Blackstone (Book 2) (4 page)

Rune looked relieved that he wouldn’t have to learn this new
skill in front of an audience and quickly went where Grae directed. Tran
cleared his throat. “Fei, song?” he prompted.

Fei opened his mouth and in a clear, smooth tenor sang about
a winding mountain pass that wove through ancient oak trees, rivers that were
to be crossed, and swinging bridges that spanned over valleys. Tran listened
intently, eyes closed. Markl was scribbling frantically, trying to keep up and
record every word.

When Fei finished the song, Tran smiled. “No need to rush,
Markl. I have it memorized. Here, I’ll repeat it for you.”

Markl stopped abruptly, pencil still touching the paper, and
looked at him incredulously. “After hearing it
once
?”

A smirk on his face, Tran began singing the same song, in a
slightly lower tone as his bass voice couldn’t reach as high as Fei’s. He did
not just repeat the lyrics, however, but even his tonality and enunciation was
a perfect replica of Fei’s. Markl was so astounded by the recitation that he
couldn’t focus enough to write anything.

When Tran finished, Markl had to swallow—twice—before he
managed in a strained tone, “Just how good is a Teheranian’s memory?”

“We remember what we wish to. Always.”

“How much can you remember?”

Tran thought about that before offering, “Depends? A child
can’t remember more than a song, as their minds are still growing. An adult
like me can remember a long poem or story. Our shamans can remember full tales
and histories.”

“So this is a matter of training? A person’s mind can be
taught how to retain things like that?”

“Of course.”

“How?”

Tran waved him toward the ground. “Let us search for stones.
As we gather, I’ll explain.”

Markl, not one to pass up such an opportunity, promptly put
his book away and started searching for stones.

Shaking her head, Siobhan sank to the ground and started
shifting about for stones as well. Wolf settled nearby and asked her with
innocent query, “You’re not going to teach Rune how to sing as well?”

She shot him a heated glare. “Ha. Ha. Ha.”

Unable to help himself, he chuckled at his own joke. “Now,
now, you’re good at many things. It’s just as well you’re not good at singing.”

“And why’s that?” she challenged.

“Keeps you humble.”

“I’m gonna humble you in a minute, mister.”

Not bothered by this, he just shrugged, good hand rooting
about for stones. “How long do we plan to stay in Saoleord?”

Changing the subject already, eh? She eyed him sideways but
went along with it. “I’m not planning anything. I hope for a week, as it’s such
a rare chance to be up there, and you know we’re going to have to drag Markl
back out kicking and screaming.”

Wolf snorted, amused, but didn’t deny it.

“But it really depends on how long they’ll let us stay,” she
finished with a shrug. “We are, after all, coming unannounced. We’re not
entirely sure of our welcome.” And wouldn’t be until they arrived.

“Fei doesn’t seem worried about that,” Wolf observed.

True. In fact, Fei had become progressively more excited the
closer they got to his home. Whatever his reasons for not visiting before, he
obviously wasn’t worried about returning. “Which gives me hope we can stay at
least a week.”

To everyone’s utmost relief, it did not take a full week to
build the path. In fact, it took five days. If not for having two Pathmakers
actively building the path as they gathered stones, it might have taken those
full seven days. Wolf, for one, was extremely grateful it was done. His knees
were sore from the constant crab-like shuffle, and he had a permanent crick in
his neck from looking down.

The light was failing by the time the last stone was put
into place. They could not, of course, use a path without proper sunlight. They
chose instead to stay there that night and leave in the morning. Conli made the
rounds with strong liniment, which he used to rub the soreness out of people’s
backs and hands, as Denney and Fei cooked dinner. The dogs, in spite of not
having worked at all that day, seemed content to lay next to anyone that was
prone and use the humans as pillows.

Wolf lay flat on the ground, staring up at the stars
overhead, his ears tracking the movement of everyone. Tran was on watch, so he
had the luxury to stretch out for the next two hours and let his muscles unwind
after being hunched over for five days solid. One would think that after ten
years, they’d have paths built to every possible destination, but in all
reality they tended to go to the same places over and over. They’d built more
paths in the past year than in the last five combined.

A pair of footsteps he knew well approached and he turned
his eyes to see Siobhan sink down next to him, a familiar bottle in her hands.
“Rub?” she offered.

He sat up immediately, not about to turn her down, doffing
his shirt as he moved. Siobhan shifted about to be behind him, pouring a small
trickle of liniment onto his shoulders before her hands, strong and sure,
settled onto his skin. His eyes closed in bliss. Perfect.

“Me next,” Sylvie insisted, rolling her head around on her
shoulders.

“Of course,” Siobhan assured her.

Wolf silently promised himself that he’d see to Siobhan
after she was done with Sylvie. Knowing her, she’d put herself as the very last
otherwise.

Denney, sitting next to the fire and peeling vegetables,
complained to no one in particular, “It’s too quiet.”

Well, true, everyone was enjoying either lying flat or
getting massaged, so the usual noise and chaos of the guild was muted tonight.

“Wolf? Sing me something.”

Amiably, he nodded. “Fine. Any requests?” From the corner of
his eye, he saw Rune’s head jerk up in astonishment, as if he’d never thought
that Wolf would either know how to sing or be willing to in front of an
audience. He smiled to himself. Kiō had a lot to learn about him.

Denney thought about it for a moment before offering, “That
one you sang last time, about the maiden who saved her village. I like that
one.”

She must, as she normally requested it. Obligingly, he set
up a tempo by thumping the ground with his right iron hand. Then in a low bass,
he started weaving the tale of a fiercesome lass who dared to lead an army of
women to rescue their village from being enslaved. As he sang, Siobhan worked
her way down to his good hand, her movements firm and gentle, head bobbing
along to the tempo he set.

Some might scoff at him, but whenever he sang this song, it
was Siobhan he thought of. The description of the maiden put him in mind of the
woman that had the strength, the courage, and the guts to stride into a black
market and buy a crippled dark mercenary. If ever her city was attacked, he had
no doubt that Siobhan would be the one that would gather up an army and lead
the charge to reclaim it.

He ended on one long note, held steady and clear.

Denney had a wide smile on her face as she said, “Thanks. I
really like that one.”

“Sing the one about the ship rescued by the whale,” Sylvie
requested next.

“I have to have a female partner on that one,” he reminded
her.

“I remember it,” she assured him. “I’ll sing it with you.”

“Well enough then. Lead off.” As Sylvie started singing, he
noted that Rune was slowly creeping closer, eyes wide with wonder, drawn like a
moth to flames. His lips were parted, as if a corner of his heart wanted to
join in on the singing, but of course he didn’t know either lyrics or tune.
Wolf’s heart broke a little in seeing that expression, for he remembered what
it was like, all too well. To see harmony and comradeship in front of him and
yet be unsure how to take part in it—it was a lonely and miserable place to be.

Siobhan noticed it as well. He wasn’t surprised, as she kept
a close eye on Rune. The corners of her eyes tightened in dismay, for she
recognized the hunger in Rune’s expression, but it didn’t seem as if she had
any idea what to do about it. In Wolf’s case, it had taken a solid two years
before he felt really at home in the group. Sometimes, it just took time.

But tonight, at least, he thought he could see a way to
bring Rune more fully in with them.

The song ended and he beckoned the boy closer. “Rune. You
don’t know any tales or songs from Wynngaard?”

Mutely, Rune shook his head in a tight, controlled gesture.

“I’ll teach you.” He gestured toward a spot near his right
knee. “A man should know his heritage. It gives him a centering.”

Rune hesitated openly about taking that invitation.

Fei, still quietly cooking near the fire, said without
looking up, “Teachers open the door. You must enter by yourself.”

Rune’s eyes flickered toward him, weighing, considering.
Wolf was well aware that while Markl and Grae might be Rune’s official
teachers, Fei was unofficially teaching their assassin a great deal about life.
Rune respected him just as much as he did the other two.

In the end, Rune sat where Wolf indicated, waiting patiently
and with his full attention.

“We sing often as we camp out,” Wolf started off. “We tell
tales, make up stories, and the like. It’s best you learn the songs so you can
join in. We’ll start with a refrain.”

“Wolf will sing a certain line, and then sing a verse, and
we all join in at certain intervals with the line he sang in the beginning,”
Siobhan explained.

“It’s the easiest way to learn some songs.” Which was why
Wolf had chosen that type first. “Now, listen close.” Taking a breath, he
started, “
The wind, it blew and carried the scent of winter—”

Rune, unsure of both the lyrics and his singing ability, did
not join in on the refrain the first time, only mouthed the words. But he dared
to put a little volume the second time, and on the third refrain, Wolf could
actually hear him. Kiō had a nice voice, actually. It was mild and smooth,
and pleasant on the ear. He had no reason to be afraid to use it.

When the song ended, Wolf gave him a slight nod of praise,
which made the boy flush a little.

“Rune, is there anything you can’t do?” Denney asked,
sinking down beside him and offering a plate of hot food. “I mean, so far, you
seem to pick up whatever we teach you. You can even sing well after just a few
hours of learning.”

“Not true,” he objected, taking the plate with a ravenous
look. “I can’t cook.”

“That’s a lack of
experience
,” she refuted, not
buying it. “You picked up on it after trying a few times. If you’d stop trying
to cook everything at a high heat, you wouldn’t burn anything.”

Alas, it was the common mistake most people made when first
learning how to cook. Wolf would know. But he admitted to himself privately
that Denney had a good point. Rune not only had a good head on his shoulders,
but had a lot of talents. His potential was wasted as a simple assassin.

From across the fire, Grae cleared his throat and raised his
voice a bare notch above his normal speaking tone. Wolf had to strain to hear
him. “Everyone? As we’re in late spring, I expect the sun to rise fairly early.
Which means we need to be up fairly early. Fei tells me that it will take
several hours to hike the rest of the distance to his home, so we need to get
there sooner rather than later.”

Wolf translated this to:
If you’re wise, you’ll eat
dinner and promptly go to bed.
Grae had great difficulty giving commands
(or even direct yes or no answers) so his guild had to infer what the man
actually wanted to say.

The suggestion was well received. People finished up dinner,
gave and received the last of the massages, and started to roll into their beds.
Wolf kept an eye on things in general as he got ready to turn in himself.
(Although the only thing he did was shuck of his sword and take his boots off.
He refused to do more than that in an unprotected area.) It was not his watch
first, Tran had that dubious pleasure, but he kept one eye open until everyone
was situated. Because of that, he noticed that Rune stayed alert until both
Denney and Siobhan were settled. Only then did their newly minted Pathmaker
fall asleep.

Well. Maybe Conli was right to be worried about Rune after
all.

Chuckling to himself, Wolf closed his eyes and joined his
fellows in dreamland.