Deepwoods (Book 1) (36 page)

She had no desire to stay out here all night fighting. Fine,
if they wouldn’t come, she’d go to them. With three quick steps, she closed the
distance and lashed out again.

This time they tried to flank her, each coming around to a
different side, lashing out at the same time. She spun like a dancer, both
swords whistling up and around, blocking the attack and taking her out of the
center of danger.

Siobhan raised one blade high, going for an overhead attack,
and when the other man raised his sword high to block it, she kicked him square
in the chest. His breath exploded from his lungs in a gasp and he stumbled
back, clutching at himself as he struggled to get air.

The last man standing lost his head at seeing his friends
defeated and he rushed her with a growl of frustration. His strikes became
sloppy, predictable, and she smacked him hard in the ribs with one sword as she
fended him off with the other. He doubled over in pure reflex, gasping in pain,
and as he did she rammed an elbow against the back of his neck. With nothing
more than a groan, he slid to the ground face-first with a soft thud.

Siobhan took in a breath and looked around, but none of them
were moving. She whipped around to look for Rune only to find him in the center
of equally still opponents. He looked unfazed by their brief skirmish, and he
had a thoughtful hand against his chin and an admiring look in his eye.

“Injuries?” she demanded of him, not sure if the darkness
was hiding something.

Rune waved this away with a negligent flick of the fingers.
“Fine. But ya know, Siobhan, ya led me ta believe yer not that good a fighter.”

She raised an eyebrow at him as she slid both swords home.
“I’m not.”

He snorted. “Who ya compari’n yerself to? Wolf-dog? Tran? ‘Cause
those two are monsters. Not many can face them. But I watched ya just now, and
ya fought like a goddess of war. Sent chills up my spine, it did.”

“Rune,” she said patiently, “you finished off three
opponents while I was still downing my second one, and you want to say I’m a
good fighter?”

“I’m a monster too, ya know,” he responded with a wicked
grin.

He rather had a point there. Well, perhaps she had
understated her fighting abilities a little. Just a little. But she could argue
the point later, right now there were more important things. “Did they attack
below too? How’s Tran?”

“Fine,” he assured her. “Tran saw ‘em comi’n.”

“Go check on him,” she ordered. “I’m ringing the bell.”

Even though they were more vigilant after that pre-dawn
attack, nothing happened that day or the next night. Siobhan wasn’t sure if
this was a good sign or not. Now that the enemy knew they were prepared to fend
them off, would they change tactics again? Or would they stick to this idea and
simply send in more manpower?

The men they did capture weren’t at all helpful. They were
from a dark guild of Quigg, something similar to Silent Order in Sateren, and
the information they possessed was little indeed. They were hired by a foreign
guild to stop anyone working on the bridge. That was all they knew and all they
cared to know. Questioning them further proved to not only be futile, but
frustrating.

In the end, they turned the whole lot of them over to the
enforcing guild of Quigg—who was delighted to have known criminals in their
custody—and returned to guarding the bridge.

Grae went back with Romohr to deliver reports and letters on
a daily basis, coming back with teams of masons, stones, and mortar so that
repairs could be started. Beirly explained to her that they had a very limited
time to work on the bridge and get anything constructive done. The weather had
to be warm enough for the mortar to set, and they were quickly losing the
year’s heat. When winter set in, they would be forced to stop and wait for
spring.

Perhaps because they were racing against time, both Jarnsmor
and Darrens promised to send guards for the bridges by the end of the week. All
Deepwoods had to do was keep the place safe for another four days.

Siobhan prayed they’d be able to manage that.

This silence and lack of enemy movement made her nervous. It
had been proven to her several times over that if one plan failed, they
wouldn’t give up, but simply switch to something else. She also realized that
so far, they had never been able to predict what their enemy would do next.
This uncertainty of what to expect made her stomach tie itself into knots. How
could she possibly prepare for the unknown?

Siobhan retired that night uneasy, and even though her bed
was inviting and warm, she kept tossing and turning on it. Four days. They had
to hold out for four days and then it would be someone else’s problem to worry
over. For what had started as a quick rescue mission, she certainly had become
involved in a lot of the world’s problems.

Growling, she flopped over onto her other side with a squeak
of bedsprings, punching her pillow a little to fluff it up, trying to get her
nerves to settle. Sleep. She needed to sleep. She was on third watch this time and
it would mean getting up in five hours. Siobhan was not the type to function
well on only a few hours of sleep, so it was vital to get whatever rest she
could.

Her eyes slowly closed. Deep breaths. Conli had taught her
how to relax each main muscle, breathing deeply as she did so, in order to fall
asleep. Feet first. Calves. Thighs. Back. Good, she could feel herself
relaxing.

The sound of a bell being frantically rung reverberated
through the still night air, loud enough that she could clearly hear it through
the shuttered window.
DONG DONG DONG.

Her eyes flew wide and she threw back the covers, hastily
throwing on clothes while trying to jam her feet into her boots at the same
time. She didn’t even bother to belt on her swords, just grabbed them, flinging
the door open and racing down the stairs. Three rings meant someone was on the
bridge, an enemy, and she needed to get there
now
.

Everyone stumbled out of their rooms at nearly the same
time, but she wasted no breath calling for a head count, just kept going. The
cold air slapped her in the face as she made it through the front door, making
her gasp for breath, but that didn’t make her falter either. She lengthened her
stride, running at full speed. Even still, Tran and Rune quickly outstripped
her, Fei following close on their heels. How in the four winds could they be so
fast
? She wasn’t that slow!

It was just as well that they were that fast.

Her heart stumbled over a beat when she finally came into
full view of the bridge. This wasn’t the half a dozen attackers of two nights
ago, but what looked to be a full guild of fighters. Every person on the bridge
was engaged with at least two opponents, fighting hard and desperately, but
there were still some enemies left over with…were those barrels? Small kegs? In
this hazy moonlight, it made it hard to see details.

Markl, who was panting along behind her, managed to gasp
out, “Those are…black powder barrels, aren’t they?”

Her blood ran cold when she realized he was right. Great
wind and stars! Were they planning on finishing the job and blowing up the rest
of the bridge?!

Making a snap decision, she barked out orders. “Denney, set
the dogs on them, harry them so they can’t light those fuses. Sylvie, call for
more help, we’re going to need it. Conli, Markl, help me push those barrels off
into the ocean. If they’re wet, they can’t be used.”

She heard and registered the chorus of assents, but did not
focus on them, just sprinted the last distance and engaged the nearest men.
Like their compatriots two nights ago, these men wore dark clothing and black
cloth wound about their faces. She could only see the whites of their eyes as
they looked up, seeing her approach.

They’d been laying out fuses, rags rolled up with oil and
black powder, preparing to blow the kegs. She quickly hacked through three of
them and kicked them aside, taking precautions against them being used, before
charging forward.

It quickly became a melee of confusion. These men weren’t
better swordsmen than the last ones she’d faced, but they had numbers on their
side. Siobhan quickly found herself fighting back-to-back with Markl, her
swords a blur in her hands as she fought desperately to not only protect
herself, but him. All around her were the sounds of Pyper and Pete barking and
snarling, the clang of metal clashing against metal, and the grunts of pain
when a weapon struck flesh. The sounds didn’t tell her if they were winning
this fight or not, but it was distracting to her, as she couldn’t decipher who
was hit, friend or foe.

Her opponents were less focused on her and more focused on
quickly getting the job done and leaving the bridge as fast as they could. It
made them sloppy, distracted, and Siobhan found an opening to down two of them.
As they fell, a gap opened up, letting her access two of the kegs. “Markl?”

“Go!” he encouraged her, the weapon in his hand rotating as
he simultaneously blocked one strike and slashed at another.

She had no time to question if he were truly alright against
three opponents. Siobhan trusted his judgment and darted forward, kicking the
kegs out of their place and quickly rolling them toward the uneven edge of the
bridge before forcing them to fall into the water. They fell, one after
another, with satisfying
splashing
sounds, the cold sea water spraying
upward and onto her in the process. Shivering, she wiped the drops from her
face as she turned back and raced to Markl.

Three barrels had not significantly helped. Markl had
defeated one man while she had her back turned, and as she watched, he slashed
at another, sending the man to the ground with a gasp of pain. Her eyes scanned
the area, head jerking as she looked this way and that, trying to take it all
in. It was complete madness, no matter where she looked. Almost everyone was
fighting, black-clothed figures lying still on the bridge. To her dismay, she
saw Tran leaning against the railing behind Fei, one arm clamped around his
ribs. Oh no, had he reinjured himself? Conli had been very clear that he
shouldn’t be fighting for another three weeks yet.

Where was Sylvie with those reinforcements?!

But worse than all of that, she could see several barrels farther
along the bridge, on the other side of the destroyed section, and they were
perfectly fine. None of her people were anywhere near them, either. How had
they managed to get all the way over there, past the people on watch, she had
no idea. But it was a problem she would have to deal with, as she was the only
one free to do something about it.

Swearing, Siobhan ran toward the next group of barrels,
skirting as close to the edge of the bridge as she dared to avoid getting
tangled into any of the fights. She reached the trio of barrels stacked against
each other and without ceremony kicked it into the water.

Good. Next.

She could hear footsteps thundering behind her and found
that Markl was struggling to catch up with her. He was shouting something, but
she couldn’t quite decipher the words, and only his tone got through. He was
worried, frantic about something, and pointing ahead of her.

What? Siobhan turned her head, looking up, trying to see
what it was that had panicked him so.

In front of her, several feet ahead, was a small light on
the ground that traveled forward quickly. For the second time that night, alarm
shot through her and cold dread seized her heart as she realized what it was.
The enemy, in desperation, did the one thing she didn’t want them to do. They
had lit one of the fuses and were even now trying to disengage with her guild,
desperate to get off the bridge before it blew.

Siobhan swore viciously and stretched out her legs, trying
to run faster toward the kegs waiting nearby. At this point, she couldn’t make
it off the bridge in time before those things exploded. Her only hope was to
get to the barrels and dump them into the water first.

“Siobhan, NO!” Markl screamed behind her.

She didn’t glance back, didn’t do anything but strive with
every muscle in her body to beat that fuse. “GET OFF THE BRIDGE!” she screamed
as she ran, not sure if the rest of the guild realized what was happening
during the heat of the moment. “GET OFF, GET OFF, GET OFF!”

In that moment, she reached the kegs.

And so had the fuse.

Something hard slammed into her, forcing her swords to drop
from her hands. Siobhan barely had time to grunt at the impact as she sailed
through the air before her body hit the hard, icy water of the sea.

Heat exploded through the air, brushing past her face
briefly before her head went under the water.

The world went black.

ӜӜӜ

“CONLI! GET HERE NOW! SHE’S NOT BREATHING!”

The words faded, and darkness descended again. Vaguely she
was aware of being cold, cold enough to shiver and shake, with wet clothes
clinging to her. A sense of wrongness stirred in her mind but she found it
impossible to react to it.

“Markl?!”

A sloshing noise, and water sprayed over her face, followed
by a male grunt of effort.

Markl…this was important. Markl was in trouble. Markl had
fallen with her.

It faded from her, sealed again with darkness before she
could act or react.

“—on her back, seal your mouth over hers and blow hard.”

Her back touched cold stone, hard and unforgiving. Something
warm touched her mouth and air was forced into her. She twitched ever so
slightly under the force of it. The air came again, stronger, and this time her
lungs filled with it. In instinct, she weakly pushed away and tried to roll to
her side as the sea water in her lungs rushed forward. Gasping, wheezing for
breath, she coughed and spluttered, grimacing as the harsh salt in the water
scraped at her throat. It felt like a sea monster had crawled into her mouth
and died, very messily.

“Breathe, Siobhan,” Wolf sounded frantic, panicked, as he
rubbed a hand over her back in soothing circles. “Breathe. Throw all that water
up and breathe.”

She did her best to comply, drawing air frantically into
deprived lungs. Stars swam in her vision for a few moments as she battled for
proper breath. As soon as she felt she could manage it, she grabbed his arm and
demanded hoarsely, “Markl?”

“He’s fine, he’s fine,” Wolf assured her. He wrapped an arm
around her waist and hauled her up so that she could lean against him. “We
pulled him out after you, and look, see? He’s breathing.”

She managed to get her eyes focused on where he pointed.
Markl was being supported by Conli and Sylvie as he also coughed up seawater
and struggled to breathe. He lifted his head and saw her, and relief flashed
over his face. She waved at him, and he choked on a laugh as he waved back.

Relieved, she sank back against Wolf and let him support her
completely. “Tell me we’re all accounted for.”

“We’re all here,” he answered, shrugging out of his coat and
draping it around her. “It was only you and Markl that we almost lost.”

Good? She was sort of glad to hear that, anyway. “The men
that attacked?”

“We defeated some, but they ran before the bridge exploded.”

Of course they had. “More mercenaries from a dark guild,
huh.”

“Probably,” he agreed.

“The bridge?” she looked up to see the situation with her
own eyes. She and Markl had been dragged onto the banks near the bridge. The
gap that had been there previously was larger now, longer than it had been, but
she was beyond relieved to see that most of the bridge was still intact. At
least this way, they wouldn’t be set back and forced to rebuild a full section
of the bridge. Her insane bid to try to protect it had partially succeeded,
then. “Who pulled us out?”