Deepwoods (Book 1)

by Honor Raconteur

  Denney groaned and banged her head against the table.

  They spent all of the next day going from one inn to the next, trying to pinpoint where Lirah’s party had stayed. By the time the afternoon sun threatened to sink past the horizon, Siobhan’s feet were throbbing. In fact, her legs were threatening mutiny if she didn’t sit down soon. She finally gave up and went back to the inn with Wolf, meeting other people in the main room who had already called it quits for the day. After an hour of sitting there, however, there was still no sign of Grae or the stone gatherers.

  Concerned that Grae, in his preoccupation, would keep them out past dark, she told everyone to order dinner and left the inn, intent on fetching them herself. She’d barely gotten to the main road when she spied Hammon coming her direction and waved him down. “Why are you alone?”

  “Denney and Grae are just behind me,” Hammon assured her. He half-turned to look behind him. “I lost them in the crowd crossing the main intersection, though. You don’t suppose Icean got lost, do you?”

  She let out a wordless growl. Yes, with Denney, that was entirely possible.

  Grae appeared from behind a group of chattering housewives and, spying them, weaved his way toward them. “Siobhan! I lost Denney in the crowd back there. Has she come this way?”

  She dropped her head and shook it in absolute despair. “Of course she didn’t go in the right direction.”

  “Uh-oh.” Grae glanced behind him. “This isn’t a good city for her to be lost in.”

  “Are the dogs with her?”

  “No, she sent them back to the inn several minutes ago. They were whining about being hungry.”

  So, in other words, Denney was completely alone and without one reliable guide to get her back to the inn. Heaven preserve her.

  “Grae, you go back to the inn. If we’re not there in twenty minutes, send out a search party. Hammon, you come with me.”

  “Right.” Grae shot a worried look at the darkening sky. “Find her quick.”

  “Will do,” she confirmed. Brows knitted together in concern, she started off for the intersection.

  At this hour of the day, everyone was going home from work, closing up shops, and making last minute stops to pick up dinner ingredients. The place was a madhouse with people going in every possible direction. Denney, with her directionally challenged senses, likely wouldn’t know up from down after five minutes in this crowd. Siobhan’s concern tripled, and she started calling out the girl’s name as she went down one street and then another, hoping that by some miracle she’d find Denney before trouble did.

  “Let go! I said let go! LET GO OF ME!”

  Siobhan’s head jerked around, alarm shooting through her. That was Denney’s voice! In this crowd of people, it was hard to see her, but she was absolutely certain that had been Denney, somewhere to the right.

  Grabbing Hammon’s arm, she tugged him hard. “This way. Quickly!”

  “What is it?” he asked in alarm, instantly following her.

  “I think Denney’s in trouble. I heard her yelling just now.”

  “Icean?” Hammon raised up on his toes, using his height to see over the crowd. “Yes, I see her. Straight ahead.”

  “What’s happening?” Siobhan demanded as she used her hands and elbows to shove people out of her way.

  “Two men have her by the arms and are dragging her toward that alley.” Hammon raised his voice to a bellow. “LET GO OF HER! NOW!”

  Siobhan felt her ears ring at the volume, but she felt grateful he had yelled, as she certainly didn’t have the lung power to be heard over this din.

  Instead of just following behind, Hammon stepped around her and blazed a trail straight ahead, still yelling for them to stop. Siobhan stuck close to his back, afraid to lose him in the crowd as people just melted back into position once he’d pushed his way through.

  Finally they reached a semi-clear area. She took in the whole scene in a second. Denney was leaning backward with all her might, fighting the hold of two men that were trying to drag her forward. They had both hands on her wrists, using considerable strength to hold on to her. Both men were tall, muscular, and obviously Teheranian. Denney had tears streaming down her cheeks, sobs pouring out of her mouth. When she saw Siobhan, she lit up in relief and screamed, “SIOBHAN!”

  Siobhan reacted instinctively. She closed in the final distance in a flash, and with all the strength that she could muster, struck both men hard in the sternum, driving the air from their lungs.

  Gasping for breath, their hold on Denney loosened. Hammon lost no time in grabbing Denny around the shoulders and hauling her away from them completely, bringing her to his own chest in a fiercely protective move. Denney openly clung to him, shaking and crying.

  Siobhan drew both swords and assumed a guard position in front of them, eyes snapping with anger. “What is going on here?” she gritted out between clenched teeth.

  One of the men—she dubbed him as ‘Drunkard’ because he stank of cheap alcohol—pointed to Denney with an outraged shake of the hand. “That woman belongs to us!”

  “That woman is Denney Icean, member of Deepwoods Guild,” Siobhan riposted icily. “I am her guildmaster. You want to rethink that statement, you gleeking clodpole?”

  “She belongs to us,” the other man asserted with quiet authority. He looked angry as well, but composed instead of flaring like his companion. “She has since she was born.”

  “No!” Denney refuted strongly. “My uncle bought me from you! I owe no debt to you!”

  Uncle? Bought? What by the wind and stars was going on here? Siobhan wanted to ask questions—she desperately wanted to ask questions—but this was not the time or place to get things sorted out. Whatever the history, she knew one fact to hold true: Denney had no business going with these men.

  “Your uncle is not here,” the man responded with that same eerie, irrefutable tone. “When you are out of sight of your owner, anyone can lay claim to you.”

  By Teheranian culture and law, that was unfortunately true. Siobhan tried to think hard and fast to get out of this without needing to fight them for the right to keep Denney.

  “Her uncle also belongs to Deepwoods.” Hammon’s voice was like a quiet rumble of thunder, low but full of dangerous power. “What belongs to one guildmember belongs to the guildmaster. Her guildmaster is before you. You cannot claim ownership here.”

  “That is not true by the laws of this city.”

  Siobhan knew in that moment that whatever was said, these men would not be convinced. They wanted Denney, and they didn’t care if they had to resort to tricks or break a few laws to have her. Her grip tightened on her swords.

  “I don’t care if it’s true by your laws or not. You have no claim over her and you can’t have her. Go your own way.”

  “Or what?” Drunkard challenged, lip curling in a sneer.

  Tran melted from the crowd and with deliberate movements took up a stance next to Siobhan. Grae must have sent out a search party as she’d requested. She stole a glance at him and felt fear shake her inner core at the dark expression she saw there. Never before had she seen Tran so openly enraged. It scared even her, and that anger wasn’t directed at her.

  “Take one step,” Tran crooned darkly, voice promising death. “Come near me and mine, if you wish to put your lives in my hands.”

  They eyed him from head to toe and back again, and for the first time, looked nervous.

  “Guildmaster, take her,” Hammon encouraged.

  Siobhan glanced over her shoulder and found that Hammon was already unsheathing the sword spear, ready to fight. Denney was reaching for her short sword, too, but her hand shook as she did so. She was in no condition to fight. Siobhan made a snap decision and sheathed her swords before turning back and taking Denney into the circle of her arm, giving the comfort that Denney so desperately needed.

  Hammon stepped forward to take her place, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Tran and not looking any more calm than the
dark giant. In fact, his features looked hard with anger.

  Drunkard, not able to take a hint, pointed angrily in Denney’s direction. “That woman belongs to us! We owned her mother, and by birth rights, she belongs to us!”

  “Why?” Hammon asked with soft menace. “Because she’s an illegitimate child? That’s it, isn’t it? Because she’s a half-blood, and a love child, you think you can do whatever you want with her?”

  “By the laws of the land, we can!” Drunkard snapped, his hand finally reaching for the sword strapped to his side.

  Hammon moved so fast that even Tran could barely keep up with his speed. The haft of the sword spear snapped out, hitting the man’s wrist with a sickening crunch. Drunkard gasped in pain, the sword dropping from his numb fingers. Hammon wasted no time in following up that attack with another sharp strike to the man’s head, striking him squarely in the temple.

  Drunkard’s eyes rolled up in the back of his head as he slowly sank to the ground, out cold.

  The other man didn’t stand much of a chance either. Tran didn’t even bother to draw a weapon, just lashed out with a fist and hit the man squarely in the gut. When he folded over, choking, Tran grabbed him by the back of his head and rammed the man’s face into his knee. It surely broke his nose, as blood spewed everywhere. With a disgusted snort, Tran tossed the man aside like a dirty rag.

  Hammon spat on their bodies. “You are boils, malcontents, nothing more than rump-fed measles!”

  “You know, Hammon, I believe that’s the first unforgiving thing I’ve ever heard you say.” Siobhan felt more than a little surprised at it, too. He was such a gentle, soft-spoken man most of the time. To hear such vehemence coming from him startled her.

  “I’m angry.” He didn’t even try to apologize for his words. “Even I get angry, Siobhan.”

  “Oh, I never doubted that. But this is the first time I’ve actually heard you get angry at someone or something.”

  “Ahh.” He shrugged slightly. “My father taught me that the tongue should have three gatekeepers: Is it true? Is it kind? Is it necessary? If it’s not one of those three, it’s best not to say it.”

  “Wise council,” she agreed. Considering his father’s reputation, she had to wonder just how well he heeded his own advice. Or perhaps this was one of those matters where a father wanted his son to follow what he said rather than what he did.

  She shook the thought off. “For now, let’s go back to the inn.”

  ӜӜӜ

  Tran knew where people were searching and they gathered up Wolf, Beirly and Fei as they retreated to the inn. Everyone took in Denney’s shaken expression and closed in ranks around her, but tactfully didn’t ask any questions.

  They’d made it all of three feet inside the inn’s main room when Conli spied them. He took in the iron grip that Denney had on Siobhan’s arm, and the waxy complexion of her face, and came out of his chair so quickly it fell in his wake.

  “Denney?!”

  Denney reached out for him, arms latching around his waist, and for the first time, she breathed out in relief like a drowning man finally putting his feet on solid ground. Conli returned the embrace just as firmly, his eyes locking with Siobhan’s, silently demanding an answer.

  She didn’t feel it right to say anything now, not with the room already half full of people and more coming in behind her. Instead, she turned her head and caught Sylvie’s attention. “Get us a back room to talk. Private one. Now.”

  Sylvie took in the atmosphere around them with a glance and gave her a wave of the hand in acknowledgement before hunting down the innkeeper. In moments, she was back, silently encouraging everyone to follow her.

  The whole guild trooped after her, most of them uneasy and wondering what was going on, all of them concerned with how uncharacteristic Denney was behaving. The dogs especially were sticking close, constantly nosing at her sides, although it took a few minutes before she was able to let go enough of Conli to pat them in reassurance.

  The private room was nothing more than a rectangular table with chairs around it and a door that kept out the noise from the main room. With ten people inside, it quickly felt cramped, but Siobhan closed the door anyway and stood in front of it, guaranteeing that no one tried to casually enter.

  Wolf looked from one face to another before asking in alarm, “What happened?”

  “Now that’s a question I can’t fully answer.” Siobhan kept her voice level, painfully even. “Denney. Conli. I haven’t asked this question for six years as I felt I didn’t have the right to pry or poke at old wounds. But that comes to an end tonight. What is your relationship with each other?”

  Conli stared at Denney’s bowed head, where it rested against his chest, for a long moment. Then he sighed in resignation before finally looking up. “She’s my niece.”

  Everyone stirred, half-surprised at his answer. Even Siobhan hadn’t expected that. She’d always assumed Conli as Denney’s father. “Niece.”

  “You know I come from a family of apothecarists on Island Pass?” he asked. “Well, we often took goods and supplies to Quigg or Converse, distributing them there. My brother went to Quigg, I went to Converse, usually. But then one day he said he was tired of going that direction and asked to trade. I didn’t think anything of the request and switched with him.” Conli’s face twisted into a bitter smile. “For ten years I didn’t think anything of it or why he avoided Quigg entirely. Then one night, he and my father got too far into their cups, and started talking. I discovered my brother had tangled with a Teheranian woman in Quigg, leaving her with child. I was outraged that he had so casually abandoned her there. Here, of all places! By doing that, he’d consigned both of them to a life of either drudgery or prostitution. He knew that. He knew that.” Conli’s eyes closed in a pained manner. “I argued with him, my father, my mother, begging them to at least go get the child. They wouldn’t.”

  “And then?” Hammon prompted quietly as Conli stalled.

  “I left the family.” Conli looked at him with sad eyes. “Our relationship wasn’t good to begin with, as I liked to study surgery, which they thought was beneath our family. But knowing that I had a niece or nephew out there, abandoned to the world, when that child should have had all the benefits and protection of my guild…I couldn’t live with that. I packed up and went to Quigg. It took me three months to find her.”

  “My mother had been sold to a brothel after having me,” Denney picked up the story quietly, although she didn’t release her hold on Conli. “I was ten, turning eleven, when Conli found me and bought my freedom. My mother felt she deserved to be there, so she wouldn’t leave. No matter how we pleaded with her, she refused to go. So I left with him instead.”

  “We haven’t heard from her since,” Conli admitted with a heavy sigh. “I try to check up on her whenever we pass through the city, but it’s so easy to lose people here. I haven’t heard a word about her for the past decade. Anyway, after I had Denney, I knew we couldn’t stay anywhere in Wynngaard. It was too dangerous for her. So we went east instead, into Robarge.”

  “We stayed in Converse for a while, but we didn’t like it there so much,” Denney admitted. “And then we went on that trip to Goldschmidt with a caravan, the one that Deepwoods was an escort for.”

  “And you were so welcoming to her, so kind, I couldn’t help but think it was the right place to stay,” Conli finished heavily. “The rest you know.”

  Yes, so she did.

  “I’m sorry,” Denney whispered. “I’m sorry. We should have told you before this.”

  “You should have,” Tran agreed. Stepping forward, he stroked her head in a gentle sweep of the hand. She looked up at the gesture, startled by it, only to see him looking back at her with kind eyes. “If you had, Denney, we’d have known how to protect you better. You’d never have been threatened by those men.”

  “We understand why you didn’t, though,” Wolf added softly. His mouth curved in a sad way, empathy and dark memories chasing
their way across his face. “At first, you were scared to say anything, right? Because you don’t want to bring your past with you when offered a fresh start on life. And then, this new life is so warm, so bright, that you feel like you can’t say anything. In time, the fear of losing everything you have gained clogs your throat, so that you can’t bring yourself to say a word at all.”

  That rang with the voice of experience. Siobhan watched him as he spoke, seeing the sincerity in it, and realized that in this regard he and Denney were exactly alike. She’d never thought it necessary, but at this moment, she needed to treat Denney as the wounded soul she was. As they both were, as Conli had sacrificed much in order to save his niece. Stepping forward, she wrapped her arms around both of them, which likely squished Denney in the process. The girl didn’t utter one word in protest, though.

  “You…don’t think less of me?” she asked in a threadbare whisper.

  “Never.” “No.” “Of course not.” Several voices protested at once.

  Tears started streaming from her eyes as she raised a hand, hugging one of Siobhan’s arms to her.

  “What is this?” Beirly demanded, reaching out and wiping the tears away with a thumb. “No tears, girl. It unsettles a man, it does. Tran, did you properly squash whoever it was that hurt our Denney?”

  “At the time, I thought I had.” Tran cracked his knuckles into an open hand. “I’m thinking I might have left the job half-finished now.”

  “Well, you were in a rush,” Beirly mock-consoled him. “Wanting to get her to a safe place first, and all. It’s fine, we’ll go settle it properly a bit later.”