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  Praise for

  THE WARDED MAN

  “I enjoyed The Warded Man immensely. There is much to admire in Peter Brett’s writing, and his concept is brilliant. Action and suspense all the way; he made me care about his characters and want to know what’s going to happen next.”

  —TERRY BROOKS

  “Peter Brett’s tremendously readable first novel, The Warded Man, is set in a harsh and feudal world in which demons rule the night. No one is free until a hero rises who is willing to defy the demons, but at a terrible price. The Warded Man works not only as a great adventure novel, but as a reflection on the nature of heroism.”

  —CHARLAINE HARRIS

  “[An] impressive debut about old-fashioned heroism.”

  —The Kansas City Star

  “Brett ably blends fantasy and horror in this arresting first novel, the first in a planned series. An imaginative and exciting tale, recommended where there is interest in epic fantasy.”

  —Library Journal (starred review)

  “Brett’s fantasy debut is a highly readable adventure with a unique setting and three strong protagonists. Brett includes plenty of exciting battles, terrifying monsters, and heart-wrenching moments to make the focus of his story—the development of flawed, ordinary children into legends—believable. Consider the series this begins worth tracking.”

  —Booklist

  “Brett’s debut builds slowly and grimly on a classic high-fantasy framework of black-and-white morality and bloodshed. Brett’s gritty tale will appeal to those who tire of sympathetic villains and long for old-school orc massacres.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “A strong debut. Its highly inventive plot will captivate the imagination immediately. A page turner with a satisfying climax, it promises much more to come in future books.”

  —Romantic Times BOOKreviews Magazine

  “An assured and promising first novel from author Peter V. Brett. The world he has created is vivid and intriguing … definitely worth a read.”

  —SF Site

  “The plot development from the harsh banality of small village life, to the complex immensity of city dwelling, and then to the world outside most humans’ knowledge, is very well done. The book’s biggest strength, though, is the characterization …. A great page turner which … soon becomes an irresistible read. The characters evolve into people you care about and the world is pleasantly engaging …. I was pleased, though a little surprised, to place this in my top five Fantasy reads for 2008.”

  —sffworld.com

  “Captivating and well written, quickly drawing readers in. The Warded Man is a must-read for anyone looking for a new fantasy world to explore.”

  —School Library Journal

  “Brett provides complex characters and plenty of action.”

  —SFRevu

  “Overall with superb characterization, suspenseful action and accomplished writing, The Warded Man is a very assured debut that will make its way onto many Best of 2008 lists. Highly, highly recommended.”

  —Fantasy Book Critic

  “Not only did I enjoy what I’d read but I’m left in the position of eagerly waiting to find out what’s to come.”

  —Graeme’s Fantasy Book Review

  “Not since Patrick Rothfuss’ The Name of the Wind have I been this pleased with a debut. The Warded Man is character-driven fantasy at its page-turning best. The three main protagonists are fully realized people—magnificent and flawed at the same time. Watch them grow up in a world designed to beat them down. Can’t wait to see what happens next.”

  —Mysterious Galaxy Books, San Diego

  “A gripping adventure—a very promising start to a new series, and an excellent first novel.”

  —Locus

  “A fabulous new fantasy series by Brett. The new world he has created is complete, complicated and fascinating. Brett’s ability to make his creations feel real is the stamp of excellent fantasy. This is a series that is likely to become a classic.”

  —The Cairns Post (Cairns, Australia)

  “It’s rare these days that I can’t put a book down without my fingers itching to pick it up again, and rarer still for it to be a debut book from a first-time author. But Peter V. Brett’s The Warded Man comes up trumps. Brett has the knack of making you care about his characters and want to know what happens to them. And better yet, to make you hungrily look forward to the next book, The Desert Spear.”

  —The Dominion Post (Wellington, New Zealand)

  “An absolute masterpiece … For me, the novel was literally ‘unputdownable,’ and certainly deserves to be the next Big Thing in dark fantasy.”

  —HorrorScope (Woodvale, Australia)

  “Very likeable … a very accomplished debut fantasy, without doubt exciting and with exceptionally well-rendered characters—the fate of whom the reader cares very much about. How the fight against demonkind will develop, I cannot guess, but I will most certainly be visiting Peter V. Brett’s misty and murky world to find out. Recommended.”

  —SFRevu (U.K.)

  “Makes you genuinely excited by the idea of reading more … will leave you impatient for the next installment.”

  —SFX (U.K.)

  “Like many fantasy epics before it, this debut from Peter V. Brett bursts onto shelves with much anticipation and plenty of buzz. On opening this promised gem of literature, I was surprised to find that this time the hype is largely justified …. The Warded Man is a real treat, with Brett displaying a bucket-load of talent in making the familiar so gripping.”

  —Total Sci-Fi Online

  “Brett is a spectacular writer. I cannot recommend The Warded Man highly enough. It is thoroughly entertaining, having the right mix of suspense, action and introspection. It never bogs down for any of its length, as Brett paces the story masterfully. The world itself and the concept of the wards make the story unique among epic fantasies. The tale ends on a note of expectation, making me eager to read the second book, The Desert Spear, to find out what happens. The Warded Man is truly unput-downable. Make sure you have plenty of time for reading it, because you will not want to leave its pages for anything.”

  —Grasping for the Wind

  The Warded Man is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2009 by Peter Brett

  Map copyright © 2010 by Andrew Ashton

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Del Rey, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  DEL REY is a registered trademark and the Del Rey colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.

  Originally published in the United Kingdom in hardcover as The Painted Man by HarperCollins Publishers, London, in 2008 and subsequently in the United States by Del Rey, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., in 2009.

  eISBN: 978-0-345-51265-9

  www.delreybooks.com

  v3.1_r3

  To Otzi,

  the original Warded Man

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Praise for The Warden Man

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Map

  Acknowledgments

  SECTION 1 TIBBET’S BROOK

  Chapter 1. Aftermath

  Chapter 2. If It Was You

  Chapter 3. A Night Alone

  Chapter 4. Leesha

  Chapter 5. Crowded Home

  Chapter 6. The Secrets of Fire

  Chapter 7. Rojer

  C
hapter 8. To the Free Cities

  Chapter 9. Fort Miln

  SECTION II MILN

  Chapter 10. Apprentice

  Chapter 11. Breach

  Chapter 12. Library

  Chapter 13. There Must Be More

  Chapter 14. The Road to Angiers

  Chapter 15. Fiddle Me a Fortune

  Chapter 16. Attachments

  SECTION III KRASIA

  Chapter 17. Ruins

  Chapter 18. Rite of Passage

  Chapter 19. The First Warrior of Krasia

  Chapter 20. Alagai’sharak

  Chapter 21. Only a Chin

  Chapter 22. Play the Hamlets

  Chapter 23. Rebirth

  Chapter 24. Needles and Ink

  SECTION IV CUTTER’S HOLLOW

  Chapter 25. A New Venue

  Chapter 26. Hospit

  Chapter 27. Nightfall

  Chapter 28. Secrets

  Chapter 29. In the Predawn Light

  Chapter 30. Plague

  Chapter 31. The Battle of Cutter’s Hollow

  Chapter 32. Cutter’s No More

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Special thanks to all the people who test-read this book: Dani, Myke, Amelia, Neil, Matt, Joshua, Steve, Mom, Dad, Trisha, Netta, and Cobie. Your advice and encouragement made it possible for me to turn a hobby into something more. And to my editors, Liz and Emma, who took a chance on a new author and challenged me to exceed even my own high standards. I could never have done it without you.

  SECTION I

  TIBBET’S

  BROOK

  318-319 AR

  (After Return)

  CHAPTER 1

  AFTERMATH

  319 AR

  THE GREAT HORN SOUNDED.

  Arlen paused in his work, looking up at the lavender wash of the dawn sky. Mist still clung to the air, bringing with it a damp, acrid taste that was all too familiar. A quiet dread built in his gut as he waited in the morning stillness, hoping that it had been his imagination. He was eleven years old.

  There was a pause, and then the horn blew twice in rapid succession. One long and two short meant south and east. The Cluster by the Woods. His father had friends among the cutters. Behind Arlen, the door to the house opened, and he knew his mother would be there, covering her mouth with both hands.

  Arlen returned to his work, not needing to be told to hurry. Some chores could wait a day, but the stock still needed to be fed and the cows milked. He left the animals in the barns and opened the hay stores, slopped the pigs, and ran to fetch a wooden milk bucket. His mother was already squatting beneath the first of the cows. He snatched the spare stool and they found cadence in their work, the sound of milk striking wood drumming a funeral march.

  As they moved to the next pair down the line, Arlen saw his father begin hitching their strongest horse, a five-year-old chestnut-colored mare named Missy, to the cart. His face was grim as he worked.

  What would they find this time?

  Before long, they were in the cart, trundling toward the small cluster of houses by the woods. It was dangerous there, over an hour’s run to the nearest warded structure, but the lumber was needed. Arlen’s mother, wrapped in her worn shawl, held him tightly as they rode.

  “I’m a big boy, Mam,” Arlen complained. “I don’t need you to hold me like a baby. I’m not scared.” It wasn’t entirely true, but it would not do for the other children to see him clinging to his mother as they rode in. They made mock of him enough as it was.

  “I’m scared,” his mother said. “What if it’s me who needs to be held?”

  Feeling suddenly proud, Arlen pulled close to his mother again as they traveled down the road. She could never fool him, but she always knew what to say just the same.

  A pillar of greasy smoke told them more than they wanted to know long before they reached their destination. They were burning the dead. And starting the fires this early, without waiting for others to arrive and pray, meant there were a great many. Too many to pray over each one, if the work was to be complete before dusk.

  It was more than five miles from Arlen’s father’s farm to the Cluster by the Woods. By the time they arrived, the few remaining cabin fires had been put out, though in truth there was little left to burn. Fifteen houses, all reduced to rubble and ash.

  “The woodpiles, too,” Arlen’s father said, spitting over the side of the cart. He gestured with his chin toward the blackened ruin that remained of a season’s cutting. Arlen grimaced at the thought of how the rickety fence that penned the animals would have to last another year, and immediately felt guilty. It was only wood, after all.

  The town Speaker approached their cart as it pulled up. Selia, whom Arlen’s mother sometimes called Selia the Barren, was a hard woman, tall and thin, with skin like tough leather. Her long gray hair was pulled into a tight bun, and she wore her shawl like a badge of office. She brooked no nonsense, as Arlen had learned more than once at the end of her stick, but today he was comforted by her presence. Like Arlen’s father, something about Selia made him feel safe. Though she had never had children of her own, Selia acted as a parent to everyone in Tibbet’s Brook. Few could match her wisdom, and fewer still her stubbornness. When you were on Selia’s good side, it felt like the safest place in the world.

  “It’s good that you’ve come, Jeph,” Selia told Arlen’s father. “Silvy and young Arlen, too,” she said, nodding to them. “We need every hand we can get. Even the boy can help.”

  Arlen’s father grunted, stepping down from the cart. “I brought my tools,” he said. “Just tell me where we can throw in.”

  Arlen collected the precious tools from the back of their cart. Metal was scarce in the Brook, and his father was proud of his two shovels, his pick, and his saw. They would all see heavy use this day.

  “How many lost?” Jeph asked, though he didn’t really seem to want to know.

  “Twenty-seven,” Selia said. Silvy choked and covered her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. Jeph spat again.

  “Any survivors?” he asked.

  “A few,” Selia said. “Manie”—she pointed with her stick at a boy who stood staring at the funeral pyre—“ran all the way to my house in the dark.”

  Silvy gasped. No one had ever run so far and lived. “The wards on Brine Cutter’s house held for most of the night,” Selia went on. “He and his family watched everything. A few others fled the corelings and succored there, until the fires spread and their roof caught. They waited in the burning house until the beams started to crack, and then took their chances outside in the minutes before dawn. The corelings killed Brine’s wife Meena and their son Poul, but the others made it. The burns will heal and the children will be all right in time, but the others …”

  She didn’t need to finish the sentence. Survivors of a demon attack had a way of dying soon after. Not all, or even most, but enough. Some of them took their own lives, and others simply stared blankly, refusing to eat or drink until they wasted away. It was said you did not truly survive an attack until a year and a day had passed.

  “There are still a dozen unaccounted for,” Selia said, but with little hope in her voice.

  “We’ll dig them out,” Jeph agreed grimly, looking at the collapsed houses, many still smoldering. The cutters built their homes mostly out of stone to protect against fire, but even stone would burn if the wards failed and enough flame demons gathered in one place.

  Jeph joined the other men and a few of the stronger women in clearing the rubble and carting the dead to the pyre. The bodies had to be burned, of course. No one would want to be buried in the same ground the demons rose out of each night. Tender Harral, the sleeves of his robe rolled up to bare his thick arms, lifted each into the fire himself, muttering prayers and drawing wards in the air as the flames took them.

  Silvy joined the other women in gathering the younger children and tending to the wounded under the watchful eye of the Brook’s Herb Gatherer, Coline Trigg. But no herbs could ease the pai
n of the survivors. Brine Cutter, also called Brine Broad-shoulders, was a great bear of a man with a booming laugh who used to throw Arlen into the air when they came to trade for wood. Now Brine sat in the ashes beside his ruined house, slowly knocking his head against the blackened wall. He muttered to himself and clutched his arms tightly, as if cold.

  Arlen and the other children were put to work carrying water and sorting through the woodpiles for salvageable lumber. There were still a few warm months left to the year, but there would not be time to cut enough wood to last the winter. They would be burning dung again this year, and the house would reek.

  Again Arlen weathered a wave of guilt. He was not in the pyre, nor banging his head in shock, having lost everything. There were worse fates than a house smelling of dung.

  More and more villagers arrived as the morning wore on. Bringing their families and whatever provisions they could spare, they came from Fishing Hole and Town Square; they came from the Boggin’s Hill, and Soggy Marsh. Some even came all the way from Southwatch. And one by one, Selia greeted them with the grim news and put them to work.

  With more than a hundred hands, the men doubled their efforts, half of them continuing to dig as the others descended upon the only salvageable structure left in the Cluster: Brine Cutter’s house. Selia led Brine away, somehow supporting the giant man as he stumbled, while the men cleared the rubble and began hauling new stones. A few took out warding kits and began to paint fresh wards while children made thatch. The house would be restored by nightfall.

  Arlen was partnered with Cobie Fisher in hauling wood. The children had amassed a sizable pile, though it was only a fraction of what had been lost. Cobie was a tall, thickly built boy with dark curls and hairy arms. He was popular among the other children, but it was popularity built at others’ expense. Few children cared to weather his insults, and fewer still his beatings.