Messenger’s Legacy. Peter V. Brett

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Название Messenger’s Legacy
Автор произведения Peter V. Brett
Жанр Героическая фантастика
Серия
Издательство Героическая фантастика
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780008114718



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      Masen began muttering curses, but he stomped off to the house, coming back with a worn leather bag. He counted the smooth lacquered shells into Dawn’s hand. ‘Fifteen … sixteen … seventeen. That’s all I got right now, Mistress. You’ll have the rest in a week. Honest word.’

      ‘I’d better,’ Dawn said. ‘Come along, Briar.’

      The two of them walked down the road until they came to the fork, one way leading to their home, the other to the rest of town.

      ‘You were very brave today, Briar,’ his mother said.

      ‘Wasn’t right, what he said,’ Briar said.

      She waved a hand. ‘Wasn’t talking about that fool-headed Masen Bales. Meant in the yard this morning.’

      Briar shook his head. ‘Wasn’t brave. Almost peed my pants I was so scared.’

      ‘But you didn’t,’ Dawn said. ‘Didn’t scream or run away, didn’t faint. That’s all brave is. When you’re scared, but keep your wits about you. Relan says you held up better than your brothers.’

      ‘Really?’ Briar asked.

      ‘Really.’ Dawn narrowed her eyes. ‘You stir trouble by tellin’ ’em I told you that, though, and it’ll be the strap.’

      Briar swallowed. ‘I won’t tell anyone.’

      Dawn laughed and put her arms around him, squeezing tightly. ‘Know you won’t, poppet. I’m so proud of you. You run off now. Enjoy the sun for a few hours, like your da promised. I’ll see you at supper.’ She smiled and pressed a handful of shells into his hand.

      ‘In case you want to buy a meat pie and some sugar candy.’

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      Briar felt a thrill as he made his way into town, running his fingers over the smooth lacquer of the shells. He’d never had money of his own before, and had to suppress a whoop of glee.

      He went to the butcher shop, where Mrs Butcher sold hot meat pies, and laid a shell on the counter.

      Mrs Butcher looked at him suspiciously. ‘Where’d you get that shell, Mudboy? You steal it?’

      Briar shook his head. ‘Mother gave it to me for helping her save Tami Bales’ cow.’

      Mrs Butcher grunted and took the shell, handing him a steaming pie in return.

      He went next to the sugarmaker, who fixed a glare on Briar the moment he came into the shop. His look did not soften until Briar produced a pair of shells to pay for the candies he collected from the display, all wrapped in twisted corn husks. These he stuffed in his pockets, eating the meat pie as he walked back out of town. The sun was bright on his shoulders, and it felt warm and safe. The memory of the wood demon snarling at him seemed a distant thing.

      He walked down to the lake and watched the fishing boats for a time. It was a clear day, and he could just make out Lakton in the distance, the great city floating far out on the lake. He followed the shoreline, skipping stones across the water.

      He stopped short, spotting a pair of webbed tracks in the mud left by a bank demon. He imagined the frog-like creature leaping onto the shore and catching him with its long sticky tongue. The tracks made him shiver, and suddenly he had to pee desperately. He barely lowered his pants in time, thankful there was no one to see.

      ‘Brave,’ he muttered to himself, knowing the lie for what it was.

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      Late in the afternoon, Briar hid behind the house and pulled out one of the sugar candies. He unwrapped the treasure and chewed slowly, savouring every bite as his father did with bacon.

      ‘Ay, Briarpatch!’ a voice called. Briar looked up to see Hardey and Hale approaching.

      ‘Where’d you get that candy?’ Hale called, balling a fist.

      ‘We get to haul trash all day, and he gets extra bacon and candy?’ Hardey asked.

      ‘Don’t think that’s right, do you?’ Hale said.

      Briar knew this game. All the boys in Bogton knew to step lightly when the twins started asking each other questions.

      His mind ran through all the things he might say, but he knew none of them would make any difference. His brothers were going to knock him down and take the candy, promising worse if he told their parents.

      He ran. Over the woodpiles, quick as a hare, and then cut through the laundry lines as his brothers charged after him. Sunny and Sky were collecting the clean wash in baskets, and he barely missed running into them.

      ‘Ay, watch it, Briarpatch!’ Sky shouted.

      ‘Stop him, he’s got candy!’ he heard Hardey cry. Briar dodged around a hanging sheet and kept low as he doubled back around the house, running into the bog out back.

      He could hear the others close behind, but the trees were thick before the ground became too damp, giving cover as he made for the goldwood tree where the wood demon rose. Briar had climbed the goldwood a hundred times and, knew every knot and branch. He swung up into its boughs like he was a wood demon himself, then froze and held his breath. The others ran by, and Briar counted fifty breaths before he dared move.

      There was a small hollow where the branches met. Briar packed the candy in dry leaves and left it hidden there, praying to the Creator it would not rain. Then he dropped back to the ground and ran home.

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      At supper, his brothers and sisters watched him like a cat watches a mouse. Briar kept close to his mother until bedtime.

      No sooner had the door to the tiny room the three boys shared closed, than the twins pinned him on the floor of their room, digging through his pockets and searching his bed.

      ‘Where’d you hide them, Briarpatch?’ Hardey demanded, sitting hard on his stomach, knocking the breath out of him.

      ‘It was just the one, and I ate it!’ Briar struggled, but he was wise enough not to raise his voice. A shout might get his brothers the strap, but it would go worse for him.

      Eventually the boys gave up, giving him a last shake and going to bed. ‘This ent over, Briarpatch,’ Hardey said. ‘Catch you with it later, you’ll be eating dirt.’

      They were soon asleep, but Briar’s heart was still thumping, and out in the yard demons shrieked as they tested the wards. Briar couldn’t sleep through the sound, flinching at every cry and flash of magic. Hale kicked him under the covers. ‘Quit squirming, Briarpatch, or I’ll lock you out on the porch for the night.’

      Briar shuddered, and again felt an overwhelming urge to empty his bladder. He got out of bed and stumbled into the hall to find the privy. It was pitch black in the house, but that had never bothered Briar before. He had blindly fumbled his way to the curtain countless times.

      But it was different tonight. There was a demon in the house. Briar couldn’t say how he knew, but he sensed it lurking in the darkness, waiting for its chance to pounce.

      Briar could feel his heart pounding like a festival drum and began to sweat, though the night was cool. It was suddenly hard for him to breathe, as if Hardey were still sitting on his chest. There was a rustling sound ahead, and Briar yelped, literally jumping. He looked around and it seemed he could make out a dim shape moving in the darkness.

      Terrified, he turned and ran for the common room. The fire had burned down, but a few pumps of the bellows had an open flame, and Briar fed it carefully with bricks of peat from the pile until it filled the room with light. Shadows fled, and