By this point, the guards weren’t even trying to stay at their stations. They were sticking to one wall, but were moving back and forth to talk to each other, no doubt in a last ditch effort to stay awake. Rune just had to wait for the opportune moment when two guards met at the same corner at the same time. As soon as that happened, he dropped down from the roof and quickly struck, knocking both men out so quickly they couldn’t get more than a gargled gasp of surprise out.
He propped them up against the railing, turning their heads so it looked as if they were talking to each other, with efficient speed. He’d done similar things countless times before. With them settled, he had a clear exit. Rune reached up, grabbed the sack, and hauled it down before darting across the exposed area and to the other side of the courtyard. Once there, he lifted his burden up first before climbing after him, making practically no sound as he did so.
Rune’s nerves were stretched thin as he did this—they always were—his ears straining for every whisper of sound to alert him. But there were no shouts of alarm, no whistling of weapons being thrown his direction, and he did not pause. A man that stayed still in this situation opened himself up to discovery. Rune had learned to move fast and find cover first, then check if he was in trouble of being discovered. The timing usually worked out better that way.
He stuffed the guildmaster through the first window he could find, sliding in after him, then shut it quickly. Leaning just inside, he took the first full breath he’d dared in the past hour. Only then did he allow himself a glance below. No, the guards hadn’t realized anything was wrong yet. If he moved fast enough, before their shift ended, he’d be able to get out of this labyrinth compound before the alarm was raised.
Rune quickly discovered that hauling something out of the compound this time would not be quite the same as his experience last time. Last time, the woman that he had helped out had been cooperative. After all, her survival had depended on Rune getting her out. This time, he had a very unwilling bundle that he was dragging along with him. It took considerable strength and concentration on his part to keep a hold of the kid.
Even knowing the route, and the schedule of the patrols, it still took him an hour longer than it should have to reach the outer wall of the compound. Rune was hypersensitive to the time. It was already predawn. Rune had no idea what time the little guildmaster was usually awoken. Or when someone would notice his absence. He had to assume that he only had a half an hour at the most to get out of the city before they would lock it down. With that in mind, he stretched out into a ground-eating lope and tried to cover as much distance as possible. The sky was a dark grey, and the air still had the chill of the night. Most people were still in bed with only a few out and about. With such little traffic on the street, he was able to move freely.
Before Rune reached the gate, the kid woke back up and immediately started kicking. If he wasn’t an enemy, Rune would have admired his fighting spirit. As things stood, he was just a pain. He didn’t have time to knock the kid unconscious again, as it would require taking him back out of the sack. Trifle hard, knocking people out blindly. Instead, he rearranged the bundle he was carrying. Rune slung the sack casually over one shoulder, then wrapped it around his chest to where one end was over a shoulder but the child’s legs were tucked underneath his other arm. He mostly did this because he did not want to carry a squirming package through the gates. Surely someone would think to question that.
When he reached the gates, it turned out that his precaution was unnecessary. The guards in the gatehouse did little more than glance in his direction, verifying that someone was leaving at this impossible hour of the morning, before they went back to chatting and drinking their morning tea. Rune rolled his eyes in despair. If this had been Guildmaster Darrens’ city, those guards would be flogged for their dereliction of duty.
Well, he shouldn’t complain when his enemy was making a mistake. Rule number five and all.
By the time that he had gotten water from the channel, the sun had risen just enough to where he could use a path. It was still shaky, and if he had had to carry more than two people he likely would not have risked it. But he dared not linger any more than he already had. Flask in hand, he dropped a splash of water on each steppingstone as he opened up the path and traveled back to the bridge at Channel Pass.
Once there he decided he might as well unload his captive from the bag. Partially because he was afraid the child would suffocate. With a distinct lack of gentleness, he dumped the boy onto the ground while shaking the bag. When he was free, Rune tossed the bag aside, no longer interested in keeping it. The boy’s face was quite a mess. He had apparently been crying during the entire trip. Tears were streaming out of his eyes, the rag was soaked with tears and snot, and his skin was blotchy and flushed. He was obviously terrified out of his mind. Rune tried to dredge up some sympathy but did not succeed.
“If you promise not to talk or scream I will take the gag out.”
The boy guildmaster seemed to think about this for a second before giving a hesitant nod.
Rune leaned down long enough to roughly yank the gag’s knot apart and pull it away. He waited a moment, but apparently the boy was wise enough to realize that if he broke the deal, the gag would go right back in. He did not so much as peep. Satisfied, Rune picked him back up and slung him over the other shoulder. This time he did not run over the bridge as he had done previously. He was tired after days of nothing but catnaps and running about in enemy territory, so he set his pace at a fast walk and maintained that.
It took longer to cross the bridge, of course. In fact it was past high noon before he made it back onto Robargean soil. But from there he was almost home free. Rune gave his back a break by setting the boy down on the grass while he fetched water from the channel. He was half tempted to untie the boy’s legs and have him walk along the path, but in the end decided it was a bad idea. If the boy had the use of his legs then he would likely try to make a run for it. Or he would start kicking Rune. Neither of those tactics would get the young guildmaster very far, but Rune was not in the mood to deal with it. So instead he slung the boy like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder and carried him along the open path to Goldschmidt.
Once they arrived, Rune spoke for the first time in several hours. “Well kid, we’re here.”
For the first time, the boy dared to speak. His voice was thin and reedy and wavered like he was tempted to start crying all over again. “Where is here?”
“Goldschmidt. The city that you ordered looted and burned. The city that I defended from your men. As you can see, it still stands.”
“What will happen to me here?”
“That’s up to my guildmaster to decide.” In a moment of brutal honesty, Rune added, “My first choice was to kill you. I don’t know what she will choose to do though.”
“I don’t want to die!” the kid blubbered, earnestly crying now.
“Save it. None of us do.” Rune could not wait to hand the boy over to Siobhan. He’d had about as much of him as he could stand.
Besides, he was hoping that with a live sacrifice, his guild would go easy on him.
Rune had not come back the next morning. Nor the next day, nor the next. When four days passed and he had still not returned, Siobhan felt like her theory about where he had gone, and why, was validated. No one in the guild doubted where he was or what he was doing. The only real question was if he would survive the homecoming. Everyone was more or less willing to punch him by the time he came to the door. The only two who seemed to be wavering on that was Siobhan and Denney. Siobhan was torn between hugging him and punching him dead in the face. Denney was just worried out of her mind. She was more likely to hug him than anything else.
Siobhan couldn’t sleep at night, for worry. She would toss and turn and wake up bleary eyed. On the third night, she gave up trying to sleep at all and got up, going down to the main room of the inn. The fireplace was down to embers, and she stoked it up, throwing a few log
s on before settling into a wide armchair. A blanket around her shoulders, she curled into the chair and stared blankly into the flames.
Rune. Bloodless. A dark guild assassin turned Pathmaker. Her adopted brother, a Maley. Rune had many definitions but most of the time Siobhan didn’t think of any of them. She simply thought of Rune as Rune, her friend. A wildly unpredictable friend, but that description could apply to most of the guild.
After Ryu Jin Ho had confirmed her worst fears, Siobhan hadn’t needed to ask another question. She had known, in that moment, why Rune had gone. To protect all of them, he had thrown himself headfirst into danger without blinking. It would have been heartwarming if she didn’t want to strangle him so badly.
“Siobhan.”
Startled out of her thoughts, her heart nearly leaped into her throat. She was twisting out of her chair on pure instinct when a hand she knew well landed on her shoulder and pushed her back. “Shh, sorry, I startled you, didn’t I?”
Putting a hand to her chest, she tried to keep her heart in place. “You did,” she told Wolf frankly. “Why are you up?”
“Because you’re up,” he answered simply.
The answer made tears burn in her eyes. Siobhan had felt the fool before, for not realizing that he loved her, but now more than ever. How could she not have seen it, when he did things like this?
“You’re worried about our boy.” It wasn’t a question. Wolf sank on his haunches next to her, hand still on her shoulder, giving warmth and comfort.
Siobhan nodded uselessly. “I feel like I should go after him.”
“Siobhan…” Wolf warned.
“I know. I know I can’t. And it hurts that I can’t.” Until the words burst free, she hadn’t realized what emotion was burning and throbbing in her chest. But it was that, more than anything—her inability to help when Rune needed help the most. Even if he had put his fool self into such a dangerous situation.
Wolf’s hand moved an inch along her shoulder, as if he intended to bring her into his embrace, and then he stopped short.
She was confused for a split second before she realized why he stopped. She’d been so skittish around him the past several days, avoiding touching him at all, because of her new awareness of him. Now he wasn’t certain how to offer her any comfort as the old patterns were thrown off. Some part of her still felt that awkwardness as she didn’t know how to respond to him still, but more than that, she needed him in that moment.
Siobhan reached for him, arms going around his neck, head on his shoulder. He relaxed into the embrace with something that could have been a sigh, drawing her in closer.
“He’ll be fine, Siobhan,” Wolf whispered against her hair. “Kiō’s part cat, he’ll show up when he’s of a mind to.”
“If he doesn’t, I’ll murder him myself,” she promised.
“I’ll help,” he soothed.
Without asking, he shifted her so that he could squeeze into the chair as well, then pulled her into his lap. Siobhan went without protest. On a different day, when she wasn’t so tired and wrung out, she might have protested. That hadn’t been resolved yet, and until it was, taking advantage of him like this was not at all kind. But she was tired, beyond that, exhausted. To her sleep-deprived mind, it was easy to rationalize things. She hadn’t asked, he’d offered, and she wasn’t going to fight him on this.
She let her forehead rest in the crook of his neck, taking in a deep breath, his clean, masculine scent filling her head as she did so. Siobhan let the breath out slowly. There was a time, not so long ago, that she would not have questioned this position and probably have fallen asleep against him. Now, she was too aware of him to do so. Still, she found this moment perfect. It was exactly what she needed.
He was what she needed.
Siobhan’s eyes half-opened as that thought penetrated. Wolf was exactly what she needed. When her heart was troubled most, it was him that she turned to. Every time. It seemed that she had finally found her answer to Grae’s question. He was right—her heart had known it all along. Although that still left Sylvie’s question.
“So,” he asked in a quiet rumble, “mind telling me why you’ve been so skittish the last few days?”
And how did she respond to that without making things even more awkward than they already were? “Sylvie asked me a question I don’t know how to answer.”
“A question about me?”
Wasn’t that obvious? She answered anyway. “Yes.”
“What was the question?”
No. She was not telling him that, especially while ensconced in the man’s lap. “When I figure out the answer, I’ll tell you.”
He seemed to weigh that for a moment. Wolf wasn’t one to let things ride. If he had to choose between lettings things go and pressing the point, he usually chose the latter. But this time, mercifully, he decided to not push her for an answer. “Promise?”
“You’ll be the first to know,” she vowed.
Wolf put a chaste kiss against the crown of her head. “Good enough for the moment. Come on,” he urged softly, lifting her to her feet as he stood. “We both need to be in a bed. Asleep.”
If they had stayed in that moment a little longer, she wouldn’t have minded. But perhaps he was right, her heart had gone through enough turmoil for tonight. Still, she didn’t completely release him as she normally would have done. Instead, she wrapped both of her hands around one of his, leaning her head against his arm as they walked up the stairs.
Siobhan could feel a line of tension in the way that Wolf carried himself, as if he weren’t sure why she was acting like this or how to respond to it. After several days of her not touching him at all, it would seem very strange for her to suddenly cling to him instead. Even she couldn’t offer an explanation of why she was doing it.
When they got to her room, she forced herself to let go, and gave him a wan smile of thanks before slipping inside. The door shut behind her, Siobhan took the first natural breath she had all night. “Heart, thank you for the answer,” she whispered to herself.
Now if her hormones would just cast a vote, then perhaps she’d know what to do next.
ӜӜӜ
When the fifth day dawned, people more or less kept an eye over their shoulder, expecting Rune to waltz in at any moment. Of course, they were still steadily building on the new hall. Their worry and frustration with Rune had not stopped their progress. The framework for the guildhall had been constructed, and today they were working on adding a roof.
It was amazing what a group of dedicated people could get done when they put their minds to it. Beirly had pessimistically calculated that it would take them a solid two months to rebuild the guildhall. But to Siobhan’s eyes it appeared he was wrong. They were already three days ahead of the schedule he had laid out for her. It was probably because people were picking up a knack for construction better than Beirly had anticipated. Not everyone had the skills for it, but they were good at focusing on the parts they had a talent for, and between nine people they had enough skills to get the job done.
“Siobhan.”
Siobhan whirled around so fast that several bones in her neck cracked. There, standing framed in the front door, was Rune. Her first impression was that he looked tired, filthy, and perhaps a little thinner. He seemed to have a young child thrown over one shoulder, but before she figured out why he had carted a kid here, she needed to focus on him first. She had honestly wondered if she would hug him or punch him first, and it was not until that moment that she realized the answer. Without a moment of hesitation, she went straight to Rune and punched him hard in the gut.
Of course, Rune could have easily dodged it, but he didn’t. Instead he winced, before grimacing a smile at her. “Guess I deserve that.”
“It’s good that you feel that way,” she responded with a saccharine smile. “Because I think every person in the guild has vowed to punch you at least once.”
This time he looked more nervous. And for good reason. After all Tran, F
ei, and Wolf could pack quite the punch.
She eyed the child that was still on his shoulder with open confusion. “I thought I knew where you went and what you were doing, but I must be wrong. Where did the child come from?”
As if remembering, Rune slung him off his shoulder and set him down on his own feet. It was only then that she realized the child’s hands were bound. The more she saw the situation, the less it made sense. What child could possibly be a threat to Rune?
A hint of mischief danced in Rune’s eyes, as if he were about to pull an elaborate prank. “Siobhan, you might want to sit down.”
She stubbornly remained standing. “Who is he?”
It was not Rune that answered her, but the child, and in the most haughty tone that she had ever heard.
“I am Alexander Alfred Bertrand Jonquil III, Guildmaster of Fallen Ward. I demand that you return me immediately.”
For a split second, Siobhan was sure that the child had suffered some sort of head injury. Everyone in Robarge had debated on the identity of the guildmaster for Fallen Ward. But a child had never been seriously considered for the obvious reason that having a child rule would be madness. She glanced up at Rune’s face and that was enough to tell her that the child was not lying to her. Rune looked at her steadily, not surprised by what the child said, nor trying to deny it in any way.
Which meant that it was true.
Siobhan truly regretted not sitting down first. She had to lock her knees to keep upright. The silence stretched as she tried to figure out what to respond to first.
It was Conli, always a voice of reason, who stepped forward. “My name is Conli Roroana. You say that you are the guildmaster for Fallen Ward? Not the heir of that guild?”
Alexander-whatever’s expression became outraged. “I am the guildmaster.”
Siobhan had more or less been experiencing a headache ever since she discovered that Rune had gone missing. But at this conversation, she felt like an ice pick had been driven through her temples. “Rune. From the beginning.”
Fallen Ward (Deepwoods Saga Book 3) Page 12
