Origins: A Deepwoods Book - a Collection of Deepwoods Short Stories (Deepwoods Series 0)

by Honor Raconteur

  “Good, thank you.”

  “Tran!” a light, unfamiliar voice called.

  Tran frowned and gave them a quick bob of the head before striding quickly in that direction.

  Wolfinsky stared in that direction as well, forehead gathering. “That sounded like Sylvie. It better not be someone hassling her.”

  “That happens often?” Conli ventured.

  “Sylvie’s the type of beauty that can turn a corner and find trouble.” Wolfinsky stayed planted for several moments more, listening hard, but none of them heard anything out of the ordinary. “Huh. She must have just needed help. Alright then, let me see if we can find Fei.”

  They walked up the caravan some more. Denney took note of the drivers and animals as they went. Most were preoccupied with getting things underway, or double-checking their wagons to make sure that nothing was amiss. The few that did notice the trio walking by gave double-takes, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of her or Wolfinsky. The man was intimidating enough to make anyone flinch back, especially with that iron hand of his.

  Before they could find the last man, the wagons started moving forward. Wolfinsky stopped dead and growled in frustration. “Already moving the first group out, eh? Sorry, introductions will have to wait until tonight when we arrive in Vellshire.”

  “Quite alright,” Conli assured him.

  “We’ve got about two hours before our part goes through. So you can move about until then. When we’re ready, go back to the cart and sit tight,” Wolfinsky instructed. “Don’t move out of the cart at all on the path, and don’t get down until Grae tells you it’s safe to do so. He’ll be the thin man with brown hair and bookish look to him.”

  “We understand. Thank you.” Conli led the way back toward the cart, letting the other enforcer go back to his duties. As they walked, he lowered his voice to a confidential tone. “I didn’t expect there to be a Teheranian as well. It seems to be a very culturally diverse guild.”

  “I’ll say. But he didn’t do more than just blink at me in surprise.” That was by far the mildest reaction that Denney had ever garnered. “And the other one, Wolfinsky, was gruff but seemed professional enough.”

  “Yes, indeed. I have a good vibe from these people. Hopefully it will be a smooth trip.”

  Chapter Two

  “So you’d be Miss Denney, then?”

  Denney turned and shifted around on the cart to look behind her. A startling beautiful brunette stood at the cart’s back edge, a pleasant expression on her face. She wasn’t dressed in any elaborate manner—in fact she was in a sensible outfit of tan pants and a red shirt—but she looked like a wealthy man’s pampered wife. Denney had to find her tongue to respond, “I am.”

  “I expected so, judging from Tran’s description of you. I’m Sylvie, the trader for Deepwoods.” With that introduction done, she levered herself up and into the cart. “Oh, a handsome man is here too. Are you the surgeon?”

  “Conli Roroana,” he introduced himself, extending a hand and blushing a little at her sideways compliment.

  Sylvie took the hand in a firm, professional clasp. “Sylvie Waverly. Charmed, sir. We’re glad to have you as Tran and Wolf are famous for finding trouble, whether they’re looking for it or not. Have you been spoken to about Fei?”

  “Ah, yes, your enforcers brought it to my attention.”

  “Good. He’s with the first part of the caravan now, so I’ll introduce you to him when we arrive in Vellshire.” Turning, she patted Denney on the hand in a friendly way. “Now, Miss Denney, you feel free to stick with me. Our enforcers are good at protecting people but there’s only three of them, so it’ll make it easier on them if we move together.”

  Sylvie said this with such charm and sincerity that Denney found herself smiling. “I will. Thank you.”

  “Good. I understand that you’re going towards Goldschmidt?”

  “Yes. We’re hoping to find a guild to join there.”

  “A small one,” Conli tacked on, pausing in rearranging his luggage to engage more actively in the conversation. “We don’t do well in large guilds.”

  “A small one, eh?” Sylvie put a finger against her bottom lip and played with it as she thought. “Most small guilds won’t have a position open for a surgeon. The ones that do will be escorting or trade guilds, and you’d be doing a lot of traveling.”

  “The traveling we don’t mind,” Conli assured her. “As long as we have good people to work with.”

  Sylvie seemed to hear what he didn’t say. “Good enforcers, you mean, to protect the pair of you. That’s exactly what I was looking for when I joined Deepwoods.” She canted her head, thinking hard. “I do know Goldschmidt rather well, but I can’t think of a guild off-hand that will suit you. Are your hearts set on that city?”

  “No, not at all,” Conli denied. “We’re considering Goodliffe too. Both cities were recommended to me from various sources and they have good reputations.”

  “Truly, Lone Hunter runs Goodliffe with an iron hand. As cities go, it’s one of the safer ones to live in. But Goldschmidt and Winziane are run just as well, I think. For that matter, I think very well of Island Pass.”

  Conli gave her a sad smile. “I thank you for the compliment.”

  She blinked, not understanding for a moment. “Oh. Is that where you’re from?”

  “My hometown, yes.”

  “No wonder. I kept thinking your accent was familiar. Well, if you’re choosing not to return to Island Pass…” she trailed off invitingly.

  If Sylvie wanted more of their history, she was to be disappointed as Conli responded succinctly, “We’re not.”

  “…then I would consider Goodliffe as well as Goldschmidt.”

  They had never been inside that city before, just knew of it, so Denney wasn’t sure what to make of this advice. Conli didn’t either. He asked Sylvie more questions and received very good answers in return. The way she responded with facts instead of general descriptions lent more credence to her words.

  Two hours passed in a blink and there was a loud call, “GET IN THE WAGONS! READY TO MOVE OUT!”

  Denney made absolutely certain that not even a strand of hair was outside of the cart. She had been on a path once before and it had been a strange, alien experience. Not uncomfortable, per se, but discomfiting.

  What eased her nervousness was Sylvie, who barely batted an eye at this order, and did nothing more than shift further into the cart to make room. Within moments, the guildmaster and Wolfinsky appeared and climbed in, squeezing over so that both had a solid seat. Siobhan did pop up and look ahead, making sure that all was in order before sitting down again. “Master Roroana, Miss Denney, I failed to explain a few things to you earlier. Someone told you the rules of being on the path? Yes? Good. Now, for when we arrive in Vellshire, I have two inns booked for our use. We’ll stay there overnight and then leave out again early in the morning. If there is something that you need, I highly suggest you take the time to buy it in Widstoe. We will have to travel for a half-day to get around the lake just west of the city before we can use a path again, which will take us to a small village.”

  Denney found this instruction to be somewhat confusing. “Um, Guildmaster? We can’t just use a path to get around the lake?”

  “Paths don’t bend,” she explained patiently. “They only travel in straight lines. Believe me, if it was possible, a Pathmaker would already have figured this out and it would make our lives a lot simpler. But the way a path is constructed, you can only determine distance and the size of cargo, not the angle.”

  “A fact of which I wasn’t aware.” Conli mentally filed that away. “After Vellshire?”

  “We can travel by path up to a stretch of desert land just south of Goodliffe. That will take us roughly five or six days to cross and then we’ll arrive at the city. I say desert, but it’s not all sand and cactuses, just dry ground and a blazingly hot temperature. Since we’re traveling in early spring like this, it shouldn’t be sco
rching—oh.” She cut herself off as the path activated.

  Denney looked around her with open mouthed wonder. The air was dense and slightly moist, and it warped in pretty, abstract patterns of blues and greens. The cart was moving, she could feel it do so, but it was a very smooth motion.

  “Miss Denney?” Sylvie bent her torso sideways to catch her eye. “Have you not been on a path before?”

  “I have, once before.” Denney couldn’t help but look around her once again. “But it wasn’t like this.”

  “Truly, your Pathmaker is superior to the last one that took us on a path,” Conli agreed, an expression of open delight on his face. “That trip was jerky and felt highly uncomfortable, like we were breathing water.”

  “Bart Hammer was your Pathmaker.” Wolf’s tone was statement and not question.

  Denney and Conli both stared at him in mild surprise. “Yes,” Conli confirmed, “he was. You know him?”

  “Oh, we all know him,” Siobhan groaned. “We’re pretty sure he slept with someone to get his license.”

  “Or he’s got blackmail on someone,” Sylvie added darkly. “The man’s a disgrace to the profession. Only people very new to traveling use him, as they don’t know his reputation. Last year he actually lost part of a caravan and we were hired as a rescue.”

  “Took Grae a full day to figure out where they had landed,” Wolfinsky remembered with a grimace. “And another two days to get them all back out again, because of course the idiot had tried to cross a desert with a path. Fortunately no one was hurt due to his incompetence.”

  “The only time I’ve ever heard Grae swear is when Bart Hammer is involved,” Siobhan told them. “Please, if you do want to travel in the future, contact us. We’re not exclusive to caravans, you see, we’ll take on smaller groups as well.”

  “After hearing all of that,” Conli waved a hand to indicate their surroundings in general, “and experiencing this, I wouldn’t dream of using someone else. This is by far the most pleasant experience I’ve had on a path.”

  Siobhan beamed at him. “Do tell my Pathmaker that. He adores compliments.”

  “I will.” Conli visibly tore himself away from staring at the path to ask her, “Your trader tells me that if I want a small guild that can use my skills, an escorting guild would likely be my best bet. Does Goodliffe, Winziane, or Goldschmidt have escorting guilds?”

  “They do,” she answered readily. “In this business, we get to know each other rather well. There’s one that works out of Goodliffe, and it has roughly fifty or so members. It grows every time I’m there. They have two Pathmakers directly connected to the trading companies. They only handle the large caravans.”

  Denney didn’t think that was quite what her uncle was looking for but held her peace.

  “Winziane has two escorting guilds, both of which have excellent Pathmakers, and we’re on good terms with both guilds. If you wish for a letter of introduction, I’d be happy to write one for you. As for Goldschmidt, we’re the only escorting guild in the city.”

  Conli’s head drew back in a gesture of confusion. “But you’re on two major trade routes.”

  “Surprising, isn’t it?” Sylvie agreed. “We’ve only been in business a few years, too, and before Deepwoods formed there wasn’t one at all.”

  “It’s the lack of trained Pathmakers that does it,” Siobhan explained. “And even we’re not originally from that city, but from Widstoe. Well, to clarify, Beirly, Grae, and I are.”

  “You’ve got at least one representative from each continent in this guild,” Sylvie noted. “Me and Fei from Orin, Tran from Teherani, Wolf from Wynngaard.”

  “How did that happen?” Denney couldn’t help but ask. It was so rare to see a guild with that many cultures in it, especially one that was apparently comprised of only seven members.

  “Oh, they’re all quite the story,” Siobhan said, warming up to the subject. “We’ve got an hour on the path until we arrive, whose tale do you want first?”

  It did not feel like they spent an hour in the cart. Siobhan started off with the creation of the guild, and she was quite the storyteller, engaging to listen to. Then Wolfinsky joined in, and even though he kept his story somewhat brief, the tale he related blew Denney’s mind. He had been a slave? Then no wonder he treated her kindly. He knew exactly what kind of life she must have led, what prejudices she had to fight against from day to day. Denney’s heart ached in sympathy for what he must have lived through but she also smiled in seeing him now, a man that did not linger on his scars but instead took happiness from being in his guild. Sylvie’s and Tran’s stories were not nearly as dramatic in comparison. She was glad to know of them, though, and to hear that it was Tran’s protective instincts that won him a place in the guild.

  The feeling of humid air faded and the swirl of patterns transformed into more solid scenery of green grass and city walls. They had arrived in Vellshire. Siobhan popped up again, using Wolfinsky’s shoulder to keep her balance. “Are we clear?” she called ahead to the front of the line.

  Tran came toward them, saying in a booming voice, “You’re free to get down!” he didn’t stop repeating this until he reached their cart. “Fei is at the gates and helping to settle in the rest of the caravan,” he reported.

  “Good, good. Tran, will you take these two to our inn and make sure they have the right gear for the desert? We’ll be tramping across it for at least six days after all.”

  “Certainly.” Tran reached into the back and grabbed two of their heavier suitcases. He didn’t seem to notice the weight at all, but then he was likely as strong as Wolfinsky.

  Denney followed him toward the city, sticking close. Sylvie shouldered her own bag and came along with them as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. Tran got them past the gate guards—with nothing more than a show of his guild crest and their names, which were jotted down in a log book—and then he showed them down the main street and over two.

  She looked around her with wide eyes as she walked, as this was one of the most prosperous cities she had ever seen. Quigg seemed to be larger but it wasn’t nearly as organized as this place. Vellshire had straight streets, all of them well maintained, and the buildings were not only unique in architecture but pretty to look at. People seemed to like tiled roofs and brick buildings here.

  “As cities go,” Sylvie said casually, “Vellshire is one of the safer ones to travel to. People just don’t hassle each other here as a rule. There is a poorer section on the far side that you should steer clear of—it’ll be obvious as the buildings and roads aren’t as maintained—but normally the only trouble you find here is from fellow travelers. It’s not from the residents.”

  “That said, we have an ironclad rule in the guild that if a woman is traveling with us, she is not to walk about unescorted,” Tran added in, tone firm. “Miss Denney, if you need to step out of the inn for whatever reason, you must call on me or Wolf or Fei to go with you. We’d rather do that than face trouble later.”

  “I’m under the same rules, no matter where we go,” Sylvie informed her cheerfully.

  “Sylvie,” Tran drawled with a dry look in her direction, “do you know how many men we’ve had to fight because of you?”

  Sylvie put a finger to her bottom lip and thought about it. “I don’t, actually.”

  “Even with my memory, I don’t either. That’s how many men there’ve been.”

  Raising her hands to both cheeks, she pretended to blush and look innocent. “You say the nicest things, Tran.”

  Tran rolled his eyes. “I pity your future husband, I really do.”

  She seemed to find this funny, as she laughed, and skipped ahead. “Here’s our inn.”

  The inn looked respectable. Not fancy enough to break a man’s purse strings, but a comfortable place to stay. It stood three stories of red brick and white shutters, with a wraparound porch that had tables set out for outside dining. Sylvie stepped inside, calling as she did so, “Deepwoods
party!”

  “Right-o!” an average looking man with a slight pot belly called back. He wiped his hands on the apron tied around his waist and came toward them, dodging other patrons as he did so. “How many rooms?”

  “I’m splitting with my guildmaster, so I’ll take her key. We need one more room.”

  He shifted a large ring of keys on his belt and pulled four free. “You choose who gets what. Bathing room is ready, so go in as you please, but it shuts down at ten. Dinner will be up in a half hour and runs also until ten. What time are you leaving in the morning?”

  “An hour after sunrise.”

  “I’ll have breakfast ready for you by sunrise, then.” He gave a long look at Denney and a frown gathered on his forehead. Then he turned to Tran. “You’d be the enforcer?”

  “That’s me,” Tran confirmed easily.

  “You want to keep a close eye on your young lass here. We had a caravan come in just ahead of you, and the boss of it’s a good woman, but she hired mostly Wynngaardian guards for it.”

  Denney felt ice flood her veins. Wynngaardians all the way out here? No, this was caravan season, anything was possible. But why here today?!

  Conli’s warm, firm hand settled on her shoulder and gripped her in silent reassurance.

  Tran barely glanced in her direction. “I’ve got her,” he assured the innkeeper. “Are they all in this inn?”

  “Party was too big,” the innkeeper denied, “and I already had a reservation from your guild. We split them up between here and the inn across the street.”

  “I see. Thanks for the warning, Master.”

  “Not at all, I don’t want trouble under my roof.” The innkeeper focused on her and said more gently, “You stick close to your enforcer. Even a Wynngaardian will stop and think twice about crossing the likes of him. You’ll be safe enough at his side.”

  “Thank you,” she managed.

  Sylvie handed Conli the key and they trudged up two flights of stairs and found the room to be towards the back. Denney was relieved to find that all of the rooms were right in a row, so Tran was literally next door, in between her and Sylvie’s rooms. He seemed glad of that as well as he could respond instantly if there was trouble.