He didn’t know.
Aside from that, he knew that there was another thing that urged him to stay with the guild. What Siobhan had just done for him…it was above and beyond what most people would do. Only his family and very close friends had ever done something of equal importance. The way she acted towards him made it clear that she viewed him as family. Siobhan, Beirly, and Grae felt like family to him, too. His heart gave a lurch at just the idea that he might never see them again after reaching Reske.
What was wrong with him? He had the chance to go home. Siobhan was taking him there herself. At first, he had doubted that, but so far she had made good on every promise she’d made him. Now, he knew she’d keep her word. So why did the thought of leaving her make his heart tremble?
He longed for home but at the same time, feared it. He had changed so much, so radically, that he wasn’t sure if any of his family would even be able to recognize him now. They loved him, had no doubt missed him, but he did not think home would feel the same anymore.
But that left the question, where did he belong? At this woman’s side?
Troubled, he went back and forth, arguing the matter internally. He was so lost inside his own head that Siobhan dropped into the chair next to him, making the floorboard squeak, before he realized she was anywhere nearby. Startled, his head jerked up.
“What’s troubling you so badly?” she asked him bluntly, crossing her hands comfortably over her stomach. “That guard from before?”
“Only a little,” he responded with a long sigh. Worries weighed on him so heavily that he felt ten years older. “In truth, I have no good memories of Quigg.”
Her head cocked in interest. “You mentioned before you’d been through the place.”
The way she phrased her words, he could either grunt and leave the subject alone, or elaborate. Erik looked at her for a long moment, mentally debating. From the very beginning, he’d felt he owed this woman a significant debt. Not just from the money she spent on him, but for her kindness and patience. In all the time they’d known each other, she’d never once demanded a recounting of his past or answers to her questions. It made him respect her. So the part of him that longed to accept her overtures of friendship had him opening his mouth and saying something he’d never imagined he’d say to her.
“It was in this city I lost my hand.”
Siobhan’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “HERE?!”
“I was a dark guildsman,” he pointed out in dark humor. “The only way I could have crossed into Robarge was through a slave train, Siobhan.”
Her mouth opened, closed, and opened again. She looked like a beached fish. “I guess…I never thought to question how you got through Island Pass. So that was how.”
“Aye.” His eyes went blind as the memory came back to him, vivid and strong enough to make his stump ache. “It was outside of the city walls that I lost the hand.” In reflex, his other hand came up to rub at it, only to be thwarted with the metal covering the area. Grimacing, he let his hand drop again to the table’s surface. “I told you once before, that I lost it in a battle, right?”
“Right,” she agreed, seemingly holding her breath. It was the first time he had ever come close to telling her what happened.
“In truth, it was right after a battle.” He found it impossible to meet her eyes and instead stared steadfastly at the ceiling. “We’d been fighting a rival guild, why, I don’t remember, and it hadn’t been easy. Normally, fights like that are over quick, no more than an hour’s work. But that day, they were tenacious and constantly running from one point to another with ambushes and traps set up along the way. I was running most of the time, only fighting when I could get close enough to engage. From dawn to sunset, I was running and fighting, having no time to rest. By the time that the evening bells tolled, and we’d won, I was exhausted. Beyond exhausted.”
He dared a glance at her face and found her riveted to him. Her fixed attention made it easier, somehow, to keep going. “I went back to the main hall, intending to just find an empty cot somewhere and sleep. I was too tired to think about food. But I never made it there. I was within sight of the doors when my own guildsmen jumped me.” Erik lifted his iron hand and looked at it, but not truly seeing it. “With them combined like that, in my state, I was no match for them. They cut off my hand.”
Siobhan let out a sound like an enraged cat. “Your own guildsmen.”
“There is no honor in a dark guild.” He looked at her from the corner of his eyes. “Imagine my surprise when I went into a good guild next, and saw how well you take care of each other. You three are more like family than a guild.”
“That’s what a good guild is supposed to be like,” Siobhan said patiently. Rubbing both palms over her face, she blew out an angry hiss. “Still, the fact that they would hurt you like that just from jealousy…it’s mind blowing. I can’t wrap my head around it.”
“Don’t try to,” he advised. “The moment you understand it, you become like them.”
“Sage advice.” Her head jerked up as an alarmed expression came over her face. “Wolf. That old guild of yours. They won’t possibly try to come back after you, will they?”
He waved this concern away. “It’s ironic, but because they did that to me, they were beaten by a rival guild about a month later. If I’d been at full strength, they likely would still be around. It was the rival guild that sold me as a slave.”
“So it’s entirely because you lost the hand that I was able to get you?” Her eyes went to his iron hand. “I now have mixed feelings about what happened.”
“As do I.”
From the other side of the room, there was a call of, “Siobhan!”
Groaning, she pushed the chair back. “A guildmaster’s work is never done, I swear.” She put a hand on his shoulder, her touch gentle and sweet. “Thank you, Wolf, for the story.”
“You’re welcome,” he whispered. Watching her go, he was overcome by the unfairness all over again. In a different world, where he hadn’t been taken from his home and forced onto such a dark path, he would have been able to stay. Stay, and be friends and an ally with that incredible woman. It was the loss of that future, more than the hand, that enraged him.
People drifted upstairs in twos and threes, and finally, the last of them retired for the night. Having no need to keep sitting there, keeping watch over people, he trudged up the stairs as well.
The bed was a fine one, the mattress just soft enough to give a man’s back some comfort, and long enough that his feet weren’t hanging off the edge. So there was no reason for him to be tossing and turning like he was. Erik finally dropped off to sleep after some effort, only to wake up a short time later in a cold sweat, his hand automatically reaching for the sword leaning against the headboard. Breathing hard, he leaned over the side of the bed, nauseated from the nightmare.
Bad memories made the worst nightmares.
Breathing slowly and deeply, he got his stomach back under control. Judging from the light coming in through the window, he couldn’t have slept for more than an hour or two. It wasn’t enough rest for him after traveling all day, but the thought of rolling over and trying again didn’t set well with him.
He moved on instinct, gravitating toward the one thing that always squelched the nightmares. Taking the quilt and sword with him, he moved on silent feet, easing out of his room and down two doors. Putting his ear to the wood, he listened for the soft, steady breathing of his guildmaster. His tremors eased, the nightmare fading, as he listened to her breath. She was deeply asleep, not a concern in her world.
Comforted by that, he sank down to the floor, putting his back against the wood. There he stayed, wrapped up in the quilt, and just listened.
An interminable time passed before the door directly across from him opened. Grae, looking mussed and half asleep, stepped out. He took in the sight of Erik sitting there, leaning against Siobhan’s door, but oddly enough didn’t look surprised. Erik felt self-conscious
in this position and somewhat trapped on the floor, but Grae didn’t even ask a question, just crossed to him and turned so that he sat next to him, shoulders brushing.
Erik did not understand this situation one bit. Why would the man not be surprised to see him like this? In the middle of the night, no less.
In a hushed tone, barely audible, Grae spoke. “Ever since I was a child, when something went wrong, I went to Siobhan. Because she can face anything without flinching. Even if she can’t fix the problem, I found that being next to her is comforting.” Finally he turned, facing Erik directly, a lopsided smile on his face. In the dim lighting of the hallway, it was barely visible, but Erik could still see it. “You and I are alike that way.”
He also felt that way? That everything in the world could be overcome as long as Siobhan was with him? In that moment, Erik felt a stronger connection to Grae than he ever had before. “I didn’t think we were anything alike.”
Grae found this funny, as he chuckled, the sound breathy and low. “Me either, at first.”
A comfortable silence fell between them. For once, Erik didn’t feel any tension coming from Grae. He decided to just enjoy the moment, and went back to staring blankly at the opposite wall.
“You don’t do this every night,” Grae ventured, tone cautious. His tone invited a response, if Erik felt comfortable giving him one, or not.
“No,” Erik agreed, still not looking at the other man. He struggled with what to say for a moment, finally settling on, “I have no good memories of this city.”
“Ah. Siobhan mentioned to me that it was here you lost the hand.” Grae, bless the man, left it at that.
“Aye.” After contemplating that for a moment, he asked, “Is that truly all she said?”
“That and it was your own guildsmen that did it. If they were still around, she’d go hunt them down and do the same. She’s that mad about it.” Grae shook his head, snorting. “As fierce as a lioness, our Siobhan. But the thing I don’t understand is why?”
“Jealousy. Fear. When I was younger, I was new to fighting. Oh, I’d been trained in using the sword, we all are in my hometown. I was far from defenseless. But actual battle experience, that’s what I lacked. Over time, I got better. Stronger. Faster. I think it scared them.” He let his head thunk against the wood. “They weren’t sure if there was anyone in the guild strong enough to stop me, if I wanted to leave.”
“So they crippled you instead?” Grae shook his head, mouth tight. “That makes no sense to me.”
“Little does in a dark guild. Fear rules there. Fear and jealousy.” Almost without his permission, his mouth added, “It’s a miracle to belong to a guild as good as yours. You’re a blessed man, Grae.”
“Oh, I know it, trust me. The whole guild was created for my sake.”
“Have you thoughts of growing larger?”
“Certainly, now that we’re making enough money to support more people.” Grae ticked things off on his fingers. “We want more enforcers, a trader, and an apothecary or surgeon of some sort.”
So they did realize that they were short on the specialties an escorting guild needed, they just hadn’t been able to do anything about it until recently? That made sense to him. After all, Deepwoods was very new. The assurance that they would be looking for an enforcer after this trip reassured him.
After another stretch of silence, Grae said in realization, “I don’t know anything about Reske, or your family. Will you tell me about them?”
Slowly, haltingly, Erik tried to describe his home and parents and siblings. Whenever he paused, unsure of what to say, Grae would ask another question, gently leading him along. Eventually, it became more natural, and Erik started to ask questions in turn, learning more about Grae and Siobhan’s families. (They had apparently grown up next door to each other.)
The night passed easily, without their notice, until eventually they grew tired of speaking and their rears went numb from sitting on a hard wood floor. Calling it quits, both men gave each other a genuine wish for sweet dreams, and went back to their beds. But this time, as Wolf crawled back onto the mattress, he knew he’d sleep well.
ӜӜӜ
After spending half the night talking in the hallway, Erik did not wake up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. He growled at Siobhan as she knocked on his door with a wakeup call, then growled at Beirly when the man tried to get between him and the breakfast table. People more or less deemed it wise to give him space until he had at least eaten, and scattered to different tables.
With two plates of very good omelets in his stomach, he felt less inclined to murder anyone. Siobhan sank into the chair next to him, putting a mug on the table as she did. Using just one finger, she pushed it his direction, like a woman distracting a hungry wolf with a chunk of prime meat. “Good morning?”
Amused by her caution, he grinned at her as he took the mug. “Morning.”
Relieved at his response, she fanned herself with a hand, the motion exaggerated. “Phew! It’s safe everyone, he’s back to being a human being!”
There was laughter from most of the group and even Erik had to chuckle.
“You earned your nickname all over again this morning,” she informed him, crossing her legs comfortably and sipping her tea. “You didn’t sleep well last night?”
“Not until the wee hours of the morning,” he answered honestly. “Grae and I stayed up late talking.”
Siobhan blinked. Then blinked again. “You and Grae. Talked. For hours.”
With a shrug, he raised his mug and drank deeply.
“Well, well, well. You realize that the people that Grae comfortably talks to can be numbered on one hand? No? Yes, it’s quite true. Welcome, Wolf, to a very exclusive club. You are now counted among the people that Grae trusts.” Leaning forward, she murmured for his ears alone, “And that is no mean feat.”
He had absolutely no idea what to say to that. Or how to feel about it, for that matter.
Smiling, she drained the mug down before plopping it loudly on the table. “Alright, everyone, let’s move out!” she called. Getting to her feet, she clapped her hands, motioning for people to go. Under her directions, they went, shuffling around each other and grabbing up bags of personal belongings and weapons as they headed for the door.
Erik, of course, was right behind her.
Loading and unloading the caravan was oddly enough the perfect opportunity for pickpockets and sneak thieves to attack. With people coming and going, and all of the activity mixed in on the city streets, one more person could mix in without being noticed. It was for this reason that Erik did not join in and help with hitching up the teams, but instead stood so that he could see most of the wagons. Beirly and Siobhan were also positioned around so that they could cover the angles he could not, preventing thefts as much as possible.
Grae stood near the front of the caravan and several feet away from him, his neck craned so that he could look toward the sky. He was muttering under his breath, although what, Erik didn’t know. Over the bustle and noise of the morning traffic, he couldn’t hear him. Like as not, it was calculations dealing with their departure this morning. Grae was the careful sort, who weighed and measured everything three times before doing.
His eyes almost slid past him, the sneak was that good. But from the corner of his eye, Erik saw someone slip just too close to Grae, his hand slipping in the direction of the Pathmaker’s pockets. Grae was too absorbed with his own thoughts to notice.
In three strides, Erik reached the boy and caught him by the scruff of the neck. Shaking him like a mother cat would a naughty kitten, he lifted him off the cobblestone just enough that he could still loom over the kid.
It was only then that Grae seemed to realize something was going on, as he jerked around and watched in astonishment.
The thief squirmed and protested wordlessly, trying in vain to get Erik’s grip to loosen. Coming in closer, he caught those wide brown eyes and breathed menacingly, “Return it. All of it.”
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“I ain’t done nothin’—” the urchin argued in a whine.
Erik lifted his iron hand so that it sat right in front of the boy’s nose. “Now.”
The thief eyed the appendage with open fear. Hands shaking, he took a leather purse out of an inner pocket and obediently handed it over.
“Grae.”
The Pathmaker darted forward and took the purse.
“Count it. And check your pockets, see if anything else is missing,” Erik directed.
Obediently, Grae did just that, his fingers quick and deft as he made sure that everything was accounted for. When he was satisfied it was, his shoulders relaxed. “It’s all here, Wolf.”
Not done with the kid, he made his voice even darker and more foreboding. “No one touches this caravan. Spread the word.”
Nodding jerkily in agreement, the thief squirmed again. This time, Erik let him drop. His feet had barely hit the cobblestone before he was off like a shot.
Grae watched him go, scratching at his chin. “Now when did he lift my purse?”
“While you were busy calculating,” Erik answered dryly. “Do us all a favor, and the next time you want to think, do it while standing next to me? Thieves don’t bother me for some reason.”
Grae looked up at him, brow quirked in wry amusement. “Yes, I wonder why that is.”
Grinning at him—they both knew good and well why—Erik turned and went back to watching the caravan load up. His eyes caught sight of Siobhan. She seemed worried that something was happening, so he waved a hand in reassurance. It worked, and she went back to watching over her own area.
They finished hitching up the teams and everyone loaded up. With the use of Grae’s path outside of the northwest gate, they would travel directly to Brevik, which should only take about an hour’s time.
And after that….Reske.
Chapter Seven
It took five long days to ride to Reske. Erik didn’t enjoy one moment of it. He oscillated between being ecstatic to see his family again to being worried about what would happen to him when he finally arrived. He wanted to go there, no doubt. He just wasn’t sure about staying.
Blackstone (Book 2) Page 28