Mercedes Lackey & Rosemary Edghill - Bedlams Edge

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Bedlam's Edge

Table of Contents

Tom O' Bedlam's Song

DEVIL WENT DOWN TO GEORGIA

UNLEAVING

OLD ORDER

WELL MET BY MOONLIGHT

THE WORLD'S MORE FULL OF WEEPING

THE WATERS AND THE WILD

THE REMOVER OF DIFFICULTIES

BRIGHT AS DIAMONDS

BOTTLE OF DJINN

RED FIDDLER

UNNATURAL HISTORY

ALL THAT JAZZ

SIX-SHOOTER

MALL ELVES AND HOW THEY GREW

BEDLAM'S EDGE

edited by

MERCEDES LACKEY

ROSEMARY EDGHILL

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any

resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

authors.

A Baen Books Original

Baen Publishing Enterprises

P.O. Box 1403

Riverdale, NY 10471

www.baen.com

ISBN: 0-7434-0893-7

Cover art by Bob Eggleton

First printing, August 2005

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Bedlam's edge / edited by Mercedes Lackey & Rosemary Edghill.

p. cm.

"A Baen Books Original"--T.p. verso.

ISBN 1-4165-0893-7

Fantasy fiction, American. 2. City and town life--Fiction. I. Lackey, Mercedes. II. Edghill, Rosemary.

PS648.F3B43 2005

813'.0876608321732--dc22

2005011258

Distributed by Simon & Schuster

1230 Avenue of the Americas

New York, NY 10020

Production & design by Windhaven Press, Auburn, NH (www.windhaven.com)

Printed in the United States of America

AUTHOR ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:

BAEN BOOKS by Mercedes Lackey

Bardic Voices:

The Lark and the Wren

The Robin and the Kestrel

The Eagle and the Nightingales

The Free Bards:

Four & Twenty Blackbirds

Bardic Choices: A Cast of Corbies

(with Josepha Sherman)

The Fire Rose

The Wizard of Karres

(with Eric Flint & Dave Freer)

Beyond World's End

(with Rosemary Edghill)

Spirits White as Lightning

(with Rosemary Edghill)

Mad Maudlin

(with Rosemary Edghill)

Bedlam's Edge

(edited with Rosemary Edghill)

Music to My Sorrow

(with Rosemary Edghill)

(forthcoming)

Bedlam's Bard

(with Ellen Guon)

Born to Run

(with Larry Dixon)

Wheels of Fire

(with Mark Shepherd)

Chrome Circle

(with Larry Dixon)

The Chrome Borne

(with Larry Dixon)

The Otherworld

(with Larry Dixon &

Mark Shepherd)

This Scepter'd Isle

(with Roberta Gellis)

Ill Met by Moonlight

(with Roberta Gellis)

Castle of Deception

(with Josepha Sherman)

Fortress of Frost and Fire

(with Ru Emerson)

Prison of Souls

(with Mark Shepherd)

Lammas Night

Werehunter

Fiddler Fair

Brain Ships

(with Anne McCaffrey &

Margaret Ball)

The Sword of Knowledge

(with C.J. Cherryh Leslie Fish,

& Nancy Asire)

The Shadow of the Lion

(with Eric Flint & Dave Freer)

This Rough Magic

(with Eric Flint & Dave Freer)

BAEN BOOKS by ROSEMARY EDGHILL

Warslayer

Tom O' Bedlam's Song

For to see Mad Tom of Bedlam

Ten thousand miles I traveled

Mad Maudlin goes on dirty toes

To save her shoes from gravel.

Chorus:

Still I sing bonny boys, bonny mad boys

Bedlam boys are bonny

For they all go bare and they live by the air

And they want no drink nor money.

Alternative Chorus:

While I do sing, any food

Feeding drink or clothing?

Come dame or maid, be not afraid,

Poor Tom will injure nothing.

I went down to Satan's kitchen

To break my fast one morning

And there I got souls piping hot

All on the spit a-turning.

There I took a cauldron

Where boiled ten thousand harlots

Though full of flame I drank the same

To the health of all such varlets.

My staff has murdered giants

My bag a long knife carries

To cut mince pies from children's thighs

For which to feed the fairies.

No gypsy, slut or doxy

Shall win my mad Tom from me

I'll weep all night, with stars I'll fight

The fray shall well become me.

From the hag and hungry goblin

That into rags would rend ye,

All the sprites that stand by the naked man

In the book of moons, defend ye.

With a thought I took for Maudlin,

And a cruse of cockle pottage,

With a thing thus tall, Sky bless you all,

I befell into this dotage.

I slept not since the Conquest,

Till then I never waked,

Till the naked boy of love where I lay

Me found and stript me naked.

I know more than Apollo,

For oft when he lies sleeping

I see the stars at mortal wars

In the wounded welkin weeping.

The moon embrace her shepherd,

And the queen of love her warrior,

While the first doth horn the star of morn,

And the next the heavenly farrier.

Of thirty years have I

Twice twenty been enraged

And of forty been three times fifteen

In durance soundly caged.

On the lordly lofts of Bedlam

With stubble soft and dainty,

Brave bracelets strong, sweet whips, ding-dong,

With wholesome hunger plenty.

When I short have shorn my sour face

And swigged my horny barrel

In an oaken inn, I pound my skin

As a suit of gilt apparel.

The moon's my constant mistress,

And the lonely owl my marrow;

The flaming drake and the night crow make

Me music to my sorrow.

The spirits white as lightening

Would on my travels guide me

The stars would shake and the moon would quake

Whenever they espied me.

And then that I'll be murdering

The Man in the Moon to the powder

His staff I'll break, his dog I'll shake

And there'll howl no demon louder.

With a host of furious fancies,

Whereof I am commander,

With a burning spear and a horse of air

To the wilderness I wander.

By a knight of ghosts and shadows

I summoned am to tourney

Ten leagues beyond the wide world's end—

Methinks it is no journey.

The palsy plagues my pulses

When I prig your pigs or pullen

Your culvers take, or matchless make

Your Chanticleer or sullen.

When I want provant, with Humphry

I sup, an when benighted

I repose in Paul's with waking souls,

Yet never am affrighted.

The Gipsy Snap an Pedro

Are none of Tom's comradoes,

The punk I scorn, and the cutpurse sworn

And the roaring boy's bravadoes.

The meek, the white, the gentle,

Me handle not nor spare not;

But those that cross Tom Rhinoceros

Do what the panther dare not.

That of your five sound senses

You never be forsaken,

Nor wander from your selves with Tom

Abroad to beg your bacon.

I now reprent that ever

Poor Tom was so disdained

My wits are lost since him I crossed

Which makes me thus go chained.

So drink to Tom of Bedlam

Go fill the seas in barrels

I'll drink it all, well brewed with gall

And maudlin drunk I'll quarrel.

—Anonymous

DEVIL WENT DOWN TO

GEORGIA

Mercedes Lackey

"The Damnyankees got the Devil with 'em."

Seth Carpenter generally didn't pay a lot of attention to the women when they gossiped around the

fireplace of a night. Men didn't bother with that kind of palaver. Maybe he was only thirteen, but he was

a Man, by gum, because Pappy had put him in charge of the place when he went off fighting the

Damnyankees.

Except Pappy hadn't done so good. He hadn't been gone a month, when his stuff come back with a

scrawled "We regrets to inform you, Miz Carpenter" note that the preacher had read to Mam a week

later. Not that she didn't already know when the stuff come back . . . didn't take words on paper to tell

her what'd happened.

So now Seth was in charge, permanent like. Mam hadn't liked it much, but he'd made some changes.

Ground didn't get plowed and stock tended by itself, and he didn't see any good reason why his sisters

couldn't shed some petticoats, tie up their skirts, and put a hand to it too. Yep, and pick up Seth's old

squirrel rifle (he used Pappy's now) and learn to shoot something for the pot.

"Someone will see their legs!"

That was a laugh. Even if they weren't living in a holler so small it didn't even have a name, who would

see them legs but God and other womenfolk? And he didn't reckon God cared.

Girls didn't care either. In fact, he reckoned Cassie fair relished being shut of them petticoats, the way

she frisked around. They'd got through the summer and fall pretty good, better'n most, had a good

harvest—and that was another change Seth had made. Army had taken Pappy, so he figgered they'd

paid the Army 'bout all they owed. Talked Mam around to that notion too, though, mind, it hadn't taken

much talking. Most of the harvest went into hiding, and so did the stock. And when collectors came

around looking, there weren't much to take away.

Butchering hadn't been easy, but by then, Mam had come around to the notion that there were times

when womenfolk needed to do things as weren't proper. So when time came to do the winter hunting

and butchering, she'd been right there, looking a fair sight thinner without all that cloth flapping around. So

they'd got the farm pig done and smoked up, and he'd got a wild sow too; pure luck, that was, she was

in the larder now. Traded the rest of the pigs for what Mam didn't do—and for white flour and

gunpowder. Took down some geese and ducks in passage, smoked them. With winter here and frost on

the ground of a morning, he was working now on his stalking gear, because deer cost a bullet apiece, and

he didn't reckon on wasting any.

With winter solid, there was time for visiting, though, which, what with Seth and the girls all chopping

wood, meant that as the Carpenter hearth was the coziest, and the Carpenter larder seemed a little better

stocked than most, seems the womenfolk turned up here more often than not.

Well, Seth didn't mind. There was always a big pot of black-eyed peas with a hambone in it, plenty of

johnnycake, and truth to tell, the women did come in handy. Didn't mind helping Mam out before

everybody settled to jabber. Did some sewing and the like for her. Had a quilting bee. Pretty handy.

Except when they started turning their tongues to stuff like this.

"Damnyankees don't need no Devil t' get up t' deviltry," he said sourly. "And anyrate, what you worried

'bout? They ain't never comin' here. Even if they couldfind us, they ain't nothin' here wuth their time."

"They's a holler full of womenfolk, all alone!" began one of the hens, starting that hysterical hencackle

that'd get all the rest of the coop going.

"They's a holler full of womenfolk as can pick up they skirts and scoot in the woods, an' nobody never

gonna find us unless we wants t'be found!" said Cassie, cutting right through the palaver to the heart of it.

"Wegot hidey-holes already, right an' tight an' cozy. Seth he'ped us. An' if you ain't, then you're durn

fools!"

"Cassie!" said Mam, aghast. "Don't speak unless you're spoke to!"

"No, she's right, Mam," said Seth, taking up his duty as The Man. He looked around at the

half-shocked, half-frightened faces of the other women. "Jest 'cause I don't b'lieve the Damnyankees is

comin' here, don't mean I don't think we oughta be ready. We cain't fight 'em, so we gotta hide. They

come here, they gonna find the house, with nothin' in it but a kettle o' beans, 'nuff provisions for a week,

mebbe, few clothes, and nothin' else. Got the stock in hidin', got the food in hidin', an' got hidey-holes all

over them hills. An' if'n you-all haven't done the same, you oughta. Right, Cassie?"

She nodded. He noticed then, as if he hadn't seen her before, that she was getting pretty, with her

corn-gold hair and her bright blue eyes.

Now, maybe if there had been other men here, or even another boy Seth's age, someone would have

started talking about "coward's ways" and "standing and fighting for what's ours." But there weren't any

other men, and in the past six-eight months, he'd come to learn that women—once you'd gotten 'em past

all that "proper" and "womanly" nonsense—were a lot more practical than men.

So— "How'd you hide the stock?" asked one and "What kinda hidey-holes?" asked another, and pretty

soon Cassie and Mam and Delia and Rose were telling the other womenfolk how to spread their

provisions around, keep 'em safe from varmints, how to look for places where, if you had to and the

Damnyankees burned the cabin down out of spite, you could live out the winter all right.

He had to watch 'em—catch 'em sharp when he thought one or another of 'em was going to say "Oh,

you can share—" or "I'll just show you—" because you start telling and showing one woman and pretty

soon all of 'em knew where something was, and even ifthey was honest, being women, they couldn't help

but spill it out and there went your stash or your hidey-hole.

Some of 'em started on about it being too much trouble to take your stuff out of the larder and hide it

everywhere. It was harder work, true, keeping things going with the provisions hidden all over the

place—you had to go out every few days to get the next couple of days' supplies. Meaning Seth; he was

the woodswise one, and he was careful to make sure nothing bigger nor a bluejay was spying on him. But

since he was hunting anyway, every day, he'd made it part of his hunting round. And true enough, it had

been hard to build varmint-proof shelters for the stock out in the woods, harder to go from shelter to

shelter to tend the stock, but—they only had one mule, and if he got took, it would be bad. Chickens,

now, they were Cassie's special chore, and he reckoned she pretty well liked to go where he'd put 'em.

And pigs were doing all right.

So if they could do it, so could everybody else. No need to go offer to share.

"Hidey-holes ain't gonna help you when the Devil rides up out from under Stormytop." It was that same,

dour-face biddy that had spoke up the first time. New face in the last couple weeks; somebody's cousin,

come here from some bigger town, place where they called thesselves a town. Hadn't liked her when

she'd been introduced, didn't like her now. She squinted her eyes at him, and frowned. "Devil, he's got

him a pack o' Hounds o' Hell, an he's got him a posse o' Ghost Riders. They kin sniff you out wherever

you are."

"Oh, yeah?" Seth said, thoroughly tired of this by now. "An' what'dyou know about it?"

"Seth!" said Mam, scandalized. "Manners!"

"I seen 'im," said the dour-face woman, squinting harder. "Iseen 'im, with my own eyes. He come up

outa the ground, with his purty face an' his black heart an' his black horse with eyes like fire. I didn' see

the pack, but Iheerd it, under the ground, bayin'. An' I wasn't stickin' around to see if they come up. I

hightailed it outa there. Good thing, too, 'cause next day, there weren't nothin' left of Cook Spinney but

burned-out cabins."

Shocked silence. Into which Seth snorted.

"So there, you jest said it,you ran, an' you got out," he declared. "Devil or man, you jest hightail it into

them woods and find you a hidey-hole, and there you be. 'Sides, you give me a good reason why the

Devil'd bother with a place as hasn't even got a name when there's better pickin's anywhere else?"

That was plain good sense and it calmed them right down again.

Even though he didn't believe it himself. Because he knew about that Devil, or one like it. He'd heard

about it from someone he trusted. It was the business about the horse with the eyes of fire and the pack

baying underground that had told him the fool woman was speaking the truth. And he knew one thing

more.

That Devil was looking for a special kind of person. A person like his sister Cassie. If he got within a

certain range of her, he'dknow she was there, and he'd come a-looking for her.

So when the gibble-gabble womenfolk had cleared out, and before the family went off to bed—he slept

on the hearth and all the girls piled in the big bed with Mam now; it'd comforted all of 'em after Pappy

was gone—he made like a big yawn and said, "Mam, I reckon I need t'be gone all day t'morrow, an I

reckon on takin' Cassie with me."

She gave him a sharpish look. "And fer what call?"

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Bedlam'sEdgeTableofContentsTomO'Bedlam'sSongDEVILWENTDOWNTOGEORGIAUNLEAVINGOLDORDERWELLMETBYMOONLIGHTTHEWORLD'SMOREFULLOFWEEPINGTHEWATERSANDTHEWILDTHEREMOVEROFDIFFICULTIESBRIGHTASDIAMONDSBOTTLEOFDJINNREDFIDDLERUNNATURALHISTORYALLTHATJAZZSIX-SHOOTERMALLELVESANDHOWTHEYGREWBEDLAM'SEDGEeditedbyMERCEDESL...

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Mercedes Lackey & Rosemary Edghill - Bedlams Edge

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