Her eyes skipped across the rest of the room. Jarnsmor had indeed deployed some of his men to help—she recognized four of them—and it seemed they were competent fighters. In fact, the battle looked to be more or less over, as bodies littered the ground in every possible position and very few were still standing and fighting.
Grinning, she took a few quick steps forward and slammed her sword hilt into the back of one greasy head, sending the man slumping to the floor with a gasp of pain. Rune looked up, startled that his opponent had so suddenly collapsed, and found her smiling at him. “Hey!” he protested with an unhappy scowl. “Yer not supposed to come.”
“Fight’s over,” she pointed out. “And as your guildmaster, I can be anywhere I please.”
“Always stubborn like that,” Tran mourned.
Another crunch of broken bones came from behind her. She half-turned to see that Wolf had finished the last Silent Order guildsman with the flat of his sword. Also with a scowl on his face, he stepped over the gasping, injured man and strode to her. “Siobhan,” he growled between clenched teeth, “the fight was not over yet.”
“Shilly-shally,” she negated with a careless toss of the hand, sheathing her sword. “My, you boys were effective. I can’t believe they really showed up like you predicted, Fei. I felt sure they’d learn from their mistakes.”
“Matter of power, it is,” Rune explained. He looked more resigned than upset over the situation. “Guildmaster can’t let a man go and have him join a good guild like I did. It sets the idea in other’s minds they can do the same.”
Which meant that a dark guildmaster would potentially lose most of his people, as the benefits of belonging to a good guild far outweighed being in a dark guild. Besides, it was probably a matter of sheer stubbornness at this point, too. Rune was supposed to suffer a terrible fate after having failed to obey orders, not luck into a better situation.
Rune turned to Tran and thumped his heart twice with an open palm before bowing his head. Tran blinked, not at all expecting to have Rune properly thank him using Teheranian manners. Siobhan felt a little surprised to see this too, but she knew the source of the young Wyngaardian’s sudden etiquette—Fei. He had indeed been paying attention to Fei’s lessons on how to treat everyone in Deepwoods.
Tran, after that startled reaction, relaxed into a slight smile and gave a bow back. Then he reached out and clapped Rune on the shoulder in a comradely gesture, which made Rune smile back at him.
Turning, Rune looked to Fei next and offered, “We will drink and speak of this later.”
Fei’s eyes crinkled up in silent approval. He folded his arm against his ribs and extended a free hand, which Rune mirrored before accepting the hand in a firm clasp.
Only then did Rune turn to Wolf. She watched with bated breath. Her stubborn enforcer had watched Rune properly thank each man in their own ways for their help tonight. Rune was honestly trying, but would he see that for what it was and accept it?
Rune seemed to take in a breath before saying quietly, “Heill ok sael.”
Wolf stared at him for a long second before lifting his right hand in acknowledgement, but he did not return the greeting, simply turned away and started to help with the cleanup.
Siobhan resisted the urge to go over and kick him. Stubborn, boneheaded, crepehanger! After everything Rune had done, he still couldn’t trust him? She stole a peek at Rune’s face, but he didn’t seem disappointed or surprised at Wolf’s reaction. Well, she shouldn’t have been either. It was easier to get the sun to change its course than to change Wolf’s opinion on something.
Sighing, she gave up on that for the moment and went to help clear bodies away.
Siobhan didn’t like ships for one specific reason: ceilings.
She wasn’t a giant, not like some women from Teherani could be, but she did have an unusually tall stature for a woman. In fact, she could look most of her men in the eye with the exceptions of Tran and Wolf, her two giants. Most of the time her height came in handy, but whenever she boarded a ship, she had to hunch over to avoid hitting her head on the ceiling, or the top of the door jambs. It was one of those things that she remembered the first six times and forgot the seventh, so she always landed with some sort of bruise on her head.
After smacking her head on the ceiling three times, Siobhan gave up and went to the foredeck. It might be colder there with the sea breeze, but at least she wouldn’t land on Orin with bumps on top of her bumps.
Tran and Wolf quickly followed her example and retreated to the forecastle, the only possible place for them to really sit without being in someone’s way. She’d seen them smack their heads more times than she had, so it didn’t surprise her they chose cold over pain. She put her back to the railing, sitting cross-legged on the wooden deck, and looked out over the sea. Even though they’d only been on the ship for an hour, she could barely see Wynngaard as a thin line in the distance. Her nose twitched at the strong scent of salt and tar. Still, an itchy nose was preferable to being down below.
Without a word, Tran sat on one side of her, Wolf on the other, and between the two of them they blocked the wind quite nicely. She shifted into a more comfortable position and smiled in satisfaction.
“Shi-maee.”
“Hmm?” She turned to look at Tran.
“What do you expect to find? In Orin.”
“I have no idea,” she admitted frankly. “At this point, I’m not sure if anything could surprise me. Maybe whatever reason that drove the Coravine guild to attack Blackstone is very obvious and we’ll see it once we’re in the city. Or we might need to spend days looking and asking questions before we figure it out. I don’t know. It’s just that my gut is telling me that there’s something important we haven’t figured out yet.”
He grunted understanding.
Silence passed comfortably between them as they sat there with their own thoughts. Siobhan let her eyes rove over the ship. It wasn’t the largest merchant vessel she had ever seen, but it had a good size to it. Jarnsmor hadn’t put them on a cheap, flimsy ship to say the least. At the speed they were going, she’d say they’d arrive in Orin about lunchtime. (Fortunate, that; Fei and ships didn’t exactly get along where food was concerned.)
Wolf craned his head to look toward the bowsprit at the very front of the ship. “Those two look like seagulls.”
Siobhan shifted about to look. Heh. He was right. Fei and Rune were balanced on the edge of the bowsprit, not seemingly disturbed by the idea that dropping into the ocean at that angle would certainly get them killed. They were animatedly talking about something, Rune’s hands rising to illustrate some point he was making. The wind blew and snatched away their words before she could hear them, so she hadn’t the faintest idea what subject had ensnared them so.
“I’ve noticed that Fei talks to Rune often,” Tran noted slowly.
“They’re kindred souls, those two,” Siobhan said with a smile. “They both like high places. I wonder if they were birds in a previous life?”
Wolf shook his head slightly. “It’s not that.”
Her eyes cut to him. Oh? That sounded like a knowing tone. “What?”
“I asked Fei about it. He said that Rune reminds him of himself.”
Tran blinked at him. “Eh? How?”
“That’s as much as he said.” Wolf gave a shrug.
Rune reminded Fei of himself? Fei had said that before, but she still didn’t see the similarity. Those two were as different as day and night except their preference for high places and general sneakiness. Or at least, it looked like that to her on the surface, but in truth, there was a great deal that she didn’t know about both men. Rune’s past was a complete mystery to her aside from him belonging to a dark guild. He didn’t trust her enough to share his secrets and she hadn’t yet figured out whether she should ask or not. Sometimes old wounds bleed anew if they’re prodded at.
Fei, in many aspects, was just as much a stranger. He’d been in the guild for eight years, and was o
ne of the older members, but he’d never once told her why he was so far from home. He never had anyone contact him from Saoleord, either. He’d been eighteen when he’d come to her, which was a very tender age to be alone in a foreign country. She’d been willing to take him in just because of his youth, but he’d proven to be a good fighter when Wolf tested him, so she hadn’t adopted him as a member on sympathy alone. As time passed, she had learned not to ask about his family or find out more of his story. Clearly, it was too painful to talk about. It might always be that way.
She watched the two sneaks sitting out there chatting avidly with weighing eyes. They were similar, huh. Now there was food for thought.
“You should trust Rune,” Tran announced firmly.
At first Siobhan thought he said that to her, but when she looked up, she found his eyes locked with Wolf’s. Oh, now this was interesting. Tran was trying to change Wolf’s opinion on Rune?
Wolf’s brows slammed together and a tic developed at his jaw. “I don’t want to hear that from you. And since when did you come up with that, anyway?”
“You should trust him,” Tran repeated stubbornly. “Did you know that he checks in on every person before he goes to bed himself? He does it again after he wakes up, too.”
Siobhan sat up abruptly. “How do you know?”
“Fei told me,” Tran answered her patiently. “I don’t know how he knows, though. All I know is, Rune’s honestly concerned about every person in the guild. That boy has been sleeping with an eye open ever since we took him on. He’s dealt with threats we didn’t see.”
Hooo…and here she thought Wolf’s senses of danger were too sharp to miss anything. She glanced at him and found him frowning.
“How far out is he patrolling?” Wolf asked slowly.
“Farther than you are. Whatever you set the limit at, he goes out further.” Tran’s tone remained carefully neutral as if, for once, he wasn’t trying to challenge Wolf or start a fight. “I think he’s afraid to lose Siobhan.”
“Because we’re safe to him, and he’s never had that before,” Siobhan translated his unspoken words with a long, exhaled breath.
Tran tapped his heart twice in quick agreement. “Wolf. That boy’s no danger to us. You have to treat him as guild, or the next time we’re in a fight, your eyes will be in the wrong place.”
Wolf held up a hand to stay him. “I know, I know. I realized Conli was right in that. But what are we supposed to do with him?”
“We’re not going to do anything with him,” Siobhan interrupted. “Remember? It’s his decision where to go once we are through Island Pass.”
Both men gave her a dumbfounded Is she kidding? look.
“What?” she demanded in exasperation. “Did I miss something?”
Tran looked up at Wolf. “Usual wager?”
“I don’t take sure bets,” Wolf denied. “Bet with Sylvie or Markl.”
“They wouldn’t bet with me either,” Tran complained.
“That’s because it’s a sure bet.”
Siobhan grabbed both of Tran’s cheeks with her hands. “You either cough up an explanation, or your smile is going to grow a lot bigger.”
He grabbed her wrists and pushed her hands down easily, eyes twinkling in laughter. “Shi-maee, you think that boy is going anywhere? After all you’ve done to win him over?”
She thought about that for a second. Then thought about it again. “…What are we going to do with him?”
“You see it now, eh.” Wolf shook his head. “That kid isn’t going anywhere. You just got adopted by an assassin.”
“It’s because you fed it,” Tran told her mock-seriously. “I told you not to feed everything that comes to you. They just end up staying.”
“Now what was I supposed to do?” she riposted, playing along. “He was hungry. And he needed a nice place to sleep after being neglected for so long.”
“Yes, but now that he knows you’ll feed him, you won’t be able to get rid of him.”
“There’s truth,” Wolf muttered to himself. “So, Siobhan? What are you going to do with him?”
“I guess we keep him.”
Wolf rolled his eyes heavenward in a clear plea for patience. “What are we supposed to do with an assassin?”
“I would suggest being nice to him, unless you want to be murdered in your sleep.”
Tran laughed. “That’s a start.”
“Will you two be serious?”
“No,” she and Tran said in unison.
He dropped his head into one hand and shook it in resignation.
“Siobhan-ajie!”
She twisted around and craned her neck to look up at Fei, who had risen up to his knees in order to call to her. “What?”
“Come up.”
Huh? He sounded perfectly serious—unusual for him—and the way that his eyes never deviated from the horizon said without words that she needed to see something.
She put a hand on her sword hilts to keep them out of her way as she grabbed the edge of the railing and hauled herself upright and over, clambering up to where Rune and Fei sat. Rune gave her a hand up for the last foot, which she took, and he hauled her easily to his side. Sinking onto one knee, she looked at him briefly before turning to the direction Fei stared at.
Oh.
Oh.
Finally, finally this was starting to make sense.
In front of her incredulous eyes, stretching out over the water, was a bridge. It was like the Grey Bridges connecting through Island Pass. She could barely see details from this distance, but it was obvious that it wasn’t that far along. It only went out about a span or so. Not as massive as the bridges it was obviously copied from, but sufficiently large enough for trade.
Pieces started to click into place. Siobhan felt like swearing but couldn’t think of any words strong enough to fit the situation. She could barely tell what it was. In fact, if he hadn’t pointed it out, she’d have never spotted it.
“That thing looks like it’s only about four or five months old,” Fei told her. “It’s not big enough to have been there any longer than that.”
“It’s bei’n worked on even now,” Rune added. Pointing a finger, he tried to draw her attention to the right area. “Ya see there, at the end, that trail of ropes? I see people hauli’n stones and such.”
Their eyes were better than hers, then.
Wolf rose to his feet and called to them. “What is it?”
She waved for him to wait and had the boys follow her back to the forecastle to avoid shouting over the wind. Once they were there, she answered Wolf numbly, “There’s a bridge being built from Orin’s shores.” The full situation was still sinking into her mind. “It’s quite large, or at least it looks that way, although from this distance it’s hard to tell.”
“A bridge?” he repeated. He whipped around, one hand rising to shield his eyes from the sun. “I…can barely see it.”
“If Rune hadn’t pointed it out, I certainly wouldn’t have.” She sat there like a bump on a log, staring at the bridge. That bridge was a game changer. “Tran, call the others up here. We need to talk about this.”
It took barely a minute to call them up. She sat heavily, the others following suit and finding space on the decking to sit as well. When they were settled, she looked at the curious faces surrounding her. In short, clipped tones, she explained what she’d seen.
Fei and Rune joined her, adding in a few details that she hadn’t been able to make out over the distance, but which they apparently could. Just how good were their eyes, anyway? When they were done, they sat in a circle and just stared at each other, minds whirling.
It was Sylvie who broke the silence with a long sigh. “I get it now. This is a war of finances. They barely have the funds as it is to build a bridge with. But a trade monopoly between three of the most influential guilds in Robarge and Wynngaard would be economically devastating.” Sylvie steepled her hands in front of her, obscuring half her face. “And with no trade s
pecialty to offer, they have little bartering power to change the situation with.”
“I’d have more sympathy for them if they weren’t sending assassins after people,” Siobhan growled irately.
Sylvie grimaced agreement. “Still, their initial plan is not wrong, a direct connection to Wynngaard will help them a great deal.”
“I’m not sure if that is truly the case any longer, not after what they did,” Markl disagreed. “Iron Dragain is the trading guild of Wynngaard. They unofficially set policy for all the trade on the continent. Framing them for an assassination has not endeared Orin to Iron Dragain.”
Sylvie’s open palm acceded the point. “It was a poor choice.”
Siobhan sighed. “I wish we knew which guild it was that is actually over all of this. We know the bridge is being built from Coravine, but is that simply because it’s the shortest distance to Wynngaard?”
“Even if this isn’t Fallen Ward’s idea, I can’t imagine that they aren’t a major part of the planning,” Sylvie volunteered. “You don’t build something near someone else’s city without their approval and help. Fallen Ward is the only guild of any influence in Coravine; it must be them.”
“Does it matter if it’s them or not?” Denney asked, scratching at one cheek with an idle finger. “I mean, the bridge isn’t really an option anymore, right?”
“Even if the bridge is no longer a usable option, I think Fallen Ward will be forced to continue down this path.” Sylvie sounded unhappy with her own words. “Bridge or no, a trade monopoly will cripple them. Orin already struggles economically. They can’t afford any loss in trade.”
As a native of Orin, and Coravine, Sylvie would understand that better than anyone.
“So what do we do?” Rune asked.
Siobhan made a split second decision. “This doesn’t change our immediate plans. We still go into Coravine and find out the guild that’s behind all of this. But we gather more information about the bridge as we go. We need to know how much time it’s going to take to build that thing and just where they’re trying to build it to. We’re here to get information, not make decisions that will affect the four continents.” Fortunate, that. She didn’t even begin to want to make those kinds of decisions.
Deepwoods (Book 1) Page 26