The Maiden of Moonfane Forge

“My horse has got the shits,” Renzo complained from the back of the train of soldiers.

“I told you to stake him more carefully at night,” Mora called back. “Probably been nibbling on something he ain’t supposed to is all. They need to be kept out of reach of bad plants.”

“My horse, as well,” Oderyk put in.

“I staked him as I always do,” Renzo grated. “What do you want me to do, build them a corral each night? There’s plants everywhere. The horses are gonna get at them.”

“Look, I’m not a stable master, I’m a swordswoman,” Mora said, more forcefully than was typical for her. “I can’t care for all the horses by myself. If you want to slack with your animal, that’s your business. Don’t whine to me when you suffer the consequences.”

“Peace, Mora,” Vetch said. “Enough for now, from both of you.” He didn’t disagree with Mora, but best to put a halt to this squabbling before Renzo inevitably escalated things. The soldiers quieted. Vetch let it stand that way for a time. The path they followed had only become yet more narrow and overgrown throughout the day, making the going slow and tense. It was only the trampled undergrowth and torn brush to either side of the trail—evidence of a carriage, or carriages, passing—that told them they were still on the right track. But the difficulty of navigating the confining forest, and the newly realized threat of their quarry having anticipated their pursuit, had everyone on edge. They were starting to get on each other’s nerves and that was the last thing Vetch needed. He felt no less anxious about the situation himself, but it wouldn’t do for a captain to show that, so he’d pushed them on throughout the day, speaking little except to issue orders when needed.

The waning of conversation, however, meant that his mind was free to wander of its own accord. When it did, it invariably returned to the subject of Lily. The hollow pain that’d been gnawing his stomach took another bite. He’d never look at anyone again the same way as he had her, never feel about anyone again as he’d felt about her. They’d never even gotten a chance. It wasn’t fair, her being gone. She’d deserved so much better. So did he. She’d deserved a life, and they’d deserved one together. Then the prickling thought came to Vetch’s mind: did he? Did he, really?

Tears began to threaten. Vetch clenched his teeth and gripped his horse’s reins so tightly his palms ached. Not in front of everyone. They had a job to do and there was too much danger ahead of them to let this paralyze him right now. Vetch glanced over at Oderyk. The man had lost his wife in the attack. How did he go on?

“You need to feed ‘em more often, idiot.”

At first, Vetch didn’t know who had spoken. Then, Mora brought her horse up alongside Slouk’s and spoke with a challenge in her voice.

“What’d you say, thief? Call me that again.”

“I said ... never mind,” Slouk mumbled. These were the first words Vetch had heard from the horse thief all day. From morning until late afternoon, he’d duly ridden along, hunched over his reins, head down and sweaty hair hanging over his face. To Vetch, the man looked ill.

“No, why don’t you say that again,” Mora persisted. It was unlike her to get worked up over a petty insult. More evidence of how this undertaking was wearing on them all.

“C’mon, thief, let’s hear it!” This from Renzo, goading them both on, fanning the flames.

Before Vetch could jump in, Slouk raised his head and turned in his saddle to address both Mora and Renzo. “I said ‘feed ‘em more’, stupid! If you don’t want ‘em nibbling on things, make sure they’re not hungry. You should’ve been shaking out portions of feed more often.”

“Says you,” countered Mora, though she sounded uncertain.

“Says someone who grew up amongst horses,” Slouk said. The more he spoke, the more confidence he seemed to gain, as if touching on a subject near to him gave him the courage to stand up to the soldiers he had cringed away from for the majority of their trek. “Look at my mount. Mine’s not the one dragging his hooves. Should be stopping to feed them more often.”

“That would only slow us down,” declared Vetch, seeking to put an end to this conversation. “And run more quickly through our limited feed.”

Slouk wouldn’t let it go. “Who’s slowing us down? Not me. It’s that dimwit not knowing what he’s doing,” he spat, jerking his thumb toward Renzo.

“Shut your mouth, you little shit!” Renzo shouted. “Better yet, I’ll shut it for you!” Before anyone could stop him, the burly soldier drove his horse up alongside Slouk’s and shoved him roughly out of his saddle. Slouk hit the ground hard with a pained grunt, his horse taking off into the brush. Rolande and Iannitz both went after it. In the chaos of horses startling and soldiers shouting, Renzo dismounted. He advanced on Slouk and, without pretense, began pummeling the man about his face and shoulders with heavy fists. Slouk did his best to cover up and curl into a ball, his demeanor shifting instantly back to the fearful and tyrannized man he’d been in his jail cell. He squealed under the assault, half-sobbing out his pleas for help.

Both Vetch and Oderyk were off their horses at the same time. Oderyk’s hand closed around Renzo’s shirt collar and yanked him back, while at the same time Vetch shoved him off of Slouk. He kept his hand on Renzo’s chest as Renzo defiantly sought to break free.

“Stop!” Vetch shouted in his face. “That’s a fucking order! You stand down right now, Renzo, or by all the spirits and demons—”

“What?” Renzo shouted back, his eyes wild and locked still on the cowering Slouk. “Or what, Captain? Let’s kill this piece of shit and be done with it. Or have you forgotten it was him that led the raiders straight to our mage’s doorstep? Why protect him? Wasn’t it you and Ennric who let the little pisser into town in the first place? If it were me, I’d have remedied that mistake with my blade after he escaped from his cell. Ennric made you soft like he is, made you forget what it is us soldiers do.”

Vetch had heard enough. Without a word, he drew back his arm and then crashed his fist solidly into Renzo’s jaw. Renzo dropped on his backside in the dirt. The other soldiers stood watching this with aplomb. Vetch shook his fingers out, clenched and opened them a couple times to satisfy himself he’d broken no bones. In his six years in the garrison, he’d seen Captain Tarese have to resort to outright knocking a soldier off their feet with a punch only a handful of times. It sometimes just had to happen. But a good captain could make sure those times were few and far between. With distaste, Vetch wondered if he’d be making a habit of it.

“You make sure you don’t forget why we’re out here,” he said, standing above Renzo, “and what it is that we all are heading into. Slouk’s here to help us identify the people who took Marigold. When we find those people, we need to all be on the same page to have a chance against them.” Vetch made eye contact with all the others standing around, before settling his hard gaze once more on Renzo. Renzo merely looked up at him from the ground, a half-smile on his bloodied lips. Vetch turned on his heel and stalked back to his horse just as Rolande and Iannitz returned leading Slouk’s animal. “Mount up!” Vetch ordered.

Wordlessly, they all obeyed, Renzo and Slouk included. As they got moving again, Vetch placed himself in the middle of the train. Neschi once more took the lead in order to scout their path. Iannitz and Rolande trailed her. Behind Vetch came Oderyk and Mora and, finally, Renzo, silent but holding his head high in defiance. Slouk brought his horse in close to Vetch’s.

“Thank you,” he said meekly. His forehead and cheek were already beginning to swell.

Vetch looked at him until Slouk was forced to turn his eyes down. “Go ride up front. By Iannitz,” Vetch said. Slouk flicked his eyes up once more, opened his mouth, then thought better of it and closed it. He nodded and clicked his tongue to his horse, riding up to take his place beside the young soldier. With any luck, he’d stay quiet now. But if he did return to his bellyaching, Iannitz at least would tolerate it with the least complaint.

It was becoming like one of those puzzles, Vetch thought, the ones in which a farmer must take a wolf, a goat, and a cabbage across a river in a boat that could hold only the farmer and one animal, or the cabbage, at a time, all the while trying to keep the wolf from eating the goat, or the goat from eating the cabbage. That was how he felt now, ordering his soldiers and the horse thief so they wouldn’t come to blows with each other. When Vetch had been a child, a friend of his father’s had once challenged him with that puzzle. Vetch had thought about it and then asked why the farmer was trying to keep a wolf in the first place. Wasn’t the solution simply to set it free?

“I don’t understand why the thief returned.” Oderyk spoke softly, so only Vetch could hear him. The veteran had brought his horse up alongside Vetch’s while his mind wandered.

“Nor I,” replied Vetch.

“I don’t trust him.”

“Nor I, Oderyk. But what can he do?”

Oderyk met Vetch’s eyes with his. “That is the question, isn’t it?”

As evening fell, they found a place to make camp near a little stream. There was less friendly chatter than there had been the night before. The soldiers sat near each other around the fire, yet they appeared isolated from one another in their demeanor. Vetch had considered Slouk’s advice and decided it would not hurt to portion the horses’s feed out in more frequent feedings throughout the night if it meant keeping them healthy for the journey. It would serve as a convenient way of punishing Renzo for his insubordination. Vetch had assigned him the first watch of the night, and in addition to that, he’d have to get up at intervals throughout the remainder of the night and see to all the horses. Some of the animals were clearly fatigued. Perhaps they were animals that had never been ridden this far and long before, or Mora was right and they’d browsed something that’d given them ‘the shits’, as soldiers liked to put it. Whatever the case, Vetch hoped the change would have them in better form tomorrow.

Vetch finished his dinner and stood up from the campfire, walking over to the little stream to scrub out his bowl. When he was finished with that, he sat down beside it, took his boots and socks off, and plunged his bare feet into the cold water. He’d take advantage and have himself a bath here in the morning before they set out again, he decided, cold be damned. As he felt the current across his skin, he watched the other soldiers in the light of the campfire. Most simply stared into the flames. Rolande discussed something in quiet tones with Oderyk. Iannitz gamely listened to Slouk’s susurrous chatter, the horse thief no doubt complaining about Renzo to the one soldier who would listen to him.

Neschi walked over and sat down beside Vetch. “Good idea,” she said, tugging off her boots and dipping her feet into the water beside his. “Ahh, that’s better.” She leaned back on her hands and regarded Vetch. “Think this is gonna be a problem? With Renzo, I mean.”

Vetch turned to her. He was glad to see that the bruises she’d sustained in the battle were beginning to fade. Noting her injuries only made him more aware of his own, and reminded him that the stitches in his cheek itched. With an effort, he refrained from scratching at them. “I don’t think so,” he replied, after some consideration. “I’ll see to it it’s not.”

Neschi nodded, kicked her feet a little in the water. Her toes were wavery white against the dark stream bed. “How d’you think Ennric’s getting on?”

“Hopefully better than we are,” Vetch answered.

“We’re not doing so bad,” Neschi said and nudged his arm. She picked up a pebble and flicked it into the stream. It disappeared into the night-black water without a splash.

“I’ve already had to knock the head of one of my soldiers. That’s not great.”

Neschi scoffed. “Oh, you don’t think Ennric has already pummeled a few townsmen? Or a couple o’ the town guards who went along?”

Vetch found himself smiling at the idea. He knew well how little patience Ennric had for Moonfane Forge’s town guards. They did their job, sure, but never with the kind of discipline the old man preferred to see, not with the discipline of soldiers. “I’m sure he’s thought about it a time or two by now,” Vetch conceded. “But he won’t have. Not with that busted arm. Old man’s gonna have to learn to talk his way through problems until that heals up.”

Neschi slapped her knee and laughed. “Ha! That’ll be the day. Would be nice if he were here, though. I don’t mean that to sound as if I think you’re not leading us well,” she added quickly.

Vetch shook his head. “I knew what you meant. And I agree. I’d prefer to have the old man here, too. But out of all of us, he was the best man for going to the capital.”

Neschi nodded thoughtfully. Abruptly, she said, “Anyway, I think Renzo’ll be fine once he has someone to stick his sword into.” She lifted her feet out of the water and stood. “We all will. We’ll get those bastards, Vetch, I know it.” Grabbing up her boots, she saluted Vetch and went off to her blankets.

Vetch picked up his boots and stood to follow her lead. He wanted them to be ready to move again at first light, so he knew he must set an example and not linger awake when sleep could be snatched. As he moved through the little camp, he reflected on the day. Despite the earlier scuffle, it had borne fruit. The broken carriage had provided them with a possible lead on the identity of whomever they were chasing, and also bolstered their confidence that the raiders were having a hard go of getting their entourage through the woods. If Vetch could keep his people focused, they would catch up to this Lady and her guard. And then ... then, the remaining soldiers of Moonfane Forge would pay them all back triple for what they had done to their town and garrison.

He reached his own bedding, dropped his boots nearby, and lay down. Overhead, shards of the moon could just be seen through thick black foliage. Vetch stared up at those dark leaves and thought of the wood patterns in the ceiling beams above his bunk back in the Moonfane Forge barracks. There, it had been the same view, every night, every morning. But out here he was faced with a new perspective each day. Whatever the view, whatever the challenge, good or ill, it was up to him to deal with it, and see his soldiers through it with him.

Vetch turned onto his side and huddled deeper into his blanket. Everyone else was burrowing into theirs as well. Everyone except for Renzo, who had first watch. Vetch watched through lidded eyes as Renzo sat by the fire jabbing away at the coals with a stick. Neschi was right, they needed to meet these raiders again, blade-to-blade, sooner rather than later, for all their sakes. While their mission was to rescue Marigold, a big part of it also was their needing to finish the fight the raiders had started. They were soldiers; it was part of their makeup. It was just as Ennric had said: all those here had survived the battle, so as long as any of them still drew breath, they had not yet lost. Vetch was certain that the raid’s perpetrators must think otherwise. To them, it must seem as if victory had already been claimed days ago. Well, the soldiers of Moonfane Forge still had something to say about that. None of them would be able to get on with their lives until they had met their adversaries and finished the fight. He knew he wouldn’t, win or fall.