“I will,” she promised.
They were early enough that there was light traffic on the streets and they could move as a group without having to dodge any other pedestrians. South Gate, as it turned out, was only about seven streets down and one over. There were four men on gate duty and they exchanged amiable good mornings as they passed through, although the four gave Tran a sharp once-over. If he had been alone, he would have been stopped and questioned. It was only his inclusion in this group that gave him the go-ahead.
Tran went out four steps and took in the whole scene with raised eyebrows. When they said it was a large caravan, they hadn’t been kidding, had they? Just from where he stood, he counted twenty-four wagons, all of them being pulled by draft reinmals.
“Sylvie.”
She turned and looked up. “Yes?”
“Does the guild normally handle caravans this big?”
“Not normally. Only about three or four times a year. We’re one of the few guilds in northern Robarge than can take clients like this on.”
So Grae was that good of a Pathmaker? Tran had worked with many a Pathmaker for seven years and he had rarely seen one that could handle a caravan of this nature. Even splitting it up into three groups would mean a lot of weight. His initial estimate of the quiet man rose a few notches.
Siobhan grabbed a wagon wheel and used it to prop herself up a few feet. “Tran!” Waving an arm above her head, she sought to get his attention.
Tran had to slip around several people to reach her side. “Yes, Siobhan-maee?”
“This is John, the driver in charge of the second group,” she introduced. A stout man with a thick neck and ruddy skin ducked his head in greeting. Tran nodded back. “John, this is Tran Amar, one of my enforcers. His fighting skill is on par with Wolf’s, so I’m leaving you in capable hands while we’re separated.”
John let out a low whistle. “Wolf’s a legend in this group, so that’s saying something. Nice to meetcha, Tran Amar.”
“Likewise.” He wondered at the introduction, but was it Siobhan’s way of smoothing things over with a new face? John now seemed more inclined to trust him than he had in the first ten seconds. Tran was used to having to win people over because of his thug-like appearance, and this easy-going greeting was abnormal.
Grae got the first section of the caravan on the path and the rest of the guild fell into their places like a well-oiled machine. Even Sylvie, who had only been with them a short time, did not hesitate or seem at all uncertain. Was this because of Siobhan’s leadership?
From prior experience, Tran knew that taking that first section of caravan to the city would take at least two hours. Distance like that, even by path, would take an hour to cross and then it would take another hour for Grae to return. Tran spent that time going to each driver and introducing himself, talking to them, and getting a general feel for his group. If something went wrong, he wanted to be able to call the driver by name.
Wolf’s group went next, then his, and Tran was very impressed with the smoothness of the path. He had been on some that seemed jerky, or the air felt oppressive, or it seemed as if the very path was shaking from instability. Grae’s path was as solid as a rock and while the air felt slightly humid, it was nothing compared to his hometown. Tran also appreciated just how quickly the time went by as it barely felt five minutes to him before the walls of Turton were in view.
The time estimate that Grae had given was dead-on. By the time they had gotten all of the caravan to the walls, it was early afternoon. They wouldn’t have the time necessary to get across the river and into Kalvar Woods. Besides, why would they? No one would choose to camp next to the woods (where there were known bandits living) when they could have the comfort of a bed and a hot meal instead. The enforcers especially were glad to not have to be on duty all night against possible bandit raids.
Tran had never been in this direction—he only knew of the place because of a world map he had seen once—so he took the time to really get a good look.
Turton was not on any particular trade route and the lack of stable income showed. The walls were in need of repair, the tops of it crumbling, and there was a single enforcer standing guard at the main gates. Siobhan stood at his elbow, clearly waiting on the rest of the caravan to arrive, and she ushered them through with the guard’s bored nod of approval.
Siobhan motioned Tran over and said to him in a low voice, “Our inn is dead ahead on this street, The Lingering Mouse. I’m taking charge of Wolf and making him go straight to bed.” Pointing to the caravan, she asked, “See if they need any help settling in, but I think they know where they’re going and what to do.”
Wolf had been stubbornly standing this whole time even though he was weaving on his feet. Tran tapped his heart twice in understanding. “Vaah.”
She gave him a strange look. “What does that mean?”
“I understand,” he translated.
“Oh? I’ll remember.” Chin up, shoulders squared, she marched towards Wolf.
Tran obeyed orders and went to his drivers first, as they knew him best, and asked if there was anything he could help with. A few took him up on the offer, using his height and strength to do some of the heavier lifting, but most were capable of settling in without an issue.
With nothing else to do, Tran headed for the inn. Someone had taken his bag ahead with them, but he had no idea what the room assignments were, and he wouldn’t mind a mid-afternoon snack.
Siobhan’s directions were right on target and he found the inn without any trouble at all. It wasn’t much of a place, at least the look of it from the outside would give a man pause, but upon stepping inside he found that it was decent enough. The floors were swept clean, there was a hearth fire going, and the smells coming from the kitchen would make a dog roll over and beg.
His guild was more or less gathered around a table in the main section of the room and he weaved his way toward them, greeting them as he came. “The caravan is settled.”
“Good work.” Siobhan handed him a room key. “Yours is the fourth door on the second story to the left. We threw your bag in there already. The master says dinner will be available in about an hour but until then he’s offering rolls and beverages to tide us over.”
Grae scraped his chair back from the table. “In that case, I’ll take the time to go check the path. I’ll be back by dinner.”
Tran watched him go with a frown. The man might be brilliant at his craft but he was not a fighter. His heart just wasn’t in it. Unless the opponent was at his strength or weaker, odds were the gentle Pathmaker was going to get hurt. Wolf was likely upstairs resting, leaving him and Fei as the only enforcers left and in that moment, he felt it better to go with Grae than to stay with Siobhan and Beirly. Those two were decent at fighting and Tran frankly felt sorry for anyone that crossed Siobhan. Her attitude alone made her a worthy opponent.
He caught Fei’s eye and the other gave him a questioning look. He silently indicated the door and Fei nodded in understanding and agreement.
Getting up, Tran scooted his chair back with a boot and followed Grae out the door. He was barely ten steps behind and catching up quickly, due to his longer legs, but something made him pause. Coming up behind Grae was a pickpocket. Oh, the man was slick, he looked like he was just about his own business with not a nefarious thought in his head, but that sidling move he was making made it obvious what his profession was.
And Grae was completely oblivious.
Sighing, Tran lengthened his stride and caught the thief at the wrist, yanking and twisting hard at an unnatural angle. Not hard enough to break a bone but certainly enough to give the man a nasty sprain. The thief caught back a cry behind his teeth and landed awkwardly on the paving stones beneath their feet. He didn’t dare glare up at Tran—no thief would—but instead held his injured limb to his chest and scurried off.
Yes, he had definitely made the right decision to follow Grae. How had the man not noticed a thief right behind him?
Shaking his head, he once again looked for a dark head of hair. Ah, there he was, fifteen strides ahead. Quickening his pace again, he tried to catch up, only to be cut short as yet another pickpocket headed straight for Grae. Tran stared at the young boy incredulously. Seriously? Two pickpockets in a minute flat? Were the guards of this city a joke?
Tran didn’t hurt the very young, not unless he had very good cause to do so, and this certainly wasn’t the case. He grabbed the boy by the scruff of the neck and held out an imperious hand. “The purse. Now.”
The boy’s eyes were wide in his face and a fine sheen of sweat started on his forehead. Tran had that effect on a lot of people and it didn’t bother him. He just waited until the boy had found his wits to hand over the purse he’d stolen and then he dumped him unceremoniously on the ground before moving on.
Why hadn’t Grae heard him? Was he that lost inside of his own head that he had tuned the outside world out completely? Shaking his head, Tran moved on, this time going into a half-jog. Grae was barely ten steps ahead, but if he didn’t catch up to Grae quickly and act as a deterrent, he’d have to fend off every thief in this city. Did Grae wear some sign about his neck that read ‘Easy pickings?’
He must have, as two other pickpockets went for him, almost bumping into each other in the attempt. The only reason why they were foiled was that Grae’s purse was still in Tran’s hand.
This was beyond ridiculous.
Tran was so focused on Grae that he almost missed it when someone came up behind him, just on this side of being too close, and a light pressure tugged at his vest pocket. Tran’s hand snapped around with lightning speed, caught the offending appendage, and broke the bone without a second of hesitation.
There was a scream of pain and Tran dropped him before glancing back. Another thief, this one middle-aged. Surprised, he stared down at the man for a long moment. Tran could count the number of times that someone had tried to steal from him on one hand. People just didn’t think of him as a handy victim, not with the way he looked. Were the pickings so slim in this city that the thieves had become desperate?
If that was the case, he really had to get to Grae. Now.
Stowing Grae’s purse safely in an inside pocket, he tried to run forward, but was quickly thwarted. The streets were just too narrow here, there were too many pedestrians and street stalls, he couldn’t go five feet without tripping over someone or something. The someones were mostly thieves intent on getting at Grae.
Tran grew increasingly frustrated as he moved and people blocked his path. He started shoving people to one side, no longer interested in being thoughtful as he fell further and further away from Grae. Never mind that he knew where the man was going, it was him getting there safely that was the issue. Worried, he popped up on his toes to see better over the crowd. Ah, there he was. Tran could catch him if he cut through that gap in between the wagons.
At that moment, the unthinkable happened. Two beefy men with more brawn than brains tackled him, hitting him hard in the stomach. Tran gave an oof as all of the air left his lungs and staggered back a step. He fell into a guard stance automatically even as he studied the two in open confusion. These weren’t pickpockets, or the garden variety of thieves, so why were they blocking his way?
They gave him no chance to ask questions, just came at him, one of them aiming for the purse in his inner vest pocket. If they thought that he couldn’t handle the two of them at once, they were dead wrong. Tran’s fists lashed out, hitting them both in the solar plexus, driving all the air from their lungs and sending them flat on the ground. They fell so hard they took at least one other man with them, a baker who lost half of the bread on his tray to the cobblestones.
Tran eyed them with a squinty glare. “You two are guildmates with all of these pickpockets, I take it.”
One of them gave a groan that sounded like a yes. At least, Tran took it as a yes, because there was no other sound reason for anyone coming after him like this.
If that was the case, then Tran sent a prayer heavenward that this was a small guild. Otherwise he was going to have quite the fight on his hands.
Of course he had barely finished the thought when he heard the two men he just felled talk to someone else in a loud voice. A loud, whining voice. Daring a look over his shoulder, Tran felt his heart sink. The guild was large enough to have even more enforcers and they had their eyes trained on him, hands already flexing and reaching for weapons. It was no longer a matter of him having two purses on him. It was a matter of revenge.
He was in for it now.
Chapter Four
Tran returned to the inn an hour later sporting a few new bruises and vowing up and down that he would never, ever, let Grae out alone. He was worse than Sylvie. Sylvie, at least, realized what could happen to her and took precautions. Grae was so lost in his own thoughts that the world around him could explode and he wouldn’t notice.
His blood was up, partially because of the fight, partially because of frustration, so of course he walked right into another vexing situation. Two men were flanking Sylvie on either side, basically pinning her against the bar. Tran could tell she had no idea what to do about this, as she had a bundle in her arms but no weapon in sight.
“That doesn’t look good,” Grae said, sounding nervous and worried.
He was inclined to agree, but it could be that it wasn’t as serious as it looked. Sylvie wasn’t hurtling insults or screaming for help, so it could be the men were just being determined flirts. Tran decided to test the waters by calling out first, “Sylvie?”
Her head snapped around, eyes lighting up with relief. “Husband!”
That answered that question. Tran put a hand on Grae’s shoulder and ordered brusquely, “Go straight upstairs.”
“I’ll get Siobhan.” Grae immediately bolted for the staircase.
That wasn’t at all what he’d meant, but Tran wasn’t about to correct him, as someone would likely need to alert the guildmaster what was going on. Weaving through the tables, he went directly to her side, extending an inviting hand as he did so. “Come, wifey.”
Sylvie lost no time in accepting that invitation. She went directly into the circle of his arm, her own wrapping around his waist, nestling into his side like a kitten. Tran folded his hand around her shoulders and gave the men a flat, unamused stare.
One of them looked crestfallen, the other suspicious. Before they could think too hard on it, Tran flapped a hand dismissively at them. “Shoo.”
Discouraged and disappointed, they turned and left, flinging one last look at her as they went.
Sylvie huffed out a breath, sounding relieved. “Thank the heavens you came in when you did.”
“How bad was it?” he asked, concerned.
“They were just reaching the point where they weren’t taking ‘no’ as an answer. Always bad when that happens.”
It was then that he noticed her hair was wet, and the bundle in her hands was dirty clothes wrapped up with a towel. “You were in the baths?”
“I was,” she confirmed. “Fei escorted me down, but I think I got out too fast, as he’s usually waiting for me in the hallway. By the time I realized he wasn’t out yet, they’d caught me, and I was stuck.”
Just a case of bad timing, then. Tran was loathe to let her be until Fei was back out, as Wolf was still upstairs and probably asleep by now.
Siobhan came thundering down the stairs, took them in at a glance, and all of the tension abruptly left her shoulders. “It looks like you have things well in hand here. No fighting?”
“They lost heart pretty quickly,” Sylvie explained then beamed up at Tran. “Our signal worked wonderfully.”
“It did,” he agreed, returning the smile. “Siobhan-maee, I have her. Go back to what you were doing.”
“Bless you, Tran, I will.” Siobhan promptly went back up the stairs without a backwards glance. That action alone stated clearly just how much she trusted Tran. It warmed his heart that not for a moment did she d
oubt him.
“If you want to go up, I’ll take you,” Tran offered. “Or if you want to sit down here, in front of the fire, we can wait for Fei to come out of the baths.”
“That might take a while,” Sylvie warned. “Fei’s addicted to soaking in hot baths. I think it’s a carryover of his culture.”
“I don’t mind.” He truly didn’t. “I haven’t had a chance to hear about where you come from, or how you joined Deepwoods.”
“Oh, that’s true. Well, I have questions for you as well, and it’s true that sitting by the fire will help my hair dry faster.” That settled the matter with her, as she left his side and went directly for the two-seater bench in front of the fire. Sitting sideways, she tucked one leg up underneath her knee, placing her back to the fire.
Tran tentatively settled in next to her, ear cocked to make sure that the wood would support his weight. When he didn’t hear any ominous creaking sounds, he settled in more securely. “So how did you come into Deepwoods.”
“You never did get the story on that, did you?” Sylvie idly ran her hands through her hair as she talked, shaking out the locks to help them dry a little faster. “I’m from Coravine, Orin. Do you know much about the place?”
“Only rumors.” Not good rumors.
“It’s just as bad as they say it is. The economy has never been good, and making a living there is very difficult, so I decided at an early age that I wasn’t going to stay there. My parents were very, very against it, but I got on a ship as soon as I turned eighteen and headed for the nearest port out of Orin. That happened to be Converse. I was there in the city for about two months, but in truth, it was difficult to get hired there. And I didn’t like that there wasn’t a guild in control of that city. I’d heard good things about Goldschmidt, and knew of several reputable trading guilds based in the city, so I went there to try my luck.” She lifted a shoulder in a shrug as if this story wasn’t anything spectacular. “There were several positions opened on the job board, and I applied to a few places, but then I met Siobhan. Deepwoods just seemed to have everything I was looking for. There was a female guildmaster—rare in and of itself—and two men that were kind by nature. I don’t think Grae could hurt a fly unless severely provoked.”
Origins: A Deepwoods Book - a Collection of Deepwoods Short Stories (Deepwoods Series 0) Page 20
