Chapter 8

The fields around Rosewood had been harvested a week or two back, and now were filled with tents and wagons. The Harvest Moon Fair was the biggest festival of the year, and the only thing like it for a couple weeks travel in any direction. Anyone with anything to sell or trade came to the market here. The size of the village more than doubled, and the sounds of revels and music and laughter could be heard at some distance.

As they approached the Fair, Mirria dismounted, hung Bonnie's reins a hook on the back of the wagon, and rode on the seat next to Indeira. She kept the hood of the cloak she wore up over her ears. She had avoided humans for many years, after too many had tried to run her off or kill her when they saw her. She did not want to have that happen here.

They found a decent spot to camp with the wagon, out near the edge of the fields. Not as many folks were willing to camp right up by the trees, but Indeira and Mirria knew they would have no trouble there. Torvin asked if he might camp with them, to which they agreed. The three of them seemed to get along well, and it made camp tasks easier for all of them.

After they had set everything up, and Indeira had another cup of willow bark tea, they decided to explore a bit. Bonnie agreed to carry Indeira bareback to the edge of the market. There, she knelt down so Indeira could swing her good leg over and stand up. Mirria handed her the crutches, and then took Bonnie back to their camp. They knew Bonnie could have gone on her own, but they weren't sure how people would react to a loose horse.

Torvin and Indeira slowly walked into the market, and Mirria rejoined them a few minutes later. They wandered along, looking at what was offered for sale.

One booth was obviously selling used things. Everything from weapons to clothing was displayed on the tables. Indeira approached the merchant, recognizing him as Sorren, one of the members of the town council.

"Will you buy things for coin?" she asked.

"It depends what you have." the Sorren replied.

Indeira pulled out a couple of the knives and laid them on the table. He picked them up and looked them over.

"The quality is not bad," he said, "but they have been well used. I could give you a few coppers a piece for them."

Indeira picked them back up, saying, "I will keep looking. Thank you."

"A silver each." the man said.

Indeira looked at his face. She thought about watching her father bargaining in past years. "Three silvers. Each."

The Sorren grumbled a bit, then said, "Five silvers for both."

She set the knives back down. "Done." she said.

He produced the coins and handed them to her. Then he looked at her more closely.

"Aren't you Harvald's daughter?"

She blinked back a sudden tear. "Yes." she replied.

"Is he here? I would speak with him." the merchant said, looking past her.

Then he looked back at her face. "Has something happened?" he asked, in a gentler tone.

"We were attacked by bandits. He was killed." she said softly.

The merchant looked at Torvin, and then Mirria, where they stood behind her. "I am sorry to hear that." he said. "What happened to the bandits?"

Indeira looked him in the eye and said. "We killed them. Those knives were theirs."

The merchant looked surprised. Then he looked at her crutches, and said, "Did they do that to you?"

"Yes." She replied, straightening her shoulders. "But I did not die."

"No, I see that you did not." he said, with a small smile. "Well, we will just have to find another way to settle the dispute. If you have anything else from them, I will give you a fair price."

"Dispute?" she said. "Perhaps I can help?"

Indeira's father had often been called on to settle differences between people. Usually these had to do with boundaries of holdings, or wandering livestock. She and Raith had sat with him every year at the spring and harvest fairs when he was asked to settle these things. Harvald was respected as a fair man.

The merchant looked at her for a long moment. "Perhaps you can."

"We are camped at the west edge, near the trees." Indeira told him. "Send someone for me if you need me."

"I will." He nodded to her, and she turned to leave. Torvin and Mirria fell in step beside her.

When they had walked a small distance from the booth, Indeira had to stop and wipe her eyes. Mirria then led her to a bench under a tree and made her sit. She and Torvin sat on either side.

"I will be fine." Indeira said with a sniffle. "And that will not be the only one who will ask after Father."

Mirria put one arm around Indeira's waist and squeezed gently. "I am herre." she said.

"I know. And I am glad you are." Indeira replied.

Torvin patted her shoulder. "It's hard to be reminded of someone you've lost." he said quietly.

Indeira looked at him. She could tell he was remembering someone he had lost, as well. She drew in a deep breath, and let it out again, leaning back against the tree. They just sat there for a few minutes, not talking, just existing.

"Indeira!" a voice cried out.

Indeira opened her eyes to see a red headed young man barreling down on her. "Where's Raith?"

She felt Mirria's arm tighten on her waist as she closed her eyes again in grief. Of course. Raith's best friend would be here. He always was. They only saw each other twice a year, but had been friends since they were toddlers.

She opened her eyes again and said, "Hello, Kelton." She took a deep breath, and said. "The farmstead was attacked by bandits."

The young red haired man standing before them opened his mouth in shock.

"Was Raith hurt? Is that why he's not here? How bad is he? Where's your father? How many bandits were there? Are they all dead?"

Kelton would have kept firing questions, but Torvin interrupted him. "Son, you need to sit down."

Something in Torvin's tone got through to Kelton, and he stopped talking and sat down right where he was.

"Mother, Father, Raith," Indeira wiped her eyes again, "They were all killed."

"No-o-o!" Kelton wailed. "Oh, no, no, no!" He put his face in his hands, and his shoulders shook as he cried.

Suddenly, he looked up at her, his face streaming tears, but serious. "And the bandits?"

"We killed them." she said.

"Good!" Kelton declared. "They deserved it! Wait! We?"

He looked more closely at Mirria, and his jaw dropped. "Changechild!" he gasped.

"My friend, Mirria." said Indeira. "And the reason I survived."

Kelton gulped, and though she didn't think they could, his eyes got even wider. Then he blinked. "You're beautiful!" he said to Mirria.

Mirria blinked back in surprise, and said, "Thank you."

"What are you going to do now?" Kelton said to Indeira. "How can you run the whole farm alone? And winter will be here soon!"

"I am not alone." said Indeira. "And winter supplies is why we are here."

Kelton looked at Torvin. "Who are you?"

"Torvin." he replied. He did not elaborate.

Indeira told Kelton, "We will be fine. Mirria fixed the roof this summer, and she is a good shot with a bow. Once we have grain for the animals, we will be set for the winter."

Kelton stood and stepped forward, leaning down to hug Indeira. "I am so sorry! So sorry! It must so be hard! Oh, I am going to miss Raith so much!"

He stood back up, looking down at her. His face almost comically sad. He had always been very dramatic. "You will tell me if there is something I can do to help, won't you?"

"I will, Kelton. Thank you."

"I have to catch up to Papa." he said, and turned and galloped off.

Indeira lowered her face into her hands. "Now the entire fair will know." she muttered.

"Perhaps we should return to our camp." said Torvin.

Mirria nodded. "That is a good idea." she said.

They all stood and moved toward the edge of the market. Bonnie met them on the road, kneeling for Indeira to mount. Mirria had called to her as they walked, and no one had tried to stop the mare's progress. They returned to their campsite, and ate their evening meal to the sounds of music and revelry from the camp and the fair.

A year ago, Indeira and Raith had slipped away from her father to go listen to the music, and even join in the dancing. She had been happy, almost carefree. She loved hearing the tales and ballads, the complex melodies of the fiddle and whistle tunes. But now, Raith was gone, and dancing was beyond her. She sat and stared into the flames of their campfire, feeling tears on her cheeks.

Mirria came up on her knees beside her, and wrapped her arms around her friend. Indeira leaned her head against Mirria's and let the tears fall. Across the fire from them, Torvin picked up a small piece of wood, took out a knife, and started whittling. He said nothing, letting the silence be among them.