Shepherding, Part 2
In which the true cause of the escaping sheep is revealed, and Fargon has relationship troubles.
Brye’s farm was easy to find - they simply followed the trail of tamped down plants and loose wool which marked the flock’s return. Tilt carried the lamb, practically melting as she cooed over it, and even Hyla was persuaded to feel its soft coat. Fargon tramped ahead with Dregorda at his side.
‘It’s utterly ridiculous,’ he muttered. ‘We could do well bringing the townsfolk around and turning them against the Pact, but instead we’re out here returning lost lambs!’
‘It’s a noble goal,’ Dregorda retorted. ‘We’re helping someone out. Besides, you know exactly why we can’t just go into every village on our route and say, “sorry, but you’re exactly wrong about everything you’ve thrown your lives into believing! Just drop it all now and we can be friends!” You think it’s easy for these people, being roped into such a foul cult?’
‘Well you’re changing your tune, aren’t you? I thought you were all about “death to the Shadow Moon!” and “We can’t let any of them go!” What happened to your vengeful spirit?’ Dregorda sighed, hugging herself.
‘That mindset hasn’t exactly been helping. Hyla might blame you for blabbing in Fernvale, but it was my temper that started the fight; fact is, I think we both could stand to be a bit more cautious.’
They walked on in silence for a while longer.
‘And is that what this is about?’ Fargon asked eventually. ‘Staying off the road, keeping out of the way of cultists? Is this you trying to be cautious?’
‘I’m not happy about how it’s turning out, to be honest,’ Dregorda sighed. ‘I thought Hyla would be happy I was showing initiative and trying to protect everyone, but-’
‘You did this to impress Hyla?’ Fargon let out a chuckle. ‘That’s a bad idea. I don’t think anything impresses her. Except music, and even then rarely!’ Dregorda barked out a laugh, and Fargon took it as his cue to continue, ‘In fact, let me tell you a few tales from our time growing up in Midlarch! I’ve got some stories I could tell you!’
They continued, Fargon regaling her with Hyla’s childhood exploits as, behind, Hyla walked just within earshot. The lamb turned and tried to munch on Tilt’s hair as she frowned.
‘He oughtn’t to tell stories like that about you,’ she said. ‘Isn’t that stuff... sorta private?’
‘Let him tell them,’ Hyla sighed. ‘I doubt there’s anything in there that would shock Dregorda. Besides, better he blows off steam this way than he loses his patience and hits me with a bolt of magic.’
‘...You don’t like Fargon, do you?’
‘He’s difficult to work with,’ Hyla agreed. ‘He’s not a bad person, but he’s not nice either. I may be arrogant, but he only thinks about himself.’
They continued on a little longer. Tilt let the lamb down after a moment, and watched as it sniffed at some leaves before taking a bite.
‘Fargon likes Dregorda,’ she said. ‘I don’t think Dregorda realises it. Do you think she likes Fargon back? Do you think she would if she knew?’
‘I’m not gonna speculate on that,’ Hyla responded sharply. ‘Come on - we ought to get this lamb back to the farm before we lose the light.’
-
At length they arrived on the outskirts of the forest, on a stretch of land which stood between the numerous trees and a stout fence. Well, mostly stout; there was a determined hammering a little way down, where Brye was doing her best to mend a break in the fence. As one, the group sauntered towards her.
Brye stood uneasily as they approached, but brightened and waved as she saw the lamb in Tilt’s arms.
‘I can’t believe I missed one!’ she sighed. ‘Clearly I’ve been working too hard these past few days - which is why I need to get to the bottom of this. Can you four really help?’
‘We’ll do what we can, ma’am,’ Hyla said. ‘No promises, but we’ll keep watch tonight at least.’ Relief flooded Brye’s face, enough to make Dregorda blush, and she looked between the four of them.
‘I can’t thank you enough,’ she said. ‘I’ve been waking up to missing sheep for almost two weeks now, and they’re always just a couple of miles down into the forest. What sort of strange thief rustles a whole herd of sheep, only to leave them in the woods?’
‘We’ll let you know tomorrow, hopefully,’ Fargon said. ‘In the meantime, the day’s getting on - is there anything else we ought to know? And have you got any food?’
‘Only if you can spare it!’ Dregorda jumped in quickly. ‘Please. We wouldn’t want to eat you out of house and home.’
‘I’ve got a little put by,’ Brye said. ‘I’ll put something together for you - the least I can do. As for what you ought to know: it’s always this spot in the fence that’s broken, and the sheep tracks lead the same way each time; the rustlers don’t seem to leave footprints, and I’ve only ever seen them twice - both times I only saw one person, and seemingly no dogs to herd the sheep.’
‘And your dogs didn’t alert you?’ Hyla asked. Brye shook her head. ‘Could it be anyone you know?’
‘My neighbours would have no reason to steal my sheep. They’ve got their own, or other animals to look after. And spirits know they can’t afford the feed for my two-dozen sheep along with their animals!’
‘I think that’s all we need,’ Hyla said. ‘Thank you for your help - we’ll rest up here and keep posted during the night.’
In the next hour Brye brought out some cold cuts - lamb, mostly - and a few cheeses, and some blankets to keep them warm, and they were pleasantly surprised when she brought them a tray of ale as the sky began to turn from blue to pink.
‘She’s been very generous,’ Fargon said, once she’d gone again. ‘It’s not a village alehouse, I’ll admit, but doing the right thing certainly has its perks.’
‘Just remember to stay alert,’ Dregorda said. ‘We’ve got to actually do the good thing, even if we’re already reaping the rewards.’
‘I know, I know!’ Fargon sighed. ‘But hey, if you want to stay up and keep me company...’ he waggled his eyebrows as he reclined on a blanket.
‘Ugh, pig!’ Dregorda spat. Fargon recoiled, and glowered under Hyla and Tilt’s giggling as Dregorda moved away to where they had set up the tents.
‘Hey, can’t blame me for shooting my shot!’ he protested. Hyla buried herself in busywork, failing to conceal her amusement.
‘Not a good time for it, pal,’ she said. ‘You’d have better luck with me, and I’m not interested either.’
-
They went without a fire that night, instead wrapping themselves in blankets and bedrolls, and their tents were on the forest’s edge, away from the sheep tracks. Hyla emphasised arousing as little attention as possible from their potential rustlers, lest they get scared away.
‘If they’re as careful as Brye says, they’ll spot us anyway,’ Fargon muttered. He was crouching in a copse of bushes, watching the darkness for any movement. Hyla was with him currently, but she would be leaving soon to snatch some rest before her watch.
‘I put my faith in their incompetence, rather than their professionalism,’ she replied. ‘We have evidence of a single person leading them into the woods and leaving them there. Why not start with that hypothesis?’ Fargon let out a chuckle.
‘You really believe that?’ he asked. Hyla shrugged.
‘It seems more likely to me than a professional operation repeatedly hitting the same target to no concrete purpose. Don’t you think?’ She eyed him pointedly, and turned to leave.
‘Wait,’ he said, continuing when she turned back, ‘did you really mean what you said earlier? Do you think Dregorda’s not interested in me?’ Hyla stared blankly.
‘I never said that,’ she said.
‘Alright but you implied it,’ Fargon said hurriedly. There seemed to be genuine anguish on his face. ‘What, no chance? Really?’
Hyla pursed her lips and set her face. She could see from Fargon’s face that this would require careful manouvering.
‘And what of it?’ she asked. ‘She’s not interested, there’ll be others. What’s wrong with that?’
‘Yeah, but...’ he cast around, searching for the right words. Hyla moved closer, kneeling beside him, and took hold of his shoulders.
‘What are you afraid of?’ she asked. Softly. Directly.
Fargon leaned forwards, and met Hyla’s hand against his lips.
‘No,’ she said. ‘Just... no. I’m not about guys. You’re afraid you’ll be alone? After this is over?’
‘Well I guess, but-’
‘But nothing, Fargon Dreamsbane. You’ve seen the Timberhearts of old - never alone, even after everything. After all the loss, all the pain! You’ll always have us, even if not in that way. We’ll be friends for decades afterwards.’
‘But-’
‘Fargon, you need to accept this,’ Hyla said. ‘We’re together as a group because we’re protecting what we love. Whether that’s our home, our family, or... something else. You joined the Timberhearts because you saw no other option to protect others - to be a hero. And now the road’s got bumpy, you’re asking yourself: what am I really in it for? You’re trying to find anything - anything at all - to justify the journey. I’ve got bad news for you, Fargon: the journey’s gonna be rough. The destination is worse. We’re going to have to fight a lot of fights, and we’re going to lose a lot of them. I don’t know about you, but I have no time to worry about “am I going to die alone?” when I’m thinking about that.’ She spied a shadow approaching from the fields, and there was a glint in her eye as she smiled at Fargon.
‘Don’t worry yourself too much about it,’ she said. ‘Take a look outside yourself for a minute and you might find there are others who appreciate all you do.’ And with that, she disappeared.
‘Wait, but!...okay.’ Fargon sighed. So much for that conversation. He turned to watch the fence, but a rustling of the bushes alerted him and he reached for his sword. He relaxed as Brye’s face appeared in the copse.
‘Did I surprise you?’ she asked. ‘Sorry. I know it’s late, but I can’t sleep knowing my sheep are in danger and, well... Did you want another drink?’ She gestured with the mugs in her hands and Fargon smiled.
‘Sure,’ he said, taking the profferred tankard. Brye took a seat next to him, taking a sip from her own. There was an awkward silence between the two of them.
‘I never thanked you for the ale earlier,’ Fargon said eventually. ‘Or the blankets; they’re helping tonight.’
‘Least I could do,’ Brye said dismissively. ‘You said it yourself, you guys are trying to save the world. If you’re taking the time to save my sheep in amongst that, I think you’re worth a drink or two.’ She nudged him in the shoulder with a fist. He smiled and stared out into the darkness.
‘You’ve already done so much for us,’ Fargon said. ‘Honestly, I think we needed a break from thinking about the whole world for a night.’
‘Just to focus on this part of it?’ Brye asked, and shivered. Fargon rolled his eyes.
‘What, did you give us all of your blankets?’ he asked. He opened his arm and Brye scooted closer in, allowing the blanket to be draped over her. ‘Your part of the world here isn’t bad, y’know. Except for the sheep rustling, of course,’ he added with a laugh.
‘You’re right there,’ Brye said, nestling up against him. ‘Nice to have some heroes here to put a stop to it.’
For a moment Fargon’s eyes were on the deepening shadows of the forest’s edge, but then he happened to glance down at Brye.
He took a look outside himself for once.
-
Two hours later Hyla came to relieve him from duty, to find Brye asleep against him as he sat watching the night. She smiled.
‘Are you still worried?’ she asked quietly, and he started. He smiled wanly at her - keeping still had worn him out.
‘Honestly? Yeah,’ he said. ‘But I’ll deal with it. Hey, are you okay if I just take her back to the farmhouse? I won’t be long.’
‘You sure? She could sleep in one of the tents, I’m sure Dregorda or Tilt-’
‘I want to make sure she’s safe if our rustler turns up,’ Fargon said, colouring. Hyla grinned and rolled her eyes.
‘Alright,’ she said. ‘Just... don’t stay for too long, okay? We’re gonna need you at some point.’
‘Just to make sure she gets to bed safe,’ Fargon promised. And indeed he returned just a few minutes later, stopping by Hyla’s side.
‘Thanks,’ he said, ‘for giving me some perspective.’
‘Don’t mention it,’ Hyla responded. ‘And before you go: you could do better than thinking you’re the spirits’ gift to women. Think about it.’
‘...’I’ll think about it,’ Fargon said uncomprehendingly, before sneaking back to his tent.
The night wore on. Hyla kept a steadfast eye on the darkness, watching for anything she might be able to see - under the stars and the moon she would at least see if someone approached the tent.
The first hour ground past, and Hyla shifted uneasily. She stood to stretch, working out the kinks in her legs and back from crouching so long, and when she crouched down there was a light shape in the darkness. It was staring at the fence.
It hadn’t been there when she stood. It hadn’t been anywhere. But now it had appeared and it was examining the slapdash handiwork on the fence posts.
It raised an arm like a hammer and brought it down, splintering the wood.
‘Hey!’ Hyla yelled, leaping from the bushes and drawing her axe. As she approached she caught sight of splotches of green about it, like moss, and a humanoid heap of material as a whole shape - some sort of dirt elemental? She turned to call for everyone and that was when the thing reached out.
Well, “reached” was the wrong word. It drew earth from below its feet up through its body, and the whole thing became an extention of its arm which rocketed towards Hyla. She coughed as it took her full-on in the chest, and she sprawled backwards, the bushes ripping at her arms and legs. She stood, bruised and bloodied, and made a tactical call.
‘You’re gonna need some time for those sheep,’ she muttered, and ran for the tents.
Tilt and Dregorda woke quickly and Hyla hurried them towards the fence, warning them to watch out for its attacks. Then she moved to Fargon’s tent. He was fast asleep and snoring loudly, oblivious to the world.
‘I don’t have time for this,’ Hyla sighed, and she dug her heel into his side.
Fargon leapt up with a groan and shot a hurt look her way.
‘I was asleep!’ he cried. He paled when he saw her expression.
‘It’s here,’ Hyla said. ‘Some sort of elemental. We need your magic for this, Fargon.’
Fargon grunted as he got to his feet.
‘Figures it’s a magical thing,’ he huffed. ‘I was all set for a decent night’s sleep!’
‘Yeah, yeah! Complain about it while you fight it, lover boy!’
At the fence, Dregorda was dodging and deflecting attacks. She had her sword drawn, but with its long reach she was having trouble getting in close to cut at it.
‘How are you holding up, Tilt?’ she called. From the other side of it, Tilt leapt over a swinging arm and fired a shot from her bow. The arrow flew true and embedded itself in the thing’s back... where it was promptly absorbed into the greater mass.
‘I’d be doing better if I thought we could actually hurt this thing!’ she yelled back. ‘Forget the arms, Dregorda - cut thing thing’s head off!’
An axe whirled overhead and buried itself in the thing’s chest, causing it to stagger back. Hyla and Fargon were approaching, weapons drawn - Hya was already reaching for the second hatchet at her belt.
‘We don’t want to kill this thing,’ Hyla commanded. ‘Fargon, do you think you can separate it from the ground?’
‘Briefly, at least,’ Fargon said. ‘Be ready when I do, everyone!’ Hyla split off and moved to back up Dregorda as Fargon sent a pulse of foce against the elemental.
Some sort of understanding seemed to breach its mass. The hatchet twisted into its form and the metal axehead was shortly expelled, minus a handle. It spun its arms high, causing everyone around it to duck, and then it sent the full weight of its mass against Fargon.
‘Uh, I think I-’ was all Fargon could manage before a wall of earth bowled him over.
Hyla looked up at the creature that was still standing. Without the earth to protect it, this was a tree-creature, humanoid in shape, with a lithe body built of living branches. Leaves formed a head of hair and its face was a featureless trunk of wood. Branches twisted and knotted into muscles to form the rest of its body.
‘Oh,’ she said. ‘I get it now.’ As it turned to reach for her she stood, swinging her axe in an uppercut.