Blackstone (Book 2) (30 page)

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.”

“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.

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. 

When he got his first look at the
mountain village, his doubts fell silent for several blissful moments. Finally.
Home. It hadn’t changed at all in the past seven years, not to his eyes. The
stone and wooden cottages were still spaced snugly together, with tall
evergreen trees packed in around them, offering protection against the winter
winds. At this time of the year, there was no snow, but the air was colder up
here than it had been in the valley. People that he knew well were going back
and forth on their daily business.

It was so heart-wrenchingly normal
that tears sprang to his eyes.

Siobhan kneed her horse around so
that she could come to his side. Ducking her head to the side, she asked
tentatively, “Alright, Wolf?”

He had to clear his throat and
blink hard to quell the tears. “Fine. It’s like I never left.”

She seemed to sense what he
couldn’t say and nodded in understanding. “Let’s go down, alright?”

Eager now, he spurred his gelding
forward, and they took the one lane road across the bridge, through the open
gates, and inside. Once there, he impatiently tied the horse to the first hitching
post he found and then strode through the main street.

As he walked, several people
stopped and stared, whispering to each other in uncertain tones. They probably
thought they recognized him, but weren’t sure. He’d changed so much since
leaving here he wasn’t sure his own parents would recognize him.

He was almost to the main well
that stood in the center of the village, when he finally found one of the
people he was looking for. His mother stood directly in front of him, a basket
of loaves hanging on one arm, her free hand gesturing as she spoke to their
next-door neighbor. Erik’s feet stumbled to a halt as his eyes drank her in.
There was perhaps more grey streaking through her blonde hair, a new wrinkle or
two around her blue eyes, but she was still hearty and strong as he remembered
her.

Somehow, without him saying a
word, she sensed something and stopped mid-sentence, turning to look about her.
When her eyes fell on him, she went abruptly still, as if even breath was
beyond her in that moment. “Erik…?” The tone was half-incredulous,
half-uncertain, as if she were disbelieving her own eyes.

For a moment, just a moment, he
felt like he was fourteen again and there was nothing wrong in the world. The
years of separation fell away and he reached for her as he had done his entire
childhood. “Mooir.”

Tears welled up in those clear
blue eyes and she dropped everything in her hands, running for him. He had to
duck so that her arms could come around his shoulders, and he put his good arm
around her waist, hugging her tight enough to make ribs squeak. She didn’t
care, her embrace just as fierce. He soaked her in, the warmth, the solid feel
of her, the way her hair smelled of sunshine and bread, the tears that were
seeping into his shirt, all of it. His heartache eased as he realized that
finally, finally he had made it home again.

People around him burst out into
cries of joy when they realized who he was and before he knew what was
happening, he was swarmed on all sides, everyone trying to reach out and touch
him. He put his mother back on her feet so that she could see him properly, his
smile wide with uncontained happiness.

Grabbing his arms, she shook him
gently. “Where have you been?” she demanded, voice choked.

“Lost,” he responded sadly. “But
through good fortune, I met with an amazing guild, and they helped me get to
you.”

Her eyes fell to his iron hand and
a strangled gasp of pain burst from her mouth. Tentatively, her fingers trailed
along it. “What happened…” she whispered, horrified.

Erik had absolutely no intention
of ever telling her the full story. His father, maybe, but not her. It would
wound her heart to hear it. “I was in a bad fight,” he responded, cutting down
the story to its bare bones. “But this is part of my good fortune. If I hadn’t
lost the hand, I would never have made it here.”

“Erik’s here?” a very familiar,
gruff male voice demanded.

Through all of the people, Erik
couldn’t see properly, but he didn’t have to see to know. He lifted his voice
to be heard over the crowd. “Faoir!”

People were kind enough to shift
to the either side so his father could worm his way through. When father and
son saw each other, it was like another homecoming all over again. Throwing his
hands up in an expression of pure elation, he reached for his son and grabbed
him in a bear hug that almost lifted Erik off his feet. Pounding his back, he
laughed aloud. “Son!”

His father, too, had not changed.
Still strong as a bear, beard down to his chest, hair so blond as to be almost
white. It relieved him to see his parents well. Erik was sure that if he were
any happier than this, he’d burst from it. When his father finally released
him, and he saw the gathering of all of the friends and relatives still
patiently waiting to get their turn to hug him too, a part of him wondered why
he hadn’t already burst from happiness.

“Where were you?” his father
demanded. “And who’d you donate the hand to?”

Yes, his father was taking this
more in stride than his mother had. Erik decided to tell him the full story
later, when his mother and sisters were safely out of earshot. “Lost the hand
in a fight four months ago,” he answered. “And I’ve been all over, fighting.
Wynngaard and Robarge, mostly.” Reminded, he turned, and gestured for people to
move enough that he could call, “Siobhan, Grae, Beirly, come here.”

“Fighting?” his mother pressed.
“Fighting who?”

“Whoever I was told to fight.”
Erik’s smile dimmed at the memory but he shook his head, clearing it. “But I want
you to meet the people that saved me. Without them, I’d never have made it home
again.” Turning again, he found Siobhan at his elbow, a warm and tender smile
on her face. He beamed down at her. “This is Siobhan Maley, Guildmaster of
Deepwoods. She was the one that first rescued me. Siobhan, my parents, Araan
and Saira Wolfinsky.”

His mother reached out and grasped
Siobhan’s hands. “Thank you for helping my son. You are very welcome here for
as long as you wish to stay.”

“Thank you,” Siobhan responded, squeezing
in return. “I’d hoped to stay a few days and see what Wolf’s home was like
before we go back.”

“And this is Beirly—he’s the one
that made the new hand for me—and Grae, a master Pathmaker, who brought me most
of the way here,” Erik continued.

There was a round of
how-do-you-do’s and expressions of thanks all around before his father asked,
“You keep saying they rescued you, or they brought you here. Son, just where
have you been? What did they save you from?”

The elation of being home faded as
reality set back in again. Resigned, Erik forced a smile and suggested, “Let’s
find a shady spot to sit and talk. This…will take a while.”

ӜӜӜ

It took almost four hours, after
all was said and done. His family was torn between being horrified by his
recounting or being thankful he had survived it. Erik felt emotionally drained
by it all and was very glad when his mother called a halt to it so they could
prepare dinner.

Siobhan, Grae, and Beirly had sat
in on this and listened, even though they knew half the story already, and
patiently waited it out. When everyone scattered to their own homes to make
dinner preparations, Erik focused on them and saw them settled in his family’s
home. Being professional travelers, more or less, they took this all in stride.
Siobhan even went into the kitchen with his mother and youngest sister, helping
with the cooking. Several times, as Erik passed, he could hear them laughing as
Siobhan traded funny stories back and forth on things he had done. It made his
heart warm just listening to it. Hearing people laughing was the most pleasant
music a man could hear, to his mind.

He ventured up the stairs to his
old bedroom. The door creaked slightly as he pushed it in, his breath held in
his throat. It had been seven years, after all, he’d understand if his parents
had lost hope at some point and chosen to use the room for other purposes. But
at the first glance inside, he knew these fears to be groundless. Everything
was exactly as he had left it. The room smelled musty from the disuse, but
everything was clean, so someone was coming in here regularly to keep the place
tidy.

Despite the fact that he had slept
here every night for nigh on fourteen years, it felt odd to step inside the
room. It felt even stranger to sit on the edge of the bed. This place felt so
much smaller to him now, almost constricting. Looking about, he tried to regain
the feeling of being home again, but this quiet room felt more alien to him
than anything else.

“Feels strange to you, doesn’t
it?”

Glancing up, he found his father
in the doorway. “Faoir.”

Taking this as an invitation, he
walked all the way in. “That bed won’t fit you anymore. It’s a good foot
short.”

Erik studied it for a moment and
then snorted. “You’re right.”

“I imagine not a single thing in
this room will fit you anymore.” A strange timbre was in these words, his
father’s face unreadable. “You’ve outgrown everything.”

“Aye, I probably have.” Erik had a
feeling that neither of them were talking about the bed or the clothes anymore.
“Faoir, I half-expected this room to be different. Did you and Mooir never give
up on me?”

“We knew you were alive,
somewhere.” His father’s expression relaxed into a sad smile. “We felt we’d
know, somehow, if you weren’t. Or maybe it was just that we couldn’t bear to think
of you as truly gone. We held on to the hope that eventually you’d find your
way back to us. I’d never imagined it would take a guild to bring you back,
though.”

“I wouldn’t have made it without
their help,” Erik replied honestly. “I was branded as a dark guildsman, I had
not a penny to my name, and my arm was in bad condition when Siobhan first laid
eyes on me. It’s purely through her generosity and good reputation that I was
able to travel here.”

His father’s eyes fell to the iron
hand resting in his lap. “There’s more to the story of how you lost that hand,
isn’t there?”

“Aye,” he confirmed grimly. “But I
think only you should hear it. It’s…gruesome.”

“Then tell me later, when there’s
no chance of interruption. It’s well now?”

“Oh, aye. Siobhan made sure of
that before Beirly put the hand on.” Lifting it in the air, he added, “I know
it disturbed Mooir to see it, but in truth, I’m rather glad to have it.”

“Because by losing the hand, you
were able to escape that dark guild?”

“That and it’s as good of a weapon
as a sword, some days.” Erik grinned in memory of a time or two where he’d put
the iron hand to good use.

“Come down and eat!” a voice
commanded from below.

His mouth watering in
anticipation, Erik immediately got to his feet. “Let’s have dinner.”

Chuckling, his father led the way
down the stairs. “I think your mooir fixed all of your favorites.”

Erik certainly hoped so.

ӜӜӜ

For three days, it was like a
never ending festival in Reske, and Erik was the main attraction. Everyone
wanted to have dinner with him, or lunch, sometimes even breakfast. He was
invited everywhere, he and the members of Deepwoods. As he went from place to
place, talking with old friends and family, sometimes helping them with chores
while catching up, Erik felt this strange feeling grow in his chest. He
couldn’t quite put his finger on it. This place was nostalgic and familiar and
he knew it like the back of his hand. Yet somehow he felt displaced, as if he
no longer belonged there among them.

It was perhaps because of this,
and not because of his short bed, that Erik found it impossible to sleep that
night. Giving up, he crept down the stairs, doing his best to move soundlessly
so he didn’t wake anyone else in the household. He was halfway down when he
realized that the hearth fire was still burning. Pausing, he cocked his head
and listened hard. Two voices were conversing quietly with each other, the
words too soft to be distinguishable. But he knew them: his father and Siobhan.

Having no compunction whatsoever
about eavesdropping, he eased down the last six stairs and then braced his back
against the wall so he could listen in unobserved.

“—seems lost sometimes here,” his
father was saying sadly. “I’m afraid his experiences over the last seven years
have changed him too much. He no longer feels as if he belongs here.”

“I’d wondered if anyone else saw
that aside from me.” Siobhan’s tone was gentle, sympathetic. “It’s not a bad
thing, Araan. Wolf has experienced more of the world than this whole village
combined. He loves the people here, but this small village feels confining to
him now that he knows what life outside of it is like.”

“Will you take him back with you,
then?”

“I would love to, but that’s not
my decision to make.”

Erik’s heart skipped a beat, eyes
flaring wide. Go back with her? Stay in Deepwoods? He had that option?

Oblivious to her silent listener
or his inner turmoil, Siobhan was still speaking. “Wolf has proven to be an
invaluable enforcer and a good friend. He still has his rough edges, granted,
but that just needs time. I’d selfishly prefer to keep him with me.”

Faoir grunted understanding. “I
must say, I’d prefer he stay in your guild than going back out on his own. At
least we trust you to keep an eye on him.”

“There’s that,” Siobhan agreed
readily. “I’ve been hesitating to ask him to go back with us because I didn’t
want to step on anyone’s toes. But if you’re sure you don’t mind…? I see. Good,
then. And your wife?”