Deepwoods (Book 1)

by Honor Raconteur

  Siobhan put her sword back into its sheath before spreading her hand carefully away from the weapon. “Quite alright. I’m Siobhan Maley, Guildmaster of Deepwoods. You are?”

  “Knives, Karl of Silent Order.” He gave a brief inclination of the torso to her. “Pleasure. One of these I’ve met before…” he eyed Fei, then Wolf. “But who are ya?”

  “He’s Wolf, a guildmember of Deepwoods,” Rune introduced.

  “Oh, Bloodless. Almost didn’t recognize you with short hair.” The man smiled, or at least his mouth moved in the semblance of a smile, but there was no emotion reflected in his eyes.

  It sent chills going up Siobhan’s spine. Rune had looked at her like that, the first day they’d met. He’d slowly thawed toward her over the past few days and now she could see genuine emotion from him. This man…Knives. He didn’t feel human at all.

  Knives gave Wolf a cautious nod before he took a side-step, head slanting as he studied Rune’s shoulder more carefully. The former assassin hadn’t put on a shirt this morning either, content to wear his sleeveless vest. (Perhaps they were just that used to the cold?) Knives jerked a chin to indicate the bandage. “What, ya had the tattoo removed?”

  Rune just stared back at him, not saying anything.

  “Well, well.” Knives stroked his chin idly. “I did say, if ya didn’t kill the old man in the village, ya could leave the guild for all I cared. Didn’t think ya’d do it, though.”

  Siobhan didn’t like where this was going and stepped in, trying to head things off. “Karl, if you wouldn’t mind? I have someone waiting on us, you see.”

  “Oh?” His black eyes were flint hard but he nodded amiably. “Sure, sure. Ya note said, ya want to know who it was that attacked a party coming toward the city? About a week ago?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Hmm, well, I looked into it a bit. There was two jobs then, and we took on both. One of them was a caravan comin’ from Teherani.”

  She shook her head, indicating that wasn’t the one.

  His eyes narrowed slightly. “The other was comin’ from Robarge. That one had an odd request to it, it did. We was to rough people up, bad, but not kill.”

  Siobhan clenched her hand into a fist so tight her nails bit into her skin. So, she’d been right in that regard. “Can you tell me who requested the job?”

  “Well, now, it’s bad business to talk about clients, ya know.”

  Rune stepped in closer, body tense as if ready to explode into action at the barest hint of danger. “Knives. Lives depend on her knowi’n.”

  The two men locked gazes for a long moment. The air became stifling, hard to breathe, under the tension.

  “I wasn’t really sure it was ya, back when I got the message.” Knives cocked his head in a gesture of curiosity that seemed, for once, to be a genuine feeling. “It’s more than odd to see ya here like this, and bein’ protective of someone else. It looks like ya switched to another guild, Bloodless. Why?”

  “She gave me a name,” he answered with quiet simplicity.

  “Did she now.” Knives eyed Siobhan from head to toe and back again. “Well now. That’s interestin’.”

  “A name, Knives,” Rune pressed.

  “Can’t give ya one.” Knives shrugged, uncaring. “Don’t remember it. But it was a guild from Coravine, that I remember.”

  Coravine? She blinked. “Coravine, Orin?”

  “That’s the place.”

  “Ì fregn soemd. Ella jarn eiga hqfdi,” Wolf rumbled in a low voice.

  Siobhan’s Wynngaardal was limited to, “Hello”, “Thank you,” and “How much is this?” Anything after that went quickly over her head. But even she could hear the unspoken warning in his tone.

  Knives held up both hands in a placating gesture. “De soemd lan risna.”

  Oh? That phrase she recognized. Or at least the word soemd. So he was answering in all honor, eh? She looked first at Rune, then at Wolf, but both men seemed to believe the karl. Phew. “I thank you for the information,” she responded politely. “Rune mentioned to me that you have a fee for this information?”

  “Rune?” he repeated before his eyes darted to the young assassin. “Ah, ya new name? I see. The fee is twenty kors.”

  She couldn’t quite conceal a wince. That was half the purse Blackstone had given them! But it was her fault for not asking a price and bargaining before spitting out questions. Mentally kicking herself, she pulled her purse out of an inner coat pocket and started counting it out. Halfway through, she paused as a thought struck her. “What if I gave you information in return? Information that might save your life.”

  Knives held his ground. “It’d have to be good, lady Guildmaster.”

  “It is. Do you know who you attacked on the highway?”

  He weighed her question for a taut moment before slowly shaking his head. “A group of sixteen from Robarge was all we was told.”

  “It was an escort, actually, for Lirah Darrens.” When he gave her a blank look, she elaborated. “The daughter of Blackstone’s guildmaster.”

  The blood just drained from Knives’ face. Attacking caravans or old village leaders, that he could do without a qualm. But attacking a large guild was a serious taboo. After all, a guild that influential and powerful could track down any dark guild and raze it to the ground without breaking a sweat. Worse, any good guild of the city would help them do so, because they didn’t want a dark guild in their territory to begin with. “…Daughter?” he repeated faintly.

  Siobhan gave him a sweet, sympathetic smile. “How about this as a fee? I won’t say ‘Silent Order attacked your daughter and subordinates’ to Guildmaster Darrens. I’ll just leave it as ‘a dark guild of Sateren.’ I’ll also make sure to tell him it was a guild from Orin that hired you without telling you any specifics.”

  Knives gave a jerky nod. “Pl—ahem. Please do.” With a bow to her—an actual bow this time—he spun on his heel and disappeared, no doubt heading straight for his own guildmaster to report this conversation. At least, if he had any wits, that’s where he should be heading.

  Siobhan saw Rune give her a strange look and she quirked a brow at him. “Yes?”

  “I get it now. Why they made ya the guildmaster.” A smirk broke out over his face. “Ya can be scary when ya have a mind ta.”

  Wolf snorted. “Kiō, you have no idea. Alright, let’s go. This information needs to get back to Lirah, and quick.”

  As they traveled back to Vakkiod via path, Siobhan’s head swam with information and questions. What was the endgame? She turned it over and over again in her mind, occasionally shaking it at different angles, but it still didn’t add up.

  Iron Dragain attacking Lirah’s group hadn’t made any sense to her. Granted, Siobhan hadn’t a good culprit in mind, as attacking the party didn’t have any rhyme or reason to it that she could see. But a guild from Orin hadn’t even registered as a possibility.

  Why would a guild from Orin even care what two guilds on different continents were planning?

  She had thought that if she just knew who attacked Lirah, then all of the pieces would fall together. So why did she feel that she had simply exchanged one set of questions for another?

  As soon as she had her feet back on Vakkiod soil, she went straight to her temporary house, calling, “Sylvie!”

  Markl appeared in the doorway. “She’s not here. She’s speaking with Lirah.”

  Perfect. Siobhan reversed directions and went toward Lirah’s. She could hear Markl jog to catch up.

  “Wait, what did you find out?”

  She shot him a quick glance over her shoulder. “I want to only say it once.”

  She found both women sitting outside, heads close together as they conversed quietly. At her approach, they stopped and looked up.

  “Siobhan, what did he say?’ Lirah asked, half-dreading the answer.

  “You’re not going to believe this.” She wasn’t sure if she fully believed it, although she didn’t doubt the verac
ity of the facts. With hands braced on both hips, she said plainly, “A guild from Coravine, Orin ordered the attack.”

  She was met with stunned silence.

  Heaving a long sigh, she admitted, “That’s how I feel about it.”

  “Who?” Lirah demanded, rising to her feet in a sharp movement.

  “That’s as much as I know.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s as much as I know,” she repeated. “Sylvie, I’m waiting for you to make sense of this.”

  The woman gave a helpless shrug. “I’ve got nothing.”

  Siobhan grumbled, “Wrong answer. Lirah? What were you sent to do exactly? I can’t imagine that assassins would be sent after you over a simple trade agreement.”

  “There’s nothing simple about it,” Lirah admitted. “In fact, trade negotiations are to be between Iron Dragain, Blackstone, and Silver Moon.”

  “My father’s involved in this?” Markl demanded incredulously.

  Lirah’s eyes cut to him. “Oh? Then you are from the Hammons? Yes, he was invited to the talks some weeks ago. I understand that Guildmaster Hammon himself is coming.”

  “You didn’t know?” Wolf asked.

  “I haven’t had any contact with my family in two months at least,” Markl explained. He looked disturbed. “I had no idea of any of this. What are the odds that he’s already arrived?”

  “Quite good,” Lirah assured him. “I was actually delayed in leaving.”

  Would that matter? Siobhan couldn’t help but wonder. Silent Order lived in Sateren. They could just keep watchers on the city’s walls and attack when their target was within range. It reminded her of an unwary fly entering a spider’s web.

  Of course, Lirah didn’t know the attackers came from Sateren. Siobhan couldn’t explain, either, considering the promise she had made.

  Well, best not to borrow trouble. Markl’s father could well have made it safely to the city without mishap. If she had only known he was mixed in with this, she could have asked Knives. Tch. Why did she always realize after the fact what she should have done?

  “Lirah, I’ve a mind to move to Sateren today, if your men are able.” Seeing her about to protest, she cut in firmly, “Right now, no one but enemies knows you’re alive. So either Iron Dragain thinks Silver Moon has done you in somehow, or Silver Moon suspects Iron Dragain. Either way, it’s not a good situation and we best not let it stew.”

  “Well, I agree with you, but they’re not up to a three hour ride in a wagon.” She bit her lip in agitation. “Although I suppose I could go alone, leave them here to recuperate and follow later.”

  The Ahbiren would have a fit if he heard that idea.

  “What about a trip by path?” Grae pressed. “I finished one yesterday.”

  From within the depths of the house came a deep, gravelly voice, “Miss Lirah, we have the strength for that.”

  Lirah glanced back, visibly hesitant.

  Wolf, seeing that, ruthlessly added more pressure. “The guild that attacked you was ordered not to kill you, to just rough you up. But the situation has changed.”

  “The true mastermind behind the attack is basically known, so the original plan of framing someone has failed,” Lirah finished heavily, shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world rested there. “It’s only a matter of time before our nameless enemy realizes this and switches to a new plan, which might not leave us with our lives. That’s what you mean, isn’t it?”

  Siobhan could only nod grimly. “We have a small window to get under cover. Iron Dragain is our nearest refuge.”

  “Miss Lirah,” a female voice from within the house called weakly, “we must go.”

  Lirah looked off blankly into the distance for some time. With one hand raised in surrender, she capitulated. “Siobhan, send word ahead. Have Iron Dragain guard us as we go into the city.”

  Not a bad thought, that one. “Will do. Rune, Grae, let’s go back.”

  Wolf made a noise of protest.

  “Yes, yes, you can come too.” Wolf still didn’t trust Rune out of his sight, eh? Or maybe it was the idea of her going into a city with known assassins lurking in the shadows that made him paranoid.

  Either way, they all were a little safer in larger groups.

  They made the return trip by path and were back in Sateren within minutes. This time, Siobhan tried to mentally rehearse what to say, how to approach explaining all of this to where it would make sense and not take a lot of time. She didn’t pay strict attention to where they were going, trusting Rune to lead her there safely.

  At least, she didn’t pay attention until they ran smack into a tall, imposing gate of black iron that barred their path.

  Two tall, very daunting men in black uniform stepped forward, hands on sword hilts, and demanded in near unison, “What business do you have here?”

  Siobhan stepped around Rune to answer, “I am Siobhan Maley, Guildmaster of Deepwoods and spokeswoman for Lirah Darrens of Blackstone. I must speak with your guildmaster. NOW.”

  The guard on her left looked confused by this rattling of names, but the one on the right clearly recognized enough to understand the urgency. His eyes widened and he nodded once before spinning around sharply, calling to the guards on the other side of the gate, “Open the gate! Let them through!”

  As the tall gate slowly swung open, Siobhan’s eyes caught the crest wrought in the middle. She recognized the dagger with the dragon twined around it very well. Oh. Rune had taken her directly to Iron Dragain’s main compound? Well, that was the best option, she supposed.

  The guards let her through, one pair splitting off and escorting them across the compound. Siobhan took in the place with glances as she tried to match the quick pace the guards had set. Like every other section of this city, the compound didn’t have any spare space. Buildings were crowded against each other, so tightly that a person could barely squeeze in between. Most of them were built of the same grey stone, the roofs black and sloping along the edges before rising to a sharp peak. The whole place reeked of intimidation, which she rather expected out of a Wynngaardian guild.

  Also in accordance with Sateren tradition, the paths leading in and around the buildings had more curves and switchbacks than the wrinkles on an old woman’s face. Siobhan’s sense of direction got lost after the third turn, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that it would take a guide to get her back to the main gate again.

  Oh? This building looked different. And by different, she meant larger. Instead of a small building crowded in, this one sprawled in every direction, rising a full two stories, with a smaller version of an iron gate around it. Guards also stood here, forcing her to repeat herself nearly verbatim. This time, they didn’t immediately let her through but called for someone to come.

  It took a few minutes, but eventually a middle-aged man with a dignified bearing and slight limp came down the short staircase and to the gate. Siobhan judged him to be the majordomo just from his attitude alone. Well, the prominent crest on his coat and the high quality of his clothes influenced that snap judgment too.

  “I am told that a Guildmaster of Deepwoods seeks audience with Guildmaster Jarnsmor,” he said in perfectly flawless Robargean.

  “I do.” She took a step forward. “I am Siobhan Maley of Deepwoods. I carry a message on behalf of Lirah Darrens of Blackstone.”

  His brows twitched together either in a gesture of disbelief or interest, she couldn’t quite tell which. “Forgive me, but do you have identification on you?”

  She pulled out the Deepwoods seal from a pocket and flipped the leather flap open so he could see it.

  He verified it with a brief, but thorough scrutiny. “But you say Lirah Darrens? We expected her some time ago but have not seen anyone from Blackstone.”

  “She was ambushed before she could arrive,” Siobhan informed him grimly. “Within sight of your city gates, no less.”

  He blanched at this. “You jest…no, I can see from your expression you do not. She i
s well?”

  “I wish I could say so, but no. Most of her party is heavily injured. Sir, I must speak with your guildmaster as quickly as possible. Lives are at stake here.”

  “Nortin is my name, Guildmaster Maley. I will take you to him.” He nodded to the guards, who quickly unlocked the gates and ushered them through.

  Nortin, for a man that had an obvious bad leg, could move like lightning. Siobhan had to once again lengthen her stride in order to keep up. He pushed through the main door and inside of the building without pause, leading them from strong daylight into much dimmer lighting. Siobhan had to blink several times to adjust her vision to this cool interior.

  She had the impression of smooth, polished wooden floors and white stucco walls before Nortin took a sharp left, into a room that branched off the main hallway. Siobhan followed him in only to stop abruptly at the doorway. When Nortin said he would take her to his guildmaster, he hadn’t been kidding. This had to be the man’s personal study. There were floor to ceiling bookshelves dominating one wall, a massive desk that sat squarely in the middle of the room, and a small gathering of wooden stools around an oblong table that took up the other half of the room. The table had been completely overtaken in paper and maps, with a slightly older man leaning over the surface. He looked up at their entrance, dark brows drawn together in a frown of confusion.

  “Nortin? Who’s this?”

  “Guildmaster Siobhan Maley of Deepwoods, Master Jarnsmor. She comes to speak with you as Lirah Darren’s Voice.”

  Oh, was that the proper way to say it? Siobhan mentally noted that even as she took in Jarnsmor with frank appraisal. So this was the most powerful man of northern Wynngaard, eh? He certainly looked the part. His pepper-grey hair spoke of age, as did the harsh lines around his eyes and mouth, but there was nothing weak about the rest of him. His black eyes were sharp, shoulders broad, and his clothes did nothing to hide the powerful muscles of his arms and thighs. If someone told Siobhan that this man was capable of splitting boulders with brute strength alone, she would believe it.