The Warded Man (Demon Cycle, #1)(89)

“Well enough,” she said, coming to sit on the low stool by Bruna’s chair so the ancient Herb Gatherer could see her clearly. “Yon Gray’s joints still ache, but his mind is as young as ever. I gave him fresh sweetsalve. Smitt remains abed, but his cough is lessening. I think the worst is past.” She went on, describing her rounds while the crone nodded silently. Bruna would stop her if she had comment; she seldom did anymore.

“Is that all?” Bruna asked. “What of the excitement young Keet tells me went on in the market this morning?”

“Idiocy is more like it,” Leesha said.

Bruna dismissed her with a wave. “Boys will be boys,” she said. “Even when they’re men. It sounds like you dealt with it well enough.”

“Bruna, they could have killed each other!” Leesha said.

“Oh, pfaw!” Bruna said. “You’re not the first pretty girl to have men fight over her. You may not believe it, but when I was your age, a few bones were broken on my account, as well.”

“You were never my age,” Leesha teased. “Yon Gray says they called you ‘hag’ when he was first learning to walk.”

Bruna cackled. “So they did, so they did,” she said. “But there was a time before then when my paps were as full and smooth as yours, and men fought like corelings to suckle them.”

Leesha looked hard at Bruna, trying to peel back the years and see the woman she had been, but it was a hopeless task. Even with all the exaggerations and tampweed tales taken into account, Bruna was a century old, at least. She would never say for sure, answering simply, “I quit counting at a hundred,” whenever pressed.

“In any event,” Leesha said, “Marick may be a bit swollen in the face, but he’ll have no reason not to be on the road tomorrow.”

“That’s well,” Bruna said.

“So you have a cure for Mistress Jizell’s young charge?” Leesha asked.

“What would you tell her to do with the boy?” Bruna replied.

“I’m sure I don’t know,” Leesha said.

“Are you?” Bruna asked. “I’m not. Come now, what would you tell Jizell if you were me? Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about it.”

Leesha took a deep breath. “The grimroot likely interacted poorly with the boy’s system,” she said. “He needs to be taken off it, and the boils will need to be lanced and drained. Of course, that still leaves his original illness. The fever and nausea could just be a chill, but the dilated eyes and vomit hint at more. I would try monkleaf with lady’s brooch and ground adderbark, titrated carefully over a week at least.”

Bruna looked at her a long time, then nodded.

“Pack your things and say your good-byes,” she said. “You’ll bring that advice to Jizell personally.”





CHAPTER 14

THE ROAD TO ANGIERS

326 AR





EVERY AFTERNOON WITHOUT FAIL, Erny came up the path to Bruna’s hut. The Hollow had six Warders, each with an apprentice, but Erny did not trust his daughter’s safety to anyone else. The little papermaker was the best Warder in Cutter’s Hollow, and everyone knew it.

Often, he brought gifts his Messengers had secured from far-off places: books and herbs and hand-sewn lace. But gifts were not why Leesha looked forward to his visits. She slept better behind her father’s strong wards, and seeing him happy these last seven years was greater than any gift. Elona still caused him grief, of course, but not on the scale she once had.

But today, as Leesha watched the sun cross the sky, she found herself dreading her father’s visit. This was going to hurt him deeply.

And her, as well. Erny was a well of support and love that she drew upon whenever things grew too hard for her. What would she do in Angiers without him? Without Bruna? Would any there see past her pocketed apron?

But whatever her fears about loneliness in Angiers, they paled against her greatest fear: that once she tasted the wider world, she would never want to return to Cutter’s Hollow.

It wasn’t until she saw her father coming up the path that Leesha realized she’d been crying. She dried her eyes and put on her best smile for him, smoothing her skirts nervously.

“Leesha!” her father called, holding out his arms. She fell into them gratefully, knowing that this might be the last time they played out this little ritual.

“Is everything all right?” Erny asked. “I heard there was some trouble at the market.”

There were few secrets in a place as small as Cutter’s Hollow. “It’s fine,” she said. “I took care of it.”

“You take care of everyone in Cutter’s Hollow, Leesha,” Erny said, squeezing her tightly. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

Leesha began to weep. “Now, now, none of that,” Erny said, catching a tear off her cheek on his index finger and flicking it away. “Dry your eyes and head on inside. I’ll check the wards, and we can talk about what’s bothering you over a bowl of your delicious stew.”

Leesha smiled. “Mum still burning the food?” she asked.

“When it’s not still moving,” Erny agreed. Leesha laughed, letting her father check the wards while she laid the table.

“I’m going to Angiers,” Leesha said when the bowls were cleared, “to study under one of Bruna’s old apprentices.”