by F J Blair
Temperance urged her horse forward, the crowd parting with a few grumbles. “Not yet. I don’t plan on buying tickets for both us and these horses. They can fetch just as high a price here as they will in the city.”
Past the train station lay the town proper. Sitting at the far end of an open square for all to see, the mayor’s office was immense. With pillars carved from Silversky marble of the purest white supporting its roof, every brick and piece of plaster was designed to immediately draw the eye. Clearly the leadership of Sweetwater wanted to show the full extent of prosperity that recent years had provided.
However, the building still paled in comparison to the one across the street. Weathered gray stones on that one bore a plain Built of weathered gray stones and bearing a plain sign, understated letters proclaimed this building a branch bank of the Calien family. If Temperance had to guess, the office likely held more wealth than the rest of the buildings on this street combined. The Calien name by itself was a more powerful show of affluence than any beautiful decoration could ever hope to achieve.
Next to the mayor’s office was a smaller, rougher looking building. Temperance made straight for this one, the crowds around them thinning noticeably as they got closer.
While she hitched the horses to a nearby post, William studied the building’s marquee. “Sher . . . iff?” He glanced back. “Is this a name for a buyer of horses?”
“Nope, but it is a name for the man who will string you up for stealing them.”
William frowned at her as they climbed the front steps. She continued, “I’d wager my guns that the Gunpowder Gang didn’t exactly acquire those horses in a legal manner. If that’s the case, the sheriff will claim them, and we’ll get a little bounty for our trouble. If not, we can sell them as we like.”
“I suppose that makes sense. Have you had this problem before?”
“What, stolen horses? No, I’m—usually—a one-horse gal, but I’ve had enough other run-ins with the law that I’d just as soon not take any chances. Besides, we needed to stop in and report the last known whereabouts of the Gunpowder Gang. Doubt any of them will still be there by this time tomorrow, but who knows, Sheriff and his posse might get lucky.”
Inside, the building was quiet. Several people were busy behind desks, shuffling paperwork or writing notes. A man near the back was comforting a crying woman dressed in a yellow bonnet and sundress, her face buried in her hands.
Temperance approached the first person she saw that appeared unoccupied, an immense woman leaning back in a chair reading through a red leather-bound book. Muscles strained against the fabric of her uniform every time she twisted about, and a white line trailed along the skin of her neck, disappearing down the back of her shirt.
The woman glanced up at their approach, setting aside her book. “Morning to the both of you. There some sort of problem?”
“No, ma’am, least not yet, anyway. We’ve got a couple of horses that may be stolen property. Is there anyone we can talk to about that?”
The woman behind the desk frowned and started to climb to her feet. “Is that right? Suppose I would be the one to talk to about that, then. Name’s Isabella Wolf, duly appointed sheriff of Sweetwater, though most folks around here just call me Bella for short.”
This is the sheriff? Temperance swallowed nervously as her eyes climbed upward. The woman had to be close to seven feet and looked like she could take on Whittaker’s entire gang by herself without even breaking a sweat. Maybe wrestle a bear, too, just for fun. Certainly not someone Temperance ever wanted to find herself on the wrong side of, that was for true.
She glanced over at William and saw the boy was staring rather goggle eyed at the sheriff. Before he drew too much attention to himself, she gave him a sharp kick, then held out her hand. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Temperance, and this fellow here is William. We had a run in with a group out by the marshes, called themselves the Gunpowder Gang. Managed to get away with two of their animals, but I’m thinking you might want to look them over.”
The sheriff gave the offered hand a solid shake. “Charmed. Temperance, was it? Afraid I don’t know much about horses myself, never had much patience for the beasts. I can send you over to Norman Sharp, he knows all the branding marks of the southern territories. Get his approval and you won’t have any trouble from me or my men. Sound square?”
“Square as a home-cooked meal.”
“Good. Now that we’ve settled that matter, why don’t you tell me more about your encounter with the Gunpowder Gang. You say they were out in the salt marshes? Any chance you could point out the location on a map?”
About thirty minutes later they exited the sheriff’s office, Temperance bearing a writ to present to Mister Sharp. The sheriff’s directions led them back the way they had come, almost to where the town began to climb up into the hills.
Norman Sharp turned out to be a farrier located between a general goods store and a clothing shop that catered to the rough-and-tumble crowd. At the moment he was involved in a heated argument with a farmer, so Temperance left the horses and dragged William down the road until they were out of earshot.
They stopped in front of the clothing shop, a few hats on display in the window. Temperance glanced at them, then at the boy shuffling his feet idly next to her. “How about going in here while we wait? Maybe we can find a few things that fit you. My treat, of course.”
“Me? Is there something wrong with what I have already?”
“You mean besides the fact that it’s all mismatched to Hell and is two torn threads away from the rag pile? Isn’t that reason enough?”
“I do not mind the appearance. These are still quite comfortable.”
“They’re ripe, is what they are.” Temperance wrinkled her nose. “Do you even own any other clothes? You’ve got a thousand magickal gizmos in that bag of yours, and you’re telling me you didn’t even bring a change of pants?”
“I had to leave Isterial quickly, and it is difficult for me to find clothing that—Hey! What are you doing?” William attempted to pull away as Temperance clamped down on his hand, but her grip held firm. Dragging the struggling boy behind her, she opened the shop door.
Inside, a slight woman wearing a white cotton dress covered in prints of tiny blue seashells nodded from behind a counter. “Welcome both of you. Anything in particular I can help you find?”
“We need a pair of fresh outfits for this one.” Temperance jerked a finger at William as the boy tried to hide behind her. “Nothing fancy, and should be able to be patched and sewn without too much difficulty. We seem to run into more than the normal amount of trouble on the trail.”
“Tough and easy to repair, exactly what we specialize in here. If you’ll just follow me.” The woman disappeared between several racks.
“Temperance, are you certain about this?” William glanced about nervously. “Perhaps once I am more settled in Messanai—”
“What are you complaining about? I told you I’d pay for it all, so just say thank you and go with the lady already. I’ll be right here when you’re finished.”
William glanced at her again. He must have seen from her expression that he would get no quarter on the matter, and his shoulders slumped forward as he trudged through the racks after the merchant.
Temperance spent several minutes studying the hats from this side of the display. They were of a style a bit removed from what she was used to seeing up in Arkton, with smaller brims and more ornamentation than you typically saw in the north. Either fashion in Messanai was beginning to diverge from the rest of the country, or she had fallen further behind the trends than usual.
A mannequin next to the window display caught her eye. On it hung a black canvas jacket, split in the back for riding, long tails reaching almost to the floor. It had a series of pouches sewn along the outside, and a collar that could be turned up to keep out the wind and rain.
She ran a hand over the fabric, surprised to find it soft beneath her touch. A jacket l
ike this would be perfect for any number of situations. Wouldn’t look none too terrible on her either.
Before she even realized she had done it, Temperance slipped out of her grandfather’s jacket and pulled on the canvas one from the rack. It sat heavier on her shoulders than she was used to, but the sleeves were cut to just the right length, bending at the elbows without restriction. She buttoned it up, pleased to discover that it wasn’t too billowy in the chest either, a problem that usually made clothes shopping a nightmare for her, and why she sewed most of her own.
“Find something you like, Miss?” Temperance jumped, and turned to find the proprietor watching with a polite smile, William next to her holding an awkward bundle of clothes. The woman nodded at her. “You have good taste, that there is one of the finest garments I’ve had the honor of selling in my shop.”
Feeling her face heat up, Temperance slipped the jacket back off and returned it to the mannequin. “It is rather nice, but I have a jacket already.”
“Yes, I noticed. If you don’t mind my saying so, that coat of yours is in almost as bad of shape as your friend here. I’d be happy to take it in exchange. Several of the leather pieces appear salvageable, and I can always—”
“Sorry, but this one has sentimental value. I’m not ready to part with it just yet.”
The merchant shrugged. “Suit yourself, but you know where to find me if you change your mind.”
Temperance paid for the clothing William had selected, noting with no small amount of amusement that he had refused to try any of the pieces on at the store. The woman made it clear that if anything wasn’t the right size, she would be happy to make an exchange, although a small restocking fee would apply. She looked pointedly at William as she said this, but the boy had eyes only for the floor.
Outside, the sounds of arguing from the farrier had been replaced by the steady ringing of a hammer. They found Mister Sharp putting the last shoe on a beautiful gray-white gelding. He glanced up at them, then went back to his work. “What’cha need? We’re running a special on penny-iron shoes right now. Buy four, and the fifth one’s free!”
What am I supposed to do with an extra horseshoe? Temperance wondered. Out loud, she said. “We were actually hoping you could look at some horses for us. Sheriff Wolf pointed us your way.”
She held out the writ, but Norman didn’t so much as glance in its direction. “You mean those two sitting out front?”
“Yessir, that would be them.”
“Huh. Can already tell you, those are some of Simon Decker’s brood. I recognize the coloring. He was quite proud of the work that went into getting that.”
“By any chance you know if he sold any of them recently?”
“Only at the point of a gun.” Norman Sharp finished his work on the horse and turned to regard them. “Simon was real attached to his projects. Hit him hard when half the stable went missing overnight.”
Temperance winced. So much for making anything off the animals. By the sound of it, this Mister Decker wouldn’t be offering much of a reward, either, if he had lost so many all at once like that. She started to ask anyway, just in case they might get lucky. Before she got the chance, William spoke up.
“Excuse me, but you said he ‘was’ attached to these horses. Is that no longer the case?”
Norman grunted. “Afraid so. He sold off everything he had and headed north about six months ago. Something about a cousin out in New Finderhav that needed help, or some such. I don’t recall all the details.”
“So we’re clear to sell these?” Temperance felt a little giddy after the sudden turnaround in fortune. Not that it would be the end of them if they couldn’t, but every bit of spare kos would help once they got to Messanai.
“I suppose you are, assuming you claimed them in the proper manner according to Federation Salvage law. Why, you looking to sell them right now? If you give me a week, I can probably get you a fair asking price for them, or if you’re in a hurry I can give you a lesser deal to get them off your hands.”
“Quicker would be better. We want to be on a train to Messanai before the day is out.”
Norman paused, then let out a hearty laugh. “Afraid you’re plumb outta luck in that regard. There won’t be another train heading eastbound until tomorrow evening at the earliest.”
Temperance and William shared a look. It was easy enough to read the boy’s thoughts, as they almost certainly echoed her own: how likely was it that any of their troubles would catch up to them between now and tomorrow night? She turned back to Mister Sharp. “Are you certain about that?”
“Certain as anyone can be. Most of the trains that come through here are timber loggers, so a fellow gets to know the few routes that aren’t. But feel free to stop by the station if you don’t believe me. Now, about those horses, you still interested in selling them quick, or would you rather wait?”
“Depends what you’re offering.”
“Hmm.” The farrier tapped his chin. “Given what I know about the quality of Simon’s stock, I suppose I could give you . . . fifty kos, maybe?”
The haggling went on for some time, but in the end Temperance walked out with a bag of silver coins and a satisfied feeling to the whole affair. It didn’t completely wash away her frustration about the delay, but they’d manage. Somehow.
She emptied half the silver into her own purse, then handed the bag to William. “Here you go, that should make settling down in Messanai a bit easier.”
“Really?” William eyed the bag, as if afraid it might disappear on him.
“Of course I am. You earned it, risking yourself the way you did cutting the horses loose during that shootout.”
“Alright. Thank you.” Coins disappeared into pockets. Temperance turned to regard the street.
“Next order of business is finding a place to bed down for the night. I seem to recall seeing a few hotels on the way into town. With luck, one of them serves food, too, because I really need something in my belly that isn’t jerky or hardtack right now.”
They walked through town, saddlebags strung over their shoulders like strings of fresh-caught game birds. Temperance occasionally glanced at William, who was still working to give his neck a strain as he twisted about, looking from one sight or sound to the next. The streets had grown busier as the afternoon wore on, men leaving work and making their way home or to the nearest eatery. Women worked in kitchen gardens, or talked with neighbors across the fence. Laughter drifted from a half dozen different sources, mingling with the drone of chatter until it was difficult to even think.
“Enjoying your first taste of civilization a bit more now?”
“What?” William blinked, then gave a shrug. “It is not what I expected, that is true. The people here seem so happy, though. Everyone goes about their business, not worried at all what the dark hours might bring. There is something very . . . . satisfying about that.”
“Life was rather difficult in Isterial, wasn’t it?”
“It never seemed to be at the time, but now after seeing how the people of Korvana live, I cannot help but feel guilty, knowing my family remains there, enthralled into servitude.” The boy paused, and a shadow passed across his face. “I hope they are alright. My father is an important man to the community, I do not think the upyr would harm him just because of my disappearance, but now with Lucius gone as well . . . .”
“Hey, don’t let it eat at you. I’m sure all your parents care about is knowing that you’re safe from that monster.” An image of her own father and mother flashed through Temperance’s mind, their smiles tinged with sadness. Whatever life they had hoped for their daughter to lead, it was doubtful her current situation came anywhere close.
She pushed the image aside. Even if they had lived, my future wouldn’t have been any different. Grandpa would have still seen me made into a Pistol Warlock, one way or another. There’s no escaping where destiny leads us, but we can all choose what we make of the journey along the way.
William ha
d turned from her, staring down the street. “I hope you are right, but I still cannot help thinking that I should have done things differently. Perhaps coming here was a mistake. All I have accomplished so far is to spread my own suffering to everyone I encounter, yourself included.”
They stopped in front of a hotel, the sign out front faded from the sun to the point of illegibility. Temperance placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I know it’s hard to see it right now, but none of what’s happened is your fault. I’ve been where you’re at before, and nothing good comes from carrying that guilt around. Just focus on putting one foot in front of the other and march on. Think you can manage that?”
“I—I will do my best.”
“Good, and remember, you’re not alone in this. Another couple of days and you’ll be surrounded by people in the same boat that you are.” For the briefest of moments, Temperance couldn’t help but feel jealous of the boy for that fact. There was a time she would have given anything to have someone else that knew what she was going through. The closest she had ever come in that regard was . . . well, Astor.
Before she could dwell too much on that particular bit of grief, she reached for the hotel doors. “I don’t know about you, but I think it’s time for a bit of well-earned relaxation, don’t you?”
William smiled, and the sight sent a flare of warmth through Temperance’s heart. “I could not agree more.” Then the smile faded somewhat. “Should we not be more concerned about Lucius? He could still find us again before the train arrives.”
“Let the monster come. I’ve beaten him twice before in a straight-out fight, no reason to think I can’t do it again.” Of course, she still had her knife then, along with other magicks to turn the tide of battle, but the thought didn’t concern her too greatly. They would find a way through. “Now c’mon, my stomach is fit to pitch a full-scale riot if it doesn’t get some food soon.”
They slipped through the doors of the hotel. As they closed behind her, Temperance felt a smile creeping onto her own face. Horse-beast, bandits, and upyr, we’ve survived them all. I don’t think the Divines can throw anything at me now I’m not ready for. After all, this might not be the life my parents would have wanted, but I am what destiny has made me.