Blackwood Marauders

by K. S. Villoso

  The door creaked open. He turned his head, expecting Roena, although it was still a little too early for her to have come back. The sight of Treda and Hana at the doorway filled him with confusion. Were they there to kill him? He could see his sword on the windowsill, but he made no move towards it.

  “Ah, shit, Lucky,” Hana said. “We heard what happened back there. I’m sorry.”

  He stared at her in disbelief.

  “Everything got all fucked up at that inn there,” Treda added. “With Demon and Tasha and the job…we should’ve gone with you.”

  “Wouldn’t have done a thing,” Luc murmured. “Would’ve been too late, either way.” He cleared his throat. “What are you doing here?”

  Hana made a face. “We heard Roena was looking for us. Found out where she was staying and got here before—well, before things got worse. See…Tasha met up with Jona again. With both of you gone, we needed the people, and she wasn’t happy with losing him in the first place, anyway.”

  “He was the one who bragged about what he did, too,” Treda said. “Didn’t sit well with me. Fucking ass.”

  Luc straightened himself. “Then you shouldn’t be here. He’ll kill the both of you.”

  “Yes, well, about that…” Hana began. “Bit too late. I might have called his mother names.”

  Treda grinned. “That’s putting it lightly.”

  “How was I to know he actually loved his mother? He didn’t seem like the type. Fuck, I didn’t want to do that to Tasha but…she’s not thinking clearly about this whole thing.”

  “Well, if both of you had come clean with what was happening in the first place, maybe none of this would’ve happened,” Treda sniffed.

  “I thought we were past the blame games.” She sighed. “And Demon’s not happy about the whole thing. I almost think Tasha decided to take her chances with Jona again just to keep him in line. Like I said, it’s all fucked up now.”

  “And then there’s that job…”

  “That job. Right.” Hana’s face tightened. “I wanted to tell you myself. The man they want us to kill. It’s Iorwin.”

  “Duke Iorwin,” Luc repeated. “Roena’s father.”

  “The one and the same,” Hana breathed. “Tasha told me. The others don’t know yet, but I don’t know how long that’ll last.”

  He could feel his mind starting to clear. “That must be why Ylir wanted us to participate in Iorwin’s little game in the first place. I was wondering what he had to gain from all of that.”

  “He wanted us to attract Duke Iorwin’s attention naturally. Successfully complete an operation…”

  “The ka-eng,” Luc said. “They work for him. I wonder if they had anything to do with the creature?”

  “Makes sense now, doesn’t it?” Hana shook her head. “I asked around. None of the other mercenaries found anything, not even a shadow. Even Duke Iorwin himself wasn’t expecting results…the whole thing was a front so he could convince lumber companies to give the forests another chance. But we go up there and stumble across the motherfucker right on the first day.”

  “Windroost, too,” Treda broke in. “Maybe they really did need those journals, but why not kill two birds with one stone? You know what was waiting for us as soon as we strode in here two days ago? Glorious reports of the monster we killed. No details—no mention of you or Roena or the Dageians. Just us. The Marauders.” He sniffed at the name.

  “And now of course, as Ylir yn Garr and Lady Isobel have expected, Duke Iorwin’s eyes are on us,” Hana finished. “He’s summoned us to his castle a few days from now. That’s when we’re supposed to strike.”

  “We have to stop this,” Luc said.

  Treda grimaced. “I don’t know, Luc. Even with Roena on board, that makes just four of us against the rest of them.”

  “You both said you wish you’d gone with me to help with my father. We can’t let Roena’s suffer the same fate.”

  “What can we do?” Hana asked. “Seems like they’ve been working for months to set this up.”

  “Where did Tasha meet Lady Isobel?”

  “I can show you where she’s staying, but I don’t know what good that will do. Do you really think they’ll step back just because you asked nicely?”

  “No,” Luc said. “But I have to try.” He reached for his sword and strapped it on. A split second was all it took. Jak’s upbringing—his father had taught him to never turn his back on anyone in need. So even as his mind and grief struggled to weigh him down, his body moved on its own. If he couldn’t offer prayers for his father, he could still do this, could still try to do what was right.

  It seemed easy enough against the haze of sorrow and tears. Courage came in all forms, and sometimes it took the simplest one: the decision to take a step forward when you’d rather just curl up in a corner and do nothing at all.

  Lady Isobel’s inn was two streets away from the Royal Palace, where Luc had betrayed Roena to her betrothed not that long ago. The stairway leading up to her private suit was unguarded. Luc hesitated at the first step, before turning around to Hana. “Stay here,” he said. “Keep an eye out for things.”

  “Be careful,” Hana whispered.

  He tightened his grip on his sword as he went up and kept his hand there as he knocked at the door.

  He wasn’t sure if he was going to get a response. It was the middle of the day and the lack of guards told him that Lady Isobel must be somewhere more important. But then he heard the door open, and he found himself staring right at the woman. She gave a smile. “Have you come to show me why Roena Blackwood is so fascinated with you?” she asked.

  Luc’s mouth dropped open.

  “Although I suppose I don’t want people accusing me of robbing the cradle,” she crooned, pulling him into the room. She closed the door behind him. The only light was coming through the window, and it took Luc’s eyes a moment to adjust. Her bed was in disarray, and she herself was wearing clothing that looked like it had been hastily put on.

  She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. “You’ve come here to talk about the job, I presume.”

  “How did you think I was going to respond when I found out?” he asked.

  Lady Isobel smiled. “It was the job from the very beginning. How were we to know that Roena Blackwood would find it in her fool head to join the operation, or that you’d be so smitten with her?”

  “Why do you need Iorwin dead? What did he do to you?”

  She shook her head and clicked her tongue. “You’re still so fresh. I thought you would’ve known the whole not asking questions bit by now.”

  “I came here in good faith. I could’ve told the guards about this.”

  “Without proof?”

  “I could’ve found a way to turn this thing upside-down. But I’m here. You could kill me with your bare hands if you want to, but I’m here.”

  Her eyes sparkled, as if she saw the glimpse of truth in his words. “So you are,” she said. “Why is that?”

  “That’s my crew you’ve got working for you. I don’t want them slaughtered.”

  “Interesting. Didn’t one of them just kill your father?”

  The reminder felt like a dagger to his heart. He gritted his teeth against the pain. “There’s others.”

  “And you care for them? These mercenaries?” She peered at him. “My. It does seem like you’re telling the truth. Interesting. Scum of the earth, these people, and your father not even in the ground yet…but here you are, risking your life in the off chance that I’ll…what? Take pity on your crew and decide Iorwin’s death won’t suit me after all?” She tittered.

  “It’s not personal,” he said.

  Isobel’s eyes twinkled. “I’m sorry?”

  “Whatever your problem is with Iorwin. It’s not personal. Roena told me about your history. About your special…situation. How you’re trying to gain legitimacy and have your father’s lands taken from Rohn Beeching and granted to you, as you believe is your right.”
/>
  “Not as I believe,” Isobel snorted. “As is my right.”

  “So it is. You don’t really want Iorwin dead. You just don’t want Rohn Beeching to have a cheap supply of lumber.”

  Isobel smiled and didn’t say anything for a moment. She went up to her desk where she poured herself a glass of wine. She took another glass and offered it to him.

  “No, thank you,” Luc said.

  “I’m not going to poison you.”

  “I just figured out your plans. Poison is a possibility.”

  She tilted the glass against her lips and took a long drink. Licking her lips, she said, “So you did. Well-done. More than I expected a farmboy to have come up with. What are you doing with this sorry group?”

  “I failed the military exam. They said I overthought things.”

  Isobel laughed. “Well. Let me congratulate you. You would be wasted under King Elrend.” She swirled the glass in her hand. “Of course I don’t want Beeching to get lumber for dirt cheap. He’ll use it to build ships and get his army to a problematic size. Even if King Elrend acknowledges my claim, I still have to take it from him. Hafed law is very clear about these rifts between the gentry.”

  “So you’ve partnered up with Yn Garr Industries.”

  “They’ve promised me a share of the profits if I can somehow make Beeching get their lumber from the city-states. Imagine defeating him with an army he paid for.” She took another drink, a smile on her face.

  “You people…” Luc began. He sighed. “So it’s not Iorwin’s death that you or Yn Garr Industries really wants. You just want his contract with Beeching to go away.”

  “Mmm, you’re hitting each mark. Don’t let me stop you.”

  He frowned. “If he dies, Roena takes over Blackwood.”

  “Easy enough for Ylir to convince her to tear up that document and get Beeching to do business with Yn Garr Industries instead.”

  “She’s not that gullible.”

  “Isn’t she?”

  “She’s not.”

  She smiled against her cup. “Seems like you’re not as perceptive as I thought you were. But then again, perhaps you didn’t want to see how she looked at him. Ylir’s got your princess all wrapped up around his little finger. I’m surprised she didn’t drop you at the first opportunity to come running after him. Womanly pride, I suppose.”

  He flushed. “We’re not talking about this.”

  “Oh, I think we are. Don’t tell me you love her already.”

  “The contract. That’s all you want. What if I make it go away without killing Iorwin? Will that be enough?”

  Isobel remained smiling. “I do hate funerals,” she said, after a moment. “Draigar always makes these ridiculous speeches, and he’ll certainly outdo himself with this one. But everything’s already set in place. Two days from now, Duke Iorwin will meet with your crew and then…” She smiled. “I’m not sure what else there is for you to do.”

  “Two days,” Luc said. “I have two days. Promise you won’t stop me.”

  “My, you are naïve, aren’t you? I can’t promise you anything, Luc.” She crossed her arms. “But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued by what you’ll come up with. I’ll give you this much—I won’t tell Ylir.”

  “That won’t help me.”

  “No,” she said with a grin. “But he’s got a lot more at stake here than I do. If you make a mess of his plans, he won’t be merciful.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The sound of lumber being split grated at Roena’s ears, but it helped redirect her temper. She could at least pretend it was the sound that was making her angry and not the thought that Ylir yn Garr had been using her to get to her father all along.

  She thought she knew what she had been getting into. She had even praised herself for knowing exactly what she intended to get out of him. A few nights of amusement while she got under her father’s skin…she never expected a steady or even loyal lover. Their relations hadn’t even been particularly passionate—a good distraction, yes, as such things tended to be. He had known enough not to bore her, at least, though he tended to get repetitive.

  She realized that she was angry because in his own, limited capacity, she thought she had tamed him. She knew what women said about him, but with her, he had been almost…thoughtful. He had listened to her talk about her father with a willing ear. The arrogance and sarcasm took some getting used to, especially when he made light of her situation with well-practiced ease, but she had believed it was simply his way. He had listened when nobody else did. She had been convinced it meant something.

  And it stung to come to understand that in all her life, she hadn’t made one friend who cared for her just because. That she was so starved for companionship that she allowed herself to fall for Ylir’s paltry offering, thinking she had it under control—that it was fine that it was a friendship built on cynical observations about the world. She hadn’t wanted more. Maybe a little bit of transparency…he knew she didn’t like her father. If Ylir had trusted her with this knowledge, it wasn’t like she would’ve revealed his secret to the whole court the next day. She might’ve even entertained the idea of helping him.

  No. She sucked in her breath, steadying herself. She wouldn’t have. She might’ve toyed with it in the past, back before she understood death herself—before she had seen the dead farmer on the grass that night, before she had tasted the cold tears of sorrow from Luc’s lips. It was one thing to be a child and wish your father gone from this world. It was another thing to hear of a plot to take his life, to know that if you did nothing he would be dead soon. She didn’t think she loved her father, but she didn’t know a world without him.

  She saw Hana wave at her from across the yard. She made her way to the riverbank, where a low wall and a shed had been set up. “Luc was right,” Hana said, glancing at the fresh pile of uncut logs that had been dumped at the far end of the mill. “That’s the first batch. Came straight from one of the eastern villages.”

  “And they’re getting it ready for shipment.”

  “Just about. Loading them up on oxen and taking them straight to Cape Beeching. That is…if they pass inspection.”

  Roena turned to her. “What for?”

  “Fuck, Roena, you’re a noblewoman. Didn’t you have tutors?”

  “I had better things to do than listen to those old fools.”

  “It’s a good thing Luc explained this to me, then. Beeching intends to use the wood for shipbuilding, but this is a fresh source. He can’t do that until it’s been approved first.” She sniffed and pointed at an old man who was chatting with one of the workers. “You see him? Old bastard’s come straight from the Builder’s Guild in Tilarthan. I think he’s waiting for the next batch. It should arrive any moment now.”

  “And we’re supposed to distract him, is that it?”

  “That’s what Luc said.”

  “So do I flash him my tits, or will you do the honours?”

  “Roena!”

  She laughed. “I’ll do it. Yours will be saggy, anyway.”

  “I’m not as old as you think I am.”

  “You keep telling yourself that. Maybe it’ll come true someday.” She straightened her shirt and walked up to the men. To her surprise, the inspector turned to her at first glance.

  “My lady,” he stammered, his face growing red. “Lady Roena. I…I didn’t realize you were here…”

  She bit back the irritation at being noticed immediately and smiled as the man bowed to her. “You are in Blackwood, my good sir. You know how I love to keep on top of my father’s affairs.”

  The man dabbed at his face with a handkerchief. “Will your father, the venerable Duke Iorwin, be joining us today?”

  One of the workers saved her from having to fumble for a reply. “He’s busy up at the castle,” the man said. “My sister works up there. They’re holding a feast in celebration for this new enterprise. They’re expecting Duke Rohn Beeching.”

  How well h
ad Ylir timed everything? Roena was willing to guess that he had assumed a role as her father’s confidante in her absence. She noticed, too late, that the worker was still staring at her. “Is there a problem?” she asked.

  The worker shook his head. “No, my lady. It’s just that…we thought…I didn’t know you’d come back. For a while there, everyone was in a flurry after the wedding was cancelled…”

  “Silly man. I was never away.”

  “My lady?”

  She ignored him and turned to place a hand on the inspector’s arm. “My father is expecting good news, as you can see. He’s got a lot riding on this deal.”

  “So he does,” the inspector said with a nervous smile. “But I still have to do my job. The last thing we want is rotten wood to go through. We’ll have sunken ships and broken buildings before we could blink.” He laughed. “If the timber is at it should be, he has nothing to worry about. We haven’t harvested in these parts in over a century, but records indicate that there was never inherently anything wrong with the trees. If your father has found a way to cut them without the feared…repercussions…then he’s well on his way to mining the fortune your family has been sitting on for years.”

  “I see,” Roena said. “That’s all very interesting. Perhaps—” She paused, catching sight of the load of lumber being brought in by oxen. There were three wagons, all in all.

  The builder smiled, rubbing his hands together, and left Roena to direct the workers.

  “Here,” she heard Luc murmur over her ear before she felt his hand in hers.

  “What’s this?”

  “Don’t scream.”

  She felt something hard and bristling, and looked down to see a black beetle wriggling in her palm. “Have you gone mad?” she whispered.

  “I’ve got more,” Luc continued. “They’re pine beetles. We need to drop them in the split logs when no one is looking.”

  “What’s that supposed to do?”

  “Make it look like they’re infested. One or two wouldn’t be enough to fail inspection, but if they split open the logs and see them crawling everywhere…”