9: Forgery

As the sun set, Leiyn crested the last rise and glimpsed the Lodge emerging above the trees. 

Despite herself, some of her tension slackened at the sight of it. Partly it was the relief of homecoming. As much as she felt at peace while ranging the wilderness, the Wilds Lodge was always a welcome respite from the hardships of roughing it in the outback. Even more reassuring was the prospect that she might learn answers to the questions plaguing her.

"Tadeo will know, won't he, old boy?" Leiyn rustled Steadfast's mane. "He always has an answer."

Though, if history was any guide, he usually gave the answer she least wanted to hear.

She let the stallion set the gait as they rode up the gentle incline. Tall grass parted before Steadfast's long legs and tickled the bottoms of Leiyn's doeskin shoes. With spring well upon them, grass that was golden or brown most of the year had turned bright green, matching the fresh leaves that had returned to the hibernating trees.

As she neared the north tower, Leiyn raised her gaze to the lookout. Old Nathan leaned out of the watchtower's opening, his long face set in its usual frown. Cocking an amused smile, she raised a hand in greeting. He didn't bother waving back. Nathan was the eldest ranger in the Lodge, and from what she'd heard, he'd always lived there. Tough as a maple's roots, she didn't see how anything could put an end to the man, no matter the length of his years.

Though curious about any rumors that might have passed through, she knew better than to ask the cantankerous man after he'd descended his tower to let her through the gate. Instead, she continued around the range to the stables. The stables had grown with the rest of the Lodge. Two dozen well-bred horses could occupy the stalls if, for some unprecedented reason, all the rangers were called in at once. Though apprentices took turns grooming the beasts, no stable hand awaited her, for each person was expected to take care of their own mount. Dismounting, Leiyn led Steadfast to a stall and went quickly through the motions of unsaddling and rubbing him down. The sable stallion nudged her with his head for her efforts, always keen to show his gratitude. 

"Anything for you, old boy." Leiyn smiled as she fetched hay and water. With a final scratch behind Steadfast's ears as the stallion bent to eat and drink, she strode to the great hall.

After leagues of swift riding, her legs felt wobbly. Sweat gathered over the long day clung rank to her skin. But hunger ached in her belly, and her desire for answers drove her into the great hall rather than toward the baths.

She entered to the usual riotous atmosphere. Once more, Yolant was singing and playing the gourd, this time a common tavern ditty called "The Dryvan's Husband," which had a quick melody that tugged even Leiyn's feet to dance. Though there was no capering just then, Naél and Camilo were back at each other, racing around a table caterwauling like cats while their peers jeered at them.

Pressed for answers, she only dodged around the rowdy apprentices and barked a sharp reprimand after them, though her words went unheard. With thinly veiled amusement, she let the boys go and turned toward the called greetings from the other rangers present. Leiyn wove her way through the great hall, swaying slightly with the music, and made for their long table on the far side.

"Back so soon?" Isla rose from the table and made to embrace her but paused at the sight of her soiled clothes. "I thought the ride to Folly was further than a day."

Leiyn raised an eyebrow. "Very amusing."

"But really, it's not like you to skip out on patrol. And you look as if you've had another run-in with titan trappers."

Leiyn grimaced at the reminder of that past chapter in her life, a hand halfway rising to the scars on her neck until she stopped herself. "I'm not half-strangled though, am I? But I can't say what happened is much better."

Isla waited a moment, then shrugged. "Fine. Save the tantalizing bits for Tadeo. My food is getting cold anyway."

Isla led her to the bench, and as they settled down, Leiyn took stock of the others around them. Tadeo was present, as usual, whittling away at another of his carvings, and he flashed her a small smile in greeting. Gan was also there, a middle-aged jester of a man who had long ago immigrated to Baltesia from Altan Gaz, the Kalgan colony that lay to the east. Marina, too, sat at the table. Gan appeared to be telling one of his outrageous stories to Marina, who listened with her usual skeptical air.

Plates were arrayed before each of them, this time boiled carrots and potatoes, spit-roasted game, and forest greens. Leiyn longed to fetch a plate of her own, but her questions were more pressing than her belly's needs.

Leiyn turned back to Tadeo, and without preamble, she blurted, "I have to give report. There's something you should know about."

Tadeo nodded, as if he'd expected nothing else. "What is it, Leiyn?"

She rustled in the small oilskin pouch she kept at her hip and pulled out the writ of passage. Her hasty storage of the paper had done little to improve its condition, and it was coming apart around the arrow-tear.

"What is that, a rag? It can't be a document in that condition," Isla noted drily.

Leiyn ignored her and passed the parchment across the table. "I confiscated this from a Gast war party along the Tortoise Bluffs."

In his careful way, Tadeo slipped out his small pair of reading glasses and slowly lifted the paper to examine it. Leiyn had to keep from drumming her fingers on the table. She wondered if she had time to fetch dinner before he finished reading it. Part of it was nerves; there was little chance that Tadeo would miss what had caused the paper's tear, and she didn't need him thinking her rasher than he already did.

"Well?" she finally prompted.

The lodgemaster lowered the paper and peered over his glasses. "You didn't confiscate it, Leiyn. This is a legitimately signed and sealed writ of passage."

"It cannot be. They were armed, Tadeo. They rode draconions and towed no wagons. Saints, they awoke an ash dragon from Nesilfo! They aren't here to trade. Omn's eye, I know they came to kill."

Tadeo only watched her. He had a hunter's patience and a priest's temperance. She'd only seen him become infuriated a handful of times before and was glad it occurred so infrequently, though she wished she could draw out some anger in him just then.

"An ash dragon?" he asked.

Only then did she realize how her conclusion sounded when spoken aloud. Triggered the bear trap now, she admonished herself. She had no choice but to continue.

"One rose from the Clouded Fang, as I said. It was just after their passage."

"The Gasts couldn't have been near Nesilfo if you encountered them this afternoon."

Once again, she was forced to restrain her frustration. "They weren't," she admitted. "But we don't know what Gast shamans are capable of. And besides, who's to say there aren't more of them out there? Maybe a second shaman raised it."

Tadeo only continued to stare at her, his silence a reprimand. Even amid her anger and alarm, Leiyn knew the unsubstantiated theory was unworthy of even an apprentice ranger. Yet she clung to it all the same.

"I don't know what we can say about titans," Isla spoke up. "It could be a natural occurrence, or it could be Gasts. But when it comes to the writ… If I may?" 

Isla reached for the paper, and Tadeo handed it over. She examined it for several moments before looking up and giving Leiyn a helpless shrug. "It's unusual that a Lord Conqueror signed it, I'll give you that, but they have the authority to grant passage through World King Baltesar's lands."

Leiyn's temper was quickly rising. She clenched a fist under the table and attempted to control herself. "It must have been forged, then. Think about it. It's easier to fake a conqueror's signature than the Lord Governor's, what with the garrisons constantly coming and going. And what reason could a Suncoat leader have for giving Gasts free passage? The Union has never had a warm relationship with the natives of the Veiled Lands, even less than the Tricolonies."

Her claims were all but historical fact. Since the beginning of the colonization of the Veiled Lands, so named for the nearly impenetrable fog bank that shrouded the continent along the Torrent Sea, their motherland had adopted harsh policies toward Gasts and the other natives. Following the Titan War, the old Caelrey had decreed they be killed on sight, and even now, Gasts couldn't be legal citizens of Baltesia. The natives often returned the hostility, and Leiyn had never met a Gast with a friendly smile.

Yet, though she knew what she knew, Isla and Tadeo's raised eyebrows didn't tell the same story. 

"Don't close your eyes to other perspectives, Leiyn," the lodgemaster said. "You must consider all the threads."

Her irritation spiked. The last thing she needed was a lecture. But because it was Tadeo, she kept back any words she might regret. 

"Such as?" she asked evenly.

"Lord Mauricio openly seeks increased independence for Baltesia. He has protested to the Caelrey of the levies and restrictions imposed on us and threatens further action if his requests are not met. For World King Baltesar, these are likely untenable demands. He won't willingly release his hold on the colony."

"So, you're saying Baltesar is setting the Jaguars on us to punish the colonists for the Lord Governor's demands?" Her tone betrayed her incredulity.

The lodgemaster gave her a small shrug. "I am raising doubts as to your assertion. You should not draw your bow unless you mean to loose, doubly so for accusations. Gasts and the other native peoples of the Veiled Lands have been, on the whole, friendly. Many live in our towns here in the Titan Wilds as our neighbors. Do you not think they, too, wish to live in peace?"

"Peace?" A bitter laugh escaped her. "I don't know about you, Tadeo, but I haven't forgotten what happened at the Rache homestead, what the Jaguars did to that family. Believe that Gasts want peace if you wish, but this tribe poses a danger to Folly and the other settlements. As rangers, it's our duty to protect our fellow Baltesians."

Their conversation had finally drawn the attention of Gan and Marina, and Gan chimed in, "Pissing right you are, Firebrand! Ferinos have never given us a reason to trust them."

She grimaced at the sobriquet as well as the slur, which she knew would grate on the others. Yet appreciative of the support, she gave Gan a nod.

Tadeo nodded as well, though she suspected it wasn't out of agreement. "I know you believe that, Leiyn. And I know many share your beliefs." His eyes flickered toward Gan, but they settled back on Leiyn. "But Gasts who live in this territory are Baltesians as well. They aren't 'feral' as some assert, but people, with all the flaws and virtues that anyone possesses. It has never been otherwise."

"And I suppose you think Jaguars are well-intentioned too?" She couldn't hide her disdain, even for him. As much as she respected and cared for Tadeo, the lodgemaster's feelings toward Gasts had always rubbed her raw.

Tadeo gave her a sad smile. "The Jaguars were only accused of that tragedy, never convicted. There's no evidence but rumor that they were behind it. And when I inspected the wounds upon the bodies there, they appeared not to be inflicted by hatchets and macuas, but swords and arrows such as colonists use."

Leiyn hadn't heard that before. Still, she only set her jaw against the assertion. As much as she trusted Tadeo's eye and judgment, she'd heard the blame ascribed to Jaguars far too often to believe otherwise.

Tadeo must have seen it, for he shook his head. "You have a good heart and good intentions, Leiyn, but you are blind when it comes to the Gast people."

His disappointment had always cut through her like a knife, and this occasion was no exception. Instead of shaming her into silence, Leiyn found her voice rising in volume.

"You think I'm blind?" 

At her statement, which she'd nearly shouted into the dining hall, many of the apprentices glanced her way. Yolant broke off her song with raised eyebrows as if to say, Is this how a ranger behaves before younglings? 

Chagrin was the balm Leiyn needed. With an effort, she reined in her temper and tried to present a more reasonable front. She knew she wouldn't listen to hysterical arguments. She had to be calm. She had to be in control.

"I'm not blind," she said in a low voice. "I know them better than either of you."

She could tell her companions didn't wish to resurrect old disagreements; neither did she, for that matter. The last thing she wanted was to deal with bloodthirsty Gasts.

But she wouldn't let the ferinos do to someone else what they'd done to her.

When Tadeo spoke, she could tell he chose his words carefully. "It's best if someone else handles this, Leiyn."

She'd stood before he finished speaking. "No. I'm going after them."

He was at a disadvantage in this, for she knew his philosophy of leadership. He sought to mold himself to the needs of the Lodge and his rangers, bending to meet each where they were instead of forcing his will upon them. Tadeo was not one to forbid someone once they'd declared their intentions.

Her old mentor frowned for a long moment, then glanced at Isla. "Will you go with her? This party should be returned their writ of passage. I will have someone else cover the Coyote Fens for you."

"Of course." Isla glanced at Leiyn. "So long as you take a bath first."

Despite herself, Leiyn gave her friend a weak smile. "So long as you promise to keep up this time."

"With Steadfast? Forget it. Gale is fast, but no one can outlast that stallion of yours." Isla patted the bench. "But come; sit down. Or better yet, grab yourself a plate before the little gluttons claim the scraps."

Though even the apprentices would be hard-pressed to eat the kitchens out of stock, it was sound advice. She was loath to leave off the Gasts' trail for even one night, but in this, she had to relent. The war party was unlikely to reach their destination that evening, wherever it might be, and both she and Steadfast needed the rest.

Sighing, Leiyn made her way to the kitchens.

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