The Maiden of Moonfane Forge

It wasn’t an overly warm day—the beginning of spring in the mountains tended to feel like lingering winter still clinging to new greenery, with belatedly receding tendrils of frost—yet still the noontide sun felt overbearing to Vetch, and he was already sweating in his padded garrison uniform. He and a handful of garrison soldiers rode slowly behind Captain Tarese, as she in turn rode beside a herdswoman and her teenaged son along what had been a long line of fencing that divided one farmstead’s yak herd from another’s. This particular herdswoman was the head of a group who watched over both herds. As she pointed out the worst of the damage, she told a story that had become all too familiar already to Vetch and his companions that day: what seemed like a small army of livestock rustlers had descended on the pastures in the night and begun letting out as many yaks as they could. Those watching the herds who had tried to get to the alarm bells had been driven off and had little choice but to flee to the town. What some of those people had witnessed and heard as they had fled was truly baffling. It was the thieves themselves who rang the alarm bells, not any of the farmers or shepherds or herdsmen.

All that morning, Vetch and his fellow soldiers had accompanied their captain on an inspection of all the farms hit, and all that morning it had been the same story told to them by everyone they had spoken to, whether they kept two yaks or oversaw two hundred: the rustlers were numerous and chiefly concerned with freeing as many of the animals as possible, and most strangely, it had been the rustlers themselves who had sounded the alarms.

But that wasn’t all, as Vetch and his companions had witnessed for themselves all morning now that daylight could show them the true import of the attack. The thieves had not been content only to open the gates of the various paddocks and pens. They had in fact destroyed as many of the enclosures and fences as they could. Even now Vetch noted an axe with a broken handle left behind in the grass by one of the perpetrators, beside the splintered remnants of fencing. He recalled, too, how the man Wenzl had hit with an arrow had also dropped an axe. These thieves had come prepared, and done much worse than stolen some valuable animals; they had obliterated the very pens that the remaining beasts should have been herded back into. There was simply nowhere left in most cases for all the milling yaks to be gathered up and returned to. Some farmers and herdsman were furious over it; others destitute. Even now, hundreds of the prized beasts roamed aimlessly in the roads, or mingled in pastures not their own, or trampled through newly planted crops. And many others had been driven to stampeding off into the night, who knows how many miles away from their home farms by now. Even if they could all be found and brought back, where could they be securely housed?

The slow ride back into town was a solemn one. Vetch had always known their captain to be free with sharing her thoughts with the rest of their rank and file. She never left her soldiers in the dark about what she was thinking or what she expected of them. So, he found it troubling now that she said not a word during the ride back. Her expression was grave and her brow tense. It would be her job now to report the extent of the losses to the heads of town. Vetch could understand something of how weighty a task that would be. The day’s dawning had brought to everyone in Moonfane Forge—townsmen, farmers, and soldiers alike—a dawn of understanding about how truly serious their situation was. It was not just the loss of a few animals; not even the scattering of so many that could be gathered up and brought back to safe enclosures. With no place to house them, many more could still be lost, to predators, to other roving thieves, to the tangle of dangerous woodlands to the east. This could mean the end of some farmsteads, the ruin of entire families, and a hit to the livelihood and reputation of Moonfane Forge itself for years to come. Vetch sighed and wondered how Captain Tarese would break the news to those who ran the town, even as behind him a couple of his companions discussed the very same topic in hushed tones.

Vetch knew that the entire garrison had done what they were trained to do. It had seemed a victory of sorts when they were all riding back to town the night before. Now, it felt hollow. How could they have been prepared for this? How could they have prevented it? Could he have led his group better? On top of those questions were now the myriad others about just what the rustlers had meant to accomplish by their actions. It had seemed ludicrous, at first, that the rustlers themselves had rung the alarm bells. But everyone they had spoken to on this day had agreed in no uncertain terms that that was exactly what had happened. The thieves themselves had sounded all the alarms. Why?

Captain Tarese led them to the stables and then relieved them of their duty for the time being, but warned them to not spend the day at the taverns, because some of them might be needed again for gate duty or patrols that evening. Vetch needed no second bidding. He had another destination in mind.

As he passed under the platform above the South Gate, he looked up into the unmistakably hung-over face of Wenzl. The young soldier nodded. Vetch returned the gesture.

“Vetch,” called the man standing guard beside Wenzl. “You look as sour as the captain did. It really that bad?”

Vetch shaded his eyes and put on an attempt at a smile, but agreed, “It’s not good.”

“Damn,” said the man. In that one word was a full summation of the malaise that would be making its way through the entire garrison by the time Vetch had reached the Residential District of town. Word traveled fast. The rest of the soldiers would soon know what he and the small group who had ridden out with their captain had seen that morning.

The day felt no cooler to Vetch, now that he was treading the cobbled streets up and down the hilly districts that composed Moonfane Forge. Even with a decent breeze from the mountain sweeping down narrow avenues, he still felt hot from the exertion and cursed himself for not stopping by the barracks to trade his heavy uniform out for something he had not been sweating in all morning. As he frequently did lately, he paused at the head of the street that led a gently winding course up to the little house Lily shared with Mage Marigold. He was tempted to pay them a call, but then he remembered that Lily would be training this day. Even if they were home, it would be best not to disturb them. As he understood it, magic took a kind of concentration most non-mages could not grasp. Once again, his mind wandered to tomorrow and their date for a day strolling the markets together. He would see her soon enough.

His true destination was Ennric’s house. The old soldier and his wife lived farther up in the Residential District, near the Trades District. Ennric’s home had once been a shop that sold horse tack, as Vetch understood it. But that was before Vetch’s time. Before even Ennric’s time. Nowadays, it was a dwelling that suited the old soldier well. It bore neither the plaster nor paint that was in fashion on the exteriors of Moonfane Forge homes. Instead, it was composed of plain timber atop a stone and mortar foundation. The interior was no less rough and rustic. It fit Ennric. Vetch could imagine himself living in such a home one day when he settled down.

Ennric was sitting on a padded chair on his wide and shaded porch beside a short table bearing a pitcher and cup when Vetch arrived.

“Look what the cat’s dragged in,” he greeted Vetch.

Vetch came up the stone steps and stood before the man. “Afternoon, old man. You didn’t bring a chair out for me?” he asked, gesturing around as if affronted. He regarded Ennric, noting how unused he was to seeing him in his regular townsman’s clothes, rather than his garrison black and silver. “How’s your back feeling?”

Ennric sat up straighter in his chair as if testing it. “Better than you look. I’m guessing it’s not good news. Hang on, boy, let me get you that chair. Arlette!”

“Don’t bother her, I can get the chair,” said Vetch, but before he could step to the door, Ennric’s wife came outside. She favored her husband briefly with a raised-brow expression, before turning a smile toward Vetch.

“Vetch, welcome. It’s good to see you. To what do we owe the pleasure?” Ennric’s wife Arlette wore her years a fair bit better than her husband. She displayed only the beginning streaks of gray through her thick black hair, while the crow’s feet at the corners of her dark eyes, and the lines around her mouth, contrastingly spoke less of rough decades of soldiering and more of a lifetime of smiles and laughter. “Can I fetch you a cup or are you still on duty? This one’s having ice wine.” She indicated Ennric.

“I’m off duty for now, but that could change later, so no wine for me,” said Vetch. “I stopped by with some news.”

“Coffee, then?” she offered. “You look like you could use some.”

Vetch brightened at the idea. “Please, yes.”

Arlette smiled. “Grab yourself a chair from inside, and one for me, also. I’ll brew the coffee.”

Once Vetch had settled himself in his chair, with Ennric’s wife joining them, Vetch told Ennric the tale of all he had witnessed in the morning’s visits to all the farms that were attacked, of the destroyed fences and paddocks, how the rustlers had sown panic throughout the herds so that many more animals scattered and fled than were taken, and, the last strange piece of the puzzle, how the thieves themselves had rung the alarm bells. Throughout the recounting, Ennric had sat with a stern look across his wide, weathered face. When it was done, he appeared to collect his thoughts. The old soldier took up the wine pitcher and poured himself and his wife each another cup. Vetch had hardly touched his coffee while speaking. He sipped it now and found it had become lukewarm. The energizing effect it would have on him was the important thing, but that could only last so long. He would need a meal soon. And sleep.

“Why did they ring the bells?” Ennric voiced the obvious question. “If they hadn’t done that, they could’ve gotten away with a lot more of the animals before we were alerted.”

Vetch shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said through a yawn. He set his cup down and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. The previous night’s lack of sleep was preying on his ability to order his thoughts.

“You said they intentionally scattered the yaks,” Arlette offered. “Ennric told me this morning how that had delayed your pursuit of them last night.”

Ennric fixed his wife with an odd stare, something between amusement and false severity.

“What?” she asked.

“This is soldier’s talk, woman.”

“And? What of it?” she rejoined.

“He means you’ll have to dumb things down for us,” said Vetch.

Arlette drew herself up and smiled wryly. “So ... maybe that’s why they rang the bells. Maybe they thought it would help to startle all the other yaks, to make it harder for you to chase them down.”

Vetch and Ennric both considered this.

“It’s possible,” agreed Ennric after a moment. “All the loose animals certainly muddied things for us. But then to take all that time to break all the fences and pens ...”

Vetch nodded. “And they brought axes for it. They planned it out, and took the time to do it. To do all that, and to cease ringing the bells all at the same time to make their escape, would have taken considerable planning and coordinating.”

“All to stick around longer than they needed to, just to break everything?” questioned Arlette.

Ennric threw back the last of his wine, then levered himself up from his chair with a grunt. He walked to the porch rail and leaned heavily on it to look out over the town. “It doesn’t make any sense. They gave themselves less time to avoid the garrison by ringing all the bells ... all while they were destroying fences, which took up more time that they could have used to make off with even more yaks last night.” He shook his head and repeated, “It doesn’t make any sense.”

Vetch had been staring into the dark depths of his coffee. Despite himself, his sleep-deprived mind had begun to wander. But part of Ennric’s musings brought him back to the present.

“Last night,” he said. “They could have taken more yaks last night.”

“Yeah?” said Ennric, turning around to settle his good eye on Vetch. “So why didn’t they?”

“Maybe ... maybe so they could keep taking yaks indefinitely.”

Ennric scowled and crossed his arms. “How so?”

“Think about it,” Vetch said, warming to the notion as it came to him, even as the implication sent a chill down his spine. “Them destroying all the fences and pens means we have nowhere to safely put the animals now; they’re all just roaming around outside of town. There’s no way for us to guard all of them, or even know how far away some of them have wandered. Those thieves can come back any time they please, as many times as they please, to take even more of the yaks in the night, well out of sight of our farms.”

“Then they weren’t scattering them to delay you,” Ennric’s wife said quietly. “They were scattering them to set up more thefts later.”

Ennric stared hard at Vetch. “Shit,” he said at length. “I wish I could find some reasoning to call you wrong right now, boy. Captain Tarese should be told of this. Right now.”

Much more awake now, Vetch drained the rest of his coffee and stood. “Then I’m off to do that. Arlette,” he said and nodded to Ennric’s wife. Then in passing, he clapped Ennric on the shoulder. “Think you’ll be feeling better enough to be back with us tomorrow?”

The old soldier smiled wryly. “Either way, I think I’m going to have to be.”

*

Lily paused at the top of the long stone staircase that led one up to Silver Mine Street, the oldest street at the top of the Silversmith’s District. This place had been where the early silver miners had set up the tent settlement that would eventually grow to become the permanent town of Moonfane Forge. It was a plain and dour section of town, composed of old stone streets and buildings that were the first true buildings built in the area, and seemed always to rest in Mt. Moonfane’s shadow. But being that it also was one of the town’s highest points, it afforded one an astounding overview of Moonfane Forge and its surrounding lands. Lily could not keep the smile from her face as she looked fondly out over her home. Moonfane Forge’s different districts—its houses, gardens, establishments, and courtyards—were spread out below her on their gentle hills and slopes and avenues. Beyond the town itself were all the hilly green pastures and farms and fields. Altogether, the region looked not unlike a giant patchwork quilt thrown haphazardly across the land, so that its rumples were the foothills and valleys upon which everything resided.

A fine and cold mist wafted over Lily from the small seasonal waterfalls that formed high up on the black cliffs behind the town this time of year, when the lower mountain snows began to melt. It created rainbows in the afternoon sunlight which hung across Lily’s vision. It would have been a perfect vision of her beloved town, if not for all the loosely roaming yaks that she could see as brown and white and black dots out in the pastures and upon the roads. The sounding of alarm bells the night before had been terrifying and confusing, and very few townsfolk had been able to find out what it had even been about until morning, when some of the details had spread throughout town. It was a stark reminder now that something more serious than a mere taking of a few animals had been inflicted upon them, and recalled Lily, also, to the reason she now found herself in a part of town she rarely had reason to visit.

Huffing and puffing, Mage-Matron Marigold at last mounted the top step and came to stand beside Lily, ostensibly to also spend a moment taking in the view. Lily offered her arm for support to the old mage, who took it and patted the back of Lily’s hand.

“Thank you, girl. I’m fine.” Marigold chewed her lip in thought, causing her face to become even more wrinkled than it normally was. “One of these days, I’m going to demand they move the town’s Council to some other building.” She waved her hand vaguely at the middle of town below them. “Somewhere over there, like.”

“By the taverns?”

“Why not? ‘S’nothing to be discussed in an old building at the top of a long, long stairway that can’t be discussed over a couple pints at the alehouse down the street.” She grunted and leaned backwards in a stretch. “Ah, but listen to me. I chose to live here, and I still choose to live here. It’s all my town. Silly to complain about the parts of it that make my knees creak.”

“I thought your parents chose to move your family here when you were a young girl.”

Marigold glanced up into Lily’s face with a subtle smile. “Mm. Same thing. At the very least, I chose to come back to stay after traveling enough to see what else was out there.” She chuckled throatily. “And I also typically get to choose if and when I ever walk the streets that have stairs like this one.” She sighed and turned to face the broad stone building up the street that was the meeting place of Moonfane Forge’s town Council, where a runner had bid them come immediately. Marigold nodded to Lily. “Except for today. We are summoned, so let’s dally no longer. This is part of being a town’s mage, Barrier-Caster or otherwise. Consider this a replacement for your lessons for today.”

With that, the old mage strode purposefully up the street and to the old building, with Lily matching her stride. Marigold paused before the solid wood door long enough to push some strands of her long silver hair back up under her kerchief, then she let herself inside.

Lily followed and closed the door behind them. The interior of Moonfane Forge’s Council Building—or, the Silversmith’s Council Building, as it was properly known—was composed of one rectangular hall, a place where official meetings could be held and decisions of import could be made, where the representatives of the town’s various districts could gather and discuss the types of things the heads of a small but prosperous town must discuss. It was also the place where messengers arriving from the King’s Capital City would be received, and official replies were drafted. It was not a place Lily ever had need to visit but for a handful of times in her life. The last time she had been in this room, she realized, had been five years prior, when she was fourteen and had arrived with her parents and Marigold to be officially recorded in the town’s records as Mage Marigold’s mage-apprentice. As it had then, the nicely furnished hall, with its old wood floors, yak’s hair rugs and wall hangings, and antique tables and chairs, smelled to her of the kind of mustiness that no room, no matter how opulent, escaped taking on when it was so old and used so sporadically.

The first thing she noticed as she trailed Marigold into the room, beneath the subdued glow of its candle chandelier, was Vetch. She was surprised to see him here. He stood at the shoulder of the garrison’s captain before the town’s Council members. Everyone in the room had looked up when Lily and Marigold had entered, but Lily’s eyes found and held Vetch’s face in that moment. He looked tired. But as their eyes met, he smiled at her and seemed to stand more squarely. Lily had only the chance to return the smile before Marigold commanded the attention of all in the room.

“I’m here. What’s all this about?” she demanded unceremoniously. The old mage’s keen eyes roved the room and everyone in it, from the two soldiers she chose to stop beside, to the faces of the town’s four Council members—representatives of the Silversmith’s, Trades, Residential Districts, and outlying farmsteads, respectively—to the captain of the town guard, who stood in his brown and yellow uniform with arms crossed and a harried look on his face. None of the people in the room sat at the broad council table. Instead, they were all standing together informally in the center of the room, like a group of acquaintances mingling at a party. Only they all wore looks of concern and stress. Lily got the impression the conversation had been tense before she and her Mage-Matron had interrupted things with their arrival. Marigold looked from one face to another, then raised her hands, palms upward, in a gesture of questioning. “You called for me?”

The representative of the Silversmith’s District was a small and spindly man who had always looked to Lily like a kind of insect, with his hunched posture, bald pate, and thick spectacles. Yet, for his feeble appearance, he was the most skilled silver-worker in Moonfane Forge and could boast a family lineage going back to some of the oldest inhabitants of the town. It was only natural that he was the de facto head of the Silversmith’s Council. The man cleared his throat.

“We did,” he said in his soft voice. “We’ve just been listening to Captain Tarese and one of her men about the ... attack last night. And what the damage could mean.”

“Will mean,” put in Captain Tarese.

The head silversmith hadn’t taken his eyes from Marigold, but nodded in acquiescence to Captain Tarese’s assertion. “How much have you heard about the attack?” he asked Marigold.

“Some soldiers’s gossip,” the mage hedged. “A bunch of thieves broke up some paddocks and made off with some of the animals is what we heard. Though I can tell it was something more serious than the usual bands of ne’er-do-wells thinking they could make their fortune by snatching a yak or two. And you wouldn’t’ve called me here unless you wanted a Barrier cast. The thing I can’t figure is what you’d need one for. Cap’n Tarese’s people did their job, I’ve no doubt.”

“I’m afraid it is serious,” he said wearily. “More serious than even the bedlam of last night portended. I’ll let Captain Tarese tell it and then I’ll tell you the plan we’ve all decided upon.”

Lily and Marigold both turned their attention to the taciturn soldier.

“Where to start?” Tarese seemed to ask herself, then sighed and launched into the tale.

As she filled Marigold in on the details of the attack, Lily caught Vetch’s attention once more and mouthed silently is my family okay? She had to do it twice before he understood. He nodded once to her and Lily breathed a sigh of relief. She had tried to leave by the East Gate that morning to visit her parents and brother to check on their wellbeing, but the soldiers there had advised her to stay in town. And while word had gotten around throughout the day that nobody was hurt in the attack, only animals thieved away, Lily still felt much better to have it confirmed by Vetch. Her eyes stayed on him as he stood behind his captain and turned his attention back to the business at hand. His eyes had lingered long enough that Lily was certain he wished to say more, and now she wondered if they’d get the opportunity to speak after this summoning. Lily felt a sharp jab in her ribs and was startled. She turned to find Marigold had elbowed her.

“Oww,” she whispered.

The old mage didn’t give her the pleasure of reacting. She didn’t even look cross about Lily not paying attention, but simply kept her own attention on the silversmith, who was again speaking, a subtle rebuke to Lily to do the same. She took her Mage-Matron’s lesson and did so, just as the silversmith wrapped up what he had been saying and asked a question. To Lily’s surprise, he asked it not of Marigold alone, but of she and Lily.

“Could the two of you together cast Barriers to be temporary enclosures for the yaks, to protect them while their original fences are rebuilt?”

Lily saw the look that passed across Marigold’s face undisguised. It was the look of a master being asked to do something by someone with no knowledge whatsoever of their craft.

“No,” Marigold said simply. When the head of the Silversmith’s District only knit his brow in confusion, Marigold sighed and elaborated. “Without knowing how long to cast them for? How long will it take to repair the fences? And how many Barriers? And for how many of the yaks? That much Casting, I’d be in Slumber for months. The town’s Barrier would wear out and disappear well before I woke. And Lily ... if Lily tried to do that much Casting alongside me at her current skill, good as she’s coming along, well ...” She looked at Lily, who herself shrugged. Marigold shook her head. “Years in Slumber for her. And that’s all besides the fact that you never want both a mage and her apprentice in Slumber at the same time, because one depends on the other to watch over them. Shall I number off the thousand other reasons that idea wouldn’t work and is, in fact, terrible?”

“No, Mage Marigold, you’ve made your point,” he said and rubbed at the furrows in his brow. “I asked only because I don’t rightly favor the plan we all actually settled upon.”

“And that is?”

Captain Tarese answered. “We’d like you to take down Moonfane Forge’s Barrier. Then the yaks could be herded into town—as many as possible, at least—and kept safe from further thieving here long enough for the fences and paddocks out there to be rebuilt. Once they are, the herds get moved back out to where they belong, and you can re-cast the Barrier.”

The captain of the town guard chose that moment to speak. “Every street and chicken yard is going to be crammed with the great beasts.”

“It’ll be temporary,” argued the head of all the farmsteads. “Or do you want to explain to all the owners of those beasts that we’re just going to leave them out there unguarded, so more of them can be spirited away? Because there aren’t enough soldiers in the garrison to—”

“Alright. Peace,” said the head silversmith. “We argued this already and settled this already. Mage Marigold?” he asked, looking to her.

The old woman chewed her lip a moment and nodded slowly. “Seems sound to me. To dispel the Barrier would cost me only a few days in Slumber. I’ll probably wake before the new fences are finished. When that’s done, and the animals are back in their pastures, I’ll re-cast the town Barrier.”

“I don’t like the Barrier being down,” said the guard captain.

“Nor do any of us,” said Captain Tarese.

“Build quickly then,” Marigold suggested. “And, one more thing!” She pointed a knobby finger at Lily. “Lily does no Casting. None. So don’t ask it of her.” She looked firmly up at Lily to make sure she understood that command as well as everyone else in the room. “My apprentice stays awake to watch over me while I Slumber.” She turned that adamant gaze upon every other face present, and when she was satisfied there was no argument, clapped her hands and said, “Then that’s settled. Give my apprentice and I the rest of the evening to prepare. I will dispel the Barrier at first light.”

“We realize how large of a thing we are asking, make no mistake,” said the head silversmith.

Marigold waved her hand dismissively. “It’s my job. And my home, too. It’ll be done. Just you make sure you use the time it’ll cost me well.” Without waiting for further comment, she turned and headed for the door.

With a last glance at Vetch, Lily followed. She could not tell exactly what was conveyed by his expression before she was out the door to catch up with Marigold. At the top of the stairs at the head of the street, she took the old mage’s arm and this time matched her slow pace navigating down the stone steps.

“Can’t take your eyes off him for even a second, can you?” Marigold creaked beside her. Lily flushed. Before she could decide if it were a rebuke or not, Marigold burst into cackling laughter. “I thought not! He is a handsome lad, no mistake. Though you should tell him to run a comb through his hair once in a while. Or better yet, take Fae’s comb to him!”

Lily near snorted trying not to laugh and encourage her teacher’s teasing. She partially succeeded. She hoped at least it would disguise the color on her cheeks now. “Can we even make it down these stairs without you needling me so? Let’s just get you home,” she tried changing the subject. “There will be a lot of preparation for this, won’t there? And not much time.” It was true; they both needed to prepare. Even if Lily herself would be doing no Barrier-Casting, her share of the work would not be insignificant.

“Mm,” Marigold agreed. Then, “But not home, no. I’m hungry and I don’t feel like waiting for either of us to cook. Let’s go to that new eatery. You know the one, the place with the big fireplace and the murals painted on the walls and the little courtyard out back? There’s a braised chevon dish there I’ve been wanting to try. And a drink or two while we plan things out wouldn’t go amiss.”