Deepwoods (Book 1) (10 page)

Everyone stirred, half-surprised at his answer. Even Siobhan
hadn’t expected that. She’d always assumed Conli as Denney’s father. “Niece.”

“You know I come from a family of apothecarists on Island Pass?”
he asked. “Well, we often took goods and supplies to Quigg or Converse,
distributing them there. My brother went to Quigg, I went to Converse, usually.
But then one day he said he was tired of going that direction and asked to
trade. I didn’t think anything of the request and switched with him.” Conli’s
face twisted into a bitter smile. “For ten years I didn’t think anything of it
or why he avoided Quigg entirely. Then one night, he and my father got too far
into their cups, and started talking. I discovered my brother had tangled with
a Teheranian woman in Quigg, leaving her with child. I was outraged that he had
so casually abandoned her there.
Here
, of all places! By doing that,
he’d consigned both of them to a life of either drudgery or prostitution. He
knew that. He
knew
that.” Conli’s eyes closed in a pained manner. “I
argued with him, my father, my mother, begging them to at least go get the
child. They wouldn’t.”

“And then?” Hammon prompted quietly as Conli stalled.

“I left the family.” Conli looked at him with sad eyes. “Our
relationship wasn’t good to begin with, as I liked to study surgery, which they
thought was beneath our family. But knowing that I had a niece or nephew out
there, abandoned to the world, when that child should have had all the benefits
and protection of my guild…I couldn’t live with that. I packed up and went to
Quigg. It took me three months to find her.”

“My mother had been sold to a brothel after having me,”
Denney picked up the story quietly, although she didn’t release her hold on
Conli. “I was ten, turning eleven, when Conli found me and bought my freedom.
My mother felt she deserved to be there, so she wouldn’t leave. No matter how
we pleaded with her, she refused to go. So I left with him instead.”

“We haven’t heard from her since,” Conli admitted with a
heavy sigh. “I try to check up on her whenever we pass through the city, but
it’s so easy to lose people here. I haven’t heard a word about her for the past
decade. Anyway, after I had Denney, I knew we couldn’t stay anywhere in
Wynngaard. It was too dangerous for her. So we went east instead, into
Robarge.”

“We stayed in Converse for a while, but we didn’t like it
there so much,” Denney admitted. “And then we went on that trip to Goldschmidt
with a caravan, the one that Deepwoods was an escort for.”

“And you were so welcoming to her, so kind, I couldn’t help
but think it was the right place to stay,” Conli finished heavily. “The rest
you know.”

Yes, so she did.

“I’m sorry,” Denney whispered. “I’m sorry. We should have told
you before this.”

“You should have,” Tran agreed. Stepping forward, he stroked
her head in a gentle sweep of the hand. She looked up at the gesture, startled
by it, only to see him looking back at her with kind eyes. “If you had, Denney,
we’d have known how to protect you better. You’d never have been threatened by
those men.”

“We understand why you didn’t, though,” Wolf added softly.
His mouth curved in a sad way, empathy and dark memories chasing their way
across his face. “At first, you were scared to say anything, right? Because you
don’t want to bring your past with you when offered a fresh start on life. And
then, this new life is so warm, so bright, that you feel like you can’t say
anything. In time, the fear of losing everything you have gained clogs your
throat, so that you can’t bring yourself to say a word at all.”

That rang with the voice of experience. Siobhan watched him
as he spoke, seeing the sincerity in it, and realized that in this regard he
and Denney were exactly alike. She’d never thought it necessary, but at this
moment, she needed to treat Denney as the wounded soul she was. As they both
were, as Conli had sacrificed much in order to save his niece. Stepping
forward, she wrapped her arms around both of them, which likely squished Denney
in the process. The girl didn’t utter one word in protest, though.

“You…don’t think less of me?” she asked in a threadbare
whisper.

“Never.” “No.” “Of course not.” Several voices protested at
once.

Tears started streaming from her eyes as she raised a hand,
hugging one of Siobhan’s arms to her.

“What is this?” Beirly demanded, reaching out and wiping the
tears away with a thumb. “No tears, girl. It unsettles a man, it does. Tran,
did you properly squash whoever it was that hurt our Denney?”

“At the time, I thought I had.” Tran cracked his knuckles
into an open hand. “I’m thinking I might have left the job half-finished now.”

“Well, you were in a rush,” Beirly mock-consoled him.
“Wanting to get her to a safe place first, and all. It’s fine, we’ll go settle
it properly a bit later.”

Denney started giggling, a watery half-choked sound. “You’re
not really going to destroy their business or something, are you?”

“Wolf’s the expert on breaking buildings, not me,” Tran
protested.

“I’d best go with you, then,” Wolf volunteered in a dark
rumble.

Siobhan eyed the three and wondered just how serious they
were, or if this was just an attempt at some light hearted jesting to put
Denney at ease. Then she saw the way that Fei eyed Denney, and the hard set to
his jaw, and realized that every man in the room was truly planning on
dismantling that brothel later tonight.

Right then and there, she decided not to ask. In fact, she’d
pretend she hadn’t noticed that little exchange between her enforcers.   

“Thank you.” Denney’s voice was soft, still a little muffled
against Conli’s chest, but it carried throughout the room. “Thank you, Siobhan,
Tran, Hammon, for coming to my defense even though you knew nothing.”

“We knew you didn’t belong with them,” Tran assured her.
“And that’s all we needed to know.”

Siobhan’s street rat informants came through with the
confirmation she needed in just one day. The missing party
had
gone
through the city without mishap and were sighted leaving through the north side
of the city, for all intents and purposes heading toward Sateren, as they were
supposed to. While this was good news (Siobhan did not want to search for them
in this crazy, confusing city), it also confirmed a dark suspicion she had been
harboring in the back of her head. Whatever had gone wrong had happened either
close to or inside of Sateren.

And if it had been severe enough to wipe out a party of sixteen
people, her own party of ten didn’t stand much of a chance.

Siobhan started mentally planning for the worst even as she
hoped for the best.

Her team of stone gatherers did not manage to find 3,150 stones
to satisfy the picky Grae—she hadn’t expected them to—so the next morning, they
all trooped out to help finish the task. This was just as well, as she had no
intention of sending Denney out again unless the whole guild went with her.
Today especially, the girl stuck close to them, as if afraid of a repeat of
events. From the protective stance that Conli and Tran assumed, they were
itching for a fight with those men.

She felt sorry for anyone that tried to tangle with Denney
today. Well, almost.

Siobhan bundled up against the morning cold, rubbing her
gloved hands together briskly as they went well outside the city limits and to
the place where Grae had started building his path. She noted the location with
interest—it was near a seaside beach, no doubt so he could draw directly from
the ocean’s power, but far enough away from it he didn’t have to worry about a
tide sweeping his hard work away. It was rather a picturesque place to put a
path, actually. The grass grew thick and lush here, ending rather abruptly near
the ocean and becoming grey rock instead of sand. The ocean looked blue from a
distance, but the closer she came to it, the more it seemed green to her. Her
nose wrinkled at the smell, which seemed very pungent and salty at first whiff.

Grae stood on the edge of the rocky beach and directed
people to different spots like a general deploying his troops. She good-naturedly
went where he pointed, hunkered down in the rocks, and started sifting through
pebbles. What had he said the size was, again? The size of a kor? Something
like that, anyway.

Wolf and Hammon were within arm’s reach of her, and they all
unanimously found a flat rock to put their finds on instead of trying to hold
everything in their own hands. Siobhan had to watch her footing, as the rocks
here were cold and smooth, and one careless step would send her sliding into a
sharp, uncomfortable bed. She shivered now and again as a breeze came in over
the ocean. “It is my imagination, or is that sea breeze making the air colder?”

She hadn’t directed her words to anyone in particular, and
it was Hammon that turned enough to answer over his shoulder, “It is. At least,
it feels that way to me.”

“Was it like this yesterday too?”

“Worse,” he assured her with a dry smile. “I think the cold
spell is passing.”

 “How many did Grae say he needed again?” Wolf asked.

“Another two thousand and something,” Siobhan answered, not
remembering the full number either.

“2,673,” Hammon informed them, eyebrow quirked.

She gave him an interested study. “You
do
have a good
head for numbers, don’t you?”

“I learned it at my father’s knee.”

And did well at it. Hmmm. Come to think of it, this was the
perfect opportunity to dig a little into his past without being obvious about
it. After all, the only way to pass the time was to talk. She opened her mouth
to ask him a question, but Hammon apparently realized the same thing at the same
moment, as he beat her to it.

“So, Wolfinsky, how did you come to join the guild?” Hammon
asked with sincere interest.

“You’re wondering how a Resken ended up so far south, aren’t
you?” Wolf replied with a wry twist of the lips.

“It’s very rare to see your people outside of Reske for any
length of time, much less choose to live elsewhere,” Hammon pointed out.

“True enough. Alright.” Wolf sat back on his heels, hands
draped over both knees, so that he could look directly at Hammon as he
answered. “Hammon, are you asking for my story?” The words were oddly formal,
as if part of a tradition.

Hammon picked up on the nuance as well because he abruptly
straightened, much more focused than he had been before. For that matter,
everyone else also went still, drawn to this discussion between the two men.
Even Siobhan turned her full attention to it, despite having heard this story
once before and being a major part of some of it.

The scholar felt the weight of everyone’s attention but he
answered steadily, “I am.”

“I am Erik Wolfinsky of Reske. It was there I was born and
there I grew until I came into my fourteenth spring. At that time, I was
captured by a band of slavers.” Wolf’s eyes darkened in memory. “I was not the
only one taken. I was, however, the only child that was not recovered. The
slavers that took me paid dearly for their stupidity, as my village hunted them
down, but two managed to get away with me in tow. To this day, I’m not sure
how, as I was heavily drugged throughout the journey. I was sold to the
mercenary guild in Wingate shortly after and there I stayed, fighting in every
conflict that Wynngaard and Robarge had until I was nineteen. My life there was
darkness. I lost my heart, my hope of returning to my home, and was in danger
of losing my very soul before fate took an unexpected turn. It was in a bloody skirmish
between two major guilds in Land’s Point that I lost my hand.” He held up his
right iron hand in a silent illustration. “The mercenaries who owned me deemed
me unfit to fight, useless, and so dragged me to the black market as soon as I
was semi-healed. Because of my missing the hand, I was being auctioned for a
very low price.” At this, Wolf let out a bleak smile. “Fortunate, that. I’m not
sure how things would have turned out otherwise. But Siobhan, Grae and Beirly
saw me by chance at the auction and recognized my heritage. Out of pity,
Siobhan bought me and took me back to the guild. I didn’t know what to make of
her, at first. Here was this beautiful woman, barely younger than I, who
treated me with unreserved kindness and sympathy. My size alone scared her, I
could see it sometimes in her eyes as she spoke to me, but never once did she
shy away. She gave me the option of staying and working off the money she’d
spent on me, or taking me home to Reske and letting the village reimburse her
instead. I chose to stay.”

Hammon blinked. “Why not go back?”

“Oh, I did,” Wolf assured him, smile becoming more genuine.
“Siobhan wouldn’t hear of it otherwise. We stayed for a good month, too,
visiting. But I owed the woman a debt I might not ever be able to repay. It
wasn’t just the money she spent on me—she rescued me from a hellish life
without thinking twice about it. This, on top of being a brand new guildmaster!
I stayed to protect her, to return whatever I could. Beirly made up the hand
for me as soon as my arm fully healed, and it helped me regain the strength I’d
lost.” Wolf held it up and looked it over thoughtfully. “Actually, for combat,
it’s even better than the flesh and blood hand. After the first year of being
in the guild, I came to realize that I wouldn’t leave it by choice. I’d forged
a strong bond with them, and I wasn’t suited for a quiet village life anymore,
not after experiencing life in a good guild. I was born in Reske, and it will
always be a part of me, but my home is Deepwoods.” With the same formality he
had used at the beginning, Wolf ended with, “That is the story of Erik
Wolfinsky.”

Hammon didn’t quite seem to know how to respond to this.
Finally, he managed, “I thank you for the telling.”

“Ooh, good response!” Wolf clapped him on the shoulder—with
his left hand, fortunately—and grinned. “You’re close to what should be said.”

The scholar canted his head at this. “So there really is a
proper thing to say? What is it, exactly?”

“It was a fine telling, and I thank you for it,” Wolf
responded as if quoting something.

“I shall make note of that,” Hammon promised. “But formality
aside, yours is an incredible tale, Wolf.”

Those clear blue eyes softened. “Siobhan made it incredible.
If she had not taken a chance on me, my story would be a tragedy.”

Beirly came in close enough to knock into his shoulder with
a gentle thump of the fist. “What are you on about, man? Without you,
our
stories
would be tragedies.” To Hammon, he explained, “Wolf’s saved our skins more
times than I care to recall. All those years as a mercenary sure have paid off,
to my mind. I’ve never seen a man that can get the drop on him, although Tran’s
tried for it a time or two.”

Tran grumbled and growled to himself. Everyone ignored him.

A grin split Wolf’s face from ear to ear, but he tactfully
didn’t take advantage of the moment and rib Tran any. (Siobhan would have boxed
his ears if he had.) To Beirly, he said, “Like you haven’t done the same for
me? For that matter, Siobhan’s saved my skin a time or two, as I recall.”

Siobhan snorted, well knowing what he referred to. “The
first time, you had that terrible ear infection that wouldn’t let you stand
upright without swaying. And you still fought two men off in that condition!”

“Still saved me,” he retorted, an outrageous twinkle in his
eyes.

“And the
second
time,” she directed this to Hammon,
as he was following all of it closely, “his foot got tangled up in a thick rope
that was dragging him quickly to the bottom of a lake. I dove in and cut him
free. But the reason he was being dragged down to begin with was because he
jerked me out of the way before
I
could get tangled up in it. So I don’t
think that properly counts.”

“It counts,” Wolf defended mildly.

Siobhan rolled her eyes. “As you can see, the only chance we
ever get to return the favor is when the nigh-unthinkable happens and a string
of bad luck hits Wolf so strong that he can’t save himself. But that’s happened
a whole three times in the past ten years he’s been with the guild.”

“I don’t mind this trip down memory lane,” Grae cut in,
still perched on the edge of the beach where he sorted through his gathered
stones, “but can you people work while talking?”

With good-natured grumbling, they went back to the task at
hand.

“Speaking of…” Wolf raised his voice and called to Grae,
“Will this be done tonight?”

“I doubt it!” Grae responded, pausing just long enough to
answer the question. “You might be through gathering, but it’s going to take a
bit longer to build the path.”

“In that case,” Wolf turned back to Hammon, “tonight we need
to spar.”

Hammon nodded ready agreement. “Of course. After all, the
situation is becoming more dangerous the farther north we go.”

Oh, so he’d caught on to that, had he? “Hammon, you’re from
a large guild, aren’t you?”

“I am,” he confirmed, although his tone sounded slightly
wary.

Siobhan itched to ask him a slew of questions, but that
reaction made her think he didn’t trust them with his whole life history yet.
So she bit back a good half of them and went with what she truly needed to
know. “Then you’ll know how this works better than I would. Is it possible for
a sizable party of guild members from a foreign guild to enter a city without
attracting attention?”

“No,” he responded immediately, without even needing to
think of the response. “There’s too many other guilds that would notice that
and report it to their guildmaster.”

She’d assumed as much. “The information couldn’t be lost on
its way up the chain of command?”

At this, he did hesitate and think for a moment. “I highly
doubt it. My guildmaster doesn’t rely on just one person to report everything
to him. He meets regularly with all of the different masters of the guilds and
gets information directly from them. I understand that this system is common
and how most large guilds operate.”

“Mmmm.” She let out a sigh. “In that case, we’ve really only
got two options. Either they really didn’t make it through Sateren’s gates, or
they did.”

“And we’re dealing with betrayal,” Wolf summed up darkly.

“Which guild were they supposed to be meeting with?” Hammon
asked. “You said the main guild of Sateren, so I assume it’s Iron Dragain?” At
her nod, he gave a thoughtful hum and sat back for a moment, focusing on
speaking. “They’re well-known to be good business partners. They have a
reputation for being fair at trade and generous in their dealings. I can’t
imagine that they would betray another major guild like Blackstone. I can’t
even think of a good reason to do so.”

“I can’t either,” Siobhan confessed. “It’s just a dark
possibility that Denney voiced and I can’t get it out of my head. I’m hoping
I’m wrong. I’m hoping that we’re not dealing with a large guild out for our
blood.” The trip to Sateren was hazardous enough without dealing with that
threat. “But it begs the question, if it’s not that, what happened?”