Arms akimbo, she argued, “Well, what do you want us to do? We have to work! The paths don’t build themselves.”
“YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO CALL ME TO WATCH YOURS BACKS!” he thundered, a vein throbbing at his temple.
Even Siobhan flinched back, eyes shooting wide. Grae was about a hair’s breadth from hiding behind her.
Immediately regretting his loss of control, he lowered his voice to a quieter tone and pleaded, “Siobhan, please. Don’t do this again. Grae, you as well. If you need to leave the city, even if you need to leave the Hall, please call me. I will happily go with you rather than face something bad happening.”
Grae and Siobhan shared a glance before Grae ventured, “Then you were serious? You sincerely want to be our enforcer until you return home?”
“Yes, man, I was serious,” Erik said as patiently as he could.
They shared glances again, and this time, a multitude of words and emotions were expressed without them saying a word to each other. Erik could tell that this time, they knew he was sincere. He would not be repeating himself again on this topic nor fear them going out without his knowing.
“Then stay,” Grae invited, not quite meeting his eyes. “Help us.”
“Gladly.” Erik looked about on the ground, noticing for the first time where he stood. “Is this near a dry riverbed?”
“Yes, exactly,” Grae confirmed. “We’re harvesting rocks to build a path with.”
“We only have 5,800 something to go,” Siobhan said mock-brightly, voice heavy with sarcasm. “I’m so glad you volunteered to help, Wolf.”
Erik bit back a groan. Digging about in the dirt for pebbles was hardly a fun way to pass the time, but if it meant getting the job done faster, he would do just that. Resigned, he turned to Grae. “Show me what to look for.”
For the first time, Grae’s eyes came up and met his. Those blue eyes were wide with surprise. “You’re truly going to help us? Not just guard us?”
“Aye.”
Grae’s lips parted in wonder and what might have been the beginnings of a smile. “Then,” turning, he bent and scooped up a pile from a canvas sack before splaying them out on his open palm. “See? About this size. And if you can get them flat, that’d be best, as they’re easier to work with that way.”
“No specific color or anything?” Erik asked, bending slightly to get a better look.
Grae shook his head. “No, that doesn’t matter. The size and weight of it, that’s what matters.”
The man was the Pathmaker, not him, so he took his word for it. “Right.” Bending, he splayed his good hand on the ground and started searching. “Ones like these, then?”
Grae sank into a crouch next to him and tentatively took the pebbles from his hand. “Yes, these two are good. This one isn’t. See how it’s cracked down the middle? We want ones that are solid.”
“Got it.”
They all bent down and set to work, sorting through rocks and tossing anything that looked good into a canvas bag at their feet. Erik kept a general eye on the area in case of trouble, but no one seemed inclined to approach them.
The day slowly passed and eventually it got too late to stay out any longer. They packed up and went back to the Hall. Wolf’s knees were killing him, his back was aching, and his good hand was dry and dusty. But Grae was now speaking easily to him, Siobhan had gotten comfortable enough to try teasing and joking now and again, and he knew them both far better than he had this morning. And because of that, all of his aches and pains were well worth it.
Chapter Five
“Wolf, everything fine back there?” Siobhan called from the front of the caravan.
“Just fine!” he assured her.
The anticipated escorting job of taking a caravan to Wynngaard had finally arrived. Erik was of two minds about this. He was of course overjoyed at the thought of finally going home, and seeing friends and family, but…there was another part of him that hated the idea of leaving Siobhan, Grae, and Beirly behind. He’d only had a month with them, but that month was precious. The thought that he might never see them again made his heart rebel.
They had a prebuilt path outside of Quigg that would take them to Brevik. Actually, that was why the guild had been in Converse and met him. They were coming back from a pathmaking trip. Siobhan had taken advantage of having a job scheduled a month in advance and used the time to build the paths they needed. So all they had to do was use the path to get to Converse, cross the Grey Bridges, get through Quigg, and then take the path to Brevik. In all, it shouldn’t be more than a four day journey. If things went wrong, perhaps five days.
And then after that, they would travel up to Reske. So in ten days or less, he would be home.
Erik wasn’t nearly as happy about that as he should be. Really, all he wanted to do was find ways to delay the inevitable as much as possible.
In terms of caravans, this one was not particularly large. It was only six wagons, two outriders, and about ten traders and drivers that belonged to the company. Because of that, they could hire a small guild of four like Deepwoods to escort and guard them. Brevik was on the western side of Wynngaard and about a five day journey from his hometown. Erik had been through there a few times as a child, and while his memory was hazy, he had more experience with the route than anyone in Deepwoods did.
He chose to guard the back of the caravan, as that way he could see more problems as they came, and it took a while for him to realize that there was something going on at the foot of the path. Frowning, he came around, lengthening his stride so that he quickly came to where Grae and the caravan boss, Callie, stood.
“What’s the holdup?”
Callie was a tiny woman, whipcord hard with muscle, hair frizzy and kept up on the top of her head in a messy bun. She moved in sharp, jerky gestures that always made Erik think that she was about a second away from exploding into a sprint. At his question, she jerked her chin in an aggravated motion toward Grae. “This young whelp tells me I have to split the wagons in half.”
“There’s too much weight,” Grae said with a helpless shrug of his hands. “If we try to go all at once, the path will fail, and that’s never pretty when it happens.”
Erik didn’t know what would happen if the path failed while they were on it. He didn’t want to know, either. Going by path made him a little nervous as it was. “How much overweight are we?”
“At least two wagons. I’d feel better if we split the caravan in half though.”
He knew why the caravan boss wasn’t happy about this. It would take a half hour to get through the path at least, which meant that both halves of her train would be not as well protected for a full hour before they could get them back in the same place. Rocking back on his heels, Erik thought about it for a moment. “Grae, leave two of the wagons with me. I’ll take care of them. Go ahead with the rest.”
“Leave just you and two of my drivers?” Callie protested.
Grinning at her, he challenged, “You think someone can get past me?”
Pursing her lips, Callie looked him over from head to toe, eyes especially lingering over his new iron hand that Beirly had finished for him last week. “I’d like to see the fool who’d try to take you on. I suppose the rest of us are enough to protect the other four until you catch up.”
That was his thought exactly. He glanced at Siobhan. She had been quiet during this exchange, watching how it panned out. From the mulish set of her jaw, Erik could tell she was less than pleased with this plan, but they really didn’t have another option. Grae couldn’t very well stop and build another path that would take the whole caravan.
They organized who would stay and who would go. Grae activated the path and took the others ahead, the path making a blue, shimmery pattern in the air like a heat wave over a desert land. Erik watched, fascinated, as he had never seen a path activated from the outside before. It was rather pretty, in a strange, alien way.
With them gone, he turned his mind to more practical thing
s and did a slow rotation around the wagons, looking for potential trouble. On his second patrol around them, one of the drivers, still sitting up on his bench, asked, “Don’t think I caught your name.”
Erik glanced up at him. The man looked seasoned, and hard, like leather that had been abandoned in the sun too long. “Erik Wolfinsky. What’s yours?”
“Ayan. Rob Ayan. You look Wynngaardian, am I right? Thought so. How’d you end up here?”
“It’s quite the story,” Erik responded, not really feeling like getting into it or explaining everything to a relative stranger.
“I bet.” Ayan seemed to realize he wouldn’t get that full story, as he let it lie. “I got that we needed to split, but why?”
“Too much weight, is what Grae said.”
Growling, Ayan spat over the side of the wagon. “I told Callie not to pick up all those glass jars. I know they sell for a pretty penny over there, but they’re as heavy as two bulls. If we’d left those behind, we’d have been at the right weight. Say, if we’re having trouble here, you think we’ll have this problem again outside of Quigg?”
A question that hadn’t occurred to him yet, but Erik thought that Grae had built the same type of path outside of Quigg as he had here. So yes, they might well run into this problem again. Only it would be more dangerous outside of Quigg. That was a city that didn’t have a ruling guild over it, so there were no laws enforced at all. Brevik wasn’t nearly as dangerous by comparison. At least, by his memories it wasn’t. But he’d been through Quigg fairly recently and that…was not a good city. “I hope not. I don’t know what type of path he built over there.”
“I’d take it as a kindness if you’d ask. Either way, we’ll have to make do, but I’d like a little warning.”
Erik mentally seconded that. He’d also like some warning.
Grae came back before trouble could find them, and Erik loaded up on one of the benches so that they could go through. He was relieved to find on the other side that no one had attacked the first part of the caravan while he was away from it. Callie and Siobhan were equally relieved, although for entirely different reasons.
With the group back together, they fell back into formation and passed through Converse, then arrived on the Grey Bridges. Erik had only been on these once, when he was taken from Wynngaardian soil to Robarge. They were as wide and impressive as last time, not a thing having changed in the past seven years. Even though the bridges were wide enough that eight wagons could travel side by side, they stayed in a single line formation, clattering across on the grey stone. He also stayed in the very back, not wanting something to sneak up behind them.
For a full day they traveled over the bridges passing other caravans heading the opposite direction. No one tried to give them trouble, and they didn’t offer any, so it was a peaceful trip. Erik learned more about his fellow traveling companions as they traded stories and jokes back and forth. It was, all in all, a far better experience than the last time he’d travelled across the bridges. In fact, it was all smooth sailing right up until they reached Quigg. That was when their luck ran out.
One of the gate guards, who managed the traffic coming off of the Grey Bridges, recognized him. Granted, Erik was the type of man to stand out. Never mind his height, the missing hand alone would stick in people’s minds. So when he tried to walk off the bridge and into Quigg’s city limits, he was abruptly checked with a spear across his chest.
“Wait a minute,” the guard growled at him. He was a foot shorter, shoulders and arms impressively wide with muscle. Erik sized him up and realized quickly that this was not a man he would take lightly in combat. “I know you. You came through here two months ago as a slave.”
Erik glanced up and found that the caravan had kept going, not realizing he was caught and detained. It might be some time before someone realized that there was a problem and then even longer to figure out where he had disappeared to. Groaning to himself, he tried to explain, “I was, yes. I was bought and freed by a guildmaster from Robarge. I have my guild crest, if you want to see it?”
“Robarge,” the man said dubiously. “I don’t care what you are registered there as. Here, in Wynngaard, you are a slave. The records will say as much. You’ll have to follow me down to holding.”
He cursed a blue streak in his head. This was why Quigg was not a good city. The only law they recognized was the law of gravity. Everything else was up to interpretation. Erik knew good and well why the guard wouldn’t even try to see him as something other than a slave—a sizeable reward came from capturing escaped slaves. Unless Siobhan could miraculously prove that he belonged to her, he would be labeled as an escapee and resold.
Panicked at the thought, he did the only thing he could do. He raised his head and bellowed at the top of his lungs, “SIOBHAN!”
The guard jumped at having that yelled right in his ear. “Myrkr! What are you yelling for!”
Erik ignored him, eyes peeled toward the direction the caravan had disappeared to. It took a minute, but both Siobhan and Beirly appeared from the crowd of people, pushing their way roughly to him. Siobhan’s eyes darted between him and the guard, taking in the spear still pointed at his chest, and her brows snapped together, a dark thundercloud crossing over her face. Well, it didn’t take her long to put the pieces together.
Nearly stomping, she marched directly to him, grabbed the spear, and yanked it away from him, throwing the guard off balance. Taking advantage, she shoved it toward him, and he fell back a step, giving her enough space to stand between him and Erik. “What is going on here?” she demanded of the guard. “Why do you detain my guildsman?”
The guard pointed a self-righteous finger at him. “This man is a slave, I recognize him—”
“He was a slave, I bought him, he’s now an enforcer in my guild,” Siobhan snapped.
Erik looked down at her in astonishment. It had been years since anyone was so angry and defensive on his behalf. He could swear that the look in her eyes alone was enough to turn a man into stone.
The guard drew himself up, slamming the butt of his spear against the ground. A smirk was tugging at his lips as he said to her, “Unless you can somehow prove that, this man will come with me.”
Siobhan tapped her fingers against her upper arm, eyes narrowed to a lethal degree. Then she said, “Fine.” The word was not an agreement.
Fine? Erik blinked at her. She could prove that? How?
From her vest pocket, she drew out a leather wallet, which held several folded pieces of paper. Erik recognized one of them as the map she had of Wynngaard. Shuffling through the pile, she found the one she wanted, unfolded it with a snap, then held it up in the air so the guard could read it. “Bill of sale.”
The guard’s smirk drooped and his jaw tightened in aggravation. Any other documentation he would have been able to argue against, as one city was not liable to hold true to another city’s laws. But a bill of sale was universal and no one would dare to discount it. The only thing that every city and continent respected was trade. Erik grinned in appreciation.
Satisfied she had made her point, Siobhan folded it and tucked it away again. Then she stepped directly into the man’s space, her nose practically touching his. In a tone of pure menace, she breathed, “We won’t have this discussion again. Will we. Because no one here will make this mistake again.”
Not once before had Erik ever found Siobhan threatening, but a chill raced up his spine in that moment. He made a mental note to never, ever cross her.
“My apologies,” the guard gritted out, more angry than cowed.
“Good enough.” Grabbing Erik’s hand, she collected Beirly with nothing more than a jerk of the head, then spun on a heel and dove onto the main street with a quick stride.
Seeing that she was in no mood to talk, Erik wisely directed his questions to Beirly, who was struggling to keep up with them. “She kept my bill of sale on her?”
“Takes a while to get a man’s name cleared after he’s been blac
k listed,” Beirly explained, puffing slightly. “She was worried something like this would happen at Island Pass, but none of us expected it here.”
Made sense. Usually if a man could go through Island Pass, he didn’t get any questions at the next city. They were much stricter than anyone else about who went through their territory.
“Shi, slow down,” Beirly pleaded.
Siobhan slowed her steps an nth degree. “The gall of that man, thinking he could take Wolf and resell him! I’m going to hunt down his guildmaster and have a good talk with the man on the way back. Otherwise, after Wolf’s home, he won’t be able to leave Reske at all without worrying about this.”
Oh. He hadn’t thought of that, but yes, he would land in this situation again unless it was straightened out now. Only he wouldn’t be so handily rescued next time because Siobhan wouldn’t be with him and no one would have proof he was a free man.
Grae had taken charge of the caravan, while Siobhan dealt with matters, and had led them to an inn up ahead. They met up with the caravan, the drivers still dealing with unhitching their teams and settling them into the stable yard for the night. Even though Erik had felt his heart drop into his stomach because of the whole situation, it hadn’t actually taken more than five minutes, and most of the caravan didn’t seem to even be aware that something had gone on.
He kept his mouth shut as they went through the motions of settling into the inn for the night. Thanks to Siobhan’s foresight, they were booked into a nicer inn on the north side of town with enough rooms that no one had to share unless they wanted to. In fact, the group took the whole second floor for themselves.
Siobhan stopped just long enough to make sure that everyone was settled, then she marched right back out. Worried about her going around alone at this late point of the day, Erik automatically followed her. She seemed to take no real notice of him as she weaved through the streets, heading back toward the main gates they had left only an hour before. When she arrived, she cracked her knuckles, like she was preparing for a good fistfight. She rolled her head back and forth on her neck, too. Erik eyed this body language with the beginnings of trepidation. She wasn’t going to go in there and start a brawl, was she?
Origins: A Deepwoods Book - a Collection of Deepwoods Short Stories (Deepwoods Series 0) Page 7
