Tarri Mandeil thought that the worst thing that could ever happen to her was the night she ran out of Rostell d'Nache's burning barn, naked as the day she was born, her hair burnt away to fuzzy stubble, and Vallel d'Nache in much the same state just behind her. But she was wrong.

Tarisa had been the prettiest girl in Khymrych. She could have had her pick of the village's young men, but all she really wanted was to NOT be a farmer's wife. She had walked out a few times with Tomas, the tailor's son. But after only a few meetings he tried to take certain liberties, and she had refused to see him again.

Vallel d'Nache wasn't like the other boys. He was wiry and studious rather than bulky and boisterous. He was kind to her when the other boys were merely polite. He even shared his books with her, without teasing her for her being able to read. Tarri thought that if she married Vallel, she could convince him to become her father's apprentice and let his sister and her husband take over the sheep farm. She even thought that she might be able to come to love him, in time, as her mother had loved her father before she had died.

They walked out together fairly frequently for several months, and Tarri occasionally permitted him a few of the liberties Tomas had been denied. But he still hadn't said anything about speaking to her father, and she was beginning to wonder how long she would have to wait.

After a month of agonized, sleepless nights, she finally decided she would have to help his decision along. So one evening, when they had ducked behind the blacksmith's shed for a little kissing and fondling, she whispered that he should sneak out later that evening and meet her in his father's barn.

Everyone in the village considered Vallel an honorable and dutiful young man, even if he was a little odd. She was sure that if she surrendered to him, he would feel obliged to marry her. And he had always been gentle with her during their inexpert groping. Not like Tomas, who had grabbed her small breast through her shirt and squeezed it like an overripe melon... She was sure he wouldn't hurt her.

She had been almost right. Half-buried in the sweet-smelling hay, both of them giggling with nervousness, Vallel's caresses had been increasingly urgent, but not unpleasant. She was even beginning to enjoy herself. And then... Just as she felt she was ready to allow that final step, the hay next to her shoulders - the hay under Vallel's hands - burst into flames.

In surprise, she shrieked and jerked away. Her beautiful golden hair, however, flared and shrivelled so rapidly she barely had time to be frightened before Vallel, cursing, knocked it out. By then, the fire had spread to the rest of the hay, swallowing their clothes. It was too big for them to put out.

And Tarri had seen that their small candle was still standing. The flames had come from Vallel himself. She had stared at him for a long few seconds in sudden fear -- and then fled.

The humiliation of that event had led her to lock herself in her room, sneaking out only in the darkest night for food and water, refusing to see or even speak to anyone. A little less than two weeks later, Vallel had come to the house - she heard his voice in the parlor. Her father pounded angrily on the door, but she'd held her breath and hoped he'd go away. She sighed in relief when he finally left, only to catch it again when she heard Vallel's voice outside her window. "Tarri? Tarri, please...!" She hid under the covers as she hadn't done since she was a tiny babe, shivering in terror and praying he would go. Eventually, he did.

Two days after that, her father threw a raging fit. "He's GONE, girl! That fire he caused - Rostell sent him to Marsember where he can be controlled! 'Twas your last chance at some kind of decent end! What am I to do with you now? You're not fit for marriage, not after that!" He threatened to break down the door, but it was relief at Vallel's leaving that finally allowed her to open it.

In time, her father's rage subsided somewhat. The village grapevine said that Vallel had been sent to Marsember not for controlling, but for teaching, and that Rostell expected him back in a few years. Erik Mandeil practically rubbed his hands with glee. "Of course he'll have to marry you when he comes back," he said. "He's the one who ruined you. Rostell will make the boy see sense - he don't want to pay your forfeit." Tarri shivered, and prayed Vallel would never return. Better to stay here, living off the forfeit her father would force Goodman d'Nache to pay, than be married to a man who could burn her alive with nothing more than a thought.

Not that she was happy as she was. She had been the prettiest girl in the village, and one of the most popular. But now... For a time after the fire, she had been a laughingstock. She'd thought that was awful, but when the amusement wore off, things got worse. Never mind that plenty of the other girls had snuck into barns with their sweethearts: It was Tarri who'd been caught.

A month after Vallel left, Tomas had caught her in the back of the village's small general store. His lewd suggestion, lacking even the veneer of politeness, had shocked her silent. Lust suddenly turned to anger in his eyes, and he spat at her. "Put out for that mangy whelp, but not me? I'm no' good enough for ye?" He sneered. "Ye're used goods now, Tarri, an' everyone knows it. Be lucky if ye don't become the village whore." He spat again and stalked out, leaving Tarri shaking with reaction.

Tomas wasn't the only boy who felt he deserved a piece of her, now that her reputation was ruined. One of the farmer boys grew so insistent that she feared he would try to rape her. Her father came and ran the boy off, and Tarri stopped going to market alone.

She might have taken some comfort in the unflagging loyalty of her best friend, Mina d'Grey. But Mina had been married only a month or so after Tarri's humiliation, and moved with her new husband to his farm on the outskirts of Khymrych. She defended Tarri to any who would listen, but her new life kept her away from the bulk of the town.

The months dragged by, endless and grey. Then came the news: Vallel was engaged to a girl in Marsember. Tarri's sense of relief was palpable, but washed out by her father's fury. He'd stomped over to the d'Nache farm and come home raving. Though by all accounts, Goodman d'Nache wasn't happy about it, himself. Tarri's father had sweetened the pot with an almost astonishingly impressive dowry for her, though by rights he shouldn't have to give a thing. Rostell d'Nache exchanged angry letters with his son, but the answer remained the same: Vallel was staying in Marsember and marrying this girl.

Eventually, as it always did, Goodman Mandeil's anger wound down. Rostell d'Nache finally paid the forfeit, and Tarri sighed, trying to resign herself to her bleak and mostly cheerless future, grateful at least that a future marriage to the firestarter was no longer hanging over her head.

It was several weeks after this that Tarri's father got the letter that made him dance through the house with glee. He shoved it into Tarri's hands. "Read that, girl, and praise th' gods!" With trembling hands, Tarri read:

Tarri gasped with the roil of conflict within her. To escape the disdain and contempt and abuse was to abandon the only home she'd ever known. To win a chance at a new life, she would have to go to the very city where she wished to be least - to chance meeting him again.

But her father was already searching through his desk for his best paper. "They must be rich," he laughed. "A carriage? Three gold pieces a month?" He spun on Tarri suddenly. "There'll be none of yer funny business, mind! To be a laughingstock in Khymrych is one thing, but you'll not ruin the Mandeil name in Marsember, too!"

"But I-" Tarri realized she was not going to be given the choice, in any case. Why would she? she wondered. It was a wonderful opportunity. There was no reason for her father to listen to her childish fears. And why should he, when she herself was so torn? "...yes, Papa."

Once she accepted the decision, she suddenly felt better. Still frightened, yes, but not so helpless. And in Marsember, where no one would know about her ruined reputation, she might be able to begin anew...