The Demon Cycle Series Books 1 and 2: The Painted Man, The Desert Spear
Books one and two of the impressive debut fantasy series The Demon Cycle by Sunday Times bestselling author Peter V. Brett.
This bundle includes The Painted Man and The Desert Spear.
Humanity has been brought to the brink of extinction. Each night, the world is overrun by demons–bloodthirsty creatures of nightmare that have been hunting and killing humanity for over 300 years.
A scant few hamlets and half-starved city-states are all that remain of a once proud civilization, and it is only by hiding behind wards, ancient symbols with the power to repel the demons, that they survive. A handful of Messengers brave the night to keep the lines of communication open between the increasingly isolated populace.
But there was a time when the demons were not so bold. A time when wards did more than hold the demons at bay. They allowed man to fight back, and to win…
The Painted Man and The Desert Spear are the first two books in Peter V. Brett’s epic series The Demon Cycle.
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THE PAINTED MAN
AND THE DESERT SPEAR
Books One and Two of The Demon Cycle
PETER V. BRETT
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
HarperVoyager
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
77–85 Fulham Palace Road,
Hammersmith, London W6 8JB
www.harpervoyagerbooks.com
The Painted Man First published in Great Britain by HarperVoyager 2008
The Desert Spear First published in Great Britain by HarperVoyager 2010
Copyright © Peter V. Brett
Peter V. Brett asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Ebook Bundle Edition (containing The Painted Man, The Desert Spear and an extract from The Daylight War) © 2012 ISBN: 9780007509812
Version: 2014-12-05
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Table of Contents
THE
PAINTED MAN
PETER V. BRETT
To Otzi,the original Painted Man.
Contents
Chapter 6: The Secrets of Fire
Chapter 13: There Must Be More
Chapter 14: The Road to Angiers
Chapter 15: Fiddle Me a Fortune
Chapter 19: The First Warrior of Krasia
Chapter 29: In the Pre-dawn Light
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 amongst 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-coloured 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 towards 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 travelled 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 everyone to arrive and pray, meant there were a great many. Too many to pray over each one if the work was to be completed before dusk.
