.
‘Bought a black market map to a lost city in the desert, said to be the home of Kaji,’ Arlen said.
‘What’s
black
market
?’ Renna asked. ‘They only open at night?’
Arlen smiled, but there was little humour in it. ‘Guess you could say that.
Black
market
means the people I bought it from stole it.’
Renna frowned. ‘That don’t sound like the Arlen Bales I know.’
‘Ent proud of it,’ Arlen said, ‘but had dealings with a lot of shady folk since I left Tibbet’s Brook. Folk to make what Varley’s doin’ seem honest. When you’re out beyond the wards, sometimes shady folk are all there are.’
Renna grunted. ‘So you got a map to this Kaji place. Then what?’
‘Kaji ent a place,’ Arlen said. ‘He was a man. The last general from the demon wars. The Deliverer, if you believe such things.’
Renna laughed. ‘You, Arlen Bales, went huntin’ the Deliverer? Now I know you’re spinning an ale story.’
‘Wasn’t hunting the
Deliverer
,’ Arlen snapped. ‘Was hunting his
wards
. And I found ’em, Ren. Deliverer or no, I found Kaji’s tomb and rescued his spear. The ancient battle wards, means to fight the corelings, brought back to the world! Took it to Jardir, and he had the nerve to say I
stole
it. That it belonged to
him
. Offered to make him a copy, down
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