Fallen Ward (Deepwoods Saga Book 3)

by Honor Raconteur

  Relieved, Rune sucked in a deep breath and yelled to Tran, “WE’RE HERE!”

  “GOOD!” Tran bellowed back, sounding like a war horn. “GO!”

  He went, not questioning or second guessing the fighting skill of those three. If they’d held up through the initial rush, then they could take anything else thrown at them.

  Getting through the gate with three hundred and fifty people was a real trick. Everyone was crammed into the archway, enemy and ally alike. Granted, this space was built to handle two or three wagons abreast, but when over eight hundred people were crammed into it, it became about as passable as quicksand. Rune had to use excessive force just to carve a path through, and even then, he had to focus on the area right next to the wall to manage it. If he succeeded in getting his entire group past this mess, it would be a bona fide miracle.

  Finally, he broke free, or at least, free-ish. But of course, on the other side, there were at least two thousand men fighting to get through and block his path. Alright, well, it wasn’t two thousand, it was probably less than that as the enemy forces in this city were being distracted on all sides by attackers. It just felt like two thousand to him.

  Hissing breath in and out between clenched teeth, he gathered himself and launched into this new fray, determined to get through and to the next street. If he could just manage that, it would be a straight shot to the eastern gate.

  Of course, there was nothing easy about it. Never mind that he had walked this direction hundreds of times and could probably do it blindfolded by now. The sheer volume of angry, armed people in his path made going three inches a real challenge, let alone three feet. He ducked, weaved, kicked, punched, and at one point, hopped his way forward, and just prayed that the people in his group could keep up. No way he could go back for any of them at this point.

  When he reached the corner, he scrambled up onto an iron-wrought balcony and used it as a perch so he could catch his breath and get a bird’s eye view of the street. For the most part, his men had managed to keep up, although he was losing a few to side streets. That was bad, he needed everyone to stay together.

  Rune was not normally loud. In fact, he avoided ‘loud’ like one would avoid a barrel of dung. His specialty lay in being sneaky and one did not do well at sneaky if they were also loud. So doing what he was about to do went against every instinct. He was up high, there was no cover, and he was surrounded by enemy forces below. Past history told him to stay still and quiet until it was safe to move; but a commander couldn’t afford to do that. Hyun Woo had drilled that over and over into his head. Instead, he had to do the exact opposite: he had to be loud and visible.

  Ignoring his thumping heart and jangling nerves, he took in a deep breath, trying to project his voice as he had been taught. “EAST GATE! THIS STREET!”

  From here, he could see heads turn as they sought him out. Then he saw a few waves of confirmation, and the stragglers that had been heading the wrong direction reversed themselves and came toward him, one footstep at a time. Relieved he didn’t have to yell anymore, he put his hands on the rail and nimbly swung back down, taking out two men as he did by using them as a landing pad.

  Then he waded back into the fray.

  Hit, hit, duck, kick, repeat. Rune fell into a rhythm and the violence and the sounds washed over him. The sound of his heartbeat in his ears was louder than anything else. He was ten steps into the street when it occurred to him that half the reason why he was so annoyed was simply the lack of creativity on his enemy’s part. These people only had three moves. They either came at him overhand, or they sliced at his chest, or they tried to charge and stab. Really, was that all they could think to do? Didn’t they have any technique or skill at all?

  This had to be the most boring fight he had ever been in. He’d been in some bad ones, but this, this qualified as the worst. He was almost falling asleep on his feet here. And that would be bad, because if Hyun Woo or Wolf or Fei learned later that he was sleep fighting, well, he’d never hear the end of it.

  Fortunately, once he got past the mouth of the street, it abruptly became cleared of the congestion, probably because the enemy wasn’t good at predicting what they would do. No one was there to block him. Rune stayed put long enough to make sure the majority of his group was still following him, and the rest were coming as quickly as they could. Then he bounded forward, heading straight for the gate before the enemy commanders could figure out what they were doing and send a force to head him off.

  It was almost eerie, how quiet the street was. Compared to the loud clash behind him, where a man’s head rang from the force of it, it was very strange indeed. In fact, it made his skin crawl. Rune had this paranoia about quiet streets. It usually meant an ambush lurked in the shadows. He kept his senses alert and trained on his surroundings, but there wasn’t so much as a peep from a mouse. They really had deserted this side of the city in favor of putting their troops elsewhere.

  The stupidity of that decision made his head hurt.

  East Gate directly faced Converse. It was the most direct path to that city. Ignoring it in favor of the other three gates made no strategic sense whatsoever. Were these idiots absolutely incapable of thinking things through?

  Wait, he shouldn’t complain when his enemy was making a mistake. That was rule number five. Instead, he chose to count it was a blessing. But when he put his hand against the rough wood of the gate, he was still torn between incredulity that it had been so easy to get there and relief that he’d made it.

  “Help me open it!” he commanded the men right behind him.

  People leapt to obey, lifting the heavy bar off before putting their shoulders to the door and shoving at it. The gate was a good two feet thick, twenty feet tall, another twenty feet wide, so it wasn’t an easy thing to budge. But with the dedicated effort of a dozen men, they managed it. As soon as they did, the group from the channel ships poured through.

  In a prearranged signal, Rune let out three sharp whistles. It told a hundred from his group to stay here and make sure this gate stayed open, at all costs. It also told the rest of his men to follow him back into the city.

  They had hunting to do.

  ӜӜӜ

  The plan went smoother than they had any right to expect. There were a few hitches, of course. A battle plan never really survived first contact.

  Because Rune’s group had been delayed in getting to Goldschmidt, everyone else had been delayed as well. Jonathan Glass’s group, taken through by Jay Fowler, was so late getting there that they were of little help in taking the southern gate. Rune had already beaten him there. When Jonathan saw what was going on, he just came in to help mop up any of the more stubborn fighters. Then he held the gate open while Rune’s group went off, back through the center of the city, sweeping out anyone trying to hide or fight or negotiate their way out of Goldschmidt.

  Of course, Jay was so late that he missed his ship entirely. The ship had been ordered to not linger on the shoreline, for fear of being used by the enemy, so when he didn’t come on time, they drew anchor and sailed off to the middle of the channel. Trapped, the man did the only sensible thing he could: he joined in on the fight.

  The fact that Rune suggested he fight would be a well-kept secret from Nuel Hammon. The man got twitchy about putting his Pathmaker in the line of danger for some reason.

  Hyun Woo had understated things at the meeting, a week ago. Street fighting was dirty, dirty business, and Rune didn’t enjoy a single moment of it. It was so terrible, in fact, that the Orinite soldiers decided they’d had enough, and at four o’clock in the afternoon, they tried to escape Goldschmidt. Of course, with every gate guarded, they didn’t get very far.

  Rune caught up with Wolf and Tran at the southern gate, the one he had originally used to get into Goldschmidt. Both were bellowing orders left and right, directing people on what to do with the captives. Wolf acted as if he hadn’t really seen him, but when Rune stopped, the man took a water flask from his belt and hand
ed it over.

  Not about to ask questions, Rune took it from him and drained it dry with one long pull. After fighting all day, he was beyond thirsty. Lowering it, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and asked, “How goes it?”

  “We estimate they’re down to about nine hundred,” Tran responded absently, not facing his direction. “We’ve whittled down their numbers easily, with them running in between one gate and another. They’re not resisting anymore, just letting us take them, which is good. If we knew what to do with them.”

  Rune was all for tying a stone to their ankles and throwing them into the channel, but he had a feeling that no one would support this idea. Curse the luck.

  Looking about, he frowned when he couldn’t find a certain set of red heads. “Siobhan and Beirly?”

  “Beirly took a blow to the head. Siobhan’s tending to it.”

  Concerned, he asked, “Bad?”

  “Naw, not really. He just can’t stand up without wanting to empty his stomach. A few days’ rest will put him to rights.”

  Conli would probably have a very different opinion on that. Tran seemed to think that if you weren’t bleeding to death, or poisoned, then odds were you’d survive it fine. It was one of the reasons why Rune suspected that the black bag was never, ever, left with Tran. “Where are they?”

  Tran jerked a chin toward the wall.

  Rune absently tapped his heart twice in understanding and thanks before brushing past, looking for his people. He found Beirly lying flat on his back, a cloth over his eyes, and Siobhan kneeling next to him. She had a worried set to her jaw and the way her hands moved, it was clear she was hovering without really intending to hover.

  “Siobhan.”

  Her head jerked up, taking him in, then she broke out in a relieved smile. “Rune. You’re not hurt?”

  “I’m fine,” he negated with a wave of the hand. “Heard Beirly was, though.”

  “Beirly was,” Beirly said drolly. “And while his head is ringing, his hearing is just fine.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Rune responded dryly. “I thought, I can take you to Conli? Or bring Conli here?”

  “Bring Conli here,” Siobhan said firmly. “He’s in no condition to travel by path. Just standing is making him dizzy and nauseated, I can’t imagine what a path will do to him.”

  Good point. “I’ll fetch him, then. Anything else while I’m making the trip?”

  “Ask Darrens what he wants us to do with all of these enemy soldiers. The plans we laid in place won’t work for this many people.”

  Rune nodded, understanding. “That it?”

  “Anyone that wants to come back with you, can. We’ve got things in hand here.”

  Now that, he wasn’t sure he agreed with. He wasn’t too keen about letting Denney come back into Goldschmidt, not yet, anyway. But he gave her a sloppy salute with two fingers before turning and trotting off, heading for the eastern gate and the ready-made path just outside of it.

  “And if you see Knesek, tell him to do undo the dam on the canal!” Siobhan called after him.

  Come to think of it, he’d have to do that anyway, otherwise he wouldn’t have any water to turn the pathway on. Changing directions mid-step, he went hunting for the man.

  Siobhan wanted it explained to her why they could win the battle of Goldschmidt in a day, but even after two weeks of cleanup, they still weren’t allowed back into their homes. There was some sort of irony there that escaped her.

  The main problem they faced was the sheer number of men they’d captured. It overwhelmed them. They hadn’t been prepared for the prisoners to outnumber the guards. Nuel Hammon sent up more people to help. Finally, after many, many, many meetings, they were able to sort things out. The prisoners were split up as a work force and sent to Stott and Channel Pass, and some of course stayed in Goldschmidt. They were to help rebuild what they had destroyed. With them split up and scattered as they were, it made things easier to manage.

  Even with this problem solved, they couldn’t immediately move back in. A whole section of Goldschmidt had been burned during the first battle, after all, which unfortunately included her guildhall. Siobhan stood on what used to be her front stoop and surveyed the scene with tears in her eyes. Wolf had described it to her, of course, but seeing it herself made it infinitely worse. There was nothing left. It was all charcoal timbers and ash and black soot staining the ground. Anything of value had gone up in smoke. Fortunately, the majority of their guild funds weren’t kept here, but in a secure vault in Blackstone. Also fortunately, their enemy hadn’t figured out how to open it, so the funds were intact. Otherwise, she hadn’t a clue how she would afford the rebuild.

  “Siobhan?”

  Startled, her head snapped around. “Grae.”

  His eyes were kind, sympathy and empathy blending, as he had been as attached to the place as she was. But he didn’t say any comforting words to her. Instead, he came to stand beside her, slipping an arm around her shoulders.

  “This time, can I have my own workroom? Beirly’s a space hog.”

  Not expecting this, she choked on a laugh. “Is that right? Well, you’re going to have to wrangle the idea past him. He’s the one planning the rebuild, after all.”

  “That’ll be easy. He didn’t want to share with me to begin with. We just had to, because Conli really did take priority over us.”

  Well, yes, the man had to have a sterile environment to treat people in. Not something that was covered in wooden shavings and chemicals and dyes. “You’d better talk to him quickly. As soon as this mess is clear, we’ll rebuild.”

  Grae blinked at her. “Really? But Guildmaster Darrens is still at the inn in Converse.”

  People had been talking about that the last few days, why Darrens hadn’t yet moved back into Goldschmidt. Siobhan knew why—only half of his compound was standing. He was in the same position as she was—he would have to rebuild at least the basic living quarters before they could move back in. “His house itself is intact, but not the housing for his people. He won’t move back in until everyone has a place to sleep, at least. And it’s not like there’re any tents left in the city to be had.”

  “Oh,” Grae intoned, a wealth of understanding in that single syllable. “I hadn’t realized it was that bad.”

  “I hadn’t either, until I was talking to him about it yesterday. He’s encouraging people who can come back to do so. After all, we’ve been burdening Converse and Winziane for several weeks now.”

  “It’s hard to be convincing when the head guildmaster himself doesn’t do it.”

  Yes, that was exactly the problem. “Well, I plan to move back as soon as I can. Can you bring us all here tomorrow? My goal is to have this place cleaned out in two days. That way we can start working.”

  “Certainly. Darrens is just having me ferry people and building supplies back and forth, so I can bring you all with me on one of the trips. I’m not sure how available I’ll be to help with this, though.”

  She wasn’t surprised by that. “We need you and Rune to continue doing what you’re doing. We’ll handle the grunt work.”

  Grae’s expression suggested that didn’t sit right with him, but he was also accustomed to the fact that as the only master Pathmaker in Goldschmidt, he often was exempt from the dirtier chores simply because he was needed elsewhere.

  “Speaking of, I’m actually here to fetch you. Darrens has called for a meeting.”

  “Right now?”

  “Right now. Apparently he sent someone out to gather information about two weeks ago and they came in this morning.”

  Information was always a good thing. Even though they’d won Goldschmidt, they didn’t know if this was truly the end of Fallen Ward’s schemes or not. Siobhan would like to be prepared for the future. She was deathly tired of being blindsided. “Then take me to him.”

  ӜӜӜ

  Siobhan was getting used to these come-right-now summons. They always involved the same people, conducted in the
same corner of the inn, and for some odd reason, she was usually the last to arrive. This time was no exception. She came in to find that all of the commanders were there, as well as Darrens and Emalee, with only Romohr absent.

  Darrens gave her a quick nod of greeting and started speaking before she could properly put her backside into a chair. “I know this is short notice, thank you for coming so quickly. I have information here that I think everyone needs to know. First, this is Alianore de Essewell, one of the best traders I have in my guild. She’s famous for being able to find what no one else can.”

  For a woman of such skill, she certainly didn’t look the part. Siobhan would have pegged her as a grandmother. She was plump, had wavy dark hair, and genial expression. Then again, the bow she carried, and that short sword strapped to her waist, somewhat belied that initial impression. Siobhan re-evaluated her first opinion. This woman might be the most dangerous one at the table, simply because no one would expect anything out of her until it was far too late.

  “I sent her to Orin to see if she couldn’t ferret out more information. Well, that and to get a better feel for the economic conditions.” Darrens gestured for her to stand. “Please tell them what you found.”

  “Well, it was mighty bad, I tell you that.” Alianore shook her head, mouth set in a grim line. “I took mostly food with me, that and some cheap wine, as I figured that’d sell best. I barely made it through the city gates before I’d sold most of it. People were giving me a pretty penny for it, too. Or so I thought, until I got into the market and found that inflation was on the rise.”

  Inflation?

  Markl groaned, the sound full of understanding. “Of course. Of course, it would.”

  Alianore cocked her head at him. “You see the problem already, do you?”

  “I do, at least I think I do.”

  “Hoo. Well, I’ll explain to the rest, then.” Alianore held up two fingers. “The problem’s two-fold, as it be. Attacking Robarge as they have, everyone’s stopped trading with them. So there’s precious little food and such coming into the major cities. Not much food to be had. On the other hand, those scoundrels that pillaged our cities are returning with loot, but it’s all valuables. Gold and jewels, and things like that. It’s overloaded the market and made value decrease. Worse, most people won’t buy it, as it’s not in demand right now. Food is.” Pausing, she added almost as an afterthought, “A woman could make a killing over there right now, if she played it right. Go in, buy all that stuff in lots, and ship it back here. Sit on it a few months, till things go back to normal, and sell it back.”