Renna cast a wistful eye back up the road as the farm came into sight. “I know what yer thinkin’, girl,” Harl said. “Yer thinkin’ of bein’ like yer ingrate sister and runnin’ off t’be with that boy.”
Renna said nothing, but she felt her cheeks burn, and that was damning enough.
“Well, you think twice about it,” Harl said. “I won’t let you shame our family like Lainie did, runnin’ off with a man whose wife just died the night before. Whole town still talks of it, and they all cast a dark eye on old Harl for raising such a corespawned whore.
“Yer on your way to getting the same reputation,” Harl said. “Not this time, girlie. I’d rather scar the wards than go through that again. You even think about runnin’, and you’ll have yerself a trip to the outhouse, even if I have to go all the way to Southwatch to collect you.”
Renna glanced at the tiny, ramshackle structure in the yard, and her blood went cold. Her father had never put her in there, but he had done it to Ilain a few times, and to Beni once. She remembered their screams vividly.
Renna reclaimed Beni and Lucik’s small room, which she had once shared with her sister, moving in her few possessions and barring the door with a trembling hand.
As she lay back in the bed, she stroked Miss Scratch, her favorite cat, who was pregnant and soon to litter. As she did she thought of Cobie, of a house in Town Square and children of her own. The images warmed and comforted her, but she kept one eye on the door for a long time before drifting off to sleep.
For the next few days, Renna avoided her father whenever she could. It wasn’t difficult. Spring planting might have been done, but even so, they were two splitting chores once shared by six. Just feeding the animals and cleaning their stalls was half a morning’s work for Renna, and she still had to milk and shear and slaughter, ready meals thrice a day, mend clothing, make butter and cheese, tan skins, and an endless array of other tasks. She fell into the work almost gratefully for the protection it offered.
Each morning she bound her breasts, leaving her hair a tangle and her face smudged, and there was enough work to keep lewd thoughts from Harl’s mind. Just checking the wardposts around the fields took hours. Each had to be examined carefully to make sure the wards were clear and sharp and aligned properly to overlap their neighbors without gap. A simple bird dropping or a warp in the wood could weaken a ward sufficiently for a demon to pass through if it found the gap.
After that, the fields still needed weeding, and the ripest produce had to be harvested for the day’s meals, or for pickling and preserves. After all that, there was still always something around the farm that needed fixing, or sharpening.
The only time they really spent together was at meals, and they said little. Renna was careful not to bend close as she served and cleared. Harl never gave any sign he was looking at her differently, but he grew increasingly irritable as the days wore on.
“Creator, my back hurts,” he said one night at supper as he bent to fill another mug from the keg of Boggin’s Ale that Meada had sent back with them after the burning. Renna had lost count of how many he had filled that night.
Harl gasped in pain as he tried to straighten, and stumbled, sloshing his ale. Renna was there in an instant, steadying him and catching the mug before it spilled. Harl leaned heavily on her as she dragged him back to his chair.
Renna and Beni had often been called upon to knead the pain from Harl’s bad back, and she did it now without thinking, working her father’s tensed muscles with strong, skilled fingers.
“Atta girl,” her father groaned, closing his eyes and pressing against her hands. “You were always the good one, Ren. Not like yer sisters, with no loyalty to kith and kin. Dunno how you turned out all right, with those two deserters as an example.”
Renna finished her ministrations, but Harl grabbed her about the waist and pulled her close before she could pull out of reach. He looked up at her with tears in his eyes.
“You’ll never leave me, girl, will you?” he asked.
“No, Da,” Renna said. “Course not.” She squeezed him briefly, and then pulled quickly back, taking his mug to the keg and refilling it.
Renna awoke that night to a crash as something struck her door. She leapt from bed, pulling on her dress, but there was no other sound. She crept to the door and pressed her ear to the wood, hearing a low wheeze.
Carefully, she lifted the bar and opened the door a crack, seeing her father passed out on the floor, regurgitated ale staining the front of his nightshirt.
“Creator make me strong,” Renna begged as she soaked a rag to clean the vomit from him and the floor, then half carried, half dragged her father back to his room.
Harl wept as she heaved him into his bed, clinging to her desperately. “Can’t lose you, too,” he sobbed over and over. Renna sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed, holding him as he cried, and then disengaged as he drifted off to sleep. She went quickly back to her room and barred the door again.
The next morning, Renna came back into the house after collecting eggs in the barn and found Harl popping the pins out of the hinges of her door.
“The door broke?” she asked, her heart clutching.
“Nope,” Harl grunted. “Need the wood to patch a hole in the barn wall. Don’t matter none, you don’t need it. Ent no marital relations going on in this room no more.” He hefted the door and carried it off to the barn, leaving Renna stunned.
She felt like a frightened animal for the rest of the day, and didn’t sleep at all that night, all her senses attuned toward the thick curtain hung over the doorway.
But nothing stirred the curtain that night, or the night that followed, or for a week after.
Renna wasn’t sure what woke her. Corelings had tested the wards earlier in the night, but the sounds had faded to silence as they gave over to search out easier prey.
The only light was a soft glow around the edges of the curtain in the doorway from the fire in the common room, burned low in the night. It threw a dim light over her bed, though the rest of the tiny room was bathed in darkness.
But Renna knew immediately that she wasn’t alone. Her father was in the room.
Careful to keep still, she reached out into the darkness with her senses, trying to convince herself it was only a dream, but she could smell the stink of ale and sweat, and hear his tense breathing. Floorboards creaked as he shifted from foot to foot. She kept waiting for him to do something, but he just stood there, watching her.
Had he done this before? Snuck into her room and watched her sleep? The thought sickened her. Afraid to stir, her eyes flicked to the curtain, but escape that way seemed unlikely. It would take her four steps to reach the doorway. Harl could intercept her in one.
The window was closer, but even if she could unlatch the shutters and throw them open before he got to her, it was deep in the night, and demons prowled the darkness outside.
Time seemed to slow as Renna desperately tried to think of a way to escape. If she ran through the yard, she might make it to the barn before a coreling caught her. The big barn was warded, and not connected to the house. If she made it there, Harl couldn’t follow till morning, and perhaps by then he would have slept off his drink.
Running into the night went against her every instinct. It was suicide. But where else was there to go? She was trapped in the house with him until sunrise.
Just then Harl shifted, and she caught her breath. He came slowly over to the bed, and Renna froze, like a rabbit paralyzed with fear. As he came into the light, she saw he was clad only in his nightshirt, his arousal jutting through the cloth. He came close to her, reaching out to touch her hair. He ran his fingers through it, and then sniffed at them, his hand dropping again to gently caress her face.
“Jus’ like yer mam,” he mumbled, and ran his hand lower, past her throat and collar, tracing the smooth skin to her breast.
He squeezed, and Renna shrieked. Miss Scratch woke with a start and hissed, sinking claws deep into Harl’s arm. He cried out, and terror gave Renna strength. She shoved at him, throwing him backward. Drunk, Harl stumbled and fell to the floor. Renna was through the curtain in an instant.
“Girl, you get back here!” Harl cried, but she ignored him, running hard for the back door to the small barn. He stumbled after her, tangling in the curtain and ripping it from the rod.
She was through the barn door before he freed himself, but there was no lock from the inside. She grabbed a heavy old saddle, throwing it against the door, and ran through the stalls.
“Corespawn it, Renna! What’s gotten into you?” Harl cried as he burst through the door. There was a cry as he fell over the saddle, cursing loudly.
“Girl, I will tan the skin off your arse, you don’t come out of hiding!” he called, and there was a crack like a whip. He had pulled a set of leather reins off the barn wall.
Renna made no reply, crouching in the darkness of an empty stall behind an old rain barrel as Harl fumbled with the striker to light a lantern. He finally managed to catch the wick, and a flickering light sprang to life, sending shadows dancing around the barn.
“Where you gone to, girl?” Harl called, as he began to search the stalls. “Gonna be worse, I have to drag you out.” He cracked the reins again to accentuate his point, and Renna’s heart jumped. Outside, the demons, drawn to the commotion, flung themselves against the wards with renewed fervor. Wardlight flashed through cracks in the wood, accompanied by coreling shrieks and the crackle of magic.
She wound like a spring as he drew closer, every muscle coiling tighter and tighter until she was certain she would burst. His muttered curses grew fouler and fouler as he went, and he began flailing around with the reins in frustration.
He was only inches from her hiding place when Renna burst free, running deeper into the barn. She came to the back wall, cornered, and turned to face him.
“Dunno what’s taken you, girl,” Harl said. “ ’Spect I need to beat some sense into you.”
There was no way to get past this time, so Renna turned and scampered up the ladder to the hayloft. She tried to pull it up after her, but Harl gave a shout and caught the bottom rung, yanking it back down and almost pulling Renna down with it. She only barely managed to catch herself on the trap, and lost her grip on the ladder completely. Harl hooked the lantern and began to climb up after her, the reins in his teeth.
Renna kicked out in desperation, catching her father full in the face. He was knocked back off the ladder, but the floor was covered with hay and broke the worst of his fall. He grabbed the ladder again before she could pull it away, and came up fast. She kicked again, but he caught her foot and shoved hard, sending her sprawling.
And then he was up in the loft with her, and there was nowhere to run. She was only half on her feet when his fist connected with her face, and light exploded behind her eyes.
“You brung this on yourself, girl,” Harl said, punching her again in the stomach. The air exploded from her lungs, and she gasped in pain. He gripped her nightshirt in one sinewy fist and yanked, tearing half of it away.
“Please, Da!” she cried. “Don’t!”
“Don’t?” he echoed with a harsh laugh. “Since when do you say don’t to boys in the hayloft, girl? Ent this where you do your sinning? Ent this where you bring shame to our family? You’ll stick any drunk that falls asleep in a stall, but yer too good for your own da?”
“No!” Renna cried.
“Corespawned right, yer not,” Harl said, grabbing the back of her neck and pushing her face down into the hay as he lifted his nightshirt with his free hand.
When it was over, Renna lay crying in the hay. Harl’s weight was still on her, but the strength seemed to have gone out of him. She shoved hard, and he rolled off her without resistance.
She wanted to shove him right off the side of the loft and break his neck, but she couldn’t stop sobbing enough to rise. Her cheek and lip throbbed where he had struck her, and her stomach was on fire, but it was nothing compared with the burning between her legs. If Harl had even noticed the evidence that she had never been with a man before, he gave no sign.
“That’s it, girl,” Harl said, patting her shoulder weakly. “You go ahead and have yerself a good cry. It used to help Ilain, before she got to liking it.”
Renna scowled. Ilain had never liked it, no matter what he said.
“You ever do that again,” she said, “I’ll tell everyone in Town Square what you done.”
Harl barked a laugh. “No one will believe you. The goodwives’ll just think the town tramp is looking for an excuse to move close enough to get her claws into their husbands, and none of them will care for that.
“And besides,” he added, wrapping a gnarled hand around her throat, “you tell anyone, girl, and I’ll kill you.”
Renna watched the sun set from the warded porch, hugging herself as the sky washed with color. Not long ago, she had stood every night looking to the east, dreaming of the day Arlen Bales would return from the Free Cities to fulfill his promise and take her away.
She still watched the road each evening, but now she looked to the west, praying to see Cobie Fisher come for her. Did he still think of her? Had he meant what he said? Wouldn’t he have come by now if he had?
Her hope faded further each night, till it was little more than a flicker, and then nothing but a coal buried in sand, a warmth buried away for a use that might never come.
But anything that kept her outside a moment longer was worth it, even a dream that cut as much as it soothed. Soon she would have to go inside and serve her father dinner, and work her evening chores with his eyes on her until he said it was time for bed.
And then she would go obediently to his bed, and lie still as he had his way. She thought of Ilain, and all the years she had undergone this torment, back when Renna was too young to understand. How she had survived with her mind intact was beyond Renna, but Ilain and Beni had always been stronger than her.
“Gettin’ dark, girl,” Harl called. “Come and shut the door ’fore the corelings get you.”
For a moment, the image danced across her mind. The corelings would rise in a moment. It would be a simple matter to step across the wards and end her torment.
But Renna found she didn’t have the strength for that, either. She turned and went inside.
“Oh, don’t you grumble at me, Wooly,” Renna told the sheep as she sheared. “You’ll thank me to be rid of your coat in this heat.”
Beni and the boys used to make mock of her when she spoke to the animals like people, but with them gone, Renna found herself doing it more and more. The cats and dogs and the animals in the stalls were the only friends she had in the world, and when Harl was in the fields, they lent sympathetic ears as Renna poured her heart out to them.
“Renna,” came a whisper behind her. She jumped and Wooly bleated as she accidentally cut him, but Renna barely noticed, spinning to find Cobie Fisher just a few feet away.
She dropped the shears, looking around frantically, but Harl was nowhere to be seen. Out weeding the fields, he would likely be gone hours more, but she took no chances, grabbing Cobie’s arm and pulling him behind the big barn.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered.
“Bringing a few casks of rice out to Mack Pasture’s farm up the road,” Cobie said. “I’ll succor there, and head back to the Square in the morning.”
“My father will kill you if he sees you,” Renna said.
Cobie nodded. “I know. I don’t care.” He fumbled with his message pouch, pulling out a long necklace of smooth brook stones threaded on a stout leather cord with a fishbone clasp.
“It ent much, but it’s what I could afford,” he said, handing the necklace to Renna.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, taking the gift. It wrapped around her neck twice and still hung past her breasts.
“Keep thinking about you, Renna,” Cobie said. “Tender Harral and my da told me to forget you, but I can’t do it. I see you every time I close my eyes. I want you to come back with me tomorrow. The Tender will marry us if we go to him and beg; I know he will. He did it for your sister, when she ran off with Jeph Bales, and once we’re joined before the Creator, nothing your da says can pull us apart.”
“Honest word?” Renna asked, her eyes brimming with tears.
Cobie nodded and pulled her to him, kissing her deeply.
But Cobie only kept control for a moment, as Renna pushed him back against the barn wall and sank to her knees. He gasped and his nails dug grooves in the wood of the barn wall while she worked. His knees bucked, and as he slipped down to the ground, Renna straddled him and lifted her skirts.
“I … I’ve never …” Cobie stuttered, but she put a finger to his lips to silence him and sank herself onto him.
Cobie threw his head back in pleasure, and Renna smiled. This wasn’t like it was with Harl, rough and unfeeling. This was how it should be. She covered Cobie’s face in kisses as she rose and fell, finding her own pleasure as his hands roamed her body.
“I love you,” he whispered, and spent himself inside her. She cried and kissed him. They held each other in that warm glowing embrace for a time, and then stood, readjusting their clothes. Renna cast a wary eye around the corner of the barn, but there was no sign of her father.
“My father goes out into the fields early,” Renna said. “Right after breakfast. If you come then, he’ll be gone till lunchtime.”
“We’ll be at the Holy House before he even realizes you’re gone,” Cobie said, squeezing her tightly. “Pack your things tonight and have them ready. I’ll come as early as I can.”
“There’s nothing to pack,” Renna said. “I’ve no dowry but myself, but I promise I can be a good wife. I can cook and ward and keep your home …”
Cobie laughed, kissing her. “I want no dowry. Only you.”
Renna hid the necklace in her apron pocket, and was obedient the rest of the day and night, giving her father no reason to doubt her. It was true that she had nothing to pack, but she went to each of her friends, the animals, to whisper her goodbyes. She cried over Miss Scratch, lamenting the kittens she would never see.
“You’ll be Mrs. Scratch when the kits come,” Renna said, “even if that good-for-nothing tabby don’t help you care for ’em.”
She scanned the animals in the room, spotting the likely sire. “You take care of your kits,” she admonished, keeping her voice low so her father wouldn’t hear, “or I’ll come back and throw you in the water trough.”
She lay awake all night as Harl snored beside her, and before the first crack of light came through the shutters, she had porridge on the fire and was out collecting eggs from the coop in the barn. She went about the rest of her chores that morning aware that she was performing each for the last time, and as she worked, she kept casting eyes up the road.
She didn’t have to wait long. There was a galloping in the distance, but it faded before it came too close. Soon after, Cobie came around the bend in the road, sweaty and breathless.
“Galloped all the way,” he said, kissing her. “Couldn’t wait to see you.”
Pinecone needed a rest, so Cobie tethered her behind the barn while Renna drew water from the well. The mare drank greedily and began grazing while they fell into each other’s arms. Before long, she was bent over against the barn with her skirts around her waist.
And it was there Harl found them.
“I knew it!” he cried, swinging his pitchfork hard at Cobie’s head. The shaft caught him on the temple and sent him reeling.
“Cobie!” Renna shouted, running to him and cradling him in her arms as he tried to rise.
“I knew sumpthin’ was up when I saw you weepin’ over them cats, girl,” Harl said. “You think yer da’s an idiot?”
“I don’t care!” Renna shouted. “Cobie and I are in love, and I’m leaving with him!”
“The Core you are,” Harl said, grabbing her arm. “You’ll get your ass in the house this instant, you want to keep the skin on it.”
But Cobie’s meaty hand locked over Harl’s wrist, twisting and pulling it off Renna.
“I’m sorry, sir,” he said, “but I ent gonna let you do that.”
Harl turned to face him and snorted. “Well, boy, don’t say you didn’t ask for this,” he said, and kicked Cobie hard in the crotch.
His pants still around his ankles, Cobie had no protection whatsoever from Harl’s heavy boot, and he crumpled in a heap, clutching between his legs. Harl shoved Renna to the ground and raised his pitchfork, striking merciless blows as Cobie lay helpless.
“Typical bully boy,” Harl spat. “Bet you never been in a real fight in your life.” Cobie let go his crotch and tried to get out of the way, but his pants were still a tangle, tripping him up, and he screamed as each blow struck home.
Finally, as he lay gasping and bloody on the ground, Harl stuck the fork in the dirt and pulled his long knife from the sheath on his belt.
“Told you what I’d do if I caught you with my daughter again,” he said, advancing. “Say goodbye to yer stones, boy.” Cobie’s eyes widened in terror.
“No!” Renna screamed, leaping on Harl’s back and tangling him with her arms and legs. “Run, Cobie! Run!”
Harl shouted, and the two of them struggled. A lifetime of hard work had made Renna strong, but Harl turned and kicked back, slamming her into the wall of the barn. The wind was knocked from her, and before she could take another breath Harl slammed her again. And again. Her grip loosened, and he caught her arm, flipping her over onto the ground.
Pain flared through Renna on impact, but even through the haze she saw Cobie pulling up his pants and leaping onto his horse. Before Harl could snatch up his pitchfork, he had kicked Pinecone’s flanks and was galloping down the road.
“This is yer last warning, boy! Stay away from my daughter or I ent gonna leave you an inch to piss with!
“As for you, girlie,” Harl said, “I told you what we do to tramps around here!” He grabbed Renna’s hair in a fist and dragged her toward the house. She cried out in pain but, still dazed, she could do little more than stumble along.
Halfway across the yard, she realized they weren’t going to the house at all. Harl was taking her to the outhouse.
“No!” she screamed, accepting the pain from her pulled hair as she planted her feet and began to pull away. “Creator, please! No!”
“Think the Creator’s gonna help you with you out sinnin’ in broad daylight, girl?” Harl asked. “I’m doing His corespawned work!” He yanked hard, keeping her moving.
“Da! Please!” she cried. “I promise I’ll be good!”
“You made that promise before, girl, and see where it’s got us,” Harl replied. “Shoulda done this right away; made sure you took me serious.”
He shoved hard, and Renna fell into the outhouse, landing hard against the bench and wrenching her back. She ignored the pain and surged forward to escape, but Harl punched her right in the face as she charged, and everything went black.
Renna came to a few hours later. At first, she forgot where she was, but the fire in her back where she had struck the bench, and the blinding pain in her cheek when she flexed her face, brought it all back. She opened her eyes in terror.
Harl heard her screaming and pounding on the door, and came over, rapping sharply on the wall with the bone handle of his knife. “You quiet down in there! This is for your own good.”
Renna ignored him, continuing to scream and kick at the door.
“Wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” Harl said, loudly enough to be heard over her tantrum. “Them boards’re old enough as is, and you’ll want ’em good and strong for when the sun sets. Keep kicking and you’ll knock the wards out of place.”
Renna quieted immediately.
“Please,” she sobbed through the door. “Don’t leave me out at night! I’ll be good!”
“Corespawned right you will,” Harl said. “After tonight, you’ll chase that boy off yourself, he comes callin’!”
It was hot in the tiny outhouse, and the air was thick with the stench of excrement. There was a vent, but Renna didn’t dare open it for fear of creating a hole in the wardnet. Flies buzzed noisily in the midden barrel in the pit below the crude waste bench.
Through the cracks in the wood, Renna watched the light dim as the sun began to set. She kept hoping, praying, that Harl would come back, that it was just a scare, but as the last glimmer of light died, so too did her hopes. Outside, the corelings were rising. She felt in her apron pocket, clutching the polished stones of Cobie’s necklace tightly for strength.
The demons came silently; the day’s heat drifting up from the ground gave them a path from the Core, it was said, and their misty forms even now would be coalescing into claws and scales and razor teeth. Renna could feel her heart pounding in her chest.
There was a snuffling at the outhouse door. Renna stiffened, biting her lip in fear, and in the silence of her stillness she could hear claws digging at the dirt of the yard, quick sniffs as the coreling inhaled the sharp tang of her fear.
Suddenly the demon shrieked and struck hard at the wards. There was a flare of magic, so bright it came through the cracks in the wood and illuminated the interior of the outhouse, and Renna screamed so hard it felt as if her throat would tear.
The wards held, but the demon was undeterred. There was a flap of leathery wings, and another flare of magic from the roof. The entire outhouse shook with the impact, and Renna screamed again as dust and dirt clattered down on her, shaken loose by the blow.
The wind demon tried again and again, shrieking its rage at the prey so near and yet so far. The wards threw the coreling back each time, but the rebounds shook the outhouse, and the old wood groaned in protest. How many blows could it withstand?
At last, the coreling gave up. Renna heard the flap of wings and its receding cries as it soared off in search of easier prey.
But the ordeal did not end there. Every coreling in the yard caught her scent before long. She endured the sparks of magic as flame demons raked at the wood with their tiny claws, shivering at the blasts of cold air as the wards converted their firespit. Worse were the wood demons, which drove off the others before long and pounded the wards so hard that the entire structure rocked with the force of each rebound. Renna felt every flare of the wards like a physical blow, and sank down to the floor, curling into a ball and sobbing uncontrollably.
It seemed to go on for an eternity. After Creator only knew how many hours, Renna found herself praying for the wards to fail—as they surely must before the night was through—just to put an end to it. If she’d been able to muster the strength to stand, she would have opened the door herself to let them in.
More interminable time passed, and she found she lacked even the strength to cry. The flare of magic, the shrieks in the night, the stench of the midden pit, all faded as she sank deeper and deeper into a primal fear so powerful that the details ceased to exist.
She lay curled tight, every muscle tensed at once, and tears flowed silently from her wide eyes as they stared into the darkness. Her breath came in short, sharp intakes, and her heart was a hummingbird’s wing. Her nails dug grooves into the wood of the floor, oblivious to the resulting blood and splinters.
She didn’t even notice when the sounds and flashes ceased, and the demons returned to the Core.
There was a thump as the outside bar was lifted, but Renna didn’t react until the door opened wide to the blinding light of the rising sun. After hours of staring into darkness, the light seared her eyes, snapping her mind from its retreat. She gasped deeply and bolted upright, throwing an arm up against the light, screaming as she kicked back until she was scrunched against the rear wall of the outhouse.
Harl put his arms around her, soothing her hair. “There, there, girl,” he whispered, gentling her hair. “That hurt me as much as it did you.” He hugged her, firmly but gently, and rocked her from side to side as she sobbed.
“That’s it, girl,” he said. “You have yerself a good cry. Get it all out.”
And she did, clutching at him as she convulsed in sorrow, before she finally calmed.
“Think you can mind me now?” Harl asked when her composure began to return. “Don’t want to have to do this again.”
Renna nodded eagerly. “I promise, Da.” Her voice was hoarse from screaming.
“That a girl,” Harl said, and lifted her in his arms, carrying her into the house. He put her in her own bed, and made her a hot broth, bringing lunch and dinner to her on a board she could lay across her lap. It was the first time Renna had ever seen him prepare food, but it was warm and good and filling.
“You sleep in tomorrow,” he said that night. “Rest up, and you’ll be right as rain by afternoon.”
Indeed, Renna did feel better the next day, and better still the day after that. Harl did not come to her at night, and he let her work at her own pace by day. Time passed, and it became clear that Cobie wasn’t coming back. It was just as well, Renna thought.
Sometimes, between chores, she remembered flashes of the night in the outhouse, but she blocked them quickly from her mind. It was over, and she would be a good daughter from now on, so she need not fear going back there again.