Fallen Ward (Deepwoods Saga Book 3) by Honor Raconteur Page A

sheer number of men they’d captured. It overwhelmed them. They hadn’t been prepared for the prisoners to outnumber the guards. Nuel Hammon sent up more people to help. Finally, after many, many, many meetings, they were able to sort things out. The prisoners were split up as a work force and sent to Stott and Channel Pass, and some of course stayed in Goldschmidt. They were to help rebuild what they had destroyed. With them split up and scattered as they were, it made things easier to manage.
    Even with this problem solved, they couldn’t immediately move back in. A whole section of Goldschmidt had been burned during the first battle, after all, which unfortunately included her guildhall. Siobhan stood on what used to be her front stoop and surveyed the scene with tears in her eyes. Wolf had described it to her, of course, but seeing it herself made it infinitely worse. There was nothing left. It was all charcoal timbers and ash and black soot staining the ground. Anything of value had gone up in smoke. Fortunately, the majority of their guild funds weren’t kept here, but in a secure vault in Blackstone. Also fortunately, their enemy hadn’t figured out how to open it, so the funds were intact. Otherwise, she hadn’t a clue how she would afford the rebuild.
    “Siobhan?”
    Startled, her head snapped around. “Grae.”
    His eyes were kind, sympathy and empathy blending, as he had been as attached to the place as she was. But he didn’t say any comforting words to her. Instead, he came to stand beside her, slipping an arm around her shoulders.
    “This time, can I have my own workroom? Beirly’s a space hog.”
    Not expecting this, she choked on a laugh. “Is that right? Well, you’re going to have to wrangle the idea past him. He’s the one planning the rebuild, after all.”
    “That’ll be easy. He didn’t want to share with me to begin with. We just had to, because Conli really did take priority over us.”
    Well, yes, the man had to have a sterile environment to treat people in. Not something that was covered in wooden shavings and chemicals and dyes. “You’d better talk to him quickly. As soon as this mess is clear, we’ll rebuild.”
    Grae blinked at her. “Really? But Guildmaster Darrens is still at the inn in Converse.”
    People had been talking about that the last few days, why Darrens hadn’t yet moved back into Goldschmidt. Siobhan knew why—only half of his compound was standing. He was in the same position as she was—he would have to rebuild at least the basic living quarters before they could move back in. “His house itself is intact, but not the housing for his people. He won’t move back in until everyone has a place to sleep, at least. And it’s not like there’re any tents left in the city to be had.”
    “Oh,” Grae intoned, a wealth of understanding in that single syllable. “I hadn’t realized it was that bad.”
    “I hadn’t either, until I was talking to him about it yesterday. He’s encouraging people who can come back to do so. After all, we’ve been burdening Converse and Winziane for several weeks now.”
    “It’s hard to be convincing when the head guildmaster himself doesn’t do it.”
    Yes, that was exactly the problem. “Well, I plan to move back as soon as I can. Can you bring us all here tomorrow? My goal is to have this place cleaned out in two days. That way we can start working.”
    “Certainly. Darrens is just having me ferry people and building supplies back and forth, so I can bring you all with me on one of the trips. I’m not sure how available I’ll be to help with this, though.”
    She wasn’t surprised by that. “We need you and Rune to continue doing what you’re doing. We’ll handle the grunt work.”
    Grae’s expression suggested that didn’t sit right with him, but he was also accustomed to the fact that as the only master Pathmaker in Goldschmidt, he often was exempt from the dirtier chores simply because he was needed