Trading Close To Light

by C. M. Simpson

  “Do you need it?”

  Marsh thought about that. There really wasn’t any point in taking a bath; she’d be covered in sweat inside a mile.

  “Not really.”

  “See? We can get an early start out the gate. Shadow Captain will be pleased.”

  The shadow captain snorted as he hurried past, and Marsh smirked.

  “It will take more than that to keep him happy.”

  If Master Envermet heard her, he didn’t react, his pace not slowing as he passed into the waystation. Marsh thought about that for another five steps, then remembered something else.

  “I need to say goodbye to the children.”

  They were approaching the gates as she spoke, and she started as Tamlin stepped out of the shelter of the gatehouse.

  “Glad to hear you say that,” he said, turning to his sister. “You owe me a cookie.”

  He held out a hand, and Aisha shot Marsh a dark look as she handed over his prize. Marsh watched them open-mouthed. She glanced at Aisha.

  “You bet that I’d leave without saying goodbye?”

  The child nodded, her blue eyes dark with sadness.

  “Since when have I ever?”

  Aisha sidled closer to Brigitte.

  “Up,” she said, patting the journeyman’s hip.

  “Nuh-uh,” Brigitte told her. “You go say goodbye to Marsh, first. And say sorry, since you were mean.”

  The child sighed as though Brigitte was asking the impossible, but she came over and looked up at Marsh, her expression unreadable. In the end, Marsh broke the silence that stretched between them.

  “I’m sorry, too. I gotta go, kiddo. You be good for Tamlin and Brigitte, okay?”

  “’Kay.”

  They stood there staring at each other until Marsh could think of only one thing that might break the tension.

  “You want another hug?”

  Aisha raised her arms, nodding solemnly, and Marsh lifted her from the ground, hugging her tight. When they drew apart, Marsh looked into the child’s eyes.

  “You think I should hug Tamlin too?”

  Again Aisha gave her a solemn nod, and Marsh raised her eyebrows before replying in a mock whisper, “But he’s a boy. D’you think he’ll mind?”

  “Deeps, no,” Tamlin said, wrapping his arms around her waist. “He doesn’t mind, but he doesn’t want to see his guardian get her tail kicked again, and he hates goodbyes, so can we kinda get this over and done with?”

  Marsh had pulled him to her side, but now she drew back.

  “Wow, boy. You sure know how to make a guardian feel wanted!”

  She watched him blush and waited until he’d started to stutter an apology before she let him off the hook.

  “Kidding, child. Take care of your sister, and do as Brigitte says. Okay?”

  “Sure thing, Marsh,” he said and turned back to the gate. He’d almost reached Brigitte’s side when he added, “We won’t do anything you wouldn’t do.”

  “Hey!”

  Roeglin grabbed her arm before she could go after him. “Little rat’s pulling your chain,” Roeglin told her, “and we need to go.”

  On hearing his words, Brigitte came over and took Aisha out of Marsh’s arms, disentangling the child’s hands when she clung more tightly.

  “See you in Kerrenin’s Ledge,” she said, giving Marsh a brief hug. “Don’t go digging up any more shadow monsters. That last lot was more than enough.”

  “No chance of that.” Master Envermet had returned. “That last battle drew in pretty much everything that was left.”

  He caught Marsh and Roeglin’s looks of disbelief and shrugged.

  “I had the scouts check. Looks like you drew every single creature within howling distance, which means halfway to Kerrenin’s.”

  “So, there is a chance of us running into more of them, then,” Marsh said, thinking his guestimate left a lot of ground uncovered.

  Envermet shrugged.

  “They don’t like being that close to the surface. You might run into another raiding band, but the number of raiders we killed here means it’s unlikely. This was a pretty major outpost, and with the tunnels sealed, they’ll have trouble taking it back.” His lips thinned. “We’re going to make sure of that.”

  “Were there any survivors?” Marsh asked. Judging by the expression on Envermet’s face, it was a question he’d been hoping she wouldn’t ask.

  A sudden shuffle of feet by the waystation’s gates signaled that Brigitte was taking her leave with the children. Marsh had time for one quick wave goodbye, then they were gone. Master Envermet watched them go and caught Roeglin’s eye.

  “This way,” he said, and looked over at where the shadow guards and ex-caravan guards were standing clustered in one spot. “Wait here; this won’t take long.”

  Marsh’s stomach gave an uneasy flip and swallowed against a vague feeling of nausea. She had a feeling the next few moments were going to be—

  Difficult, Roeglin finished for her. They’re going to be difficult, but you’d have had to deal with it sooner or later. It might as well be now.

  And there was something she hadn’t wanted to know.

  “Fine,” she murmured. “Let’s get it done.”

  “Getting it done” was a fair description.

  A large pit had been dug at the back of the waystation, and a small contingent of shadow guards and Protectors were stacking bodies in it.

  “We killed the survivors,” Master Envermet told her.

  Ignoring her look of horrified disbelief, Master Envermet rounded the next corner. As he did, a bolt of darkness shot out of the shadows, followed by a shape in the dark leather armor both raiders and Protectors wore, but without the colored rings adorning the Protectors’ chests.

  If Roeglin had been moving a step faster or Master Envermet slower, one of them would have died. As it was, Master Envermet barely got a hastily-called shadow shield between him and his assailant. Shadows hissed as the raider’s blade slid against the shield, and then the man was past and swinging at Marsh.

  She took a step back, pulling her own blade from the shadows and sweeping a foot across the raider’s ankles. He went to his knees, and Marsh hefted a boot into his gut. He grunted but scrambled to his feet, coming around to face her while stepping clear of the shadow captain.

  “You look too tasty to be running with the likes of these,” he taunted, and Marsh flashed him a grin.

  “You’d be surprised what I had to do to get these scaredy-boys this far up the tunnel.”

  He gave a bark of laughter, and Marsh realized she’d used the wrong words, something he confirmed.

  “Girl like you? I bet I wouldn’t be surprised at anything you did, or just how far any man would go to get it.”

  It was almost enough to make her try to take off his head, but Marsh wanted something else.

  “What are you still doing here?” she asked. “Not ready to run home to Mama?”

  He sneered.

  “Girlie, none of us want to run home to her. If we do, we die, but not before she kills our families, burns our homes, and murders anything else she thinks we have a fondness for. She’s less a mama than a right mother, and for all the wrong reasons.”

  He lunged forward. Marsh parried his blade and decided to try something else.

  “Why not join us and help us make a house call? We could solve all your parental problems.”

  He gave a bitter laugh.

  “You’re a bit slow, sweetie. My wife and kids get to live even if I don’t. If I take you back that’s not guaranteed.”

  He lunged again, and Marsh didn’t hesitate. She parried, stepped, and countered with a strike that gutted him in one fell swoop. As he fell, she brought her blade around and down and took him in the neck. He dropped lifeless at her feet.

  “Damn,” she said and turned to the shadow captain. “Is this tour done?”

  Envermet nodded.

  “We took no prisoners.”

  Roegl
in cleared his throat, and the captain rolled his eyes.

  “Fine. There were wounded, and we killed them. We don’t have the manpower to guard them and hold the waystation, and we can’t afford to let them roam.”

  Marsh looked down at the body of the man at her feet and nudged him with the toe of her boot. The waste of it crashed through her.

  “He was protecting his family,” she said, sadness welling up inside her. “That’s probably all that the rest of them were doing too. How many were there?”

  Master Envermet’s voice was solemn as he replied.

  “We’ve counted two hundred and fifty-three.”

  He looked down at their attacker.

  “Two hundred and fifty-four.”

  The number struck Marsh hard. They’d been husbands, fathers, sons… She looked past the shadow captain to where his men had resumed burying their foes. Dashing away sudden tears, she turned to Envermet.

  “I’m sorry, Captain. This is stupid.”

  To her surprise, he reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder. His face held an indefinable sadness as he looked into her eyes.

  “Marchant Leclerc,” he said, “it is never wrong to mourn the loss of a life or the lost potential for that life to have been used for other, better things—and even the best of men will betray their values to keep their families safe. We can only try to make it so they don’t have to. Yes?”

  He shook her, and Marsh nodded.

  “Good,” he said, straightening. “Now, go make that happen. You too, Master Leger. Try to keep her out of trouble.”

  The last comment came out in tones touched by pain and Marsh rolled her eyes, schooling her expression to obedience and clearing her throat when she caught him looking at her.

  “Yes, Shadow Captain Envermet.”

  He regarded her for a few heartbeats longer and then turned back to his men.

  “Come on,” Roeglin said. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover today.”

  He was right, but his comment left Marsh wondering why it felt like they’d already walked for miles.

  6

  Arrival at Kerrenin’s Ledge

  Marchant felt a sense of relief as the path beneath her feet took on a definite upward tilt.

  “Almost there,” she said, more for her own benefit than for that of those around her.

  Most of them would know the path already, especially Henri and Jakob. The Deeps knew how many times those two had made the journey between Kerrenin’s Ledge and Ruins Hall.

  “Just shift your ass,” Roeglin said. “It’s blocking the road.”

  Marsh caught sight of a cluster of brown noses and shoved him toward them, attempting to snake a boot around his ankles as she did so. He grabbed her wrists, dodged her boot, and spun her around himself and toward the knee-high toadstools, instead. Marsh caught herself in a few short strides and turned back up the trail.

  They’d taken five days, where the mules would have taken only one, but they’d detoured several times to check on farmsteads or prospector camps on the way. Everything had been abandoned, and they’d overnighted in empty bunkhouses or on deserted cottage floors. It had been better than camping cold along a trail where the cavern creatures had returned to make their homes.

  From what Marsh could divine as she scouted, the raiders had kept only a light presence at this level, as though they wished to avoid chance meetings with the folk of the Ledge. Master Envermet had been right—they hadn’t encountered a single group of shadow monsters since leaving the waystation. Mid-Point, indeed!

  She smiled. The climb ahead was going to be tough, but their journey would end in just a few short hours. It was the reason that the climb into Kerrenin’s Ledge had always been the worst and best part of any trip with a merchant caravan. On the one hand, it was Hell on mules and men. On the other, there was hot food, soft beds and warm water at its end. It was no wonder her uncle’s waystation, Hawks-Ledge, did so well

  He had plumbing…and water-pressure—and he kept a good stock of soaps and towels, selling the services for a good price. He also didn’t differentiate between traders, guards or townsfolk. Anyone’s coin was good—or trade, if it was something he needed. It was the same for the dining hall.

  Her uncle…

  Marsh’s heart gave a happy skip blended with apprehension. He hadn’t heard from her since she’d left. All he’d have heard was that the road to Ruins Hall was closed, and that shadow monsters roamed the trail. All he’d have had was the hope that she’d made it through before the trail closed—accompanied by the fear that she hadn’t.

  That was only if he was still safe.

  Up until that moment, the thought that her uncle was anywhere except safely tucked away in his waystation at Kerrenin’s Ledge hadn’t crossed her mind. She hastened her steps and then had to pull back as the effort left her breathless. Roeglin wasn’t impressed.

  Is this a private panic party, or can anyone join in?

  Marsh turned her head.

  “My uncle…” She paused, not sure how to go on. “I don’t even know if he’s still there.”

  He gave her a brief grin.

  “That’s okay, Marsh. We don’t even know if Kerrenin’s Ledge is still there—or who runs it if it is. These are just two of the things we have to find out.”

  His grin had faded almost as fast as it had come.

  “We’ll head to the station, first.” He made a show of sniffing at his underarm and screwed up his face. “This waystation, it does have hot water, right?”

  “Yeah.” Marsh felt some of the tension ease from around her heart. “Hot, running water, and soft beds.”

  “And food?” Henri asked, his voice almost plaintive. “Real food?”

  “And beer,” Marsh tossed over her shoulder, and the guards groaned.

  “Beer.”

  “Cold?”

  “Except where it needs to be warm.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  Their footsteps firmed, even if their pace stayed the same.

  Marsh listened to them following and figured they must be the smallest caravan to have made the journey from Ruins Hall to the Ledge. Deeps! They were the only caravan to have made the journey since raiders had extinguished the glows protecting the paths—and released bands of shadow monsters to roam the road.

  The monsters didn’t roam it anymore.

  Marchant’s smile grew wider.

  There weren’t any left. They’d killed them all—and the teams working behind them had taken out any they’d missed, and then replenished the glows. When she made the return journey, the trail would be the brightest path between the two caverns—and the safest…which meant they brought good news to Kerrenin’s Ledge. They could tell the traders it was safe to go back into the deeps.

  Of course, they’d have been able to tell them that sooner, if they hadn’t lost the mules to the third successive wave of the monsters. And they’d have been a lot faster if they hadn’t needed to take refuge at Mid-Point. With shadow monsters trying to break through the outer gates, and shadow raiders trying to get to them from the inside, they’d been in dire straits.

  Actually, if the shadow raiders hadn’t had to fight the shadow monsters, as well, and, if Master Envermet hadn’t caught up with us, we’d have been shadow chow.

  Roeglin’s voice drifted through her head, and Marsh glanced around.

  Roeglin was right. If Master Envermet hadn’t caught up with them, they would have been monster chow.

  “We were lucky,” she agreed, speaking aloud so the rest of their companions could join in since it was too easy to get lost in a private conversation. She was about to add more when she caught the first whiff of the surface. It was a blend of warm earth and stone, threaded through with the smell of leaves and grass. Behind her, the guards and mages accompanying them drew deep lungfuls of the air.

  “I am never getting tired of that smell,” Henri declared, joy and longing lacing his voice.

  It surprised Marsh. She would never ha
ve picked him as someone who was fond of the surface, given how long he had spent taking caravans beneath. If he missed the surface so much, why…

  That’s a story for another time…Roeglin told her, but she fell for his brother, and now his brother is gone, and his head is in turmoil.

  Well, that explained Henri’s uncertain temper, Marsh thought.

  Indeed.

  They fell into silence, each of them surveying the tunnel around them, noting which shadows moved, and which did not, and working their way closer to the Ledge. They reached it just as the setting sun bathed its cavern in red and gold light. Even the brightening luminescence of the calla shrooms took on the colors of the sunset, shedding their usual shades of purple and lavender, for blood-tinged reds with hints of gold. The brown noses clustered at the base of their trunks took on shades of caramel and burnt copper, and the other shrooms joined in the festival of color.

  The fungi weren’t alone, though. Traceries of leaves draped the walls where vines clung to pockets of soil in the rock, and trees cast long shadows from the edges of the tunnel mouth, which was a two-hour walk from the town proper. Only at the end of the day, was the angle right for the sun to stretch its fingers from tunnel entrance to the cavern walls.

  Marsh looked past the shrooms clustered around the path ahead of them, seeking the rise of the Kerrenin’s Ledge walls. It wasn’t until they rounded another curve in the road, descending into a stream-carved gully and climbing to the top of the rise on the other side, that she caught her first glimpse.

  There was open space past where the trail wove between a small forest of stalagmites. It was almost shocking after the close feeling of the fungi forest, and Marsh slowed her pace. The rich reds and golds of the sunset had dulled to pink, and then faded through a soft purple light to the grey of twilight. Looking around, Marsh felt her spirits lift at the sight of the shadows growing thicker between the calla and rock formations.

  Roeglin came alongside her, and they looked toward the torchlit outline of the gates set in the Kerrenin’s Ledge walls.

  “That’s new,” he said, and Marsh had to agree; there had never been any gates blocking the archway through the town walls, not in all her years of living there.