Marigold Thistledown's Arc

Chapter 2 of 4

By dawn, Marigold saw the cliffs at the village edge looked wrong. A guild watcher had climbed the tall stone face and hung a black banner from its ledge. The cliffs now loomed like a warning sign over the road. Every cart coming up the path would see it first. She walked out to meet the trouble. At the road's bend, she found a broken crate, a spilled sack of grain, and deep wheel ruts in the mud. A carved stone marker by the road bore fresh scratches where a caravan had turned hard and fled. Marigold knelt and touched the grain. Still dry. They had run only hours ago. She climbed back and called the new residents together under the vine arch. The blue troll, the elf child, the green-feathered traveler, and the others gathered close. "The watcher is scaring off our trade," she said. "I have a bad idea. I want you to hear it before I try it." Her plan was simple and clumsy. They would build a trading post off the main road, hidden behind the cliffs, and walk goods in on foot. She drew it in the dirt with a stick. The green-feathered traveler pointed out three mistakes. Marigold fixed them in front of everyone and thanked him out loud. They worked through the day. They raised a small shelter of stacked stone and old timber, tucked where the cliffs hid it from the road. Marigold sent the elf child and two others to walk the back trail and find the fled caravan. By dusk, a single trader followed them in, wary, leading one mule. He unloaded flour and salt inside the hidden walls and took coin in return. The watcher still stood on the cliffs. The main road stayed empty. But goods moved tonight, and the village ate. Marigold stood at the arch and counted what she had won and lost. The guild had not left. She had only gone around them. Tomorrow, she knew, they would come down off the cliffs to see why the smoke still rose.