‘Left with the Krasians going on two months ago,’ Darsy said.

Arlen grunted. ‘It true, then? Jardir came to the Hollow and stole her away?’

‘After a fashion,’ Darsy said.

Arlen’s brow drew tight. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Darsy took a deep breath and looked at him. ‘He’s asked her to marry him.’

Arlen’s eyes bulged, and his jaw dropped. It was only a split second before the look dropped from his face, but it had been there, clear as day. Even the aura of magic surrounding him changed noticeably, its surface crackling and popping like green wood in a fire.

Renna had never seen anything take Arlen by surprise, and wasn’t sure how to read it. Past Leesha Paper might be, but she still had power over him.

Arlen leaned forward, his face utterly serene, but his eyes intense. ‘You telling me Leesha’s gone to marry Ahmann Jardir? That lyin’, rapin’, murderin’ son of the Core? That what you’re fixing to tell me, Darsy Cutter?’ His low voice grew louder as he spoke. Not loud, but louder. Again, Renna saw the ambient magic in the area rush to him, his wards beginning to glow. Darsy drew back from him as one might from a hissing rattlesnake.

‘She ent said yes!’ Darsy practically shouted. ‘And she ent playing the fool. Said it was an excuse to see what he’s done to the south. To count his troops and learn his ways. Didn’t go alone, either. Took Rojer, Gared, Wonda, and her parents to watch over her.’

‘Don’t matter,’ Arlen said. ‘The fact she went at all, and took her da, tells the Krasians Erny’s put her to market and is just waiting for the right price.’

Darsy scowled. ‘How dare you! Mistress Leesha ent some cow to buy and sell!’

‘To them she is!’ Arlen snapped. ‘Krasians don’t treat women as free folk. Don’t matter if they’re a duchess or a milkmaid, women are just property to those people, bought and sold. And no one outbids Ahmann Corespawned Jardir when he sets his mind on a prize, Darsy Cutter. No. One.’

Darsy deflated, the fight gone out of her, and she nodded. ‘Told her it was stupid to go, but she wouldn’t listen. Stubborn as a coreling.’ A pained look crossed her face, as if admitting fault in her precious mistress hurt her. Renna spat on the ground. Darsy flinched, but made no comment.

‘Don’t think she’s in danger just yet, anyway,’ she said. ‘I’ve gotten regular letters from her, and the codes all say she and the others are well. Say one thing for the Krasians, they make excellent Messengers.’

‘Codes?’ Arlen asked.

‘Said she wasn’t playing the fool,’ Darsy said, daring to meet his eyes at last. ‘Mistress Leesha figured the Krasians would read her letters, but she gave me phrases and words to memorize so she could let me know how things stood even if they were forcing her hand. So far, Jardir seems to be keeping his word, but she says his army is spread out over all Rizon, and their numbers are impossible to count. She specifically asked that we not mention you, but she left a code to signal your return.’

‘Tell her,’ Arlen said, ‘and tell her that she needs to get back to the Hollow right quick. Got news that can’t wait and you ent got codes for it.’

‘You’ll get no argument from me,’ Darsy said. ‘Creator never meant me to be town Gatherer.’

‘It’s hard times, Darsy Cutter, and you got to shoulder what burdens come to you,’ Arlen said. ‘Something bad’s coming with the new moon. Something to make Jardir look like a horsefly buzzing in our ear.’

Darsy’s face grew pale. ‘What is it?’

Arlen ignored the question. ‘Who’s been speaking for the Cutters with Gared gone?’

‘Who else?’ Darsy asked. ‘The Butchers. Even the new count knew better than to mess with those wards. Gave them royal commissions, but he’s yet to ask them to do anything they weren’t already meaning to do themselves.’

There was a great bark, and a heavy shape bright with magic charged at Arlen. Renna drew her knife, but Arlen simply knelt and opened his arms as the massive wolfhound bowled him over. His laughter was infectious as the beast began to lick his face.

‘Still ent taught this mongrel to heel, Evin Cutter?’ Arlen asked its master as he approached.

‘Shadow heels when he wants to, and no time other,’ Evin replied. ‘Good to have you back, sir.’

‘How’re Brianne and the boys?’ Arlen asked, prising the giant dog back.

‘Boys’re shootin’ up like weeds,’ Evin said. ‘Callen will be a Cutter himself soon, and Brianne’s got another one growin’ in her belly. Been prayin’ on a girl this time around.’ He looked at Arlen expectantly.

Arlen sighed. ‘Babe is what it is, Evin. Ent convinced there’s a Creator at all, much less one that takes my messages. Just hope if it’s a girl she gets her looks from her mam.’

Everyone looked at him in shock, as if unable to believe Arlen had made a joke, but then Evin barked a laugh, and the others joined in, the tension broken.

Darsy cleared her throat, catching Arlen’s eye and nodding to the killing field where Renna saw the count heading their way. He was wiping at his mouth with a silk kerchief, but his stride was determined. At his back were two fighters, a man and a woman.

‘Dug and Merrem Butcher,’ Arlen murmured to Renna. ‘Used to be real butchers, till the Battle of Cutter’s Hollow.’

The Butchers were both heavyset, with thick arms crisscrossed with scars and burns on their faces. Dug was bald and sweaty, wearing a thick leather butcher’s apron reinforced with underplating and spattered with demon ichor. Like Darsy, Merrem wore loose pantaloons that gave the appearance of skirts. Her leather corset was armoured like Dug’s apron and equally ichor-splattered. Either one of them looked strong enough to toss a cow. The heavy cleavers on their belts were little different from the one Harl used when he slaughtered a hog, but these were heavily warded, and Renna doubted they’d been used for butchering in some time.

They walked proudly, like Speakers on the way to town council. The rest of the Cutters drifted in their wake, covered in blood, sweat, and demon ichor, glowing fiercely with magic. All of them towered over Renna, giving her the feeling they were standing in a ring of trees. They whispered excitedly among themselves, pointing at Arlen and drawing wards in the air. By way of contrast, the Wooden Soldiers quickly fell into neat lines at the count’s back, backs straight and spears in hand, ready to kill for their prince at a moment’s notice.

Count Thamos was not as tall as the Hollowers, but he more than made up for it in his bright armour, polished and glowing powerfully with magic.

‘No one in the Hollow has forgotten what you’ve done,’ Darsy said quickly, before the count was in earshot. ‘The Cutters will go where the Painted Man tells them and nowhere else.’

Arlen nodded. ‘This “Painted Man” business is the first thing I mean to clear up.’

Thamos stopped a respectful distance from Arlen and stood haughtily while a smaller man Renna had not noticed appeared before him. The man wore armour and kept a short spear strapped to his back, but he did not have the look of a fighter. Both weapon and armour looked more ornamental than functional. His hands were smooth, likely more used to a quill than a spear. His tabard was embroidered with two emblems, a throne overgrown with ivy and a wooden soldier. He bowed.