Blackstone (Book 2)

by Honor Raconteur

“She’s caught one of those finger monkeys,” Denney explained in exasperation, stomping toward them. “And she won’t let go of it. I don’t think she’s actually hurting the poor thing, but it’s still not something you should be carting around in your mouth! Who knows what kind of diseases those things carry.”

  Wolf had seen this same dog lick and eat things that no other animal would be insane enough to try, and the dog had always lived through it. He was less worried about diseases and more worried with the fact that he had an eighty pound dog on his stomach that seemed content to stay there. Keeping his grip firm on her neck, he pulled her off and to the floor, where Denney promptly took advantage of the dog’s caged position and forced her mouth open with both hands.

  The poor finger monkey, now dripping wet with dog slobber, promptly escaped and sprinted across the floor with all due speed straight for the nearest window. Of course, in doing so it took the most direct route it could—across everyone else in its way.

  People flailed as something wet and slimy flew across their faces, making some interesting noises as they jerked awake. Wolf enjoyed the show with a boisterous laugh. Getting pounced on by a dog as a wakeup call wasn’t a nice experience, but surely getting slimed with dog slobber was worse.

  Markl was the first to wake up enough to get his mouth working. As he wiped dog drool from his cheek, he demanded, “What was that?”

  “Finger monkey covered in dog spit.”

  Their resident scholar put two and two together quickly and glared at Pyper. As did most of the room. Rune, who had been sleeping upright in the corner of the room (and thereby out of the path of the monkey) found this funny and chuckled.

  Denney turned to him and said plaintively, “I think Pete caught one too. Help me catch him.”

  “Sure, sure,” Rune agreed easily. But then, he was one of the few fast enough to catch the dogs. Amiably, he got up and followed her, Denney scolding the dog as she dragged the collier out.

  “Well this was a fine start to the morning,” Beirly grumbled, still trying to wipe all the drool off his face.

  “Right entertaining,” Wolf agreed.

  For some reason, this got him glared at by every man in the room.

  Not bothered by it, he grinned and rolled to his feet, kicking the covers free. “Alright, let’s move. We need to learn how to beat up Saoleords today.”

  ӜӜӜ

  Saoleord was dizzying and confusing. No one had road signs up here—there was no need. They were born here, learned the roads growing up, and never left. Siobhan found it impossible to navigate and often just grabbed any child passing by her, paying them to be her guide. The kids found that leading these strange adults around was easy money, and soon they were swamped by the ankle-biters.

  After breakfast was when she tended to lose people. Well, mostly. She knew where some of them were going. Fei, Rune, Wolf, and Tran would predictably head straight for the training field in the middle of the city. They seemed to be having a grand time learning how to kill each other. At least, judging from those wild smiles and new bruises they came back with at the end of every day, they were enjoying it.

  Siobhan was formally invited by Hyun Woo to sit and watch a mock battle. She was very curious what her enforcers had been learning from the man for the past week, so accepted the offer, which led to her sitting on the hill while the men ‘fought’ on the flatter land below them. This area was designated as a training ground, so no one went near it unless they were fighting or observing. A few women and older men were scattered about on the same hillside, some of them cheering the fighters on, others critiquing. Sylvie and Denney, equally curious, had decided to join her. The day was a fair one, the grass comfortable to sit on, so they lounged in a shady spot and watched the battle below them unfold.

  “Are we absolutely sure that they aren’t trying to kill each other?” Siobhan asked, almost rhetorically.

  “I wouldn’t swear to it,” Sylvie responded in amusement, lounging back against the grassy hillside.

  Being no stranger to skirmishes, Siobhan thought she knew what fighting was like, but this wasn’t anything like she had seen before. No one moved individually, but in units. The units were always at least ten men strong, and they coordinated their attacks, never leaving each other’s backs unguarded. From what she could see, there seemed to be some coordination between the units, as some would advance forward, others moving to flank either right or left, and others still that would hang back until the front units were fighting before engaging. They all supposedly had headbands of different colors on, clearly dividing them into two armies, but from this distance she couldn’t really tell who was who. Her own people were easy to spot simply because they looked so different from everyone else, but other than that it was anyone’s guess on which army was winning.

  From this distance, though, and with the amount of war cries going on, it certainly looked like a real battle instead of a mock one.

  Denney, sitting on her other side, sat up enough to scratch behind Pyper’s ears. “They do this once a month? Wouldn’t it get old after a while?”

  “Do Wolf and Tran get tired of fighting each other?” Sylvie countered dryly.

  “Point,” Denney conceded, snorting amusement. “Why do men never tire of fighting each other?”

  “It’s like having multiple bandy roosters in the same hen yard, I swear.” Siobhan shook her head in resignation. “Well, at least this time it’s constructive fighting, as they’re learning something in the process.”

  “Let’s hope they don’t need to use it,” Sylvie said quietly.

  Truly. Siobhan prayed for that on a daily basis. Siobhan’s eyes cut sideways to study Sylvie’s expression. After their little talk the other day, she’d noticed that the distance between her and Markl had all but vanished. With a house full of people and guests popping in and out, she hadn’t had enough quiet to ask for details yet though. Actually…none of the men were around now, and they had time on their hands. Perhaps this would be a good point to ask.

  “So, how did Markl get dragged into this?”

  “They said the magic word. Learn.” Sylvie shrugged, eyes twinkling. “Next thing I know, he’s strapping on leather armor.”

  Denney must have caught the nuance behind this, as she leaned even further forward so that she could see Sylvie. “So you and Markl are…?”

  The most smug, feminine expression crossed Sylvie’s face. “Officially courting.”

  A wash of relief went through Siobhan and she couldn’t help it. She clapped. “Congratulations!”

  Denney joined in on the clapping, to which Sylvie gave them a truncated bow from her seated position. “Thank you, thank you, or I would thank you if I didn’t know you had bets riding on this.”

  “We bet on everything in this guild, don’t take it to heart,” Denney advised.

  Very true. Siobhan couldn’t think of a single thing that people wouldn’t bet on in Deepwoods.

  “Is that right?” Sylvie arched a challenging brow at her. “In that case, I’m going to bet on when you and Rune get together.”

  Denney choked, cheeks flushing.

  Siobhan watched this reaction with acute interest. Oh? She’d thought that Conli’s grumbling about the two of them getting closer was just that—overprotective complaints. She hadn’t seen anything that would give any weight to his suspicions. Until now, that was.

  “Ah, Denney? Are you really crushing on Rune?”

  Denney started twirling a lock of hair in her fingers and steadfastly refused to look up. If staring at the grass made it easier to talk to them, that was fine with Siobhan. “I don’t really know?” she trailed off, uncertainly. Glancing up, and getting nothing but encouraging nods, she continued, “I think he’s amazing, and he’s one of the people I count on when something happens, and it’s easy being in his company. I mean, he never really demands anything from me, or expects anything, which is why I like being with him. But I’m not sure if that really counts as ‘liking’ s
omeone.”

  To Siobhan’s mind, that fit the description perfectly. In normal circumstances, she’d encourage Denney to pursue the relationship, but there were too many things that Rune just didn’t get yet. Trying to maneuver him into a romantic connection right now might turn out disastrously, which would cause tension in the guild, and Siobhan despised tension of any sort.

  Sylvie caught Siobhan’s eyes and the two exchanged a knowing look. Clearly, the other woman had the same opinion.

  “Don’t rush this, whatever it might be,” Sylvie advised the younger woman. “For one thing, Rune’s just now found his footing in the guild. I think it’s best if the two of you just naturally let your relationship develop whichever way it will rather than trying to force it in a certain direction.”

  “Wise counsel,” Siobhan added, backing this up.

  Denney nodded, humming a nonverbal agreement that didn’t actually sound like an agreement.

  Siobhan leaned over to knock her shoulder gently into the other woman’s. “What.”

  “It’s just…” Denney paused, chewing on her bottom lip in frustration. “Rune won’t let other men near me. Not ones we don’t know. It doesn’t matter if they’re friendly, or trying to speak to me about business, or what. They’re only allowed so close and then he makes them back up.”

  Siobhan blinked. He was? She’d never seen him do that.

  “If this were any normal guy, I would think he’s jealous and take it as a sign of interest.” Denney’s lock twirling became hair tugging. “But from the get-go, you’ve told him to be protective of me, and the closer that we’ve become, the more protective he gets because I actually mean something to him now. I don’t know how to take this.”

  Neither did she.

  A cheer went up from the other spectators on the hillside, abruptly reminding Siobhan of where they were and what she was supposed to be doing. Belatedly, she looked toward the training field below and discovered that the white army had won, the red defeated. There seemed to be some good natured bickering among the combatants about who owed drinks or dinner, the words carried to her on the wind in bits and snatches.

  Her enforcers had been on the white team, so…they’d won? It was a shame she hadn’t been able to figure out what they were doing and why, but she was glad to see that they’d learned enough in the past week to win. Of course, they’d also been on Hyun Woo’s ‘team’ as it were, so that could be the reason alone.

  Standing, she brushed strands of grass off her backside. “It looks like we won.”

  “Sure does,” Sylvie agreed, also standing.

  Siobhan offered Denney a hand up, which the girl took, although she had to push the dogs off her lap first before she could stand. “Denney, I’ll try to find a moment to talk to Rune about this. It might be he’s just overprotective. He does that with me sometimes, when it’s just the two of us. Keeping us from harm is the most comfortable way he has of showing how much he cares for us. It’s the thing he knows how to do the best. It could very well be just that. On the other hand, it could be more, too.”

  “It’s confusing,” Denney grumbled. “But if you can talk to him about it, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Sure, sure.” Siobhan made a mental note to do that, at some point when she had Rune alone. Or relatively alone. “Well, for now, let’s join in the after celebration. Our men will probably want to relive the whole thing blow by blow for us.”

  “They always do,” Sylvie said in resignation.

  ӜӜӜ

  Stretching her arms above her head, Siobhan tried to get the knots out of her back after sitting on the floor for three hours. She didn’t have a lot of experience with sitting through meetings but this one had seemed to drag more than normal. Her legs had gone numb from sitting there on the floor and the cushion had gradually grown thinner with every minute she sat on it. It was a relief to escape.

  Siobhan was interested in sightseeing, now that she was free to do so, but didn’t wish to do so alone. The question was, who would be available to go with her? She didn’t for one second believe that any of her guild had just sat around their lodgings waiting on her for the past three hours. No, they all had found something to get into by now, surely. The trick would be finding them.

  Determined, she set off.

  Wandering from street to street, she just took in the sights and kept her ears open, hoping to catch sound of a familiar voice. This was easier than usual as only her people would be speaking in Robargese. Everyone else here naturally used their native tongue when conversing.

  The first person she found was Sylvie, who was in full trader mode. She could recognize that look in just a glance. Sylvie stood in front of a table that had a mound of fabric on it, hands akimbo on her hips, torso leaning forward. She had that quirk to her mouth that suggested she was haggling just for the enjoyment of it. Seeing the bags at her feet (both of them filled to bursting) Siobhan guessed that her trader was in the process of finding goods to bring back home with them.

  She was not foolish enough to interfere with Sylvie in that mood. No, better to keep looking. Turning, she went left instead and wandered into an area that looked strangely familiar. She’d been here before, in the past few days. But why…in a flash it struck her. Of course, the martial field was near here. She, Sylvie, and Denney had come here to watch the boys do that mock battle. Maybe some of her men were over here today as well?

  With more perk in her step, she went to the road she half-remembered taking before and followed it down to the field. Yes, there they were. She could see Wolf’s blond hair glistening amongst all of those dark brunettes. They were all gathered together near the side of the field, their backs to her, and for a moment she couldn’t see anything about what they were doing.

  Then a few men shifted directions, creating a gap, and she had a direct line of vision.

  Siobhan had seen Wolf and Tran do many stupid and strange things in the years that she had known them, but this…this ranked in the top ten.

  Standing in a circle were about a dozen men, all of them intensely interested in the display that her enforcers were doing. Braced on top of a pile of blocks were thick stretches of wood, several boards stacked together. As she watched, Tran squared himself off to one stack. Rearing his head back, he let out a roar of effort before throwing his entire body weight forward, forehead slamming directly into the stack of boards. With a crack, the boards snapped in half under the force of it, splintering and falling to the ground.

  There was a chorus of male approval from the group. Siobhan could admit that breaking seven, eight boards like that all at once was impressive. It was using the head that she was puzzled by. Too curious to let it go, she pushed her way through the ring. “Tran?”

  He looked up and around, finding her in the crowd, and gave her a brilliant smile. “Did you see?”

  “I did,” she acknowledged, not able to keep a baffled expression off her face. “Is this some sort of competition?”

  “They do breaking contests here,” Tran explained.

  “Although they usually do it with their hands and feet,” Wolf added.

  That did seem the more sensible approach. “So how did it become head-breaking instead?”

  Wolf and Tran exchanged glances and, for once, seemed perfectly in tune with each other. “It was too easy,” Wolf said.

  “Right,” Tran agreed.

  Well, if you ask a stupid question, you do get a stupid answer. Shaking her head, she wrote off all possibility of sightseeing with them and waved them back to their positions. “Carry on.”

  They happily did so, already betting that the other person couldn’t break ten boards. The crowds of men were egging them on, some even finding boards to stack up.

  As she walked away, Siobhan said aloud, “I will never understand men. Never.” Especially those two. On the plus side, at least they were getting along with everyone and had found a safe outlet for their destructive urges. She wouldn’t have to worry about paying restitution f
ees here.

  Humming to herself, she went back to the main road and tried to decide which way to go. People were going about their daily business, giving her polite bows of greeting as they passed her. She bowed back, smiling and exchanging waves of hello to the few children she’d hired on earlier. None of them stopped to talk though. Siobhan had found after the first day she was here that not everyone was fluent in different languages. Only the scholars really kept track of the different dialects of the world. The common man in Saoleord spoke his native tongue—and that was it. They probably were nervous trying to strike up a conversation with her.

  Or maybe it was a cultural thing, and stopping to speak with a complete stranger was just unheard of.

  Either way, it didn’t bother her. Shrugging, she decided to head north along the main road and see what she could.

  Several hundred paces down, she heard a familiar voice chuckling. Beirly? She followed her ears and went off the beaten path into a corner…smithy, it looked like. Sticking her head around the corner, she found Beirly in front of a table, a drafting pencil in one hand and a large stretch of paper in front of him. Two men were leaning in close from either side and she didn’t recognize either of them.

  Glancing up, he spotted her in the doorway and greeted, “Siobhan. Done with the meeting?”

  “For the rest of the day, at least.” She drifted closer to the table and saw a very familiar design sketched out. “Wolf’s hand?”

  The man to Beirly’s right said with careful pronunciation, “His hand new to us. Well crafted. We wish to make likeness.”

  Siobhan found his speech odd but perfectly understandable, so she gave him a nod and smile. “Yes, many people find his hand unique. They often ask Beirly how it’s designed. You know of people that need iron limbs?”

  “Yes,” he said simply.

  “In turn, they’re teaching me a metal forging technique that blends different ores together,” Beirly informed her. He looked like a giddy child with a new toy while saying this. “Their swords are amazingly tough and slim here. I studied Fei’s many times but could never quite figure out how it was forged. Now I know.”