Blackstone (Book 2)

by Honor Raconteur

  “That depends on how quickly people can work,” he answered grimly. “For now, let’s go see this guildmaster.”

  It was more easily said than done, of course. Siobhan had to go through multiple checkpoints just to get to the Silvermoon compound. Finally, she resorted to using Markl’s name and guild seal to get through the gates. (Thank heavens he had kept his family seal on him and thought to give it to her before leaving.)

  Word must have traveled ahead of her somehow, as Nuel Hammon met her at his office door, worry on his face. “Guildmaster Maley! I’m surprised to see you here.”

  She gave him a short bow of greeting. “Guildmaster Hammon. I bring bad news, I’m afraid.” Having an idea of what his first worry would be, she quickly added, “Markl’s fine. It’s not regarding him.”

  His worry eased a degree although his eyes still went past her shoulders, searching for his son. “Then where is he?”

  “I sent him ahead to Goldschmidt.” Feeling that talking about this in an open hallway was a bad idea, she pushed past him, catching his arm as she moved to encourage him to go back into his office.

  She took a second once inside to orient herself to this new space. Massive desk along one wall, a line of shelves behind it, two couches and a chair in the middle of the room that faced a large window. It spoke of wealth, and comfort, in a tastefully masculine way. On an ordinary day, she would have enjoyed spending time here.

  Hammon stumbled a bit in her wake as she went directly to the couches and encouraged him to sit in one of them. This was not news that one should take standing up.

  Studying her face, he slowly sank into one of the couches, although he sat on the very edge as if ready to spring to his feet at any moment. “What is going on? You look ghastly, as if a ghost haunted your footsteps.”

  “You’re not far off.” Siobhan took a breath and drew upon the courage, from somewhere, to explain the madness she had seen. “Sir. We are on the brink of war.”

  For several seconds her words didn’t make sense to him. It was like she had spoken in a foreign language he had never heard of and the sentence didn’t even compute. “War,” he repeated, as if trying to do high level mathematics with that word alone.

  “There is an army coming from Orin,” she continued, images of the destroyed Channel Pass flashing in front of her eyes with every word spoken. “It’s more of a rabble, a large mob, really. It’s destroying every city in its path and looting it. Then they burn the city to the ground.”

  Hammon forgot how to breathe for a moment, eyes so wide they consumed his face. His mouth moved several times, no sound emerging, before he was able to force out, “How many cities?”

  “Channel Pass I saw with my own eyes. We’re fairly sure Stott has already fallen as well.” Siobhan had to swallow past a tightening throat before she could say, “At this time, I don’t know about Goldschmidt.”

  Hammon rubbed a hand over his face, roughly, as if trying to confirm whether he was awake or dreaming. “How large?”

  “We don’t know. We haven’t seen it, just the traces they’ve left behind. They destroyed two cities within the course of two weeks, that much I can tell you.”

  Hyun Woo stepped around into view before saying gravely, “I’ve calculated how many men it would take to destroy a city, even one unguarded, and the time it takes to travel the distances they have. It is my opinion that they only need two or three days to loot and pillage a city. They’re ruthlessly efficient.”

  Hammon repeated two or three days soundlessly, skin going impossibly pale. A vision of Winziane being destroyed in the same manner flashed across his face. Siobhan shared the same terror of Goldschmidt, so she recognized the expression very well.

  But Hammon was made of tough material. He only needed a few seconds to grasp this terrible news and gather the internal strength to face it. Then he stood, facing Hyun Woo. “I’m Nuell Hammon, Guildmaster of Silvermoon. Who might you be, sir?”

  Hyun Woo put his hands to his side and gave him a formal bow. “Hyun Woo, Master Strategist from Saoleord. I have come with Deepwoods to help you and every other city under attack from this army.”

  “Strategist?” Hammon repeated slowly, as if he recognizing the word from somewhere, but not able to place it in that moment.

  “We went to Saoleord for help,” Siobhan explained with a hollow smile. “As they still remember how to fight wars.”

  For the first time since entering the room, Hammon’s eyes lit up with fierce hope. “Is that right. Then I am very glad to meet you, Master Hyun Woo. Thank you for coming.”

  Siobhan turned and extended her hand to the other woman standing so quietly and patiently behind Hyun Woo. “This is Cha Ji An-jia, also of Saoleord.”

  Hammon turned and gave her a bow, almost an exact replica of the one that Hyun Woo had given him. The man was certainly quick on the uptake. “Cha Ji An-jia, the pleasure is mine. Please, all of you, sit. I will have refreshments brought in, as you seem to have traveled here with all haste.”

  They had, actually.

  “And then,” Hammon said, jaw set in a determined line, “You will tell me what I need to do to help Goldschmidt from being overrun and how I can protect my own city.”

  ӜӜӜ

  In Siobhan’s life, there were only a few times when she’d felt totally useless, as if she were little better than a decorative statue sitting about gathering dust. Most of the time, it was when someone was severely injured, or she was stuck in a situation that she had no control over, like what happened with Lirah last year. This time, it was simply because the conversation was completely over her head.

  Hammon had lost no time in gathering reports, maps, and whatever information Hyun Woo needed. A collapsible table had been brought in, set up between the couches, and was now covered in parchment. Hyun Woo, Hammon, and Tran were bent over the table discussing tactics and strategies. Siobhan didn’t understand one word in three, so couldn’t contribute anything to the conversation. But at the same time, as the guildmaster who was Goldschmidt’s representative, she couldn’t get up and leave either. Hammon occasionally had questions for her, or needed to tell her something, and it forced her hand so that she had to remain sitting there. Patiently. Well, not patiently, but she did wait quietly.

  Hyun Woo made a sweeping motion with one hand, indicating the outer wall of the city. “What is this area like? Is the ground soft?”

  “Mostly marshland,” Hammon responded. “We don’t build on it as anything with a foundation just sinks. But it’s firm enough to travel over. Wagons and such don’t ever get stuck on it.”

  Finally! The conversation was taking a turn that even she could understand.

  “Such ground is perfect for an invading force,” Hyun Woo grumbled, frowning at the map. “We need to break up this area, somehow. Do not let them have a direct or easy approach. Caltrops would be the easiest way.”

  “Cal-what?” Hammon repeated, confused.

  “Metal spikes that are twisted in a way that they set firmly in the ground,” Hyun Woo explained. His hands rose to illustrate, fingers crooked and caught together. “They embed themselves into the feet of anyone foolish enough to walk on them.”

  “The army is mostly on foot, we think,” Tran said slowly. “Caltrops would be a good way to stop them. But won’t we need a lot?”

  “Yes.” Hyun Woo glanced up at Hammon with an expression that clearly said, You need to get this started now.

  Hammon promptly grabbed a clean sheet of paper and a charcoal pencil and handed it to him. “Draw the design, give instructions on how to make them, and I’ll have every available blacksmith start working on them.”

  Pleased, Hyun Woo took both from him and started quickly sketching.

  Tran put a finger against the map. “The caltrops will slow them down, but we still need a way to fight them off. We need archers on every wall, well equipped with arrows.”

  “And lots of oil,” Hyun Woo added, not looking up from his drawing. “The imp
ortant thing about fighting is stamina and giving your men time to rest. If you can lay down oil, and set it ablaze, then you give them several hours in which to sleep and eat without worry. No man is foolish enough to cross a line of hot fire.”

  Hammon’s brow compressed. “Won’t they try to put it out?”

  “Of course. But even that takes time.”

  Siobhan couldn’t help but pipe up. “All of this sounds like delaying tactics to me. Do you have a plan to defeat them?”

  Hyun Woo paused and tilted his head toward her. “She makes a valid point. We do not have a strong force to meet them with. Your fighters are strong, individually, but they do not know how to fight as a unit. Most of the world is this way. It is why two cities have fallen to the rabble. But I know from experience that mobs are easily discouraged. If we make this city too hard, too costly, for them to take, then they will leave. Right now, we want to make them leave. When we have space to breathe, then we think of how to defeat them.”

  A finger tapping against the table, Hammon considered this in silence for several moments. “If I didn’t send a force of men to help Goldschmidt, would we have the strength necessary to defeat this army?”

  Siobhan held her breath, nervous about what this answer would be. Her eyes cut to Hyun Woo and silently pleaded for him to not say yes to that question.

  “Hmm, not necessarily the case. You see, it is not strength you lack but experience and tactics.”

  “Our position here is defensive, not offensive,” Tran added, supporting this. “More men will not help us if they don’t know what to do to defend the city. With the right preparations, we won’t need an overwhelming force to hold the walls.”

  Hyun Woo beamed at him. “Truly a privilege, teaching an intelligent mind.”

  Tran grinned back at him, with what might have been a faint blush staining his cheeks.

  Siobhan felt proud of him as well. Those two weeks in Saoleord had obviously not been a waste with Tran. But then, with his memory, she hadn’t expected otherwise.

  A finger moved back and forth between the two men as Hammon asked, “So, you taught him strategy?”

  “Indeed, what I could in the short time given to us,” Hyun Woo confirmed.

  Not being an idiot, Hammon immediately gave the man a congenial smile and requested, “When this is over, will you teach me and my men as well?”

  “I will teach you now,” Hyun Woo corrected, eyes crinkling up, lips curled back in a feral expression. “Experience is the best way to teach. If you want others to learn, bring them in here.”

  Hammon promptly spun on his heel, coat flaring out at the bottom, and went directly to the door. Flinging it open, he shouted down the hallway, “Boren, Collins, Cox, get in here!”

  Siobhan, despite the seriousness of the situation, couldn’t help but grin. Well, the man was certainly quick on the uptake.

  While he waited on the men he called to come in, Hammon turned and addressed Siobhan directly. “I will make sure that men are sent to help Goldschmidt, now that I know we can defend Winziane without them. Do not worry, Guildmaster.”

  She bowed her head to him in profuse gratitude. “Thank you.”

  “It will take me the rest of the day to gather everyone, I think. Perhaps part of tomorrow as well. We still must finalize who I need to defend my walls and who I can afford to send. But help will be on its way no later than tomorrow afternoon.”

  “My Pathmaker will be standing by, ready to transport them,” she promised.

  “Well enough.” Hammon stopped and looked at them, truly looked, for the first time since they had come. “Thank you. For coming to tell me about this, for staying to help me prepare, thank you. I could not wish for better allies.”

  The city was burning.

  Smoke hung thick in the air, making it hard to breathe, and the heat of the fires he passed were intense enough to singe the fine hairs along his skin. Wolf felt as if he were fighting inside a roaring furnace. A crowded furnace, at that, as people streamed past him, either children or valuables clutched to their chest as they ran, frantic to escape the army nipping at their heels.

  Every enforcer and fighter from the guilds were doing their best to keep the roads clear of enemies, protecting the people as they escaped the city. Wolf stood firm with Markl on one side, Tarik on another, and they efficiently cut down anyone that tried to fight them.

  The defenses on the wall had fallen an hour ago, overrun by sheer numbers. Ryu Jin Ho had pulled one miracle after another, keeping the enemy just confused enough to buy them time, and they used it to get most of the civilians out of the city before the eastern wall was breached. But even their master strategist couldn’t keep the inevitable from happening. Wolf and Markl, realizing what would happen, went out to protect people as well as they could. The city might be lost, but the citizens of Goldschmidt could still be saved, and that was what they focused on.

  Word was spreading at the gates to run to Converse, that it would be safe in Converse. Wolf prayed that was true, as they didn’t have any other place to go. Not that was feasible to reach in one night. Darrens had sacrificed some of his fighting force and diverted them, using them to protect the roads so his people could reach Converse without being attacked. With Wolf embroiled in one skirmish after another here on the streets, he had no way of knowing if this plan had worked. He only could pray it had.

  With a roar of anger, he used his iron hand to punch his opponent in the jaw. The man’s eyes rolled up in his head and he sank bonelessly to the ground. Taking in a deep breath, Wolf turned and checked on the two men fighting with him. Their opponents were also defeated, crumpled up on the cobblestone. Without someone demanding his undivided attention, he realized that the surge of people had dwindled to a few stragglers, and there wasn’t an enemy in sight.

  “Are we done here?”

  “Seems so,” Markl responded. He was leaning against his crescent sword, face flushed and panting hard. The scholar had done well keeping up with them, but he might be at his limit. He wasn’t used to fighting for long periods of time after all. The fact he’d done it half the night without complaint was admirable.

  Tarik used his shirt sleeve to wipe the sweat from forehead before saying, “What now?”

  Good question. Wolf turned about in a slow circle, taking in their area. Fighting the fires would be a futile effort on their part and he wasn’t even tempted to try. They were on the western side now, as they had been fighting and slowly retreating that direction, and were only blocks away from the western gate. If there were no people left here to protect, or enemies, then there was no reason to stay to his mind. “We might as well head to Converse. No reason to hang about.”

  Markl lifted his face to the sky. “It’s daybreak. Did we really fight all night?”

  Wolf gave him a feral smile. “Time passes quickly when you’re having fun.”

  “Of course you think fighting is fun,” Tarik snorted, dredging up a weary smile.

  They hadn’t actually fought all night. The attack had started at midnight, the alarm sounding out, and then the battle was lost somewhere around two in the morning. Wolf and the others had actually been fighting about six hours. It just felt like they’d been fighting all night.

  Sweet mercy, he could use a drink and a hearty meal right about now.

  No chance of that, though. With a resigned sigh, he motioned for the others to follow him, and started trudging for the gate.

  “Why do you suppose they attacked at midnight?” Tarik mused aloud.

  “Sound thinking on someone’s part,” Markl responded grimly. “It gives them the element of surprise, which they used very well to get past our defenses, and it also cuts off the chances of us using Pathfinders to get help in here. If we’d been able to get fighters in from Winziane, or Converse, we might not have lost Goldschmidt.”

  Yes, it had been sound thinking on someone’s part. If Wolf ever met the man that thought of it, he’d make sure to reward him appropriately with
an iron fist in the man’s gut. Markl was right. If they had just been able to get help in here, they might not have lost the city. Now they were faced with the daunting task of having to reclaim it, if the invaders chose to stay here.

  Even if they didn’t, they were faced with the daunting task of rebuilding it.

  The sun steadily climbed in the sky so that by the time they had reached the gate, dawn had passed.

  To his relief, most of the people were gone already, the road clear, with only the defenders of Goldschmidt still straggling out of the gate in pockets here and there. Wolf counted faces as he saw them, relieved to see that most of his friends had survived the night, and troubled by the ones he didn’t see. He could only hope that they were the ones chosen to go ahead.

  “Where is Ryu Jin Ho, do you suppose?” Markl asked, as if he suddenly remembered the man.

  “Probably with Darrens and his family. They would have retreated ahead of us.” Tarik rubbed at the back of his head, looking ten years older. “Protocol says they are the first to get out of the city if something goes wrong.”

  Made sense. Wolf trusted that they had protected their guest well but even if they didn’t, Ryu Jin Ho could handle himself. He would go looking for the man once they reached Converse though.

  From their left, a voice hailed, “Markl! Wolf!”

  Rune? Wolf turned to look, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the morning sun. Sure enough, the boy was running toward them in a fast sprint. As he got closer, the smile of relief was obvious on the boy’s face to see them hale and hearty. He slid to a stop in front of them, eyes taking them in from head to toe. “What happened? I could see it from the edge of the path. It looks like half the city burned last night.”

  “It did,” Markl responded hollowly. “They attacked at midnight.”

  Rune’s face went pale. “What?”

  Wolf didn’t have the words or the heart to tell the tale, so he let Markl do it. Tarik piped up with a comment or three in the telling, but Rune asked no questions. He just listened with sad eyes and an occasional nod.