Finding it impossible to get a good assessment of what the outside of the wall looked like, Wolf backed up three feet and called to the top, “What’s it look like outside?”
Someone he recognized, but couldn’t name, popped his head over the side to respond, “Not much left fighting! The smart ones scattered and are running for Goldschmidt!”
Perfect. So the plan really had worked. Wolf let out a long, relieved breath.
In that case, the fighting was done. Sheathing his sword, he used his free hand to gesture in a broad circle. “Let’s gather up our wounded! Rune, you’re in charge of prisoners.”
This battle was won.
Aside from tying on a bandage, Siobhan had no medical training whatsoever, but even her hands were drafted to help. Conli had prepared for the worst, and that’s almost what he got. Even with all of the help that he drafted, he still couldn’t quite handle the influx of patients that came in. Siobhan did her best to help by tying on bandages when he directed, moving patients that could walk outside and into a different building so that they could rest on cots, and sometimes she just went hunting for supplies as they ran short.
She was so busy coming and going that if she had run into herself, Siobhan wouldn’t have been surprised. Denney and Sylvie seemed to be in the same state, as they were pulled this way and the other, answering the demands of the people around them.
“Make room!” a very familiar voice boomed out over the din inside the clinic.
Siobhan looked up sharply and found Tran coming through the doorway, an injured man curled up in his arms, forehead obviously bleeding. Dropping everything, she weaved her way to him, directing as she did so, “Tran, this way. There’s an empty bed this way.”
Hearing her, he turned and followed the direction of her pointing finger, gently easing the man onto the cot. Grabbing a clean cloth, she put it to the bleeding temple and added pressure. “Any other injuries?”
“I think a busted rib or two. He took a hard hit to the side with a hammer.”
Wincing, she turned and called to Conli, “Head wound and possible broken ribs!”
“Blue ribbon!” he called back, not looking up from the man he was working on.
Siobhan dug a blue ribbon from her pocket and tied it around the man’s left shoe.
Tran pointed toward it and asked in confusion, “What’s that mean?”
“About…” she looked out the window, found that the sky was darkening, and blinked. “Is the day gone?”
“Yes.”
Oh. When had that happened? Wait, had she spent the entire afternoon here? Shaking the thought off, she went back to answering his question. “Some hours ago, when the wounded flooded in, we realized we didn’t have a good system for deciding who needed to be treated first. So we came up with one. Red ribbons means its life threatening, blue ribbons means it could possibly be serious but they can wait up to an hour, yellow ribbons are for minor injuries that Denney or Sylvie can handle.”
He gave a judicious nod of approval. “Smart.”
Siobhan wasn’t interested in any of that. Now that she had someone that she knew had been fighting on the front lines, she wanted information. “How goes it out there?”
Tran blinked in surprise. “You haven’t heard? We won.”
“We won?” she repeated in delight, hope welling up in her. “Are you sure?”
“The whole army, what’s left of it, has retreated back to Goldschmidt.” Tran grinned at her, a flash of white in his dark skin. “Battle’s been over a good twenty minutes. I’m surprised you haven’t heard by now.”
“People are too focused getting the injured in here, they don’t stop and talk.” And the only ones that were left that could tell her came in unconscious. “Do you know about the others?” she pressed. “Wolf, Rune, Markl, Fei?”
“Wolf, Rune, and Fei are fine,” Tran assured her. “I saw them while bringing this man in. Markl’s on the other side of the city, so I’m not sure about him.”
The fact that Siobhan hadn’t seen him being carried into the clinic yet gave her hope that Markl was also fine.
Tran pushed back up to his feet. “There’s more coming. I need to help bring them.”
“Go,” she encouraged, shooing him off with one hand. “And if you find out about Markl, tell me.”
Tapping his heart twice in acknowledgement, he turned and moved off at a half-trot, which was impressive in these cramped quarters.
Conli came around and knelt down to the bed next to her, where a red-ribboned patient was groaning. With quick, efficient movements he started assessing the damage even as he asked her, “What did Tran say?”
“That the battle is won. The army has retreated to Goldschmidt.”
He was surprised enough to actually stop and look up for a moment. “Truly?”
Siobhan nodded happily. “He also said that Wolf, Rune, and Fei are not injured. He saw them while bringing in this man.”
“And Markl?”
“He didn’t know. Markl’s on the other side of the city.”
Denney must have been close enough to hear, despite being a good ten beds away, as she asked, “Did you say Rune is fine?”
“Yes!” Siobhan raised her voice enough to make sure Denney could hear her. “And we won! The army has retreated!”
Despite being injured, and in serious pain, the injured men in the room gave a quiet roar of approval. Some of them even pumped victorious fists into the air. Too happy to contain it, Siobhan laughed outright. “You did well, everyone! Your efforts were not wasted.”
A second roar answered her, this one louder than the last. Even the man under her hands woke up because of it, although his eyes wouldn’t focus. “Wha?” he slurred out. “What’s going on?”
She repeated what she knew to him and he gave a contented sigh. “That’s good,” he said, eyes closing again. “That’s good.”
‘Good’ seemed a gross understatement to her. If she weren’t completely worn out, Siobhan would have been dancing a jig about now.
“Siobhan-ajie.”
She turned sharply on her heels, finding Fei standing just inside the doorway. She gave him a quick scan from head to foot and didn’t see any signs of obvious injury. Right, Tran had said he wasn’t hurt. “What is it, Fei?”
“Darrens-zhi is calling for you.”
“Darrens?” she repeated, half-puzzled with this summoning and half-worried. Darrens never called her just to pass the time of day. She only saw the man when either an emergency was on their hands or there was money involved. Usually both. Both hands against her knees, she pushed herself to her feet and weaved in and around the cots, heading for him. “Is he still holding court in that inn?”
“No,” Fei denied with a small shake of the head. “Come, I’ll lead you to him.”
There were so many outside the door trying to get in that Siobhan was rebuffed in her first attempt to exit. In fact, she was sent staggering back a pace. Fei had to come back in for her, put an arm around her shoulders, and use bodily force to get her free of the clinic. She could see from the tightness around his eyes that he found the total of injured unnerving and sought to reassure him, “Most of these men aren’t ours. The ones still waiting out here are the enemy. All of ours fit in the two clinics that Conli prepared with the other doctors.”
The worry in his face eased. “That’s good.”
Hoping Fei knew more than he was saying (he usually did) she asked, “Why is Darrens calling for me?”
“He found two men that were the leaders and is questioning them. He said he wants you to hear what they say.”
That answered the question, certainly, but brought up whole new ones. “He wants me to hear it because…?”
“You are the last one to be in Orin. You know more of what is happening there than he does, and is better prepared to sort truth from lies.”
“Ah.” Got it.
The streets were lined on either side with the wounded, none of it life-threateningly s
erious although at first glance it might seem that way. Most of the men looked sullen as well as hurting. But then, it was the very people they’d attacked that they were now depending on for help. Siobhan wasn’t the least bit sympathetic to their plight. Certainly, their poor economy had driven them to desperate lengths, but there were other options rather than trying to go to war.
As it turned out, Darrens wasn’t far away. Once they passed through the main street, they came to a corner that had a café with outside tables. Of course, the café wasn’t being run at the moment, but Darrens was using one of the tables to hold an impromptu interrogation of sorts. Probably because it was well lit by two street lamps. Looking up, the guildmaster saw her and waved her closer. Fei let go so she could approach, but stayed right by her side.
When she got a good look at the two men seated, bound to the chairs, she felt she understood why her quiet enforcer was acting overly protective. For one thing, those chairs did not look capable of supporting the men’s weight. They were like Wolf, or Tran, mountainous men with muscles bulging everywhere. The ropes tied around their torsos and hands looked pitiful, like sewing thread.
The hatred in their eyes burned so brightly that she felt scorched just meeting their gaze. Swallowing hard, she didn’t flinch, but stared them down instead.
“Heh.” Darrens found this silent contest of wills amusing, openly grinning at her. “If you two think that you can intimidate her, you’re swimming up a waterfall. She’s got men in her guild your size and an assassin from a dark guild, all of them tamed. You’ve met your match with her.”
One man turned his head just enough to scowl at Darrens instead. He didn’t try to argue this point, though.
Without looking away from them, she said to Darrens, “You wished to see me?”
“I did. You reported to me last fall that Fallen Ward had a new guildmaster, although no one knew anything about him. How sure are you of that information?”
Fallen Ward? Alarm bells started ringing in the back of her mind and she turned her head in slow degrees to face him. “Positive. Why?”
“They’re telling me the old guildmaster still rules. Not only that, they’re saying that they are two of the more prominent officers in Fallen Ward.”
Siobhan stepped around the table so that she could see them better. Dark boots were of good leather, if muddy, clothes were in good repair and fit them properly, and while their weapons were gone, both of them had sword sheaths strapped to their sides. So they had been properly armed.
“I believe that they might indeed be officers in the guild,” she concluded aloud. “But Fallen Ward’s old leader is dead. That’s a fact.”
“Hmmm.” Darrens eyed his prisoners thoughtfully. “So why the lie?”
It was Fei that spoke, voice quiet. “Fallen Ward’s leadership is hereditary.”
Both prisoners flinched ever so slightly and refused to meet anyone’s eyes.
Siobhan let out a snort. “Fei, I think you’re on to something. They don’t want us thinking along these lines. Something wrong with your current leader, boys?”
Stubborn silence.
“Did the old man even have a family?” Darrens cocked his head, struggling to remember. “I never dealt with him much, so I don’t know. But I don’t think he had a declared heir to his seat, did he?”
“We can find out.” Iron Dragain kept close tabs on that guild, they would know, although it would take time to get a letter to them.
“So either there is no heir, and Fallen Ward is running around doing whatever their upper leaders tell them to,” Darrens concluded aloud, “or there is a problem with the current heir, which is why everything is so hush-hush. Either way, we’ll find out. The main point to all this, I think—” he planted his boot in a chair and leaned forward, smile menacing “—is that two of the more prominent leaders of Fallen Ward were acting as commanders for this army. And if you had the authority to do that, then that means that Fallen Ward was behind this whole thing.”
Siobhan’s mind hadn’t jumped to that obvious conclusion yet, but when he said that, it felt like her lungs had been robbed of air. Oh. Of course. “Fallen Ward was behind this?” she breathed, images of the destroyed cities and wounded flashing in front of her eyes.
“Oh, I’ll bet good money on it.” Darrens’ mouth stretched in a grimace. “Now, the main question is this, what do we do about it? We’ve had guilds fight with other guilds before, but never anything on this scale.”
She had to shake her head, hard, to dismiss her thoughts and focus on his question. It was a good one to ask, and she felt like she didn’t have a good answer to it. “I think…I think we should focus on getting Goldschmidt back first. Then ask that question again.”
Darrens flipped a hand over, conceding the point. “It’s true, we can’t do much without a power base, which Converse is not. And we can’t keep the citizens of Converse displaced like this forever. Winziane’s hospitality should not be abused. But I don’t think that Fallen Ward should get away with this.”
“Me either.” Siobhan put a hand over her eyes, terrified for a moment that she would start crying. It took a deep breath and concentration on her part to stop any tears from falling. Even then, she felt on the brink of falling apart. “Guildmaster Darrens, if you don’t need me for anything else, I’ll head back to the clinic.”
Darrens shook his head. “No, stay. You’re more up to date on world affairs than I am at the moment with all of the traveling you’ve done in the past six months. I need to ask a lot of questions of these men and I need you to verify facts for me.”
Seeing that he had a good point, she acquiesced with a nod of the head. Besides, she had questions of her own that she wanted answers to. She might as well take advantage of the situation.
Still leaning forward in that menacing posture, Darrens pressed forward. “How many men are left?”
Both enemy commanders huffed in disbelief and refused to even look at him.
“Three thousand?” Darrens continued, studying every nuance in their expressions. “Two thousand? Ah, closer to two thousand.”
Yes, judging from the way they had flinched at that number, Darrens was likely right.
“So what was the ultimate goal here, eh?” Darrens leaned back so that he was standing more upright, a finger circling idly toward the sky. “I assume you came all this distance with an objective in mind.”
Still that stubborn silence. Siobhan wet her lips and tried a different approach. “Orin’s economy has suffered greatly from the trade agreement that was formed.”
Both men finally looked at her with angry expressions, nearly vibrating in their seats under the force of their rage. It made Fei tense as he picked up on their murderous intent, even though they were both bound.
Seeing that she was getting a reaction, she tried goading them further. “I was in Orin not long ago. I saw for myself how bad things were just trying to scrape up enough money to build the bridge with. With the economy crashed, how bad did things get?”
“Like you care,” the man to her right spat out, hissing like a wet cat.
“She does, actually,” Darrens refuted. “You won’t believe how many times she came to me and pleaded for some alternative to the trade agreement. She was afraid of what would happen to Orin if nothing was done. I’m sorry now I didn’t listen to her.”
“Then it’s a shame you’re so powerless,” the same man sneered at her. She started to think of him as Mouthy, because he was the only one willing to talk. “People are starving, and all you can say is ‘how bad did things get’ to me?”
Siobhan and Darrens shared a speaking look. So, things had gotten that bad? She’d been afraid that was the case, but to have it confirmed made her sick to her stomach.
“Looting cities in Robarge would ease suffering in Orin, I grant you that.” Darrens picked up the threat smoothly, following Siobhan’s lead. “But it would be a temporary fix. Did you think that doing this would solve all of your problems?”
Mouthy huffed and looked away, a deliberately bored expression on his face.
“Or was the goal to gain control of the Grey Bridges through Converse, making a trade monopoly of your own?” Darrens asked as if thinking out loud, not expecting an answer at all.
“Heh.” Mouthy’s lip lifted in an arrogant curl.
“No, that doesn’t make sense, not in the long run,” Fei disagreed. The wheels were turning in his mind as he thought aloud. “I bet taking this bridge was simply for leverage. Their real goal is to complete their own bridge.”
Mouthy jerked upright, mouth opening to let some sort of comment fly, only to bite his lip at the last second and subside.
Siobhan’s mouth formed in a silent ‘oh’ as the pieces started to fall together. Yes, Orin was in bad shape, but their goal was still to finish their own bridge? Really? It was sound strategy, certainly, but it wouldn’t pay off for another fifty years! Didn’t they have a more immediate goal to rectify the situation?
Both men were now being very careful to keep their feelings shut off so that nothing showed on their faces. Siobhan found it impossible to read them. Whatever in she had before was gone now. Chewing on her bottom lip, she tried to think of another question that might get a rise from them. “By attacking us like this, you’ve succeeded in gaining the world’s attention. We don’t want to fight with you, or risk sparking another war like this one. Would your leaders be open to negotiations?”
“He does not listen to anyone—” Mouthy snapped, only to be abruptly shut up when his companion slammed his shoulder into him, nearly knocking him over.
He? Siobhan’s interest perked. This was the first sign that they actually knew who their new guildmaster was. “The new guildmaster is a man?”
Mouthy, ashamed at his outburst, stared steadfastly at the ground. His companion was staring at him hard enough to leave holes in the man’s head. The silent pressure was enough that even Siobhan felt unnerved by it. She sensed instinctively that they wouldn’t get another word out of either man. Not without some serious pressure of the not-nice variety, at least.
Blackstone (Book 2) Page 20
