Blackwood Marauders

by K. S. Villoso

  “He couldn’t use me to get to my father anymore, so he decided to go right for his prey,” Roena grumbled. “Well, the joke’s on him. It’s over now. Lord Draigar, if you march right back downstairs and declare Ylir yn Garr a traitor to the kingdom, we can be out of here before the night is over.”

  Draigar didn’t move. “My lady,” he said. “I don’t know what that will do.”

  “My father will listen to you.”

  “Didn’t you hear what I said? He’s grown weary of me since—well, since you left. He thinks it was my mismanagement of the situation that caused you to flee before our wedding. I do that and he’ll have me arrested on the spot.”

  “Fuck this,” Treda said. “You mean to tell me we went all the way out here for nothing? So much for your brilliant plan, Lucky.”

  “It’s not all lost,” Luc said. “We’ve secured Lord Draigar’s assistance. This will be a lot easier now. If we catch the mercenaries in the act, there’d be no need to convince anyone. Duke Iorwin will see for himself that his life was in danger.”

  “A risky preposition,” Draigar murmured.

  “But one that’ll stop Ylir yn Garr right in his tracks if we do it well. Have you a better plan?”

  Chapter Twenty

  The first step involved outfitting Luc in the uniform of Draigar’s personal guard. It resembled the Blackwood’s soldiers’, except instead of the five trees that made Blackwood’s crest on the chestpiece it had only the emblem of a shield and a sun. A king’s soldier would have more steel on his armour, with a red tunic underneath. No heraldry—king’s soldiers were bound to the realm, not a house.

  Don’t go down that road, Luc, he told himself. Not now. He replaced one of the guards that stood watch at the door and observed Draigar return to his seat. It felt disconcerting to be seeing everyone up close. The helmet was doing a good job of hiding his face, but…

  Seeing Jona at the far end of the dining table was making him angrier than he had ever been in his life. He gripped his sword handle, allowing himself to breathe even as bile threatened to crawl up his throat. The man was drinking and laughing like—like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t just gone and butchered Luc’s father as if he was nothing more than a pig because he was angry at Luc for ruining his fun. And the others? They were eating and drinking with him, too. Demon, in the far corner. Tasha. They knew what Jona had done and yet still found it easy to sit with him, to laugh with him. Only Caiso was nowhere to be found, but Luc knew it would’ve been the same with him.

  They’d warned him, of course. He shouldn’t be so surprised. And he’d gone down this road too often the past few days—had beaten himself over and over again for making this mistake, for making all the mistakes that had led to today. He was done with that. The only thing left was the red hot rage, how his eyesight grew dim whenever he looked at the man who killed his father. If Roena’s own father’s life wasn’t in danger, Luc might’ve marched over there and stuck a sword into Jona before he knew what was happening.

  “And so,” Duke Iorwin called out, breaking the silence in the room. “The Marauders.” He held a cup of wine out.

  Tasha cleared her throat, and silence fell across the hall.

  “You’ve done a great service for the land,” Iorwin continued. “We here at Blackwood couldn’t be more pleased. To be honest, I had expected a certain amount of posturing and foolhardiness among the men—and women—who answered my call, but I didn’t think I’d find courage or quality.” He tipped his cup forward. “To you,” he said, before taking a drink.

  The mercenaries returned the gesture, some emptying their cups in one go. Luc’s eyes immediately turned to Ylir yn Garr, who was sitting in the corner with his characteristic grin. Something was wrong. Duke Iorwin was praising the mercenaries. He had heard enough about him from Roena to know this wasn’t something he did out of the goodness of his heart.

  “I called you here of course to reward you for your service,” Iorwin continued, clapping. One of the servants rushed forward with a small chest. From the way it jingled as it was dropped on the table, Luc could tell it was filled with coin. The others heard it, too—Jona’s eyes, in particular, were glued to it. “Know, of course, that this is just the beginning to what I hope is a profitable partnership for all of us.”

  “Enough small talk,” Tasha suddenly said. “Get to the point.”

  Duke Iorwin smiled. “Your particular set of skills, of course, remain valuable the further I proceed with my operations. You’ve killed two of the beasts. None of the others I’ve dealt with can boast for so much. Can you kill more?”

  “Of course we can kill more,” Jona replied. “Do you think we’re lying?”

  “No,” Iorwin said. “Of course not. But I do need assurance before I can fully give you my trust.” He clicked his fingers, and the servant returned to take the chest away.

  Jona got up, slamming his fists on the table. “You fucking maggot!”

  “Sit down!” Tasha snarled.

  “The man dangles coin right in front of us, and then dares us to prove ourselves to him?” Jona roared. “How about I do it here now?”

  Two of the guards stepped forward, swords drawn.

  Jona sneered. “Fucking cowards.”

  “Sit down,” Tasha repeated. “Or I bleed you myself.”

  He hesitated for a moment before slumping back onto the bench.

  “A rare bit of drama,” Iorwin replied. “I’ve been warned to expect it with you people. You won’t be opposed to bloodshed before the night is over then, are you? I know you’ve had a bit of drink, but this is nothing to such warriors as yourselves.”

  “What the fuck are you going on about?” Demon asked.

  Iorwin licked his lips. “There’s a grove to the north not far from here. One of these things has been lurking there the past couple of weeks. Kill it, and you can consider yourselves my own personal swords from here on. The pay will be…well. It’ll be more than any of your clients are willing to pay, I can tell you that much. And you’ll get new armour and men to call your own, besides. I need to ensure that lumber production isn’t hampered.”

  The mercenaries glanced at each other.

  “We’ll look at it,” Tasha said. “Can’t promise you anything. Some of these fuckers wouldn’t be able to piss straight.”

  “My lord,” Draigar spoke up. “It’s late. Must you really do this tonight? Perhaps in the morning…”

  Iorwin snorted. “I don’t want to make a fool in front of Duke Beeching. If I say they can do this, I need to know I’m telling the truth.” He took one last drink from his cup before rising from his seat. “It’s not far from here. Meet us out in the courtyard.”

  There was a soft murmur of disagreement, but eventually the mercenaries left the hall one by one.

  Ylir smiled as soon as they were left alone. “You handled that well, my lord. You need to be able to control them if you want to get any work out of them.”

  “What are you going on about, Yn Garr?” Draigar broke in.

  “Duke Iorwin wants everything in place for when Duke Rohn gets here,” Ylir said, tapping his wine cup with his fingers. “Is it not prudent for Duke Iorwin to make sure they are what they say they are?”

  Draigar pounded the table with his fist. “You’re the one who brought him these reports in the first place.”

  “I’ve got many contacts,” Ylir said. “I’m attempting to do business with Duke Iorwin. It’s only natural I offer what assistance I can. Is everything well, Lord Draigar? You seem displeased by me all of a sudden.”

  “I think this is ridiculous,” Draigar snorted. “Duke Iorwin, that thing isn’t a joke. You’ve seen my reports.”

  “I’ve seen your reports indeed, Lord Draigar. Why didn’t your men engage it?”

  “Because it would’ve been madness. But if you insist—then let me go in your stead, my lord.”

  “I’m not sure I trust your judgment, Lord Draigar,” Duke Iorwin said. “Not anymore.�
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  Luc could hear Draigar’s breathing against the crackling of the fire from the hearth. “Ever have I done nothing but serve you,” Draigar murmured.

  “Was it that same zealousness that caused you to accept my daughter’s proposal in this very hall?” Iorwin asked. “You know she chose you to wound me. You, who have been like a brother to me, have known more than most what goes on behind these walls. You knew it. You could’ve refused her then and there. Could’ve said you were unworthy of the honour. And you were. What could you have offered my house that I don’t already have? Instead, you took it upon yourself to make fools of us all.”

  “My lord…”

  “Enough of this, Draigar. Go, do your rounds. You were never good for anything else, but you were always good at that, I grant you. I will worry about you when my daughter returns.” Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he gestured to Ylir and strode through the doors.

  There was a brief silence as the guards turned to follow them, leaving only Draigar’s own. Luc approached him, feeling awkward in the armour. He pulled the helmet off. “He’ll have ten men with him,” Draigar said in a low voice. “His own personal guard. They would’ve considered that, I suppose.”

  “They did,” Luc replied. “At least one for each.”

  “We’ll have to ride after them, but not too close. I didn’t think he’d be able to coerce Iorwin to leave the castle so easily. He’s been working towards this from the beginning.”

  “They’re still making preparations. Give me your fastest horse. I’ll get there before they do.”

  Draigar looked at him closely. “You’d do this for her?”

  “Not just for her,” Luc replied. “For myself.” For Da.

  Draigar gestured to one of his guards. “Give him my own horse,” he said. “Go with my blessings, Luc, son of Jak. I will be right behind you.”

  ~~~

  Draigar had lent Luc Stormcloud.

  Roena couldn’t help but find it amusing. Draigar was notoriously fond of that horse—the few times Roena had stolen him in the past was enough to get him angry enough to strike her. He never did, of course, but she could tell from the look on his face that had she been a little older and not his liege lord’s daughter, he might’ve deigned to teach her a lesson or two. For her betrothed to lend one of her lovers the use of this horse in particular…

  She urged her own mount behind the puffing stallion. “That’s too much horse for you, farmboy,” she called out. “Sure you can handle him?”

  “Handled you, didn’t I?” he countered.

  She laughed, gaining speed on him. “Where are we headed to?”

  “The grove to the north. That’s where your father is taking the mercenaries.”

  “There’s a wall there,” Roena said. “With two guard towers. Practically a fort. Yn Garr Industries built it years ago. Fuck, you’ll just get us lost…I’ll show you the way.” She kicked her heels into her mare.

  “You’ve been hanging around Hana too much!” he roared as she careened ahead of him.

  She laughed again. She realized she had never laughed so much before. Loneliness seemed to be a thing of the past. Was the answer this simple all along? For her to feel like this while on a mission to save her father must mean that she didn’t really hate him at all. She hated the helplessness, the gilded cage, and the company of people too rigid to see life beyond the boundaries they’ve created for themselves. Riding like this in the night with the stars above them, the wind on her hair while Luc swore behind her…it didn’t even matter what lay waiting for them. She felt alive.

  They reached the shadow of the wall. “It’s dark,” Luc commented. “No guards?”

  “Father never saw the need,” Roena replied. She took a deep breath and thought she could detect a hint of smoke on the horizon, followed by the lingering scent of pipeweed.

  They found a quiet spot off the side of the road for the horses and went on foot the rest of the way. “Lord Draigar will get here with his guards soon enough. All we need is to protect your father and then hold them off until that happens.”

  “Easier said than done,” Roena said. “How long will you be able to hold Jona off?”

  “I wasn’t thinking of fighting.”

  “So talking—right. I seem to recall this same plan back at Windroost.”

  “Make fun of it all you want, Roena, it worked, didn’t it?”

  “Not the way you wanted it to.”

  “It worked,” he huffed.

  They reached the gate and took the stairs leading up to the towers from the Blackwood side of the wall, Roena taking two steps at a time. From the landing, she made her way across the battlements and gazed down at the shadow of the forest below. The smoke-scent was a lot more powerful here, nearly choking. She had to cover her mouth a little to breathe.

  “This structure is a lot older than I thought it would be,” Luc commented. “How long ago, did you say?”

  “My grandfather’s time, I think,” Roena replied. “Maybe older.”

  “Ylir yn Garr doesn’t look that old.”

  “He’s just an apprentice, and that’s not really his name, either. The company itself has been around for ages.” The wind was getting stronger—she could see the top of the trees bowing left and right as it rustled past. She tightened her cloak.

  “So they built it to keep those things away from the city,” Luc said, grimacing. “I can see why they’d want your father dead. If I’d done him a favour and he forgot all about it, I’d probably get a little mad, too.”

  Roena snorted. “Not that I know much about it, but I’m sure it’s not that simple. But I don’t disagree that my father’s priorities tend to get muddled. His own personality could slay a sure deal.” She paused, noticing a flash of white between the trees. She tapped Luc on the shoulder and placed a finger on her lips.

  They waited. A few moments of silence later, she saw the figure of a ka-eng emerge. She was drawing a thin piece of rope around the tree trunks, one that glowed a faint blue against the shadow of the forest.

  Luc touched her arm as he pointed to the far end of the wall. There, she caught sight of another ka-eng. A feeling of unease settled in the pit of her stomach. The ka-eng were moving swiftly, nearly dancing, as they met each other near the gate. They laughed when they saw each other.

  “Is it time, sister?” one asked.

  “It is,” the other replied.

  They came up to the gate and touched it together. It fell open.

  Behind them, Roena heard a deep groan, followed by the sight of the trees bending against the wind, now. The unease disappeared, replaced by dread. She drew her sword and began to make her way down.

  “Roena—” Luc whispered.

  She ignored him as she walked to the gate. The ka-eng saw her immediately and stopped, their thin arms in the air. “It’s Princess Blackwood,” one said.

  “How surprising,” the other added.

  “Is it, sister?”

  “Well, yes. We were told she wasn’t the reliable sort. But to see her come here to defend her father…well, that is why you came here, right? Not too much to hope that you came to assist us, otherwise?” The ka-eng tittered. Her sister followed her a moment later.

  “Maybe you can explain yourselves better this time,” Luc said. Roena noticed that he’d drawn his sword, too. Gone was the Luc who waited until the last moment to remember he needed a blade. She wondered if he’d noticed. “I’m tired of playing these games.”

  “We weren’t aware that games were being played,” one ka-eng said.

  “But since you’ve been so kind to us, Luc, son of Jak, we’ll indulge you,” the other added. “Maybe you’ll be convinced to step away and let us do our work.”

  Her sister nodded. “We don’t want to have to kill you.”

  “That’s nice,” Roena said. “I don’t have the same qualms, unfortunately.”

  “On killing us?” the first ka-eng asked. “Or Luc?” She grinned. “These
woods are our home, children. Do you not remember when I said that Gred Blackwood tried to do this very thing before? That was your grandfather, in case you didn’t know,” she added, nodding towards Roena.

  “You might also remember us saying how our people wouldn’t let him,” the second ka-eng continued. “Nothing has changed, my loves. You want to protect your own. We want to protect ours. The wisdom of time, passed down through the ages. Everyone’s story is the same.” She smiled at Luc, who took a step back, his mouth half-open.

  “You’re working with Yn Garr,” Roena said.

  “You’re acquainted with him?” the first ka-eng asked.

  “I think she means the little one.”

  “Ah. Him. Of course. And why is that a problem?” The first ka-eng smiled. “You would have if he had offered you the chance, wouldn’t you?”

  “She gave up the goods too quickly,” the other giggled. “Regrets it now, probably.”

  “Probably.”

  “Another wisdom through the ages. Always let them work for it first.”

  “Enough small talk,” Roena snarled, lifting her sword. “If you think I’m letting you bitches get away with killing my father…”

  The ka-eng held a finger up. “We were not paid to kill your father, child. Er, were we?”

  “I’m almost sure we weren’t,” her sister said. “Almost. Maybe some time spent going through the master’s missives are in order.”

  “I don’t believe we have time for that, however.” The ka-eng turned around. “Gred Blackwood never believed in the monsters—not at first. Iorwin Blackwood did, but he sent others to take care of them for him. Wise enough, in his own way. Roena Blackwood, on the other hand…”

  “She’s killed one,” her sister mused. “Does she think she can kill another?”

  Roena charged her.

  It seemed so easy in her head. The ka-eng was wide open, and Roena had been itching for a fight the moment she saw them at the edge of the woods. She hadn’t counted on anything else. But an unseen force smashed into her, sending her flying past the gate. She felt herself hit the trunk of a tree before she dropped to the ground.