image [https://i.imgur.com/deBcyTw.png]

THE MOTHER

Torsten had a ruddy complexion on a good day. After spending all day working, his face should look the way Monte's mother would when his father told a tawdry joke. Yet Monte could see Torsten was as white as a sheet. The blacksmith and the other men didn’t look much better.

"What do you mean they took her?" Monte broke the silence. He had waited some time for Torsten to ask the question but judged he was in some kind of shock. No one else seemed ready to speak up either.

The woman who brought the message looked around at the assembled men inside the smithy. As she landed on each group Monte made note of their reaction. Those who had prayed to the Husband in the fields looked confused and stoic. Monte guessed they, like he, couldn’t make sense of the news.

The blacksmith and his retinue, Monte noted, were glancing around at each other like they were sharing a secret. Each one of them looked ashamed, none more than the blacksmith himself. The woman's gaze finally landed on Torsten, who was staring at the blacksmith now.

"Somebody needs to explain what's going on here. Right now." Monte said.

He hardly knew these people, but he used his best Guard trained tone of authority. In this case it didn't seem to have much an effect.

Torsten's color hadn't returned, but his voice had. He walked close enough to the blacksmith that he could have taken a swing at him. The men around the blacksmith took half a step back.

"You'll pay for this you twat." Torsten spat in the blacksmith's face.

Monte thought he was about make the man pay right then and there. They looked ready to fight. Monte eyed the blacksmith’s tools, still scattered around the forge.

I don't want to kill someone with these again.

Instead, Torsten stormed out of the smithy. The rest of the men went out after him and Monte followed, though he had no idea where they were headed.

He judged it was the wrong time to ask Torsten what was going on. Who had taken Thorna? For what possible reason? Then the thought finally caught up with him.

Where is Dancia?

Before he had time to consider his questions long, he felt a tug at his sleeve. He turned and found the woman who had brought the news behind him.

"You're Monte, aren't you?" She asked in a very small voice. The other men were still a few paces ahead, though they left distance between them and Torsten. Monte watched them keep going for a moment before turning to answer the woman.

"Yes. Please can you tell me what's happening here? Where is Dancia?" He asked. Monte noticed his voice had lost all authority now and betrayed his growing concern.

You must stay calm.

"Dancia is fine. She sent me to find you. She said you would be at the stables. But I learned you had already left. It's taken me some time to find you." She was reciting the events in a peculiar way, almost as though in a trance.

Monte cursed himself for suggesting they repair the pitchforks today. It could have waited. Maybe none of this would have happened if they'd simply returned to the church when they finished.

"Dancia is in her home now, with her family. I will take you there to see her. She will tell you what's happened." The woman said, tugging again at Monte’s sleeve. Then she set off in a different direction from Torsten and the other men.

With her family?

Monte could almost see Torsten in the distance. This woman had just reported that Thorna was captured. Monte realized he needed to be careful around this woman. Something about her was off, and he could once again be in danger.

Monte saw Torsten and the other men heading back towards the center of the Hamlet.

"Where are they going?" Monte asked. The woman hesitated.

"I can't say for sure. I don't know." She replied eventually. Monte suspected she in fact had a good guess, didn’t want to press. If he protested too much it might get him into an even worse situation. She pulled at his sleeve for a third time and turned to leave. This time Monte followed her.

After a quarter of an hour of walking it was clear to Monte they weren't going to Dancia's house. Monte didn't know exactly where it was in relation to the smithy, but he knew it wasn't this far away.

"Where are we going now? I'm pretty sure this isn't the direction of Dancia’s house." Monte said.

Who is this woman anyway?

"Did I say we were going to Dancia's house? I'm sorry. No, she's staying with a friend while this is worked out. We're going there." The woman said.

Monte cursed himself for not staying with the group of men. Did Dancia even have other friends in town? Monte hadn't heard her talk about anyone else. Most of the people who still lived here were her parents' age.

They approached a building Monte hadn’t seen before. The woman walked up to the door and it opened for her before she knocked. She held it open and beckoned Monte to go inside. Every alarm bell in his head was going off. He had no idea who he was following. He didn't know where he was.

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Of the three people in this town he knew, at least one was certainly not inside. He was sure Dancia wasn't inside either. Thorna was missing. Monte felt the panic that had been simmering for the last hour was now close to boiling over.

Stay calm.

Once inside, his fears were confirmed. The building was one large room. Along the walls stood around half a dozen faces he didn't recognize. He guessed they were devotees of the preacher though, based on who sat in the center of the room.

Two chairs were arranged to face one another. In one sat the preacher himself. He was dressed in all dark clothing now, foregoing the white he'd worn for the service. In the other chair, hands bound behind her, was Thorna.

"Monte! I'm so sorry." Thorna spoke. Before she managed to say anything else she was cut off by the preacher.

"Silence.” The preacher said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“As I've already told you. You're to answer my questions, and otherwise be silent. Or do you want the gag again?" His voice dripped with poison. None of the empty boisterousness he'd demonstrated this morning seemed to remain. Monte had to look twice to be sure he was indeed seeing the same person.

"Welcome, Monte." The preacher turned to him and spoke.

"Why don't you have a seat. We have a lot to talk about." The preacher indicated the chair he had just stood up from.

Monte judged he didn’t have a lot of options. Seeing Thorna alive brought him a surprising amount of calm. Monte felt his training kicking in. Instead of mounting dread, the new pieces of information made him feel more in control.

The preacher knew his name, which made enough sense to him. Thorna must have told him. This woman had asked his name to confirm, too. Monte was in a trap, set specifically for him. He had walked right into it.

I can't just fight my way out of this.

He needed to learn why the trap was set for him, what the preacher wanted with him, if he hoped to escape. Monte walked to the chair and sat down as asked. He locked eyes with Thorna. She didn't need to speak to him, her eyes conveyed an apology clearly enough. What was she apologizing for though? Monte couldn't guess.

"Thorna here has told us all about you, Monte. Am I wrong?" The preacher asked.

"You're never wrong." The assembled devotees responded. If the intended effect was to intimidate him, the group response missed the mark.

Never wrong huh?

The preacher was pacing around he and Thorna's chairs now. The eyes of his followers stayed locked on him as he moved around. He meant to be menacing, Monte was sure. But the sight of these people so taken by this man was ridiculous to Monte. Maybe if the preacher hadn't made it clear he was such an obvious blowhard it would have seemed more dire. As it was, Monte had to fight to keep a straight face.

"She told us you've been a tracker for a few years now. You're quite an interesting character Monte." The preacher said. Monte didn't blame Thorna, she was obviously in a bad situation. Luckily, Thorna didn’t know too much about him. Luckily, she hadn’t told the preacher about Monte’s time at the Academy. Monte retained the upper hand. The preacher had no idea how much danger he had let walk through the door.

"Why is she here? Why am I here?" Monte asked. They were the two most pressing questions he had.

"If you speak again without being asked to, I'll gag you, lad." One of the devotees on the periphery stepped forward and growled at Monte. The preacher gave him an approving look but reached his hand out with his palm down. Seeing it, the man stepped back in line.

"Take heed of him, I urge you. But since you had little warning, I will answer your questions." The preacher said.

He walked until he was behind Thorna's chair. With a flair of drama, he put his hands on her shoulders and looked at Monte. Thorna's face was impossibly afraid, and Monte saw a single tear roll down her cheek. He wished he could tell her she was in no danger but thought better of it. Monte had a precious and slight advantage, giving anything away now would be a mistake.

"My god asks much of his most fervent followers. We're called upon to set up flocks in new places. We're called upon to show people the way to prosperity. We're called upon to walk the path. To bring others along behind us. When we're led by our god to a new place, it's our duty to find a home.” The preacher looked around at his followers. Monte noted a few who appeared bored, maybe even displeased.

“We must have a place where people can come freely to hear the truth. When people stand in our way, our god demands we punish them. I've had to punish quite a few people here before Thorna. Am I wrong?" He asked. The devotees responded in the way Monte had gotten used to by now.

"Thorna here has resisted me and my followers at every turn. When I came here to grow my flock, she stood in the way of us taking over the House of the Infirm. She claimed the people here needed it. Never mind that she led the prayer to your old false idols there. We sought merely to consecrate the place in a way befitting a real god. Am I wrong?" The preacher asked the assembled group.

"You're never wrong." The group answered in unison. Monte had been watching one follower’s face. When the rest of the group made their reply, this man kept his mouth shut.

Is the preacher losing his followers?

"We offered a fair price for our new home, and I personally offered this location we sit in now as the new House of the Infirm, and yet still she fought us. Thorna here just didn't want to see my flock in a home of our own.” The preacher took a moment to look down at Thorna with performative disgust, shaking his head her way.

“Then when we took what was ours anyway, she refused to change the prayers of the old ways so my flock could do both. Am I wrong?" He concluded with the same question. The group answered in the same way.

Monte wasn't sure what was true and what wasn't. Just this morning it seemed as though Thorna was the one pushing for people here to be allowed to attend both. It was Torsten who seemed unhappy about the situation.

"What of Torsten? He wasn't too pleased about it either." Monte spoke, and immediately regretted it.

Thorna's eyes went wide for a moment, then she bowed her head. The same devotee moved toward Monte again. And again, the preacher had him stand down.

"Last warning Monte. As for Torsten… He's being dealt with." The preacher hissed. Monte's stomach sank.

The blacksmith had been in on the ruse somehow. Monte assumed the blacksmith must have known Torsten would go into the Hamlet to find his wife. Monte hoped Torsten had managed to keep himself out of trouble.

Monte recalled how furious and distant he had looked when the news came. Was Torsten capable of violence? Was another trap waiting for him in town? Monte feared the worst.

There is nothing I can do for him here.

"But I am a benevolent shepherd, Monte. I am willing to let Thorna here go. I expect she will find the right path after today. Many of those who have forced me to punish them seem to find the light. Am I wrong?" The preacher asked.

"You're never wrong." The devotees recited.

"Monte, I will let this woman go right now. No harm will come to her or her daughter, if you grant me the thing I want." The preacher was looking directly at him. Monte had no idea what he was talking about.

What could you want from me?

"I know who you are, Monte. I have travelled far and wide in this land. There are many followers of my god who I speak with regularly. I know who your family is. I know who your mother is. I know who your father was." The preacher's eyes flashed as he said it. A chill ran down Monte's spine.

"I happen to know you have a fine piece of metalcraft in your possession. I must say I was disappointed to see it not on your person now. My flock have done their best to get it without your involvement, but it seems it has been well hidden. I want it. If you bring it to me, I promise no more harm will come to you or Thorna here. But you must swear to bring it here immediately." The preacher eye's bore into his.

Thorna's head lifted again. She was subtly shaking her head toward Monte. This preacher wanted his father's sword, and he was going to let both him and Thorna free for it. Surely this was one of the dumbest men Monte had ever met. He would certainly bring the sword to this charlatan. It would be the last thing this ridiculous fool would see if Monte had his way.

"Grant me what I want, and she goes free right away. Do you swear it?" The preacher asked.

Monte didn't hesitate.

"I swear."