Blackstone (Book 2) (2 page)

“My people have not forgotten warfare or tactics,” Fei
responded quietly. “There are many master strategists that live there. If we
had just one, I think we would be better off and able to face whatever comes
our direction.”

“You realize that everything you’re saying is nothing more
than hypothesis and conjecture,” Conli inserted uneasily. The tightness around
his eyes suggested that even he was half-convinced. “We don’t know that Orin
really can manage to pull an army together or that they’ll come to Robarge to
attack.”

“I hope I’m wrong.” Fei splayed his hands in an open shrug.
“But I’d rather be prepared for the worst.”

Siobhan heartily agreed with this sentiment. “And if nothing
else, we get to go into a city that very few have ventured into,
and
it
has the added benefit of escaping with Rune.”

Conli grimaced agreement. “That alone is a very good reason
to go. Alright, when should we leave?”

“Three days from now?” Siobhan offered, head cocked slightly
as she thought through logistics and timelines. “Assuming Rune passes his test,
it’ll give him some good experience to take us all to Orin.”

“There’s no path to my home city,” Fei added.

She waved this away. “Rune and Grae love building paths,
they’ll be delighted to make one. Granted, that means we’ll be digging about in
the dirt for stones for two days or so.”

They all sighed in resignation.

Shaking it off, Siobhan said, “Alright, Fei, your suggestion
is a good one. I do want to try talking to Darrens one more time before we
commit to this idea. We’ll discuss it over dinner tonight, see if there’s
anything the others want to add in, but I’m all for going.”

Relieved, Fei simply nodded.

“In the meantime,” Conli added with a significant look
toward the upstairs, “let’s just hope that Rune passes.”

Siobhan prudently took Fei with her when she went to meet
Darrens. After all, if she brought up the possibility of going to Saoleord for
help, he’d ask why, and she only knew as much as Fei had told her. Which really
didn’t amount to much. It was better to have him handy for any in-depth
questions.

It had taken wheedling and a bribe with Darrens secretary to
get an appointment this short notice, and as it was, they met very late in the
evening. Most people were either finishing dinner or getting ready to retire,
but the guildmaster’s home was fully lit and there were plenty of people still
milling about the compound. Then again, Siobhan was convinced that this was the
one place in the city that never slept.

They went directly to Darrens’ study, where they found the
man dressed more informally than usual, in nothing but trousers and short
sleeves, his feet propped up on his desk. He looked tired even at first glance,
and Siobhan’s heart sank. A tired man was not known to possess much patience.

He looked up at the tentative knock on the open door, then
waved them in and to the chairs arrayed in front of his desk. “Siobhan, Fei,
come in. I hope you’re coming to talk to me about something different this
time.”

She concealed a wince. “I’m sorry. I’m not.”

Darrens blew out an aggravated breath.

“Hear us out,” she pleaded, both hands raised up in a
staying motion. “You know that Fei is from Saoleord?”

“Yes, and?”

Fei smoothly picked up the thread of the conversation. “You
know that my people are the only ones that retain records from before the
governments fell?”

His eyes flew to Fei’s face, his wandering attention now
firmly fixed. In deliberate motions, he took his feet off the desk and leaned
forward, hands braced against the desk. “I did not. How much do your people
know?”

“It is why they fled so high up in the mountains,” Fei
explained simply. “They wanted to remove themselves far from the conflicts of
the world to preserve all of the history and knowledge they could. The legend says
that when they fled, they were only allowed to bring as much in the way of
personal things and tools as they could carry on their backs. The wagons and
horses were for scrolls, books, and records.”

Siobhan’s lips parted in astonishment. Eight years she had
known this man, and she’d just learned more about his people in the past five
minutes than in all of those years combined.

“Now that is very interesting,” Darrens allowed, “But I’m
not sure why you’re telling me this.”

“Before I left home, I was training under a master historian.
I was to take his place when I reached of age.” Fei gave a slight shrug of the
shoulders. “The lifestyle of a historian did not suit me, so I left. But before
I did, I learned much of the history of the world. Guildmaster Darrens, I have
seen the pattern before in the records of history, many times. When a country
or people are pushed to the brink, they always react in the same way: war.”

Darrens scrubbed two hands roughly through his hair, making
it stand on end in every direction. “I understand what you’re saying to me, and
I allow that if anyone would know, it’d probably be you. But what do you two
want me to do about it?”

“Please intervene, find a way to ease the monopoly so that
Orin isn’t on the verge of financial collapse,” Siobhan pleaded. “Markl said
he’d talk to his father himself if you felt like you needed his help in
negotiating.”

“We can’t ease it, it means not having the money to repair
the bridges,” he argued, using the same words he had in the last three
arguments they had about this.

“It means a delay in repairing the bridges, not something
insurmountable,” Siobhan argued, also repeating her words. Frustrated this was
going the same way as previous times, she threw up her hands. “If you can’t do
something about the trade monopoly, then find a way to make an economic boost
for Orin! Create a demand for a product, or something. If someone doesn’t do
something, then we face war.”

“War,” Darrens scoffed. “Orin would first have to finance a
war, which they don’t have the funds to do. And where would you get together
enough men to make up an army? We haven’t had war in two hundred years, at
least—”

“Two hundred and thirty nine years, to be precise,” Fei
interjected calmly.

Darrens gave him a nod of thanks and kept going, “—so no one
living even knows how to command an army or what to do with one if they had it!
Siobhan, I realize you’re worried, I grant you that there’s good reason for it,
but I don’t think it’ll come to war. Orin’s not in a position to do anything.”

Her words simply weren’t going through. Desperate, she
turned to Fei for help.

The look in Fei’s dark eyes was glum, as if he realized the
argument was already lost and they were speaking to deaf ears. Still, he tried.
“A starving wolf will attack, whether he thinks he can win or not.”

“And you think Orin is that starving wolf right now?”

Fei inclined his head.

“I grant you they will try to do something.” Darrens tried
to smile, but his patience was all but gone at this point. “But they don’t have
the resources or reserves to pull together anything that will do significant
damage. I’m sorry, but I don’t see a reason to really worry.”

And that was the heart of the problem. Siobhan sank back
into her chair, resigned that she would not be able to convince Darrens of the
severity of the situation until something drastic happened. “Then, if it’s
alright with you, I want to go into Saoleord.”

He cocked his head at her. “For what purpose?”

“These people are experts, they remember things long
forgotten by the rest of the world,” she explained. “Maybe they can see a
solution to the problem that we can’t.”

Darrens clearly didn’t see the point of going, but was
willing to send her on her way if it meant a break from repeating the same
argument. “Go, then. How long will you be gone?”

“Two, perhaps three weeks?” she offered uncertainly. “Grae
doesn’t have a path built going that direction. Or coming back. It’ll cost us a
little time to build it.”

“We can survive without you for three weeks,” he claimed
confidently. “If it will make you feel better, and you think it will help, then
go.”

Relieved to at least get this much compromise, she gave him
a strained smile. “Then we’ll go.”

ӜӜӜ

Siobhan was completely incapable of letting anyone pack
themselves.

Wolf had watched this pattern for years. She always said
“Pack up, people!” and acted as if she wasn’t going to help in the slightest,
but before they had even half their bags filled, she’d pop her head into
people’s rooms and ask if they’d packed this or that. This time was worse than
usual, and Wolf had an idea of why. Part of it was because of their
destination—she didn’t want to be caught shorthanded on the way to Saoleord.
But part of it was because Rune had very limited experience packing at all.

Beirly and Conli both dragged her out of Rune’s room several
times, telling her she needed to pack herself, but every time Wolf passed the
stairs, he could hear her voice floating down from the third story.

Shaking his head, he went down to the main floor and spied
Sylvie sitting at the table with Markl, their heads bent together. Those two were
becoming nigh inseparable, like Denney and Conli, although for entirely
different reasons. He and Beirly had a bet going on when the two would
officially get together. All the signs were there, although something seemed to
be holding them back.

Waving his hand, he caught the brunette’s attention.
“Sylvie, go pack for Siobhan. She’s so worried about Rune I think she forgot to
pack herself.”

Sylvie smirked at him. “Already have.”

He blew out a breath. “Smart woman. Funny, I don’t remember
her being this bad with me.”

Beirly, passing by, offered, “You never looked at her like a
mother either.”

True. He still didn’t. How anyone could look at Siobhan and
not see a woman was beyond his ken. “Is that the difference?”

“Mostly.” Scratching at his beard, Beirly amended this, “I
think. So, we all packed? All bags in the cart?”

He got a chorus of assents.

“Good, good. I wonder who will take us to Stott tomorrow?
Grae or Rune?”

Wolf shrugged, not concerned either way. Ever since Rune had
passed his test two days ago, he’d been looking for excuses to take people by
path. Likely he’d do it again tomorrow. The newness of it would wear off
eventually.

Although come to think of it, Grae still acted like that
sometimes….

Markl turned and looked up toward the rafters. “Fei, is
there anything we need to know about your people? How to greet them, anything
that we shouldn’t say or do?”

“Yes,” his voice floated down from above. Wolf couldn’t see
him, but could more or less pinpoint his location from Fei’s voice. “But I’ll
tell you as we’re crossing the bridge over into Orin. It’s best to say it all
at once.”

“Alright.” Even though he agreed, Markl looked slightly
disappointed by this delay. Wolf had never seen a man that loved learning as
much as their resident scholar.

He’d had no idea what to think of a ‘scholar’ at first. But
after six months of being in Markl’s company, he’d come to respect the man. Not
just for his skill with that crescent spear of his, but also for his knowledge.
More than once, Markl’s ability with languages and his understanding of
cultures had saved the guild a pretty penny and kept them out of potential
danger.

Conli stuck his head out of his clinic in the back and
called, “Wolf? A moment.”

Having a good idea why he was being summoned, Wolf let out a
soft sigh before turning and walking to the back of the Hall. Conli stepped
into the room to give Wolf enough space to enter, then half-closed the door
behind him.

As usual, the place was neat as a pin, even the floor clean
enough to eat off of. Conli was fanatical in that, something about dirt causing
infections. Teasing the man about it would set off a rant that could last hours.
As Wolf sat on the simple wooden bed against the back wall, he noticed that
half of the usual jars, herb packets, and medicine bottles that usually lined
the shelves over Conli’s desk were missing. He was taking that much along? The
leather satchel containing his surgical tools was also missing from the desk,
likely already packed into the small black emergency bag.

With deft hands, Conli undid the metal hand on Wolf’s right
arm and rolled the sleeve up, revealing the bandage underneath it all. “I told
you,” he said mildly, “to leave the hand off for a while, give this time to
heal properly.”

“I feel naked without it on,” Wolf grumbled, half under his
breath.

“I swear some days, I don’t know which weapon you prefer:
your hand or your sword.” Shaking his head, he unwound the bandage, examining
the long gash on the skin with clinical eyes. “It’s healing well enough in spite
of everything. If you left the hand off for three days, it’d scab over
completely and you wouldn’t need to worry about infection setting in.”

“You want me to leave it off while we head for Saoleord?”
Wolf objected.

Conli’s brows furrowed slightly. “No, I suppose that is a
bad idea. I’ll keep a careful eye on it and hope for the best.” Reaching behind
him, he lifted a bottle off the table and started dabbing it on the wound,
making it sting something fierce. For such a shallow wound, it was putting up
quite the fuss.

“This will be Rune’s first real trip with us,” Conli
mentioned idly.

Wolf considered this for a moment before nodding
thoughtfully. “It might be, at that. All our other escorting jobs didn’t last
us more than a day. Huh. I wonder how he’ll do sleeping outdoors?” As far as
Wolf could tell, the boy had been city bound his entire life and had limited
experience being in the woods.

 “You and Fei might want to take him aside, teach him some
basic survival skills,” Conli advised. “Just in case. Once we pass Stott and
cross the bridge into Orin, we’ll have little in the way of civilization. If he
gets lost out there, or separated from us, he won’t have a clue on what to do.”

True enough. The connecting bridge from Stott to Orin’s
shores took barely five hours to cross. And that was with a heavily laden
wagon. A man on horseback could cover it in about three. On Orin’s side, there
was Channel Pass—barely more than a trading town. Beyond that, Wingate, but
after that city there wasn’t anything but grassland and forest. In fact, there
weren’t many towns in Orin altogether, until you either went much further west
or all the way up north. It left a lot of unclaimed territory for a man to get
lost in. Rune was an expert inside of a city and could survive well there. Put
him in nature’s territory, and he wouldn’t have a clue.

After six months of being around him, Wolf had developed a
certain fondness for the boy and wouldn’t care to lose him through stupidity.
“I’ll teach him,” he promised Conli.