Path of The Calm (Saga of The Wolf Book 1)

by Kris Hiatt

  As he started to pull himself out of the water he looked toward the bridge and saw that the girl had moved over to this side so she could see him. At first there was a concerned look on her face, but then she must have decided he was okay because she started to laugh. She put her hand to her mouth then placed both hands on the railing of bridge.

  “I’m so sorry, are you okay?” she called out, still laughing.

  While he didn’t find it as amusing as she did, he could understand the humor in the situation and couldn’t help but smile. Her smile and laughter were contagious and he felt himself chuckling at his predicament.

  “That water is cold,” he said as he completely pulled himself from the river and then got to his feet. “But, yes, I am otherwise all right.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said, now only smiling instead of laughing at him.

  “I was quite warm anyway,” he said as he tilted his head back and wiped the water from his short hair. While it was true that she was laughing at him, he knew she didn’t intend to have him plunge into the water and was sure she felt bad. He didn’t want to make her feel any worse than she already did. His body must not have gotten that message, because he started to shiver.

  “Well, then I am glad I scared you. I wouldn’t want you to pass out from the heat,” she said with a grin.

  “Perhaps I should thank you for thinking of my health then,” Treace replied.

  “You probably should,” she agreed, still smiling.

  “Well, thank you my lady,” Treace said and dipped in an exaggerated bow. “Thank you for thinking of my health on this hot day when no one else would.”

  She laughed at that and he found he enjoyed the sound of her laughter and the sight of the smile upon her face.

  He started walking toward the other side of the bridge so he could retrieve his shirt and boots.

  She responded with a courtesy and then said, “You are welcome, good sir.”

  He realized then why she looked familiar. He had run into her the day he was put into the medical for his head wound. It had been more than two years and while she had grown little, she still had changed regardless. She had become more beautiful, more grown up. He remembered some things from that day but not all. He did remember saying things that probably didn’t make much sense at the time and he remembered that she blushed at something he said. He didn’t remember what it was, however.

  “Do you swim here often?” she teased.

  “Do you come here and scare people often? Lying in wait on the bridge and attacking like a wolf when the opportunity arises, shame on you.” Treace had seen a few wolves in the woods and thought they were beautiful creatures, much like this young lady.

  “Oh, so now I am an animal?” she said and put a look on her face that clearly told Treace she was pretending to be hurt.

  “Indeed, you are. A vicious predator that all should be wary of,” Treace said playing along. He reached his shirt then and put it back on. He had to wriggle into it because of how wet he was and it clung to his back. He looked at his boots but thought his feet were still too wet to put them back on so he left them and started to walk toward the bridge. The blocks were warm and felt good under his feet. Water dripped off his pants onto the ground as he walked.

  “Well, I will have you know that wolves are part of a pack, and rarely travel alone. They are brothers of sorts, like a family. But, alas, I am alone, no pack behind me, so I am no wolf,” she explained as he dressed.

  “Well, no wolf then, but perhaps a cougar, they are solitary creatures,” Treace mused.

  “About time you put your clothes on, it isn’t right for a lady such as me to be seen with someone so clothed. Rumors would fly,” she said, ignoring his previous comment.

  “I wouldn’t want you to damage your reputation on my account,” Treace said as he approached her. He was only a few feet from her now and the thought she was truly beautiful. She was also several years older than he was, but that didn’t seem to bother him for some reason. He stopped and bowed.

  “My name is Treace, nice to meet you,” he said, extending his hand to her as was customary.

  She took his hand, only grasping his fingers in hers and curtseyed. She wore a yellow dress that was far nicer than anything his mother owned. It wasn’t the color that made the dress, for yellow was common. It was the beautiful and intricate white lace that trimmed it. The hem of the dress skimmed the ground as she curtseyed; he hoped she didn’t get it too dirty.

  “Good to meet you, Treace, my name is Emiah,” she replied.

  They both stood up and looked at each other in silence for a few seconds. Treace could see that she was trying to sort something out in her mind.

  “Have we met before?” Emiah asked.

  “Yes, we have,” Treace admitted.

  “I thought we might have, but while you do look familiar I don’t recall exactly.”

  “Well, we were not officially introduced, but we have seen each other,” Treace clarified. He wasn’t ready to tell her the complete truth yet. This was pleasant and he didn’t want to ruin it by bringing up potentially bad memories.

  “Oh, well, I’m glad we have officially met.”

  “Likewise,” Treace said.

  “I must be going, Treace, I don’t want to be late for my appointment,” she said after a few moments of silence.

  It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, at least not to Treace. “Of course,” he said. He wanted to add something charming but decided not to. Instead he watched her go in silence. She headed to the east, the opposite direction as he was headed. Her yellow dress danced about her as she walked. He hoped he would see her again.

  After she was out of sight, he went back to the side of the river to retrieve his boots. Now that his feet were mostly dry he put them back on. With that done he proceeded on to the mill, which was only a hundred yards or so from where he stood.

  “Quite lovely, that one,” Mr. Lavare said as Treace neared.

  The woodworker was standing on the top steps leading to the mill and he figured it had to provide a great view of the Spiral Bridge. Treace blushed for reasons of which he wasn’t entirely certain, but declined to comment.

  “By the red in your face I’d say you agree,” Mr. Lavare added.

  “Did the item I ordered come in yet?” Treace said, changing the subject.

  “Aye,” Lavare said and motioned for Treace to follow him.

  He led him to a table off to the side of his workbench. Treace once again noticed all the tools the woodworker used in his shop. There were several tools Treace used for forging, but there were many more in Mr. Lavare’s shop. The woodworker pointed toward a wrapped bundle the length of his arm resting on the table to his left.

  “It came in the day afore yesterday.”

  “Good, I am running out of time,” Treace said as he cut the bindings off the package and removed its contents.

  “Now that’s beautiful,” the woodworker said. “Haven’t ever worked with it, though.”

  “You’ll do fine, Mr. Lavare, you’re the best woodworker I know,” Treace said. Granted, he was also the only woodworker Treace knew, but it didn’t matter much. If anyone in Lake City could make sword handles out of ebony, it was Mr. Lavare. The wood was so dark it was almost black. The grain of the wood showed at only a close inspection. It gave the wood a metallic look. It grew far to the south and was fairly rare. It took over a month to get these two pieces this far north. The cost of these two pieces of wood was roughly the same as what Jensen paid to have Mr. Lavare provide the labor and materials for twenty new blades.

  Mr. Lavare’s only response was to pick up one of the two pieces and run his expert hands over them.

  “What do I owe you for the wood and the work?”

  “One onner and three pieces,” the woodworker said. “And I’m not charging you for the work. It ain’t right charging someone for work on a wood I ain’t worked on afore.”

  Thirteen pieces was a
bout a quarter of what he saved up for his trip to College, but it didn’t matter. He’d gladly give him a jin if he had it. He appreciated Mr. Lavare not charging for his work. He reached into his pocket to pay him but the woodworker shook his head.

  “Pay me when I’ve done the work.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Lavare, I appreciate what you’re doing, it means a lot to me.”

  “Don’t thank me yet, I might mess it up. Now get out of here and let an old man get to work.”

  Treace walked down the steps of the woodworker’s shop and headed toward the constable’s estate. He thought of his time with Exodin and how far his swordplay had come in the last year. He had long ago progressed from just using a sword in his left hand to parry with. Now he was using a sword in each hand, which Exodin said was very rare for someone to be able to do. He still hadn’t beaten Exodin yet, but he thought tonight might be the night that he would. He was close many times, but Exodin always seemed to get his shield in line at the last moment or swipe away his sword with his own just inches away from what Treace thought was a victory. It was testing, but it was also satisfying. He thought it would be very satisfying the day he finally batted the sword out of Exodin’s hand.

  He took the same route that he did the first time that he met Exodin; past the docks skirting the eastern shore headed north. The docks were quiet this time of day; most of the fishermen had already been on the lake and back, and the few small craft that did head downriver would have left at dawn. The lake was calm today and he noticed several gulls were also taking advantage of the calm water. One dove down and plunged into the water. It reemerged quickly and flew off with its lunch in its beak.

  He continued on and waved at the few people he saw as he walked. Eventually he came to the edge of town and the buildings started to recede behind him. The sound of the city, even though it wasn’t a large one, faded behind him. He enjoyed the quiet of the woods. Perhaps it was because he was accustomed to it since his house was outside of town. Whatever the reason, though, it didn’t matter, he enjoyed it.

  As he came to the place in the road where it merged with the road from the other side of town he noticed he wasn’t alone on the road today. He was still a few hundred feet away from where they merged, but there were a few clearings in which he could see through. A young lady wearing a familiar yellow dress was slightly ahead of him on the other path. He increased his pace so he could catch up to Emiah. It had been a little less than an hour since he last saw her, so he was finally dry after his short trip down the river.

  “If you weren’t in front of me I would say you were following me,” Treace said.

  She jumped at the sound of his voice and turned to face him with a hand on her chest as if she were trying to still her now fast beating heart.

  “Oh, my,” she said and took a deep breath. “You scared me.”

  “I apologize, my lady,” Treace said and dipped a quick bow.

  “You should,” she said. “Do you sit in the woods often? Just waiting to scare people like a hunter waits for a deer?”

  “I am no hunter, though if all the prey were as lovely as you, I may become one,” he said before he could think.

  She blushed deeply. She looked as if she wanted to say something but after a few moments she only stood there looking at Treace with a look he hadn’t seen before. He hoped he didn’t make a mistake and drive her off for good. He thought he should change the subject.

  “Are you going to the constable’s estate as well?”

  “Yes, to the manor,” she replied. “Why are you going there?”

  “I am training in sword use with one of the guards,” Treace said. “Why are you going?”

  “I am to have lunch with Wren and the constable,” she said.

  Treace suddenly felt very stupid for his earlier comment. Her response made sense, though; she did specify the manor, not just the estate. He replayed the events of their earlier meeting and the direction in which she came and guessed she lived south of town, where most of the farms are. The dress was far too nice to be on someone who lived on a farm south of town. The constable or Wren had to have purchased it for her. Since he had seen her at the bridge, he wondered why she hadn’t already made it to the constable’s manor. He figured she had an errand in town first.

  “Have you been seeing him long?” Treace asked. He thought it was a fairly innocent question.

  “Only a few times, not that it’s any of your business,” she said in what Treace interpreted as half playful, half serious tones. He thought he would leave at that.

  “Well, since we are headed to the same place, would you like an escort? The path could be dangerous,” Treace said.

  “You are right, a bandit could step from the bushes and rob me at any time,” she said sarcastically.

  “It is possible,” he countered.

  “Probably not likely, though,” she said. “Though I would be honored to have you as an escort in the event you are correct,” she added.

  “Better to be safe than sorry,” he agreed.

  They began to walk toward the estate together.

  “Were you headed to the mill when I first saw you?”

  “Yes, I work at Jensen’s smith and I was checking on an order for sword handles.”

  “Oh, so you’re a sword maker?” she asked.

  “Rarely,” he admitted. “Mostly I make nails and horseshoes. But I do get to make them from time to time.”

  “It still must be difficult work,” she said. He thought she said that only to be polite.

  “Not really. You must live south of town since you were using the bridge, right?”

  “Good guess. Yes, my family has a farm south of town. It’s a decent sized farm, though, but it isn’t the biggest around town.”

  “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a farm girl,” Treace said.

  “I bet there’s a fair bit about me that would surprise you, Treace.” He didn’t doubt that for a second, but didn’t say anything.

  “What does your father do for work, lumber mill?” she asked.

  “Used to, he died when I was seven,” Treace said. “My mother works at the Lumber Inn as a cook and waitress.”

  “Treace, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,” she said. He could see the pain on her face. He also saw pity, which he didn’t like.

  “Don’t apologize, there’s no way you could have known she was a bar maid,” he said, hoping to lighten the mood.

  “You know that’s not what I meant,” she said. Her face was more relaxed, so it must have worked.

  “I know, but it is something that I have come to terms with. It was an accident and while it’s still tough sometimes, I’m mostly over it.”

  “I can’t even imagine. I’m sorry your family had to deal with that.”

  “Thanks.”

  They walked the rest of the way in silence. He figured she was giving him time to reflect on his father, and he appreciated her for it.

  As they neared the estate he could see Exodin far to the left of the road entering the complex while he saw Wren leaning on the rail of the balcony. When Wren saw them he turned and walked back inside. Treace guessed he was coming to greet his date. The idea of that ignorant wretch courting the lovely creature next to him made him sick.

  Treace walked her almost to the gate and left her when Wren passed the fountain, which was only fifty feet or so away. He didn’t want a confrontation here in front of Emiah.

  “Escort is complete, ma’am.”

  “Thank you.”

  Treace followed the fence line toward Exodin.

  “I come to greet my date and find her in the company of another man,” he heard Wren say loudly.

  Treace knew the comment was aimed at him more than Emiah, so he stopped and turned to regard him.

  “Nonsense,” Emiah said. “We were simply two travelers headed in the same direction, that’s all. He is training with one of your guards on how to use a sword. He was being a gentleman and ensured I arrived here safel
y.”

  “Well then, let’s meet this gentleman and thank him for bringing you to me safely,” he said in mocking tones, finally taking his eyes from Emiah for the first time. He looked to Treace and when he realized who he was, his face turned into a sneer.

  “Oh, I apologize, my dear,” Wren began before Treace could say anything. “I thought a man had escorted you. I didn’t realize it was just a boy with you.”

  Treace could see the satisfaction on Wren’s face grow with every word. “Ah yes, Wren, how I missed your brilliant conversational skills. It’s been too long. At least you can use words with more than one syllable now. You’ve made marked progress, I’m so very proud of you!” Treace said. He wanted to avoid the altercation, but Wren started it and now he intended to make him look like the fool that he was.

  “Keep talking and you’ll find that your mouth will get you into more trouble now than it used to,” Wren threatened.

  “Wren,” Emiah said, grabbing his arm. “I am absolutely starving. You’re right, we should leave the boy to whatever it is boys do and go eat. Please.”

  Treace could tolerate Wren calling him a boy; it was just in his personality. But hearing Emiah call him a boy just about ruined his day. Is that all he was to her, just a boy? That stung him so badly he didn’t say anything more as they turned and started to walk toward the mansion.

  “She saved you a beating, you know,” Wren said over his shoulder. “Nice scar by the way,” he added.

  Treace didn’t think Wren would have chanced getting beaten in front of Emiah. Treace was much bigger now than he had been. But, he figured, Wren had always beaten him in the past, what had changed? Only that he gained a little over a foot of height and about sixty pounds of muscle, he reminded himself. And Wren didn’t have all of his friends to help him. Why would he have mentioned the scar, though? Was he trying to bring attention of it to Emiah so she would find him less attractive? He pushed those thoughts out of his mind and once again headed toward Exodin.