Blackwood Marauders

by K. S. Villoso

  Roena swallowed. “How much did you get, exactly?”

  Luc held out a bag, which bulged as the beetles crawled inside. “We spent all of yesterday and this morning trying to find enough. Not easy if there’s no infestation, but…I’m glad I wasted many a day getting these for me and Alun. We used to fight them.”

  “This better work.” She stuffed the beetle in her pocket. It tried to crawl out, and she pushed it back in.

  He grinned. “Just keep the inspector busy.”

  She gave him a curtsy before sprinting back to where the inspector was examining the logs before they went through the saws. “So tell me what happens next,” she said, tucking her hair over her ear in a faint attempt to look like an ignorant girl. “Will you have to look through every batch?”

  “Goodness, no,” the inspector said with a chuckle. “These should be enough. I’ll make a trip to Cape Beeching once this batch has cured to make a final inspection, and then we just rely on occasional reports from the builders who happen to get the final products. Your father has nothing to worry about, Lady Roena.”

  She nodded, pretending to absorb every word. “There is one thing, and I’m a little frightened to mention it if it turns out not to be a problem at all. I don’t want to cause more trouble for my father than I already do.”

  The inspector blinked. “My lady, I’m not here to find fault with this operation. Please, don’t think you can’t come to me with your concerns.”

  She grimaced before pulling out the beetle. “I saw this on one of the logs earlier.”

  The man’s eyes widened. “I do believe that’s a pine beetle,” he said, after a moment of hesitation. He reached out to take the insect from her and placed it on the back of his hand.

  “Is it?” Roena asked. “I thought so, too. I picked it up and have been meaning to hide it from you, but I realized that perhaps that isn’t wise. If this lumber turns out to have issues, it’ll be my father’s name on the line, wouldn’t it? His reputation will be ruined.”

  “Indeed, my lady,” the inspector said. “Nevertheless, we shall see. From the outside, it didn’t look like the trees were infected—the leaves seemed fair and green from what I saw. It’s possible this came from the local fauna…perhaps one of the sickly groves I saw on my way here…”

  He walked towards the sawn logs. Roena followed behind him.

  “Agartes!” one of the workers cried out.

  The inspector’s face turned pale at the sight of the black beetles on the lumber pile, so many that just looking at them was enough to make her skin crawl.

  “This is…it’s impossible,” the inspector murmured.

  “I don’t—is it bad?”

  “My lady, we can’t…this entire batch…” He dabbed his face nervously again.

  “I have to tell my father,” Roena said.

  “No,” the inspector replied. “Please. I have to make a report.”

  “But this is serious. Won’t it affect his deal with Duke Rohn?”

  “I don’t know,” the inspector repeated. Roena had never seen a man look more frightened in her life.

  ~~~

  “That was almost too easy,” Roena said as they skipped along the road leading away from the river. “Did Ylir really think he was better at tricks than me? That son of a bitch.”

  “We still have to get Lady Isobel to call the others off,” Luc replied, watching her with a measure of concern. Did she know how much her eyes blazed with anger when she talked about that other man?

  “She’ll have to once the inspector gives his report,” Roena sniffed. “I’d love to tell Ylir myself. The look on his face when he realizes this whole sham was unnecessary from the beginning—I’d give anything in the world to see that. The man isn’t half as intelligent as he thinks he is. Why kill my father just for this? The king would have to open up an investigation, and they’ll trace the lines back to his company no matter how much he tries to hide it. If what he wants is to never operate in Hafod again…”

  “Roena—”

  “What?”

  He fell silent, wondering if there was any sense in bringing up how angry she sounded every time the other man’s name came up. Probably not. It was nearly dark by the time they arrived at Lady Isobel’s lodgings. The door was open and a woman was laying out bedsheets on the railing to air them out.

  “You looking for the lady?” the woman asked. “Tough luck. She went and left this morning.”

  “This morning?” Luc repeated. “It can’t be. She told me she was staying until…” He glanced at Roena. “Until the job was over.” He drew her aside. “We still had one more day. I don’t understand.”

  The innkeeper sniffed. “If you really want to talk to her, my man told me he saw her and her soldiers heading up to the castle. Duke Iorwin’s holding a feast of some sort.”

  “Rohn Beeching hasn’t arrived yet,” Roena broke in.

  The woman shrugged. “Wouldn’t know anything about it. How about you go up and talk to her? I’m sure she’d still be there. I was told her horses are still at the city stables.”

  “Why wouldn’t she bring her horses to the castle?” Treda asked as they left the street.

  “Easy escape in case something goes wrong,” Roena murmured. “They’re striking tonight.”

  “She lied to me,” Luc said.

  Roena didn’t even look surprised. “Obviously.”

  “What happens now?” Hana asked. “We can’t go up to the castle with just the four of us. If the others are dead-set on killing Duke Iorwin, they won’t let us get in the way.”

  “What happens is that my father dies,” Roena murmured.

  Luc turned to her. “We can’t allow that.”

  “We were here a few days ago, weren’t we?” she snapped. “Did running back to your farm help your father? We couldn’t even get there fast enough, and if we had, do you think you could’ve stopped Jona?”

  Her words made his insides knot. “We could still try.”

  She laughed. “I don’t want to. I’m not going there just to see my father…just to see him…” She drew a deep breath and fell silent, her eyes on the sky.

  “Couldn’t we tell the guards?” Treda asked. “Surely they’ll believe you.”

  “They won’t,” Roena snorted. “I know that much.”

  They were silent for a while as they made their way across the bridge. Luc could feel Roena struggling to maintain her composure. It was admirable how she could do that—no tears in her eyes, though he could imagine the thought of her father’s impending death was like a looming shadow. His own father’s passing still had that hollow of impermanence about it—a part of him remain convinced that Jak would be waiting for him as soon as he decided to come home. Every time his memories reminded him that this could never be, he could feel his soul getting dragged deeper into the mire.

  He couldn’t let that happen to her. He found herself reaching for her hand. She turned to him in shock. “I’ve got a plan,” he said.

  She pulled away immediately. “I don’t know, Luc.”

  “You said yourself Ylir isn’t as intelligent as he thinks. So we’ll prove it. Roena, you should know your castle from top to bottom. You’ll be able to get us in, won’t you? You’ve gotten yourself out plenty of times.”

  “I don’t know how much help that’ll be,” Roena breathed. “Once we’re in, then what? He’ll laugh off anything I have to say. If you try to do it he’ll throw you in the dungeons, and that’s if Jona doesn’t get to you first.”

  “We’re not going to your father,” Luc said. “We’re going to see Lord Draigar.”

  For once, Roena fell silent.

  ~~~

  It was surprising to see Luc aim for a target right between the eyes. She hadn’t thought of Draigar in weeks. Had tried not to think about him. From his point of view, she would’ve been gone for months. In light of everything that had happened since, their little domestic dilemma seemed almost inconsequential.

  An
d yet it had happened, and she was still betrothed to him. Luc didn’t even know. He had assumed that she was disgraced or somesuch nonsense. But learning that she had tried to plant false evidence of his alleged wrongdoings hadn’t changed Draigar’s attitude towards her.

  Oh, he had been angry. She could still remember his eyes when he came up to her chambers with the letter in his hand—could see the red in them, the disappointment. She didn’t realize how much he had liked the idea of marrying her. In retrospect, he would’ve. He worshipped her father. Her decision to choose him for a husband must’ve felt like a boon. He knew her, knew exactly what she was doing. She had figured he went along with it because he didn’t have it in his heart to deny Duke Iorwin.

  “My lady,” he had said, voice shaking. “Please tell me the truth of this.” To have reduced a man—a warrior to his soldiers, if the stories they say about him could be true—to near-tears was new to Roena. She had been with men who wouldn’t have cared, who would jump at the chance to use her with the same keen-eyed cunning that she would use them. Her first time had been with a soldier who promised to take her away, and then quite conveniently deposited her back to the castle once she’d been gone long enough and her mother had increased the reward money to an irresistible point.

  “Why are you even surprised, Lord Draigar?” she remembered replying. “Denounce me in front of the court, if you wish. I’ve lied to you. Attempted to ruin you. Engaged in affairs with men behind your back.”

  “Ylir yn Garr,” he said with a straight face. But she could sense the pain behind his words. For a moment, she wondered if he loved her, but she pushed it away quickly. She didn’t know anything about love. The very word filled her with revulsion.

  “Among others. It won’t stop once we marry, you understand. So. I know you are not the sort of man who can easily turn a blind eye to this behaviour. They will talk about you, and I will bring shame—not honour—to your own house. Denounce me, Lord Draigar.”

  He looked horrified at her words. “That’s what you truly want?”

  “If shame and ruin are all I have to keep me alive, then…”

  He came up to her, his whole body shaking. Carefully, he picked up her hands. “My lady,” he murmured. “I would still have you.”

  “Then you are a fool.” She tore her hands from his grasp and walked to her pack, hanging from a hook on the wall. She picked it up and began to gather her travelling clothes.

  Draigar watched her without a flicker of emotion on his face. Only when she had finished did he give a soft sigh. “And so you run off once more. Do you recall how often I’ve brought you back all these years?”

  “Well enough. I’m sure I resent you for them.”

  He shook his head. “We worry for you, Lady Roena. Every time you disappear, we worry. Your mother walks the halls in her bare feet—your servants flock after her in worry, begging her to at least stand in front of the fire if she will not put her shoes on. Your sisters do nothing but ask for news of you. Your father—well, he will never speak of it, but if you have known him as well as I have…”

  “I do, Lord Draigar. The man cares for nothing but himself.”

  “You don’t know the truth of that.”

  “Don’t I? He has you all fooled.”

  “Once or twice you were half-dead when you were brought back to us. You remember the time you fell in the river, and you would’ve drowned if not for the men out fishing that day? My lady, you were cold and pale and we thought you were dead, but your father turned even paler. Until the physician announced you were safe, he looked like a walking ghost.”

  “Do you think dressing up my life changes anything?”

  “My lady—”

  “Say he does love me,” she said. “Does it take away the noose around my neck? Do you not understand what it feels to never know this myself—to have to be convinced of it by everyone all the damn time? The sky is red, Roena. The sky is always red and your father only cares about your well-being. Please, Draigar. If you tire of me acting like a child, perhaps you should stop treating me like one.”

  Draigar watched her pull her sword from under her bed and strap the belt around her waist.

  “When you come back…” he began.

  “I won’t,” she said. “You’d have to chase after me again, club me over the head, and drag me back here.”

  “Very well,” he murmured. He said nothing else. When she walked out of the castle that night, the guards left her alone. It was the easiest escape she had ever done. It was the longest she’d stayed away, too, not even counting the weeks she’d lost in Windroost. They would’ve had to believe that she meant it this time.

  Well, now she was coming back to save her father, something she never thought she’d do. Draigar would think it was an excuse. Her thoughts drifted as she came around the hall to the guest quarters and Draigar’s room. It was unguarded, the door unlocked. There was little cause for suspicion among the Hafed nobility. Even the idea that Lady Isobel would so willingly work with someone to kill Duke Iorwin still didn’t feel quite real. Perhaps things would change, after this. Something would.

  She sat at the edge of the mattress, stared out at the night sky, and waited.

  ~~~

  Getting into the castle had been the easy part. Roena knew the guards’ patrol and the castle servants’ habits like the back of her own hand. Following her lead, they were in the halls before he could really voice out his concerns.

  But now it was up to him to get to Draigar. Roena couldn’t be seen by the guards and the servants—her appearance alone would cause an uproar and they needed to be discreet. Easier said than done. He had heard that Draigar was in the dining hall with Duke Iorwin and his guests, which meant he couldn’t be seen out there, either. All it took was for Tasha and Jona to spot him, and then their plan would be ruined. Who knew when they would strike again?

  He could hear the voices coming through the dining hall as he padded through the adjoining corridor. He recognized Duke Iorwin’s, as well as Ylir yn Garr’s and Lady Isobel’s. Clearly, they weren’t willing to just trust the mercenaries to do the deed themselves. He counted the soldiers guarding every entrance to the dining hall and wondered how they planned to do it. Ten mercenaries wouldn’t last very long in a straight-out fight, not with the equipment they had. These were armoured guards, trained and willing to lay their lives down for their lords. And with Lord Draigar sitting directly beside Duke Iorwin? He doubted anyone would be able to get close.

  He told himself it wasn’t his problem right now. He came up to one of the guards and pulled out a letter. “For Lord Draigar’s eyes only,” he whispered. The guard looked at him suspiciously, but Roena had assured him this sort of thing was common among the nobility. He sniffed the letter before stepping into the dining hall.

  Luc pressed his back against the wall, melting into the shadows. Moments drifted by. He wondered if Draigar even bothered to open the letter. And if he did, did he understand? On behalf of your bastard son, was all Luc had written. Cryptic enough that if Ylir yn Garr had happened to glance at it, he wouldn’t catch on.

  He heard footsteps. Lord Draigar appeared, clearing his throat. But he didn’t look around or talk to the guards. He didn’t even glance at Luc. Instead, he began to walk down the hall towards the staircase. Luc slipped through the shadows to follow him.

  Only when they were alone did Draigar finally speak. “So,” he said. “You’ve become her confidante.”

  “Of sorts,” Luc murmured.

  “I think I know what that means. I don’t want to hear it. What does she want?”

  “Best if she tells you herself.” Treda and Hana appeared. Draigar looked alarmed, but Luc held out his hand. “They’re with me,” he said.

  “You’re mercenaries too, aren’t you?” Draigar asked.

  “We were part of the group you were just talking to.”

  Draigar huffed. “And now you’re not?”

  They entered his chambers. Hana close
d the door just as Roena got up. “My lady,” Draigar breathed. “You look well.”

  She inclined her head towards him. “So do you, my lord.”

  “So. You do know how to exchange pleasantries. What’s this all about?”

  “I won’t mince words. Those mercenaries are here to kill my father.”

  Draigar’s eyes widened.

  “We told you because Roena is convinced her father won’t trust this information coming from her,” Luc added. “You wouldn’t have, either. But I was hoping on the chance that you’d believe me.”

  “You have been truthful in the past,” Draigar said. “Inconvenient as that might have been.” He turned to Roena. “Who wants him dead?”

  “Ylir yn Garr,” Roena replied. “Something to do with the lumber contract he’d signed with Duke Rohn. They’d rather that Beeching dealt with Yn Garr Industries.”

  Draigar bit his lip and was silent for a moment. “If Duke Iorwin dies, Roena becomes Duchess of Blackwood,” he said. “It makes no sense that she would know all of this. You don’t think Ylir yn Garr would’ve tried to keep this knowledge from her?”

  “He wasn’t counting on my presence,” Roena replied.

  Draigar shook his head. “Do you not listen to how that man speaks? Such carelessness seems unlikely. He’s been here for the past few months, striking a friendship with your father and growing closer to him with every passing day…”

  “I detect a hint of jealousy,” Hana broke in.

  Roena laughed. “Is that right, Lord Draigar? Have you been replaced as my father’s pet? The last time I was here, he didn’t like Ylir yn Garr.”

  Draigar shook his head. “Merely concern. I counseled Duke Iorwin against giving his friendship so easily. It’s true that Yn Garr Industries has helped Blackwood out all these years, but we had always accepted their assistance with a layer of…professional mistrust. Now? Now Duke Iorwin stays up late at night drinking with Ylir yn Garr. They even travelled to Tilarthan together at the end of the winter. I was left in charge of the castle.”

  Hana smirked. “I take it back. Maybe Roena should be jealous.”