*

Since dawn, the sun had been fighting to break through the gray clouds hanging low over Lake Pasanhal. Only now, as Vetch led his horse down the gangplank from the ship he and Lily had taken across, did it finally succeed in penetrating the cloud cover with a few ragged rays. The contrast in colors was striking. The weather for most of the short voyage had been dull and drizzly, uniform gray skies over a drab, blue-gray expanse of water. But as he and Lily stepped ashore onto the pier at their destination, golden-hued beams pierced the clouds to fall in great diagonal shafts across lake and lakeside town alike. They made the water sparkle and cast strange islands of light and shadow across the streets and buildings that populated the hills rising up from the shore. This town—Gull, one of the sailors had named it—seemed a foreign place to Vetch. They were still in Kaldura, their own kingdom, but they stood on Hold Draffor’s soil now. It felt as different from gentle Pasanhal as Pasanhal had felt from mountainous Moonfane Forge.

The land here rose up sharply from the lake shore in little bluffs and hillocks composed of dark stone and patchy, buff-colored tufts of grass. The buildings of Gull seemed all to be built from the same dark stone. Most had roofs of thatch, but some few were shingled, closer in style to the houses and shops Vetch was used to seeing back home. Here, though, there was a roughness to their composition, the buildings like craggy old men and women sitting up on the hills, watching over the lake’s billowing waters. If not for the townsfolk going about their mornings, Vetch might have mistaken some of these abodes for old ruins.

“Are you feeling okay? You look pale.”

Lily’s voice was soft at his side, pitched only for his ears. She had stolen up so quietly in his preoccupation with the town. Beside her, Fae gave a shake of her head and tugged on her reins, clearly happy to be off the ship and eager to be away from it. Vetch could sympathize.

“Fine,” he said, making his smile one that he hoped concealed his lie. Foolishly, he went and added to it by saying, “The wind is just so cold here by the water.”

“Mm,” she replied. For a few minutes they stood beside each other, sizing up the strange new town they had found themselves in, while dockworkers filed past them carrying crates to and from waiting ships.

It wasn’t entirely a lie that the cold wind was affecting him, but in truth Vetch was not chilled, but burning with fever, and he was distraught to know he looked poorly enough for Lily to notice.

Ever since his scuffle with the tall stable hand back in Pasanhal town, he had felt increasingly ill. By the time he and Lily had found a ship willing to take their blood-flecked gold in payment for conducting them and their animals across the lake to Draffor, Vetch’s fever was causing his head to pound and his body to ache all over. It made the already unpleasant trip across the lake practically intolerable. On the ship, he had been able to play it off as the motion from the choppy waters making him feel sick. Lily had been too preoccupied keeping Fae calm on the deck to wonder otherwise. But daily, Vetch had changed the bandaging on his sword wounds only to find them increasingly red and inflamed. Looking back, he suspected that during the fight, when he had been thrown into the pile of fouled straw and manure, some had soaked through his shirt and gotten into the open puncture in his chest.

Even now the thought of it made his skin crawl. He had seen the ugliness that could result from infected wounds. In his first year in the garrison, an older soldier had been thrown from his horse and broken his leg, with the bone punching through the skin. That wound had become badly infected and the man had nearly died. It was only by the removal of that leg, up near the hip, that he survived. But he never soldiered again.

Vetch’s wound was not on a limb that could be sawn off to save him. Nor did he have the luxury to put his and Lily’s mission aside again to search hither and thither for a proper healer. With that being the case, he had decided to conceal it from her and press on. He would not again cause some needless delay that might jeopardize her quest to rescue Marigold. It was he and his fellow soldiers who had failed to protect her family during the raid on Moonfane Forge. If helping her find Marigold, the only remaining person Lily had left to call family now, meant he must push himself until these wounds festered and finished him, then so be it. He certainly felt wretched enough to believe it could come to that.

Lily brought him out of his fevered stupor with a gentle touch to his elbow. “We should move,” she said. At the same time, Fae chuffed a warning rumble at a dockworker who’d ventured too near. Vetch took it Lily meant they should move out of the path of the workers rushing about on the docks.

But then Lily hefted herself up into Fae’s saddle and nudged the great panthegrunn into an easy walk up the street, causing Vetch to recall what they had discussed on the ship the night before. They had decided it would be best not to stop in this town, but hurry through it and cover as much ground as they could with the remaining daylight. If this Lady who had stolen Mage Marigold truly was Lady Iris, noblewoman and ruler of Hold Draffor, then it meant they walked amongst her subjects now. Vetch had thought it best not to mention here the attack on Moonfane Forge, nor arouse any suspicion amongst the local populace that he and Lily planned to bring vengeance to Lady Iris’s door.

Already, Lily was well ahead of him, her panthegrunn’s heavy hooves clopping up the cobbled road leading from the docks up through town. Reflexively, Vetch mounted Revenge and stirred him into following. They would bypass the town of Gull, eat from their supplies on the go, and stop to camp only when their animals needed to be rested.

They found themselves on the main thoroughfare leading up through Gull. It was cobbled with the same dark stone that characterized the buildings and the hills that those buildings squatted upon. Vetch kept his eyes forward. Up ahead, Lily cut an easy path for them on Fae. People in the street stared at the panthegrunn, but parted to give her ample space as she passed. Despite his discomfort in the saddle, Vetch had to smile. Lily looked like a queen, sitting tall above the crowd on her magnificent charge-beast. She wore the new clothes she had purchased in Pasanhal, a brown kirtle with split riding skirt embroidered with stitchings and designs in subdued goldenrod. The shirt she wore underneath was not pure white, but a softer cream hue that reminded Vetch of fresh milk. He wondered if Lily had paired the clothing with the color of her hair and tone of her skin on purpose. Certainly, they accentuated one another.

The trip across the lake had done Lily wonders. Unlike Vetch, she had made good use of their idle time on the ship by resting and preparing herself for the days ahead. When she and Vetch were not strategizing, she was putting her supplies in order, caring for Fae, and even practicing small spells. Vetch, on the other hand, felt as if he’d squandered the free days. With no space sufficient for practicing his swordplay, and feeling ill and restless, he had drifted aimlessly around the ship, wandering between the open deck when he needed fresh air, and its stifling but warm hold when he became chilled. Sleep had come only fitfully. Now, finally divested of the ship’s tossing and cramped quarters, he still felt weary and unprepared.

They passed through the denser hub of town that crowded the lakeside and soon were following the road up through the hills. The cobbled way began to wind in long, sweeping switchbacks up between those hills and Vetch saw how much of the town had actually been hidden out of view from the lake. More homes and little farmsteads populated the rolling landscape off the road, fields for crops and pastures for animals sweeping upward. On bluff sides, placid sheep and stalwart cattle grazed.

At length, they reached the plateau of the rising land that had taken them away from the waterside. Here, the cobbles ended and the dirt road leveled out and straightened across a long stretch of buff land. They began to see less dwellings and less people along the path. It was here that Lily put their day’s plan into motion. Vetch watched as she gave Fae’s flanks a gentle tap with her heels and said, “Go, girl.”

Fae’s great cat-like musculature rippled beneath her pale pelt as she launched into a full gallop, her hooves pounding up the road. Lily let out a whoop as she and Fae raced ahead. Now that they were away from town, they could give their mounts their heads and churn up as much ground as possible. Vetch coaxed Revenge to a gallop and felt how the horse not only responded to his command, but also seemed to relish the opportunity to test himself against his new charge-beast companion.

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Upon their animals, Vetch and Lily tore across the landscape, with Lily and Fae taking the lead and demonstrating the panthegrunn’s near-magical endurance. Vetch’s Revenge was no slouch. His horse ran hard and showed himself to be up to the task of keeping pace.

Miles passed by while the shrouded sun rode the sky behind the clouds. Every so often they slowed their animals to a walk and allowed them to rest while Lily and Vetch ate in the saddle. Then they would run again. Vetch watched the land they passed—the eastern vestiges of the forest on their left, stony-soiled farm lands off to their right. It provided scant distraction from his pain and fever, but thanks to Fae and Revenge seeking to outdo one another, they made it a fair distance that first day.

Vetch was glad to be quickly closing in on their destination, as he was also glad to finally stop for the night, once it became too dark to press on. He ached all over and his sword wound felt hot and tight. Dismounting and setting up camp was a tiring affair. They had not come across The Lady’s carriages on the road that day, which meant they would sleep light, wake early, and run again the next in hope of catching up.

The second day of hard riding passed in a blur of fever pains and a pounding headache for Vetch. The closer they came to Hold Draffor’s seat of power, Black Crux, the more the land took on the characteristics he had heard about. They passed rolling wheat fields and innumerous little farms and villages. They stopped at none of them. With every mile, and with no sighting of the carriages they pursued, Vetch became increasingly discouraged. For her part, Lily showed no sign that it affected her. She rode stoically, crouched forward in the saddle with her face framed by Fae’s sweeping horns, while the panthegrunn forged their path ahead with powerful strides.

How much time transpired, Vetch could not say. Only when the looming black hill fortress that was Black Crux Manor itself finally rose into view in the distance did he and Lily halt their mounts. In silence, they sat on their animals in the road and stared. The implication weighed heavily on them. They had failed to catch up with Marigold’s abductors before they reached their stronghold. How, by all spirits and demons, would they ever manage to spirit the old mage out of such a place, the castle of a noblewoman, who was a powerful mage herself, and surrounded by her guards and the city she lorded over?

Vetch could think of nothing to say. When it seemed Lily might speak, she instead remained silent, only leaning forward to scratch her panting charge-beast behind her ears. Vetch ran his sleeve across his sweating brow. The clouds had blown through in the night and the sun had beaten down on them all day. His shirt was soaked through with sweat. He felt Lily’s eyes on him as he dismounted and trotted Revenge in a circle to cool him down and realized she was waiting for him to say something. As a soldier, he must have some idea about what to do now, right? But he didn’t. He’d known old soldiers in the garrison who had been in battles, who had gone on long campaigns and laid siege to castles. He never had. This situation was foreign to him.

He paused in walking Revenge and went into a saddlebag for a bit of fodder to give him. The only thing he could think of to offer Lily was, “We’ll make our way into the town and see what we might, trying not to draw too much attention if we can help it. I suppose the first thing we can start with is finding out if this Lady Iris has moved on to somewhere else with Marigold or if they truly are up in that castle. Until we know one way of the other ...” He finished with a lame shrug. He felt so stupid, so useless. Captain Tarese would have mocked him for such a pathetic plan. But Lily nodded gravely, causing him to feel guilty for the trust she placed in him. What did she see in him? Confidence? Determination? He felt neither.

“Okay,” was all she said.

They went on, walking now. They passed increasingly large farms and settlements that gradually formed into the outskirts of Black Crux town proper. Above it all reigned the black-stoned castle surrounded by wheat fields. The roads became more trafficked, dirt became cobblestone, and the noise and bustle of a sizeable habitation closed in around them. It was impossible for them not to draw attention to themselves. People stared at Fae. The first order of business became getting their animals somewhere out of sight and finding an inn where they could refresh themselves and discuss their next step.

Activity in Black Crux followed the pattern of any thriving city. Townspeople walked the black-cobbled streets, shop owners implored passerby to view their wares, and the smell of roasting meats and freshly baked breads implored people to stop at the various stands and eateries. It was a city familiar in its unfamiliarity. Most of the buildings were fashioned from the same local stone. Dwellings, warehouses, and shops alike were all cast in black stone, with pointed shingle roofs, like poor miniatures of the great castle hanging over them all. The broad streets spread out from either side of the low river gully that split the town, with bridges spanning the long furrow at regular intervals.

As they led their animals along a wide thoroughfare, Vetch kept his eyes peeled, surveying his surroundings like a scout sent into an enemy’s hive. He saw no regular guardsmen about town; no one in uniform. While he did spot some various people who wore weapons at their sides, it was impossible to tell if any had been amongst the attackers who had fallen on Moonfane Forge. Mostly, he saw common folk—farmers, laborers, craftspeople. There was no indication that anything was amiss in town, aside from a general sullenness about the passerby.

As with Pasanhal, it was clear word had not reached this place about Moonfane Forge’s fall. How would these people take that news, when weighed against the movement of their Lady and her army? Would they see the connection? Or had she covered her tracks as effectively in her home realm as she had elsewhere? People could not see a large army moving if it only gathered in smaller pockets directly before the attack ... and then scattered in many different directions afterward, exactly as it had done. How few or many marauders had ended up back here? And where were they now?

“There,” said Lily, prompting Vetch not only to look to her, but to wonder if she responded to his thoughts without him needing to voice them. She was peering straight ahead, over the rooftops, at the castle. “Can we get closer to it?” she wondered aloud. “I can already feel magic from it.”

“First, let’s find lodgings,” he offered. “Then we’ll go there.”

The inn they found was a modest one on the northern side of town. Neither rough nor ostentatious, it looked like any other inn you’d find the kingdom over, but for one key feature that drew Vetch to it the moment they spotted it during their wanderings. The common room was fronted by a large veranda where there were tables and benches set for people to eat and drink and mingle outdoors, and the tables were crowded already at midday.

“Ennric taught me this my first month in the garrison,” he explained, as he and Lily went down a side street to find the inn’s back courtyard. “If you want to learn the temperature of a place, take your meal at the tavern most popular with people from a broad assortment of trades. That’s where gossip is most freely thrown about. This looks like the one for Black Crux. It may well serve us as a source of information.” He peered around the corner of the courtyard. “Damn. They don’t have stables.”

Lily placed a calming hand on Fae’s shoulder. The panthegrunn was growing restless, even to Vetch’s eye. She was not used to being in town amongst so many people.

“Should we try elsewhere?” Lily hedged. “If gossip flows freely here, as you suspect, then we’d surely be included in it. You and I are gonna stick out like goats in a flock of sheep.” She shifted her tone then, asking, “Are you certain you are hale? You’re soaked with sweat.” She brushed her hand over his forehead, eyes full of concern.

He shook his head and put on a smile he didn’t feel. He wanted to avoid talking about how he felt now, so he focused on her first concern. “The Lady and her sellswords think us both dead, remember? We’re just two travelers from Pasanhal. The only one who might be a problem ...”

“Fae,” Lily agreed. “We need to get her out of sight.”

“I’ll go inside and ask.”

“I’ll go in and ask.” Lily thrust Fae’s reins into his hand. “As Marigold would put it, you look like twice-trampled yak shit. Stay here.”

Vetch didn’t argue. He didn’t think he looked quite that bad. But he felt much worse. He sipped some water and waited anxiously.

When Lily returned, she confirmed that the inn had no stables of its own, but that there was a storage barn a couple streets over whose owner sometimes rented to travelers looking to house their animals. She had secured them a room and the innkeeper had even sent his boy to run to the barn’s owner. They could take Fae and Revenge there now, and a meal and bathwater would be awaiting them when they returned.

“They hopped at the sight of the gold,” Lily explained. “The innkeeper’s exact words were ‘I haven’t seen gold pieces like that hereabouts in a while.’ Then he asked me if I was a dignitary here to petition Lady Iris.”

At this, Vetch quirked his brow, asking, “And what’d you tell him?”

Lily shook her head. “I couldn’t think of an answer to that, so I just repeated our request for a room.”

“That’s probably for the best. Let him think what he wants.” After a moment’s thought, he added, “Petition Lady Iris for what?”

Again, Lily shook her head. “I don’t know.”

Vetch considered what that could mean, but his fever made it hard to think. Perhaps it meant nothing. Nobles hosted important visitors all the time, did they not? He clenched his eyes shut for a moment. The strain of his pounding head was threatening to overwhelm him.

“—get these two sorted, then come back here.” Lily’s voice was a welcome chime cutting through the fevered cacophony of his thoughts.

“Yes,” he agreed, without fully comprehending, and followed her back to the street.