At twelve to thirteen years of age, children went to the nearest Temple and were tested for magic. It was an annual ritual. It was always very exciting for the children who went, for it wasn't just that they were tested, but that they were no longer considered children, and were instead considered young men and young women. And the Gods always spoke to you this one time, and told you what you would be good at, and gave you a gift towards it. Boys heard the God, girls the Goddess.

  Of course, as her father had said, there were more soldiers than ever got told to be soldiers. You weren't forced. You could say no, and get something different. But a good gift towards a trade or your life was a thing of value, and she wondered what hers would be. Perhaps she would discover her magic was Fire, so she'd never burn anything and always be able to get a fire lit. That would be nice. Her papa could get the fire lit even on damp mornings, and it would be nice to be able to do that too.

  Her father was a Fire Mage, and his gift was that he could easily put Fire energy into what he crafted. He took longer than the average swordsmith to make a sword or dagger, but his would do Fire damage and protect the wielder from fire, and they were valued by adventurers. Her mother had a little Earth magic--not enough to go train in the big city--and she could do spells that would preserve meat and fruit compotes with no danger of them going off or molding. They also were good, when cast on a grain bin, to make it harder for the rats to gnaw through them, and they kept everyone’s "best" clothes from yellowing and cracking in the folds from age. She kept house, but "obliged" her neighbors with spells at harvest time and such, and they paid her back in a leg of mutton or a flitch of bacon, or a load of firewood, cut and stacked tidily in the wood shed.

  Sweetspring was a small town, and it did not have a Temple of its own. It had a small shrine and offering area with a caretaker who was also the Healer, but no actual avowed Priest or Priestess. So, every year the children who were of age loaded up when the fall caravan came and took passage to the Temple in Arnfeld, the nearest large town. They would return with the grain wagons that the grain factor would send out to pick up the village's grain.

  This year, that were three of them; two boys, Jiran and Oliver; and a young girl, Alandra. Alandra was only ten, and normally would not travel to the Temple until her twelfth summer. But, since her magic had come early, her parents had informed her that they would take her to the Temple early. Jiran's father was a woodcutter, and he had much to do in the Fall with getting firewood cut for the Winter for the village, andfor his contracts with a man in the larger town of Arnfeld. But Jiran's best friend Oliver was going, and given that they were as close as brothers, Oliver's father was happy to take both boys.

  Her mother packed their travel bags, and Alandra watched carefully to learn how it was done. Then, she watched with interest as the woodcutter and the other men in the village piled up the massive stack of wood on the cart. It was held in place with wooden poles along the sides, and with ropes that ran between them. The stacking of the wood was also carefully done.

  As she watched, her mother came out and spoke to the carter. There was some back and forth, and then they shook hands on a completed deal. Her mother put her hands on the cart, and closed her eyes, and Alandra heard/felt the magic move, like it did when her mother did one of the window barrier cantrips. Her mother did this in several places, then nodded to the men to resume loading. When they were done, she did it again but from the top. Then she climbed down and walked to the house, proud of herself.

  "Well, I've just saved us some silver. He was willing to trade a series of non-shift cantrips on his load for our passage: us, Master Karl, and the two boys. He says that if he can rely on the load not shifting, we can make better time."

  "I trust you with Master Karl," said Joram, nodding. "It's good, because the fellow came into town that ordered that sword set, but until he pays me part down tonight, we're short of silver."

  "If he's paying tonight, I can take money to get some things while we're there. I know the peddler marks his goods up, but if I'm there anyway, I can save that much."

  Alandra knew that there were different sorts of paying. It wasn't that they were going to starve. The bins were full, the smokehouse full, and Mama was out every day doing spells on the jars of compotes and the sour cabbage crocks. The cellar was full. And she knew that Papa had gold stored in Arnfeld, in something called a bank, where they kept it until he called for it. He said it was safer in the bank than keeping it in the village.

  But it did mean that usually they didn't have much copper and silver in the little chest within the big chest in the corner. Papa made swords and knives, and while he sold a few locally, most of his silver came from doing a big project that brought in sackfuls of silver; then, that was all for a long while. It was like that for the woodcutter too. He'd load up the wood, take it to the city and sell it there; and then bring silver home to pay the people who had helped load it and to buy things from the peddler and pay his taxes.

  Alandra looked forward to going to the city. Mama said they would buy things there instead of waitig for Martin Peddler to come back to Sweetsprings. They'd probably buy some fabric, and get some of the deep red and bright gold dyes that made such pretty embroidery thread. Maybe they would get some of the wool that was so smooth and spun up so fine, and the new kettle Mama had wanted. Alandra might even get a pretty ribbon to wear in her hair at the Harvest festival! She thought a blue one would be nice. Blue was her favorite color.

  She hugged Papa goodbye before he went to the forge to finish some work that prevented him from going with them. and looked wide-eyed at the four big oxen who were being put to the load on each wagon. The men were careful with them, and even their thumps and shoves were affectionate. They made sure that the harnesses were not twisted or too loose or tight, and that the yokes were sitting properly with the center thew pole, in order to pull straight. Other men were looking over the wagons and their wheels, even laying down and sliding underneath to check. They weren't taking one thing for granted, and Alandra thought that was right. Mama always made sure that she put her room to rights, instead of just taking her word for it. Disorder always causes trouble for someone, and she didn't like causing trouble.

  Everyone got into a group and one of the men said,

  "All right, I'm Tobias, and I'm Wagonmaster. What I say goes when we're on the road. Should make Arnfeld by just after SunHeight, if your cantrips hold, Mistress."

  "They'll hold if your ropes do, Master Tobias," her mother said back, and he grinned.

  "Good to have you along, Mistress. This your daughter?"

  "Yes, this is Alandra." Alandra took a step forward and dipped in a curtsey, as was nice to do when meeting adults.

  "Now then, girl, you stay with your mother like a burr on a dog's fur, you understand?"

  "Yes, Sir."

  "Going to have you women ride on the second wagon. You men can use those bows, I trust?"

  "I get my deer every year, "said Master Karl, Oliver's father.

  "We get rabbits all the time, and treerats too," piped up Jiran.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "Good enough. I ain't heard that we got bandits, but that don't mean there ain't none."

  "Quite right, Master Tobias," he said seriously. Jiran and Oliver were serious too. This wasn't play. This was grown-up stuff.

  "No wolves or scream-cats?" asked Elenda

  "Wolves don't attack a cart train like this usually," one of the drivers said. "Maybe in the late Winter to early Spring, cause the hunting's bad, but even then it's far more likely they'll go for a group walking or on horseback. Scream cats are dangerous if you're in the woods alone, but not for us on the road. They drop on your from ambush, so they only want one person. Just be careful if you go to the woods to take a leak, and you'll be fine."

  "Anything else?" There was silence.

  "Load up, then, and we'll be off."

  They stashed their bundles where the drivers put theirs, behind the seat in a gap between the front of the cargo area and the board seat for the driver. The drivers boosted Master Karl, and Jiran and Oliver scrambled up on top of the load, shifting until they had a comfortable seat, holding their bows and quivers in their laps. The carters all made quite sure that their swords were in reach at the edge of the cart, and each picked up a staff with its butt and tip shod in iron. One of the men saw her looking at it.

  "Only nobles can wear swords, mistress, but a man needs one on the road. So we keep them handy. For most things, a staff works well. Ye give it a poke or a rap on the head, and it decides to go hunt elsewhere."

  She smiled at him. These were nice people.

  Once up on top of the load, her mother spread out a heavy blanket and sat upon it.

  "It will keep our skirts clean," she said. Alandra sat down, and oh, it was like being up a tree! She could see everything! It was new and exciting to be so high in the middle of the village. Things looked different from here!

  "We're in the second place because we can be protected here," her mother said. "Plus, the cantrip I used to stick the logs in place can also be used to stick a man or a beast in place."

  "Oh, so then they would have time to shoot it."

  "Yes. So we are safe up here, and can enjoy looking about. You went out back before we left?"

  "Yes, mama."

  "Tell me if you need the bushes. We'll go together and keep an eye out."

  The carters walked beside the carts, watching the sides of the road, as the drivers, seated high, watched forward. Alandra was glad she was riding, not walking. She never could walk so far; though, she supposed, you get used to it.

  They were all ready for trouble, but the woods remained calm, with the only real sight of anything out of the ordinary being a deer that startled and jumped deeper into the forest. The birds were singing, and a gentle breeze rustled leaves just starting to turn colors in the woods. It was nice that there was no trouble.

  Up ahead, she began to see Arnfeld's walls. She had never been in a walled town before, and they seemed to her dreadfully big and imposing. Surely nothing could harm them in such high walls! As they drew closer, she began to see the gate they would go in at, and men the men that stood around it.

  As the carts drew closer, she could see that the men at the gate stopped each person going in. And they stopped her and her mother as well.. The men were wearing leather jerkins and had one spear apiece, and a club at their hip. They looked terribly threatening to her, and she was glad she didn't have to talk to them.

  “What is your load, Driver?"

  “Two tonnes firewood cut to length, on two four-hitch wagons, for Master Muggins, wood factor, on High Street at the sign of the Pollarded Oak. Three children, and a man and a woman passenger, riding for the Temple here, as there is none in Sweetsprings to test them for adulthood.”

  “Walk your beasts in town, and you people, peace-tie all but eating knives and unstring your bows, or you'll be fined by the watch. Staying at the Temple? Very well."

  He stepped back, and they creaked and rumbled through the gate.The children's eyes widened.

  So much! So much...everything! Tall buildings for giant people, she first thought, ‘till she saw an ordinary woman shaking a blanket out of one. Then she realized they were house on top of house, sometimes three times over! They were like the village with beams exposed between plaster, and interior shutters that all stood open on a sunny day like this. Laundry fluttered like flags from poles and lines. The bottom of the house was all shops. To her left, a cobbler, to her right, a tailor, along with a cat sunning herself on the doorstep just like home. And so loud! People shouting to be heard and making it worse: dogs barking, the oxen bellowing, and kids screaming in play, kicking a ball around in the middle of all this! And oh, dear, her hems and stockings would be ruined! So much dust, and slop, and mess!

  Her mother glanced over, and said,

  "Oh, rats and ruin! Joram shouldn't have distracted me so, I forgot to bring my pattens."

  Alandra looked around, and saw that some women had little wooden shoes, like the bottoms of clogs, strapped to their feet so they were a few precious inches above the street. But she was soon distracted by someone selling hot meat pies, someone else playing a wooden flute and somehow thumping a drum at the same time to produce a merry tune, and a cordwainer setting out a pair of bright red shoes on his front counter as a man with a great sweeping gown and a servant at his elbow looked them over. Next to that wasan embroiderer's shop, with great big windows and no counter, and women sitting with their backs to the light, stitching deliately away at ribbons and trims to create the split-silk embroidery that Alandra so admired. Above them, still with great windows, was a lacemaker.

  They were stopped for a moment by a large two-ox cart filled with bundles, and two men arguing.

  "It's to go to Master Portris, an this is his place, yes?"

  "It is, but don't you have the sense God gave you to take it round back to the warehouse? You'll have the watch fining me for obstructing traffic on the high street!"

  "Round back?" The man scratched his head.

  "Oh, Gods aid me," muttered the man on the doorstep. He stepped inside momentarily and came out with his staff and hat, proving himself a Guild member by the chain that flashed in the light.

  "Come on, man, I'll show you."

  The driver below her rolled his eyes and yelled,

  "Ya leave your wits at home?"

  "Left 'em in your sister's bed last night!"

  A hand gesture flashed from man to man, and the Guild member slapped the ox's shoulder and said,

  "Walk on, lad, there's a good boy," he said, and began to lead the oxen forward. Slowly the blockage began to clear.

  "The Temple is two streets down," said the wagon master, who had walked back to them. "We're stopped now; are you good to get down?"

  "We are, any Mage can take off the cantrips I put on. It's just bits of Pull here and there down to the bed and some of the other wood."

  "Well, that's clever! I think I'll use that in the future, Mistress, and my great thanks! Blessings to you and your girl!"

  They climbed carefully down, and got their bundles from the teamster.

  "Happy to travel with ‘ye again, Mistress!" he said, and Alandra smiled at him.

  Master Karl and Oliver and Jiran got down.

  "I've been here before, I know the way," said Master Karl, before he told the boys firmly to hold hands and follow close.

  So many things to look at as they walked! Greengrocers with bright green cabbages and orange carrots and lumpy brown whiteroots, and a spicer whose shop smelled like Heaven must smell. Firebark and sweetnail and gingere all mixed! A tavern, and the smell of the food over the fire, and people, and ale!

  Alandra just took it all in and kept one arm round her bundle and one hand tight in Mama's. It was all very new and strange and so very much!

  The Temple was very big. It was made of grey stone, and was so big you could see trees over the outer walls. They walked through a big gate that could accommodate farm wagons. They weren't the only ones, but the others were following a path round to the back of part of one building, while they went another way, to where great carved, dark wooden doors stood open. Figures in black and grey moved about in the great dim space. It was dominated by the two great white statues of the gods.

  She looked up at the faces of Mercy and Justice, who were the aspects honored here. Justice stood with one foot on a law book and one upon the ground. His sword was in one hand, and a key in the other. He looked firm but also kind, though his eyes were somehow very stern.

  Mercy stood by him, one of her hands reaching to His sword arm. The other hand comforted a figure who had her face buried in Her robes. Her gaze was steady and clear, but also compassionate and understanding. She liked Mercy.

  "Justice is kinda scary," whispered Jiran.

  "’Course he is," Oliver said. "But he protects us, too. And you can see, Mercy is reaching out to restrain him."

  "Yeah, I like that." Jiran paused. "I'm...scared."

  "Me too," Alandra said. "But we'll be okay. Everyone does this, and the Gods love us, so it will be all right."