Deepwoods (Book 1) (19 page)

The blood just drained from Knives’ face. Attacking caravans
or old village leaders, that he could do without a qualm. But attacking a large
guild was a serious taboo. After all, a guild that influential and powerful
could track down any dark guild and raze it to the ground without breaking a
sweat. Worse, any good guild of the city would help them do so, because they
didn’t want a dark guild in their territory to begin with. “…Daughter?” he
repeated faintly.

Siobhan gave him a sweet, sympathetic smile. “How about this
as a fee? I won’t say ‘Silent Order attacked your daughter and subordinates’ to
Guildmaster Darrens. I’ll just leave it as ‘a dark guild of Sateren.’ I’ll also
make sure to tell him it was a guild from Orin that hired you without telling
you any specifics.”

Knives gave a jerky nod. “Pl—ahem. Please do.” With a bow to
her—an actual bow this time—he spun on his heel and disappeared, no doubt
heading straight for his own guildmaster to report this conversation. At least,
if he had any wits, that’s where he
should
be heading.

Siobhan saw Rune give her a strange look and she quirked a
brow at him. “Yes?”

“I get it now. Why they made ya the guildmaster.” A smirk
broke out over his face. “Ya can be scary when ya have a mind ta.”

Wolf snorted. “Kiō, you have no idea. Alright, let’s
go. This information needs to get back to Lirah, and quick.”

As they traveled back to Vakkiod via path, Siobhan’s head
swam with information and questions. What was the endgame? She turned it over
and over again in her mind, occasionally shaking it at different angles, but it
still didn’t add up.

Iron Dragain attacking Lirah’s group hadn’t made any sense
to her. Granted, Siobhan hadn’t a good culprit in mind, as attacking the party didn’t
have any rhyme or reason to it that she could see. But a guild from Orin hadn’t
even registered as a
possibility
.

Why would a guild from Orin even care what two guilds on
different continents were planning?

She had thought that if she just knew who attacked Lirah,
then all of the pieces would fall together. So why did she feel that she had
simply exchanged one set of questions for another?

As soon as she had her feet back on Vakkiod soil, she went
straight to her temporary house, calling, “Sylvie!”

Markl appeared in the doorway. “She’s not here. She’s
speaking with Lirah.”

Perfect. Siobhan reversed directions and went toward
Lirah’s. She could hear Markl jog to catch up.

“Wait, what did you find out?”

She shot him a quick glance over her shoulder. “I want to
only say it once.”

She found both women sitting outside, heads close together
as they conversed quietly. At her approach, they stopped and looked up.

“Siobhan, what did he say?’ Lirah asked, half-dreading the
answer.

“You’re not going to believe this.” She wasn’t sure if she
fully believed it, although she didn’t doubt the veracity of the facts. With
hands braced on both hips, she said plainly, “A guild from Coravine, Orin
ordered the attack.”

She was met with stunned silence.

Heaving a long sigh, she admitted, “That’s how I feel about
it.”

“Who?” Lirah demanded, rising to her feet in a sharp
movement.

“That’s as much as I know.”

“Why?”

“That’s as much as I know,” she repeated. “Sylvie, I’m
waiting for you to make sense of this.”

The woman gave a helpless shrug. “I’ve got nothing.”

Siobhan grumbled, “Wrong answer. Lirah? What were you sent
to do
exactly
? I can’t imagine that assassins would be sent after you
over a simple trade agreement.”

“There’s nothing simple about it,” Lirah admitted. “In fact,
trade negotiations are to be between Iron Dragain, Blackstone, and Silver Moon.”

“My father’s involved in this?” Markl demanded
incredulously.

Lirah’s eyes cut to him. “Oh? Then you are from
the
Hammons?
Yes, he was invited to the talks some weeks ago. I understand that Guildmaster
Hammon himself is coming.”

“You didn’t know?” Wolf asked.

“I haven’t had any contact with my family in two months at
least,” Markl explained. He looked disturbed. “I had no idea of any of this.
What are the odds that he’s already arrived?”

“Quite good,” Lirah assured him. “I was actually delayed in
leaving.”

Would that matter? Siobhan couldn’t help but wonder. Silent
Order lived in Sateren. They could just keep watchers on the city’s walls and
attack when their target was within range. It reminded her of an unwary fly
entering a spider’s web.

Of course, Lirah didn’t know the attackers came from
Sateren. Siobhan couldn’t explain, either, considering the promise she had
made.  

Well, best not to borrow trouble. Markl’s father could well
have made it safely to the city without mishap. If she had only known he was
mixed in with this, she could have asked Knives. Tch. Why did she always
realize
after
the fact what she should have done?

“Lirah, I’ve a mind to move to Sateren today, if your men
are able.” Seeing her about to protest, she cut in firmly, “Right now, no one
but enemies knows you’re alive. So either Iron Dragain thinks Silver Moon has
done you in somehow, or Silver Moon suspects Iron Dragain. Either way, it’s not
a good situation and we best not let it stew.”

“Well, I agree with you, but they’re not up to a three hour
ride in a wagon.” She bit her lip in agitation. “Although I suppose I could go
alone, leave them here to recuperate and follow later.”

The Ahbiren would have a fit if he heard
that
idea.

“What about a trip by path?” Grae pressed. “I finished one
yesterday.”

From within the depths of the house came a deep, gravelly
voice, “Miss Lirah, we have the strength for that.”

Lirah glanced back, visibly hesitant.

Wolf, seeing that, ruthlessly added more pressure. “The
guild that attacked you was ordered
not
to kill you, to just rough you
up. But the situation has changed.”

“The true mastermind behind the attack is basically known,
so the original plan of framing someone has failed,” Lirah finished heavily,
shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world rested there. “It’s only a
matter of time before our nameless enemy realizes this and switches to a new
plan, which might not leave us with our lives. That’s what you mean, isn’t it?”

Siobhan could only nod grimly. “We have a small window to
get under cover. Iron Dragain is our nearest refuge.”

“Miss Lirah,” a female voice from within the house called
weakly, “we must go.”

Lirah looked off blankly into the distance for some time.
With one hand raised in surrender, she capitulated. “Siobhan, send word ahead.
Have Iron Dragain guard us as we go into the city.”

Not a bad thought, that one. “Will do. Rune, Grae, let’s go
back.”

Wolf made a noise of protest.

“Yes, yes, you can come too.” Wolf still didn’t trust Rune
out of his sight, eh? Or maybe it was the idea of her going into a city with
known assassins lurking in the shadows that made him paranoid.

Either way, they all were a little safer in larger groups.

They made the return trip by path and were back in Sateren
within minutes. This time, Siobhan tried to mentally rehearse what to say, how
to approach explaining all of this to where it would make sense and not take a
lot of time. She didn’t pay strict attention to where they were going, trusting
Rune to lead her there safely.

At least, she didn’t pay attention until they ran smack into
a tall, imposing gate of black iron that barred their path.

Two tall, very daunting men in black uniform stepped
forward, hands on sword hilts, and demanded in near unison, “What business do
you have here?”

Siobhan stepped around Rune to answer, “I am Siobhan Maley,
Guildmaster of Deepwoods and spokeswoman for Lirah Darrens of Blackstone. I
must speak with your guildmaster. NOW.”

The guard on her left looked confused by this rattling of
names, but the one on the right clearly recognized enough to understand the
urgency. His eyes widened and he nodded once before spinning around sharply, calling
to the guards on the other side of the gate, “Open the gate! Let them through!”

As the tall gate slowly swung open, Siobhan’s eyes caught
the crest wrought in the middle. She recognized the dagger with the dragon
twined around it very well. Oh. Rune had taken her directly to Iron Dragain’s
main compound? Well, that was the best option, she supposed.

The guards let her through, one pair splitting off and
escorting them across the compound. Siobhan took in the place with glances as
she tried to match the quick pace the guards had set. Like every other section
of this city, the compound didn’t have any spare space. Buildings were crowded
against each other, so tightly that a person could barely squeeze in between. Most
of them were built of the same grey stone, the roofs black and sloping along
the edges before rising to a sharp peak. The whole place reeked of
intimidation, which she rather expected out of a Wynngaardian guild.

Also in accordance with Sateren tradition, the paths leading
in and around the buildings had more curves and switchbacks than the wrinkles
on an old woman’s face. Siobhan’s sense of direction got lost after the third
turn, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that it would take a guide to
get her back to the main gate again.

Oh? This building looked different. And by different, she
meant larger. Instead of a small building crowded in, this one sprawled in
every direction, rising a full two stories, with a smaller version of an iron
gate around it. Guards also stood here, forcing her to repeat herself nearly
verbatim. This time, they didn’t immediately let her through but called for
someone to come.

It took a few minutes, but eventually a middle-aged man with
a dignified bearing and slight limp came down the short staircase and to the
gate. Siobhan judged him to be the majordomo just from his attitude alone.
Well, the prominent crest on his coat and the high quality of his clothes
influenced that snap judgment too.

“I am told that a Guildmaster of Deepwoods seeks audience
with Guildmaster Jarnsmor,” he said in perfectly flawless Robargean.

“I do.” She took a step forward. “I am Siobhan Maley of
Deepwoods. I carry a message on behalf of Lirah Darrens of Blackstone.”

His brows twitched together either in a gesture of disbelief
or interest, she couldn’t quite tell which. “Forgive me, but do you have
identification on you?”

She pulled out the Deepwoods seal from a pocket and flipped
the leather flap open so he could see it.

He verified it with a brief, but thorough scrutiny. “But you
say Lirah Darrens? We expected her some time ago but have not seen anyone from
Blackstone.”

“She was ambushed before she could arrive,” Siobhan informed
him grimly. “Within sight of
your
city gates, no less.”

He blanched at this. “You jest…no, I can see from your
expression you do not. She is well?”

“I wish I could say so, but no. Most of her party is heavily
injured. Sir, I must speak with your guildmaster as quickly as possible. Lives
are at stake here.”

“Nortin is my name, Guildmaster Maley. I will take you to
him.” He nodded to the guards, who quickly unlocked the gates and ushered them
through.

Nortin, for a man that had an obvious bad leg, could move
like lightning. Siobhan had to once again lengthen her stride in order to keep
up. He pushed through the main door and inside of the building without pause,
leading them from strong daylight into much dimmer lighting. Siobhan had to
blink several times to adjust her vision to this cool interior.

She had the impression of smooth, polished wooden floors and
white stucco walls before Nortin took a sharp left, into a room that branched
off the main hallway. Siobhan followed him in only to stop abruptly at the
doorway. When Nortin said he would take her to his guildmaster, he hadn’t been
kidding. This had to be the man’s personal study. There were floor to ceiling
bookshelves dominating one wall, a massive desk that sat squarely in the middle
of the room, and a small gathering of wooden stools around an oblong table that
took up the other half of the room. The table had been completely overtaken in
paper and maps, with a slightly older man leaning over the surface. He looked
up at their entrance, dark brows drawn together in a frown of confusion.

“Nortin? Who’s this?”

“Guildmaster Siobhan Maley of Deepwoods, Master Jarnsmor.
She comes to speak with you as Lirah Darren’s Voice.”

Oh, was that the proper way to say it? Siobhan mentally noted
that even as she took in Jarnsmor with frank appraisal. So this was the most
powerful man of northern Wynngaard, eh? He certainly looked the part. His
pepper-grey hair spoke of age, as did the harsh lines around his eyes and
mouth, but there was nothing weak about the rest of him. His black eyes were
sharp, shoulders broad, and his clothes did nothing to hide the powerful
muscles of his arms and thighs. If someone told Siobhan that this man was
capable of splitting boulders with brute strength alone, she would believe it.

“Lirah Darrens?” he exclaimed, voice booming out at an
almost deafening volume. “Guildmaster Maley, have you an idea of where she is?”

“I know exactly where she is.” Siobhan concealed a wince as
her abused ears protested. “Sir, there is much that needs to be explained and I
will happily do so, but right now I need an escort of your strongest men.
Lirah’s party was ambushed by assassins and they are gravely hurt. They need
refuge.”

“They have it,” he granted immediately, without a second’s
hesitation. “Nortin, arrange a guard of fifty men. Guildmaster Maley, do you
judge that to be sufficient?”

She judged that to be overkill but wasn’t about to say so.
“Thank you, yes.”

Nortin gave a short bow before disappearing from the room.

“Where are they?” Jarnsmor pressed, coming around the table
to speak with her more directly. “You said ambushed? Where?”

“They are in Vakkiod, and yes, ambushed. In fact, Lirah was
within sight of Sateren when they were hit.”

Jarnsmor couldn’t conceal a wince. “In my own front yard? By
who?!”