Messenger’s Legacy by Peter V. Brett Read Free Book Online Page B

poultice on for the rest of the night, but it was Seventhday, and his mouth watered at the thought of the Offering.
    He slipped out of the briar patch, moving the broken table that served as his door just enough to slip out, then pushed it back in place, covering the small entrance in the nook behind the largest of the refuse heaps.
    He crouched as he moved, the hogroot tall enough to hide him completely. He broke off a few leaves as he went, crushing them in his hands and rubbing them on his clothes to freshen the scent. The cloth was stained nearly black, as much resin as thread by now.
    He stepped around the hidden demon pit, and nimbly hopped over the tripwire, pausing to scan the area from between the stalks before stepping from safety.
    No cories.
    He made his way down the road, passing many dark and silent cottages – the inhabitants long since asleep. Demons prowled the village, but Mudboy knew their habits, passing largely unnoticed.
    The few cories that sniffed the air quickly turned away, often with a sneeze. Hogroot soup, his usual dinner, made even his sweat and breath repellent to the cories. Those few that noticed him tended to leave him alone, unless he was fool enough to get too close.
    They were thicker by the Holy House. The yard was lit with lanterns, drawing the demons away from the village proper. Cories circled the edge of the wardwall, occasionally causing a flare of magic as they swiped at it in frustration.
    Lone cories kept their distance, but a group could surround him, and they were more aggressive in packs.
    But there was bread and ale on the other side of those demons.
    You have to be bold,
his father said.
When I was in Sharaj, the boy who was too timid went hungry.
    The Tender laid the Offering on the altar at Seventhday service, a loaf warm from the oven on a covered platter and ale still foaming in a lidded mug. Ancient wards of protection were etched into the pewter, guarding gifts of comfort and nourishment to any who might come to the Holy House in search of succour.
    After a day, the bread began to harden and the ale was flat, but that first night …
    His mouth watered again. The bread crust would be crisp, the meat beneath soft and chewy. The ale would tickle his throat with bubbles. The taste of them was the closest Mudboy ever felt to Heaven.
    And so he came to the Holy House once a week, if not to pray. His father would have spat at the disrespect, but he was dead and could no longer scold. Mudboy knew the Creator would not be pleased at his theft of the gifts of succour, but what had Everam ever done for him, save take his family away? Bread and ale were poor compensation, but compared to the cold vegetables and raw meat he usually ate, it was a feast worth risking a few cories for.
    Mudboy crouched low, circling the wall until he was out of sight of the window. He waited for a gap in the circling demons, then darted in. The wards chiselled deep into the wall made perfect hand and footholds, and he was over it in seconds, dropping down amidst the markers where the Tender buried the ashes of the dead. The lamplight in the yard cast the names etched into the stones in shadow, but Mudboy needed no light to find his family’s marker.
    Miss you,
he thought, running his fingers over the notches he’d made in the stone, one for every winter they’d been gone. There were nine now. The faces of his family were hazy in his mind’s eye, but the emptiness of their loss had not lessened.
    He kept to the shadows of the markers as he crossed the yard, in case the Tender was secretly watching from another window. In moments he had his back to the Holy House wall, inching his way around to where the wing joined the main structure, forming an L. The low sill of a window on the first floor was perfect to launch himself across to catch the sill of one on the second. As with the outer wall, chiselled wards gave him all the hold he needed to scale the rest of the way to the roof.
    The Tender had