Read Origins: A Deepwoods Book - a Collection of Deepwoods Short Stories (Deepwoods Series 0) Online
Authors: Honor Raconteur
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Short Stories & Anthologies, #Anthologies, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Coming of Age, #Sword & Sorcery, #Anthologies & Short Stories, #Teen & Young Adult, #Raconteur House, #Honor Raconteur, #guilds, #Deepwoods, #origins, #Young Adult, #Short Stories, #YA, #Fantasy, #pathmaking
“Right before we left,” Sylvie elaborated, stepping back
from Tran. “Because he can’t always tell if men are just flirting with me or if
it’s about to become a sticky situation. So when I think he needs to help me, I
call for a husband.”
Siobhan seemed highly amused at this, her grin stretching
from ear to ear. “Can I do it too? Please?”
Tran was absolutely certain that if Wolfinsky caught her
calling Tran ‘husband’ that the other enforcer would start a fight on the spot.
“Of course you can.”
Delighted, she chortled again, bouncing on her toes in a
happy rhythm. “I almost wish someone would hassle me now.”
“I know, right?” Sylvie agreed, evil hilarity in her face.
“It’s quite fun.”
Before they could actually go find some hapless victim to
play with, Tran decided to re-direct them. “Ladies, cloth?”
Sylvie gave him a look that suggested she had actually
forgotten her original purpose for a moment. “Right, right. Let’s get more.
Siobhan, you said blue, but there’s about four different shades of it.”
Tran let them confer over things, turned sideways to watch
both them and the crowd, and hoped they would be able to get out of the market
before the women loaded him up to the point that he could no longer see in
front of him.
Fortunately, they made it back to the inn before Sylvie
could buy out half of the market. They’d ended up with a total of thirty bolts
of cloth, two cases of white wine, two bags of saffron, a bag of glass beads,
and seven large spools of thread that Sylvie was positive would sell instantly
on the market. He loaded it all into Sylvie’s room with a sigh of relief before
going back down the stairs and heading straight for a table in the main room.
He needed lunch desperately. His stomach was threatening mutiny if he didn’t
feed it soon.
Basically everyone was at the table except Wolf, who was
likely still recovering upstairs.
“I ordered lunch while waiting on you,” Siobhan volunteered.
“Bless you,” he responded fervently as he took the seat next
to her, which made her smile. “Shopping with you two is hungry work.”
“You were very patient with us. I do appreciate that.”
“I stand to profit handsomely from today,” he pointed out,
reaching for the bowls in the middle and loading up his plate with what looked
to be delectable food.
“And arranging a signal with Sylvie, pretending to be a
husband to her when she needs protection, is that because you’ll profit as
well?” There was a knowing tone in her voice. “Jumping into a cold, swift river
to save a man when you yourself are not a confident swimmer, I suppose that’s
also for your own profit? Tran, I do not need a month to evaluate how you will
fit into this guild. If you want a place here, it’s yours.”
His mouth flapped open and closed, lost for words.
Uncertain, he glanced at the other faces around the table.
“You had my vote from the get-go,” Sylvie informed him,
grinning.
Grae didn’t say anything, just smiled and inclined his head
toward Siobhan, silently stating that he agreed with her. Fei nodded,
supporting this, although with his mouth full he didn’t try to speak either.
Beirly was on his right side, and he clapped a hand on
Tran’s back. “The way you fight and work, we would be at a loss without you. So
say you’ll stay, Tran.”
Feeling warm, truly warm, for the first time that day, Tran
beamed at them. “I’ll stay.”
In the spirit of Wynngaardian story-telling (which this
was), Tran ended with, “And that is the story of Tran Amar.”
“It was a fine telling, and I thank ya for it,” Rune
responded promptly. He mulled it over for a moment before offering, “Was that
really all there was to it? They liked you because you were as big as Wolf-dog
and were quick to react?”
“That and I got along with most of the guild just fine,”
Tran admitted easily. “They were desperately short on enforcers, especially
when taking on the larger jobs, and Siobhan was willing to take any decent
fighter that would be good to her people. The fact that I wasn’t lecherous with
Sylvie, or cowed by Wolf, helped cement my position with them. Of course, the
real trick after Siobhan offered me a permanent place was to figure out how to
work with Wolf.”
“Ya fight alongside him all the time,” Rune observed
doubtfully.
“That took time,” Tran denied. “At first, the easiest method
we found was that we divided duties and didn’t step into each other’s
territories. It took a few years before we figured out how to fight back to
back like we do now. Shi-maee almost despaired we’d ever get to that point.”
Rune’s brows were twisted up in a dubious manner. “But I’ve
seen the two of you go out together?”
Tran chuckled. “Yes, we do. Shi-maee sometimes complains
that she liked it better when we didn’t get along as well. Less expensive that
way. Of course we all know better. And it’s not like Wolf and I go looking for
fights.”
“Sometimes fights just find ya,” Rune stated with perfect
understanding.
“Exactly.” Tran walked in companionable silence for a few
minutes. “If I hadn’t joined the guild, I might have gotten tired of this life
by now. I really do like having a place to return to, and a family to spend
time with. As much as I enjoy seeing the world, I wouldn’t have been able to
keep working as a caravan guard forever. At the end of my Learning, I might
have chosen to return home if not for Deepwoods.”
“Your learning?”
“The Learning,” Tran corrected. “It is what my people call
it, roughly, although there’s not a Robargean word that carries the same weight
or meaning. It is what we call the period of time when we choose, as teenagers,
what path we want to follow. We train in that area and live it out for a decade
or so. At thirty, we are given the opportunity to evaluate how we feel about
our life and if we are content, we stay. If not, we are given the chance to
change to a different path.”
Rune followed this closely. “Aren’t you thirty-two?”
“Indeed I am, this winter. So I must find the time to write
home soon and tell them of my decision. I am at the end of my Learning, after
all. I kept thinking we’d travel that direction, and I would be able to tell
them myself, but apparently that won’t happen soon. I’ll have to write to
inform them.” He glanced toward the sleeping camp. “As long as Deepwoods
exists, I will not return home. This is my path.”
A deeply contented sound rumbled out of Rune. “I
understand.”
“Yes,” Tran gave him a small smile, “I thought you would.”
Denney brought a sack of rocks to Rune’s side and dropped
them at his feet, grateful to let go of the thing. “How close are we?”
“Another two thousand ta go,” he told her with a tired
grimace. Dropping his voice, he admitted, “Don’t tell anyone this, but I feel
like an old man when I stand up.”
Considering he had been heckling Tran last night about
moving around like a crotchety old man, that was rich. Not that she didn’t
understand why he felt that way. After spending two straight days hunched over,
she felt about eighty herself. As she had been working all morning without a
break, she flopped onto the grass and drew her canteen out of its side pouch,
taking in a healthy swallow. “If this is what it feels like to be old, I’ll
pass.”
“I’m with ya.” Rune also sat back, then went flat
altogether, groaning as he did. “Owww.”
“Muscles in your back knotting?” she guessed, although it
wasn’t much of a guess—that’s what hers was doing.
“And calves.”
“And the insides of your feet, right?”
Rune opened one eye to look at her. “It’s like ya know.”
Unable to decide whether to laugh or groan, she did both. “I
do. Trust me, I do.”
Siobhan called out to the whole guild, “Take a break! Who’s
on lunch duty?”
Fei and Sylvie raised tired hands. Then, realizing why she
asked, started shuffling in that direction.
“Thank all mercy,” Denney sighed, also lying flat. “I
thought she’d never let us stop.”
They lay in silence for a moment before Rune spoke, tone a
trifle hesitant. “Denney. Can I have your story?”
Denney had grown up in her formative years in Wynngaard. She
fully understood what Rune was asking. “I don’t mind. I heard Tran mention that
you asked his story last night. Are you collecting all of ours?”
“Part curiosity,” Rune offered, turning his head to look at
her. This close, she could see every light blue speck of his eyes mixed in with
the darker blue. “But mostly because I feel like I know ya all better after I
hear the story.”
It was true, Rune was missing a lot of backstory. Of course
that couldn’t be cured in a single day, but telling him how they each came into
the guild was likely to be very helpful. Denney also recognized his question as
an embryonic attempt to grow closer to all of them. This expression of
curiosity was a new one and not one she’d seen much of before. Prior to this,
he only asked if it was pertinent to the situation. It delighted her to see the
change. “Then let me tell you the story of Denney Icean.”
Denney hated traveling. Hated it. Because of her mixed
heritage, she was uncomfortable in both Wynngaard and Teherani. People saw her
milky brown skin, blonde hair, blue eyes, and assumed the absolute worst about
her. So far, Robarge had been kinder, but even here they’d had trouble. The
people in Converse had not been unkind, just unwelcoming. Widstoe hadn’t been
much better.
Her uncle’s skills were such that they were always in high
demand no matter what city they lived in. But he didn’t want to join just any
guild. Conli had to be able to trust that the guild they joined would be kind
and protective of her. That was hard to do with the larger guilds, as no
guildmaster could keep an eye on every single person when they had over fifty
people in their charge. Conli kept hoping for a smaller guild, one with a good
reputation, but so far luck hadn’t been with them.
They’d been in Widstoe for over a year and felt more
uncomfortable with every passing day. Conli asked around and found an open
position in Goldschmidt, which was a much larger city, and thereby had more
guilds to choose from. He told her to pack up, which she did, and without a complaint.
It’s just that moving meant
traveling
. Denney didn’t mind seeing new
places, but the only safe way for them to travel was to join a caravan and it
always seemed like there were a few bad apples in every caravan. Being forced
to deal with them for several days without any real way of escaping made her
beyond nervous.
Conli was a skilled surgeon and Apothecarist, but he wasn’t
much of a fighter. He did his best to protect her and usually got hurt in the
process. It killed Denney every time it happened. For his sake, she hoped the
rumors about Goldschmidt were true, and there really were good guilds over
there. If they didn’t find a place to call home, Conli was going to continue to
be hurt defending her.
Denney hovered just outside the travel board, keeping a
close watch on their luggage, and waited for Conli to return. He’d gone to talk
to the caravan boss in person several minutes ago, leaving her under the charge
of a Widstoe enforcer. The place was more than crowded as it was spring now,
early spring, which was the start of trade season. People were jammed in front
of the board, trying to read over each other’s shoulders, hoping to join some
major trading company or another.
Thankfully, Conli was back within a few minutes, a relieved
smile on his face. He went directly to her, picking up two of the heavier bags
with a slight grunt of effort. “I found one. Better still, they hired an
escorting guild out of Goldschmidt that has a Pathmaker.”
She perked up hopefully. “Does that mean we can go straight
there?”
“Not quite,” he denied, “as apparently no one is going
directly to Goldschmidt. But there’s a caravan that needs to go to Goodliffe
and the escorting guild is returning home to Goldschmidt after that. There’s a
lake and stretch of desert in between us and our destination, and pathmaking
won’t cross those. It’s a roundabout method, but because we’ll travel by path,
we’ll still come out ahead in the long run.”
Denney let out an excited squeal and bounced on her toes.
“So how long will it take?”
“About six days, barring any incidents.”
That was so, so much better than what she’d feared it would
be. “When does it leave?”
“In about an hour. They’re forming up now. In fact, I barely
secured a spot for us.” Conli shifted from one foot to another, anxious to go.
“So we better load on quickly.”
She stuck close to him, using her uncle as a trail blazer as
he led the way to the caravan. They had to go outside of the town, because of
course there wasn’t enough room to form it up inside the town itself. Once
outside, she took in the long line of wagons with a startled blink.
“That’s a very large caravan. A Pathmaker can handle that
many wagons?”
“I’m wondering that myself,” Conli admitted. Looking around,
he spotted who he was looking for and turned that direction. “Guildmaster
Maley!”
A rather pretty woman with fair skin and red hair turned.
Seeing who it was, she waved him forward, although she kept talking to the
giant of a man standing next to her. Denney felt a wave of apprehension sweep
over her. The man had to be Wynngaardian. Ice pale skin and light blond hair
was purely from that continent and nowhere else. He was
huge
. He’d block
the sun if she stood next to him.
Conli paused when her steps faltered, eyes taking in the
same man she was staring at, and dropped back to whisper to her, “I met him.
His name is Erik Wolfinsky. I don’t think you’ll have trouble from him.”
So her uncle had been aware of this man and still signed on?
Denney prayed Conli was right and bolstered her courage enough to walk forward.
“A top of the morning to you,” Siobhan greeted with a
business-like smile. “Master Conli, you’re good to your word, which is helpful.
Is this your companion?”
“Yes, this is Denney. Denney, meet Guildmaster Siobhan
Maley. She’s in charge of the escorting guild for this trip. And this is Erik
Wolfinsky, one of her enforcers.”
“More like my right hand,” she corrected with a more genuine
expression of open affection. “Pleasure, Miss Denney. We cleared a space in our
own cart for your bags, so put them there without a worry. I have two other
enforcers wandering about and another three guildmates aside from them helping
to organize things. We’ll introduce you to all of them as we can.”
“Thank you.” Conli hesitated before asking, “Can we really
travel by path with this many wagons?”
“Ah, that? We’re still waiting on Grae to give us the
answer. The way he was muttering, it likely won’t be possible. We’ll likely
have to split the wagons into two groups. But that’s done easily enough and
will only lose us about a half a day’s travel time.”
That wasn’t too bad. Denney could live with that.
“Wolf, show them where to put their bags. Excuse me, will
you, I want to make sure we’re forming up right and get an answer from Grae.”
Siobhan inclined her head and walked off.
“This way,” Wolfinsky directed and led them the opposite
direction. As he walked, he rumbled in a low voice, “There might be trouble
from some of this lot. They hired on temporary drivers, so we’re not sure if
they’re good men or not. Miss Denney, I’ll introduce you to our other enforcers
after we get your bags stowed, as well as our trader. Our Sylvie’s like you,
too pretty for her own good, so it will help if the two of you can try and stay
together or with one of the enforcers. It makes it easier for us to keep an eye
on you that way.”
The way he said this was not flattery but a sincere warning
and guidance. Denney blinked up at him, surprised by this unsolicited concern.
Was this attitude because it was his job?
“I do appreciate that,” Conli offered with a glance back at
her. “I’d rather not take chances with her safety.”
“Understandable, Master Roroana, and you have my sympathy.”
The man unbent enough to mock-complain, “I have
two
beautiful women to
protect, after all.”
Conli grinned up at him. “I can relate.”
“Here, this is our cart.” Showing a surprising amount of
courtesy, Wolfinsky turned and grabbed the bags out of their hands, lugging
them in one-handed with no noticeable strain. This was astonishing to Denney,
as one of those bags weighed more than she did. So those muscles of his weren’t
just for show, eh?
“We’re glad to have you,” Wolfinsky informed Conli bluntly.
“We’ve no one to tend to injuries on this trip, and while we’re familiar enough
with this route, it’s still better to be prepared.”
“I quite understand,” Conli assured him, “And I’ll be happy
to help whenever I’m needed.”
“Good man. Then, come this way.” Wolfinsky led them off and
toward the front of the caravan, or what was becoming it as things were
organized. Drawing air into his lungs, he bellowed, “TRAN!”
Another giant turned at his hail and Denney’s taut nerves
started to fray. A Wynngaardian was bad enough but this man was Teheranian and
as large as his guildmate. He looked rough, too, with scars on his arms and
three long braids dangling down his back. The man looked perfectly capable of
crushing boulders as a warm up before breakfast. In a deep, mountainous voice,
he called back, “WHAT?”
Wolfinsky impatiently waved him closer, not stopping himself
until they met in the middle. “This is Conli Roroana, an Apothecarist and
surgeon. He’s bought passage with us and will go the full distance to
Goldschmidt. With him is his companion, Miss Denney.” Jerking a thumb,
Wolfinsky finished the introduction, “This thug is Tran Amar, one of our enforcers.”
Without pause, Tran slugged Wolfinsky in the arm for the
insult, which made the other man laugh. That playful punch would have knocked
Denney flat. He took in the pair of them from head to toe in a quick sweep,
eyes widening only slightly to show his surprise at Denney’s appearance, but he
greeted them civilly enough. “Nice to meet you. If you come across trouble,
come to me. I will deal with it.”
Denney believed him. There wasn’t any amount of trouble in
this world that that man couldn’t handle. Especially if Wolfinsky joined in.
“I extend the courtesy to you,” Conli returned sincerely.
“If there’s any way I can help, let me know.”
Tran was about to say something then paused and visibly
changed his response. “Actually, there might be. Wolf, did you warn him?”
“About what?”
“Fei.”
Wolfinsky snapped his fingers. “I forgot. I don’t think
Siobhan remembered it either. Master Roroana, we have one member who has bad
reactions to food sometimes. We’re not sure what it is exactly, we can’t find a
common thread, but he’ll eat something and act like he’s drunk afterwards.”
“It’s our other enforcer, Fei,” Tran added. “He’s not the
type to drink, we know it’s not that, but you wouldn’t think it the way he
reacts. If he does it on this trip, can you check him over and see if you can
find the cause? He’s an entertaining enough drunk, but we’d rather him not go
out of control at random like this.”
Conli’s eyebrows rose to kiss his hairline. “He becomes
drunk after eating foods? I’ve never heard of something like that before. Yes,
certainly, I’ll be glad to take a look at him.”
“Good, thank you.”
“Tran!” a light, unfamiliar voice called.
Tran frowned and gave them a quick bob of the head before
striding quickly in that direction.
Wolfinsky stared in that direction as well, forehead
gathering. “That sounded like Sylvie. It better not be someone hassling her.”
“That happens often?” Conli ventured.
“Sylvie’s the type of beauty that can turn a corner and find
trouble.” Wolfinsky stayed planted for several moments more, listening hard,
but none of them heard anything out of the ordinary. “Huh. She must have just
needed help. Alright then, let me see if we can find Fei.”
They walked up the caravan some more. Denney took note of
the drivers and animals as they went. Most were preoccupied with getting things
underway, or double-checking their wagons to make sure that nothing was amiss.
The few that did notice the trio walking by gave double-takes, and she wasn’t
sure if it was because of her or Wolfinsky. The man was intimidating enough to
make anyone flinch back, especially with that iron hand of his.
Before they could find the last man, the wagons started
moving forward. Wolfinsky stopped dead and growled in frustration. “Already
moving the first group out, eh? Sorry, introductions will have to wait until
tonight when we arrive in Vellshire.”
“Quite alright,” Conli assured him.
“We’ve got about two hours before our part goes through. So
you can move about until then. When we’re ready, go back to the cart and sit
tight,” Wolfinsky instructed. “Don’t move out of the cart at all on the path,
and don’t get down until Grae tells you it’s safe to do so. He’ll be the thin
man with brown hair and bookish look to him.”
“We understand. Thank you.” Conli led the way back toward
the cart, letting the other enforcer go back to his duties. As they walked, he
lowered his voice to a confidential tone. “I didn’t expect there to be a
Teheranian as well. It seems to be a very culturally diverse guild.”
“I’ll say. But he didn’t do more than just blink at me in
surprise.” That was by far the mildest reaction that Denney had ever garnered.
“And the other one, Wolfinsky, was gruff but seemed professional enough.”
“Yes, indeed. I have a good vibe from these people.
Hopefully it will be a smooth trip.”