Deepwoods (Book 1) (35 page)

By some minor miracle, they managed to keep Wolf and Tran
from starting any fights for the next week. Tran’s bruised ribs and limited
movements might have had something to do with that. Regardless, the first wave
of architects and bridge engineers were assembled, supplies packed and loaded,
and Grae’s new path toward Quigg finished.

They assembled in front of the main gate of Iron Dragain in
the cool chill of the morning. Siobhan had her own people in their cart, along
with what supplies they would need for the full trip home. Since they now had
ready paths that took them all the way to Goldschmidt, Siobhan didn’t expect it
to take more than three days to get back to their guildhall. At some point
during those three days, she had to find a moment to talk to Rune about staying
in the guild. She still hadn’t found a moment to do that yet. Every time she’d
tried, she’d either been surrounded by other people, or had been interrupted.
It was more than frustrating.

Rune was fascinated by the whole idea of riding a path he
had helped to build. Beirly had him sit on the top bench with him so he could
have a bird’s-eye view once they got on the path. Siobhan felt that the safest
place to put him anyway—he was less likely to fall out that way.

The total group came out to five architects, two master
masons, and one of Iron Dragain’s jarls, whom Siobhan had met briefly the day
before. Romohr was his name, a stocky fellow that was leaning more toward fat
than muscle. His hair was pitch black—a rarity in this culture—and thick bones
prominent in his face so that he looked like he could crush a rock with his
head. He was apparently one of Jarnsmor’s right-hand men, one that he trusted
completely. Siobhan didn’t find it surprising that Jarnsmor would send someone
to watch over this highly important project and report directly back to him.

Romohr had a silent air about him, making him hard to
approach, but the same could not be said of the head architect, Ardin. If
someone asked her to describe what a model father should look like, she would
have pointed to Ardin without hesitation. He had that comfortable, worn-in look
with the spectacles perched on his nose, shaggy haircut, and loose clothes.
From every pocket—and his outfit sported several—things bulged. She found it a
wonder he didn’t clink as he walked. But the thing she liked best about him was
his ready smile, which he always seemed to have when he saw her.

“Guildmaster Maley!” he greeted with a wave, quickening his
pace to catch up to her.

Siobhan stepped away from the Deepwoods cart in order to
face him. “Master Ardin. Are we ready?”

“Well, we are, or at least I hope we are.” His smile
faltered and stumbled, to be replaced by a worried frown. “I just received word
this morning that part of the Grey Bridge has crumbled.”

For a split second his words didn’t make any sense at all.
When they did, her eyes shot wide and she demanded in a screeching voice,
“WHAT?!”

Ardin winced at the piercing volume. “I’m not sure how
extensive the damage is. The report just said a good stretch of the bridge near
Quigg had fallen into the ocean.”

While she realized that the bridges were several hundred
years old, having been built during the time of governments and kings, they
were also rock solid and had been a dependable way to travel ever since their
construction. The idea that even they might fall apart was akin to telling her
that the moons had fallen out of the sky.

“How is this possible?” she spluttered, feeling as if
someone had jerked a rug out from underneath her. “I just traveled over those
bridges not a few weeks past! They were as solid as Wolf’s head!”

“Hey!” Wolf protested from behind her.

“They might have appeared to be on the surface, only to hide
some internal failure on a deeper level,” Ardin responded, brows furrowed as he
thought. “We won’t know until we get down there and see the situation with our
own eyes. But this is partially what we feared. The bridges are old,
Guildmaster, extremely so. They’ve been battered by nature, storms, time, and
millions of feet pounding on them. I’m astonished they’ve held up for as long
as they did! Especially since they’ve only seen sporadic maintenance.”

Well, he had a point, but still…. Siobhan shook the thought
off. Talking about it here wouldn’t do any of them good. “Knowing that the
bridge has damage, do you need any other equipment or supplies to bring with
you?”

“Most likely, but I won’t know what until I see what the
damage
is
,” he responded with a helpless splay of the hands.

“Then let’s go.” Hopping lightly up onto the cart, Siobhan
made herself visible to the whole group. “Attention, everyone!” she waited
until all eyes were on her before continuing, “I’ve just been told that the
Grey Bridge near Quigg has been damaged. We need to get there quickly and fix
the situation before it gets any worse. Everyone load up, we’re heading
directly to the Quigg path.”

People lost no time in obeying her direction. Within minutes
they were out of the gate, traveling through Sateren’s streets and heading
toward the path that Grae had made near the coastline. Even though Siobhan had
helped him build part of this, she still sat on the cart and admired the path
as Grae explained the rules for the rest of the party. He’d built an evergreen pattern,
something that was capable of carrying an excess of one hundred people. Not
that he’d needed such a large path this time, but the other Pathmaker from
Quigg had requested they do so, in anticipation of needing it in the future. In
the morning sun, the stones glinted in the ground like an ancient mosaic, and
it was quite pretty to look at.

With the directions and warnings given, Grae ducked down to
the sea long enough to fill his flask full of water, then he darted back and
activated the path. They traveled uneventfully straight to Quigg, arriving just
northeast of the city.

Since Ardin was the one with the report, and knew where to
go, she encouraged him to lead the way. They skirted around Quigg’s outer wall—traveling
through the city would have taken more time—and went directly to the bridge.

Turned out, even a blind man would have been able to find
the problem.

Siobhan stumbled to a stop on the shoreline, regarding the
bridge with open dismay. ‘A good stretch’ were poor words to describe the
condition of the bridge and the extent of the damage. Several hundred feet were
simply gone, fallen away into the ocean, leaving a gaping hole in the bridge.
One cart could still pass on the far right side, but certainly not more, and
the once eight-cart width had been reduced to rubble. Even from here she could
see giant cracks in the support pillars and the stonework. “That…does not look
good.”

“Understatement,” Denney groaned beside her. “What
happened?
It was fine when we crossed it!”

“We’ll find out,” Ardin promised, jaw set in a determined
line. “Guildmaster Maley, until we get a chance to thoroughly inspect that
bridge, I don’t suggest that anyone cross it. Especially not any distance,
which you’ll have to do to reach Island Pass. I know that you only intended to
drop us off here and then go home, but can you stay for a few days?”

“We’ll need her to anyway,” Romohr rumbled. Siobhan turned
to look at him, as he had been walking behind her. He met her eyes levelly. “We
will need your Pathmaker. Damage like this can’t wait to be repaired. We’ll
need supplies and masons sent down immediately from Sateren.”

He was right, of course. At the very least, they would need
Grae’s help to send a message speedily to report the situation. “Yes, of
course. Grae!” Her Pathmaker perked up in response to the call. “You be ready
to go back to Sateren whenever they need you.”

Grae gave her a casual salute. “Right-o.”

Even though this wasn’t, technically, her party, she felt
responsible since she was the escort. To Ardin, she said, “We’ll move the carts
closer to the bridge so you can have easy access to any supplies you need. Then
we’ll be on standby to help however we can until you’re ready to send a message
back.”

Ardin gave her a relieved smile. “Thank you, Guildmaster.
Men! Let’s get to work!”

As they went off, Siobhan turned and hailed Sylvie. “Find an
inn that has enough space for us, somewhere that’s nearby. See if you can get
enough food for everyone so that they can work and eat without worrying about
going into the city.”

“Sure thing.”

“Tran, go with her.” With that dispatched, Siobhan focused
on moving the entire crew closer to the bridge.

By the time that they had moved the carts to the very edge of
the bridge and gotten a workstation set up, the architects had crawled over
every part of it. One of them even jumped into the sea and did an underwater
examination. An hour slowly passed as they studied the situation. Siobhan went
from alert and anxious for an answer to dozing in the sun, comfortably propped
in the back of the cart.

“Guildmaster Maley!” Ardin waved an arm above his head,
trying to get her attention.

Whoops! Naptime must be over. She waved back so he knew he
had succeeded, but didn’t try to yell over that kind of distance, just hopped
out of the cart and crossed to him. Markl, who had been sitting next to her,
followed along to also hear the answer. “How is it? How bad is the damage?”

“Bad, but it’s also strange.” He glanced back at the bridge
over his shoulder, eyebrows furrowing. “Guildmaster, I don’t believe this was
natural.”

She went very still as his words penetrated. “Not natural?
Someone did this deliberately?”

“I think so.” His face fell into grim lines. “Oh, they took
the trouble to make it look like it was just the ground giving way under the
supports, so the bridge would collapse on its own, but it’s not like that. I’d
bet my eye teeth someone set a submersible charge and blew apart the pillars.
The way the damage looks isn’t natural.”

Her blood went cold. Who in their right mind would
purposefully try to destroy the bridge? The entire economy of the four
continents depended on the Grey Bridges. Destroying them would cause such
upheaval that most of the poorer classes would starve before the bridges could be
fixed!

As her head was spinning, Markl demanded, “How much time is
it going to take to fix this?”

“I don’t know,” Ardin admitted frankly. “We’re still
assessing how much damage the bridge took. Explosions on a structure like this
will cause fissures throughout the whole frame. I wouldn’t suggest putting any
weight on it right now, not more than we need to, until I can figure out how
dangerous it is. But, Guildmaster, this was a deliberate attack, and I don’t
think that whoever started this is finished.”

Siobhan was very afraid that he was right. Making a snap
decision, she promised him firmly, “We’ll guard you. I’ll send a report back to
Iron Dragain and Blackstone telling them what’s really happened. You write one
as well, give them details so they know what help to send.” Turning, she
ordered, “Markl, get my enforcers over here. We’re setting up round the clock
protection as of
now
.”

He nodded somberly before spinning on one heel and racing
off, calling for people as he went.

Thoughts racing, she tried to consider all angles and
prepare for the worst. “Ardin, I don’t know anyone in Quigg, and honestly, I
don’t know who to trust from this city to call for help. For all we know,
they’re in league with whoever destroyed the bridge.”

“But
why
?” he demanded, throwing up both of his hands
in pure confusion. “The bridges are Quigg’s lifeline when it comes to trade!
Destroying one doesn’t make any sense.”

“This isn’t the work of a rational mind,” she corrected. “It
would take a madman to do this. Regardless, I don’t know who to trust from this
city. I’m calling for reinforcements from Blackstone. We’ll guard and protect
you until they get here. That might take about a week, all things considered.”

Ardin gave her a relieved smile. “Yes, Guildmaster, I
understand. Thank you.”

“Go write,” she ordered before heading to the cart. She
needed to put together messages, and quickly. Fortunately, she had Grae’s paths
set up going to Iron Dragain, so it would be quick getting word back to
Jarnsmor. She wished it would be as easy going toward Blackstone. Someone would
have to spend two days crossing the Grey Bridges before they could even get to
Robarge. Two and a half days there, plus the preparations necessary to form up
a guard of men and bring them all back here. She’d be lucky if it only took a
week to manage that.

The logistics she would worry about later. Right now, she
had around the clock protection to arrange.

The challenge of setting up watch was figuring how to divide
the fighting strength evenly. After all, some of the guild were like minor
deities when they fought, and others were barely capable of protecting
themselves. She didn’t want to put all of the true fighting strength on one
watch, only to leave a different watch weakened.

Even more fun, she had eleven people to sort out in four
different watches, which didn’t divide evenly. Siobhan finally gave up and went
to Romohr, asking if he would be willing to stand watch with her people. He
readily accepted, which surprised her, but as he pointed out, the bridges were
also his responsibility. And he didn’t have anything constructive to do except
oversee things anyway.

She finally settled on Beirly, Conli, and Denney on the
first watch, Fei, Grae and Markl on the second, Wolf, Romohr and Sylvie on the
third watch with herself, Rune and Tran on the last watch.

With that settled, they went their own directions, some of
them going for an early dinner before taking the watch, some of them taking the
chance to explore the city a little more. Siobhan retired early in the inn that
Sylvie had found, only to rise in the pre-dawn hours and quietly dress to face
the day. She snuck downstairs, not wanting to wake anyone, and found that Rune
and Tran were already at the door waiting on her.

Without a word, Tran handed her a steaming meat bun. How he’d
managed to lay hands on it at this obscene hour of the morning, she had no
idea, but she consumed it gratefully.

They walked in the cold night air, huddling in their cloaks
and rubbing their hands together as they traveled down silent streets toward
the bridge. Even Rune, who seemed impervious to cold, shivered a little and
grumbled under his breath.

Rune kept up with her as they walked, eyes searching every
shadow they passed in sheer habit. She supposed paranoia was an occupational
hazard for assassins.

“Siobhan.”

“Hmm?”

“This whole thing,” he waved a hand to indicate the bridge
now visible in front of them, “don’t make sense ta me. Why destroy the bridge?”

“Trade logistics,” she responded promptly. It didn’t
surprise her that he didn’t understand the motivations behind what was going
on. He’d never needed to know or think about things like this before after all.
But she, as a businesswoman that catered professional escorting, had to
understand it just to survive. “Look, the only way to get from Teherani to
Wynngaard is by either using the bridge or going by ship, right?”

“Right.”

“So what happens if the bridge is out of commission? What if
you
have
to send things by ship instead?”

His brow furrowed a bit. “Ain’t it more expensive?”

“It certainly is. Now, if shipping charges go up, prices go
up. It’s inevitable. If prices go up, it has a ripple effect on the market that
will shake the economy. But it’s not just one country’s trade with another
that’s affected. It’s all four because we all use the bridges to get things to
and from Wynngaard. By destroying the bridge, they’ve managed to cause serious
damage to every major trader.” It might outright destroy the smaller traders,
the ones that survived from caravan to caravan.

“Fallen Ward must be behind this,” Tran said quietly,
expression hard.

She nodded unhappily. It was a conclusion that she had
reached hours ago. “They sent assassins to Lirah to disrupt the trade
agreement, but even Wolf said that was nothing more than a delaying tactic.
When it didn’t delay them more than a couple weeks, they hatched another plan
instead: destroy one of the bridges and disrupt all trade entirely. It’ll take
months, if not a year, to repair the damage done. They’ve bought themselves
some time to work on their own bridge.”

“And when it’s fixed?” Rune’s eyes darted between them.
“Then what do ya think they’ll do?”

“Destroy another part of it,” Tran answered grimly. “I think
this will be a never-ending game we’ll play.”

Siobhan was afraid he was right. “I said as much in my
letters to Blackstone and Iron Dragain. I hope they’re planning on dispatching
guards at every entrance to the bridge, to protect them, because we can’t
afford to go through this again. Honestly, we’re lucky that this is fall, and
not in the height of trade season. I can’t imagine how much the economy would
suffer if it was.”

Tran grunted agreement.

They stepped onto the bridge at that point. Siobhan looked
around carefully but didn’t see any signs that there had been visitors. The
bell that they had set up near the entrance was untouched. It was there to
sound an alarm, to call for help when needed, but she hoped she wouldn’t need
to ring it. In this inky black night, the place looked dangerously shadowed.

Wolf saw their approach and waved his metal hand in
greeting, the moonlight glinting off of it. “End of watch?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, walking toward him. “Where’s everyone
else?”

“We discovered we can’t see under the bridge from here,”
Wolf explained, heaving himself off the railing, where he had been casually
sitting. “So Sylvie took up the other side, and Romohr went underneath to keep
watch there.”

That sounded feasible, although she didn’t like the idea of
one man down there by himself, out of sight of his companions. “Are you sure
he’s fine?”

“He found a place where he can keep watch on the whole area,
and Sylvie—” Wolf pointed to where she sat on the opposite side of the bridge
“—can see him.”

Oh. Well, alright, she felt better about that. “I suppose we
should take up the same positions. Alright, who wants to be where?”

Tran raised a hand. “I’ll go down. I think Rune will have a
fit if he’s underneath something for long.” He flashed a teasing, wicked grin
at the assassin.

Rune glared back. “Ha, ha. Fine, I’ll stay up here and keep
an eye on
him
, assumi’n I can see him in the dark.”

“I’ll blend in quite well down there,” Tran agreed, still
chuckling at his own joke.

“I think we’re sorted, then.” Siobhan waved a hand at Wolf.
“Go, go to bed.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Rubbing his hands
together, Wolf called to his fellow watchmen and led them off, back toward the
inn.

Her group went to their designated areas. Siobhan chose not
to emulate Wolf and sit on the bridge’s railing, as the stone was ice-cold and
froze her behind when she tried it. Instead, she paced back and forth, eyes
scanning the area.

Standing watch gave one time to think. Sometimes too much
time. As she walked back and forth, the cold sea wind kept her mind clear and
racing with thoughts. When Markl had come to her all those weeks ago, looking
for a guild to stay with, she’d never imagined that it would turn out like
this. Never mind having to go on an emergency rescue trip across the world, but
she hadn’t expected to adopt an assassin either. She’d grown rather attached to
both of them, but the truth of the matter was, she didn’t have any real hold
over either man. One of them was perfectly frank that he didn’t know how long
he would stay and he had every right to leave whenever he wanted. The fact that
Markl let her order him about was astonishing, really, because any other man
with his background and position certainly wouldn’t put up with it.

Siobhan harbored the suspicion that Sylvie liked him,
perhaps more than she showed. For her sake, she hoped that Markl would
eventually decide to stay. But she also realized that Markl could go anywhere
and be anything he wanted. He had proven to be a very capable and intelligent
man, after all. Why he chose to focus on studying the world instead of running
a business, or creating a guild, was somewhat confusing to her.

On the other hand, she had Rune to think about. Also a
skilled man, he didn’t have any of the connections or backing that Markl had
but he did have every bit the freedom. Their deal ended as soon as she could
get him to Island Pass. What he would do then, she had no idea. Siobhan thought
he’d rather grown fond of her, and liked being in their guild, but that didn’t
guarantee that he would stay. She needed to tell him soon, too, that he was a
Pathmaker. She wanted him to take Grae as a master, but wasn’t sure how to
broach the idea. How could she approach him and extend the offer without
pressuring him into accepting?

“Rune,” she said under her breath, testing out the words, “I
realize our original deal was that I would bring you to Island Pass and then
you would be free to go wherever you want to, but you have to realize that
finding another guild that will accept  you is going to be beyond difficult…no,
wait, that won’t work.” Frowning, she chewed on her bottom lip and thought
about it some more. “Mmm, how about: Rune, I know I said that you can go your
own way when we hit Island Pass, but I hope you’ll reconsider. We’ve all become
rather fond of you and wouldn’t mind if you stayed. Oh. Oh, I like that one
better. It doesn’t pressure him. Although should I also say—”

“SIOBHAN!” Rune thundered in warning, his voice echoing.

She spun about in alarm, boots grinding against the stone,
eyes searching madly for the danger he had seen.

They melted from the darkness, their silhouettes barely
visible in the moonlight as they crossed the bridge.

Siobhan stared at the three men slowly approaching her, all
of them with swords in their hands at an en guard position, their faces masked
by dark hats and night shadow. She drew both of her swords in a hiss of steel
against steel, eyes darting from one to the other in an attempt to keep them all
in her view. A warm presence abruptly appeared at her back with nothing but the
faintest hint of sound, a whisper of displaced air. She started in alarm and
half-turned to glance over her shoulder.

“Hey, Siobhan,” Rune greeted calmly. “I think six men is too
much ta ask for a girl ta take on alone.”

Rune? Oh thank heavens. “You’re quite right,” she agreed
with false neutrality. It felt like her heart was trying to beat its way out of
her chest. “Six?”

“Ya didn’t see the other three sneaking up on ya,” he
explained.

Rain and drought, had there really been three trying to
ambush her from behind?! How had they even gotten there? Did they climb up the
sides somehow? “Rune, my darling?”

“Yes?” he responded with amusement in his voice.

“Guard my back, won’t you?”

“My pleasure,” he assured her, and this time there was a
feral quality in his tone.

They had no more time for words. In the next instant, the
three in front of her sprang forward, swords raised.

Siobhan raised her own, swords crossed, before she exploded
forward, swinging both swords wide to force them to either retreat or block
her. The swords clashed and reverberated in her hands as they struck the
opponents’ weapons. She didn’t stay still but instantly moved again, sliding
the blades up and toward the men. They had to throw their arms up a little,
ducking their heads, to avoid being beheaded. She spun low, knees bent, and
slashed out again, one sword coming up and over her head, the other coming
forward in a deadly arc.

The one coming directly at her swung at her feet and she
nimbly jumped over the blade before landing on her back leg and lashing out
with the front one, catching him squarely in the chest and sending him flying
backward. She spared no attention to how he landed, but instead caught the
blade of the right man with her own sword and spun again, robbing it of its
force and sending him half-stumbling toward his own ally.

Another blade whistled at her in the darkness, only the
moonlight glinting off of it making it visible enough for her to dodge. She had
to kick herself up in a half-horizontal flip to avoid it completely, which
unfortunately put her back within range of all three of them again. As she
landed, she used the proximity to her advantage and put her back to one man,
raising her arm up enough to slam her elbow into his nose sharply three times.
He grunted at each impact, blood spraying, and stumbled back. Not giving him an
opportunity to regain his balance, she kicked his legs out from under him as
she turned again, facing the other two. He landed with a sickening thud, as if
his head had cracked against the hard stone.

Taking a page from their book, she aimed next for their
legs, swords held parallel to each other. But they had also learned from her
and kicked themselves up and over in a sideways flip that neatly avoided the
danger.

Worried, perhaps, that she had better fighting technique
than they did, the last two standing retreated a few steps and gave themselves
some breathing room. Siobhan rotated both swords in her hands with an easy turn
of the wrist, deliberately egging them on.

Not taking the bait, eh? Her breath came loud in her ears,
sweat starting to dew her temples, but she wasn’t tired. She felt warm and
ready to fight. They didn’t seem to have quite her stamina, as their breath
came loud and fast, expelled in white puffs of smoke in this cold night air.