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

by Kris Hiatt

  “Wait! Wait!” a familiar voice said across from Treace.

  Drevic ignored the speaker and struck the would-be robber again. Treace heard another moan.

  “Drevic, it’s us, stop attacking!” the voice shouted.

  “Heral?” Treace asked.

  Drevic stopped swinging his staff and turned to regard the speaker in the dark.

  “Yeah, hold on, let me get my lantern lit. It sounded like you hit Moff hard, Drevic,” Heral said as he hurried to a large outline several more paces away.

  Treace heard a horse nicker and it wasn’t long before Heral lit his candle lantern and rushed over to where the other person lay in a heap on the cold ground. Drevic stood with his staff raised, ready to strike.

  “Moff, Moff! Can you hear me,” Heral said.

  “I hear you, but I think Brother Drevic broke my arm,” Treace heard Moff say weakly.

  “Let me see,” Drevic said, moving alongside Moff and placing his staff on the ground.

  “What are you two doing here?” Treace asked.

  “I shouldn’t even heal you because of that idiotic stunt, but you are a brother, regardless of how stupid you are,” Drevic said to Moff.

  “I’ll explain everything once both of them are listening,” Heral said. “It was supposed to be funny. How’d we know Drevic was going to beat us with that staff of his?”

  “You should feel lucky he didn’t hit you,” Treace said. “You deserve it more.”

  “Me?” Heral asked indignantly.

  “You should have known better than to do something so stupid,” Treace said.

  “It was Moff’s idea,” Heral said.

  “Exacly,” Treace said. “That’s why you should have known better.”

  Heral didn’t say anything. Treace moved to the small fire that he and Drevic had made earlier and started putting more wood on it, trying to relight it with the remaining hot embers.

  “Help me out,” Treace told Heral.

  After a few minutes, Drevic grabbed his staff and stood up. He faced Treace and Heral, who were huddled over the fire by the back of the wagon.

  “His arm’s not broken, which is good for him since magic won’t heal a broken bone, but unless you tell me why you’re here, I might break yours,” Drevic said to Heral.

  “Moff said he wanted me to go with him to talk to the Archmagister, so I went with him,” Heral said. “I didn’t think the Archmagister would even listen, and at first he didn’t. But you know how convincing Moff can be.”

  Treace knew what Heral was saying; it was tough to ignore Moff, and not because he was annoying, but because you wanted to listen to him speak. It was hard for Treace to put into words, so he just nodded.

  “He said he knew you two were up to something and wanted the Archmagister to tell him what it was. He wouldn’t, so Moff said he knew he was failing at finding The Calm, so it was either quit the College, knowing he failed, or he told the Archmagister that he could let him help you so that he wouldn’t feel like a failure.”

  “He said that?” Drevic asked.

  “Yes, and the Archmagister knows Moff’s family and knows how much pressure his father puts on him. He didn’t want to at first, but the Archmagister couldn’t resist and finally gave in to Moff. He said that you would fill him in when we got here.”

  “So why are you here,” Treace asked.

  “He’s my babysitter,” Moff said with a stronger voice. “You really don’t like me, do you Brother Drevic?”

  Drevic didn’t answer.

  “Actually, I have something for you,” Heral said to Drevic. “The Archmagister said he thought of having a courier bring this to you when Moff and I disturbed him.” Heral went back to his horse and pulled a folded paper from his travel sack. He walked over and handed it to Drevic.

  Treace could see that was sealed with wax. He couldn’t see what the emblem was, but assumed it was that of the Archmagister. He realized he didn’t know what the seal of his own Archmagister was. He told himself to remember to ask that question later.

  Drevic unsealed it and read it over. The more he read, the less happy he seemed to be. He got up and started pacing back and forth in front of the fire.

  “This is no trick?” he asked.

  “No, brother, it is not,” Heral said. “The Archmagister said you might not believe Moff, but said you would believe me.”

  “What does it say?” Treace asked.

  “It says that I am to meet the baron when I can and then leave to go back to the College,” Drevic said, tossing the paper in the fire.

  “It took you a long time just to read that,” Moff said.

  “There was more, but that is none of your concern,” Drevic snapped. Treace had never seen Drevic so agitated. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths.

  “I’m sorry, Brother Moffred. I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” Drevic said, much more calmly.

  “What about our plan?” Treace asked, wanting to ensure that Drevic didn’t mean they all were supposed to go back to the College.

  “You’ll continue on as planned. Your journal will need to be perfect,” Drevic said. “And you will now have Moff at your disposal. Good luck with that.”

  Treace realized that he was now in charge of what he knew to be a very important mission for the brotherhood. Either the Archmagister held a lot more faith in him than he did himself, or something very wrong was going on at the College. He hoped for the former.

  “I’m going back to bed, I’m exhausted and we’ll discuss it more in the morning,” Drevic said and climbed back in the wagon.

  “Is there room in there for us?” Heral asked Treace.

  “No,” Drevic said from inside the wagon.

  Treace merely shrugged in response. He couldn’t deny it was nice to see his friends, even if it was under such odd circumstances.

  “We rode hard for three days trying to catch you,” Moff said.

  “My ass is sore,” Heral agreed.

  “Should I ask Brother Drevic to heal that for you?” Treace asked, smiling.

  “He would die first,” Drevic said from inside. “Now go to sleep. I’m waking everyone up early to discuss this.”

  Treace looked at his friends, who were smiling despite Drevic’s commands. He patted each on the shoulder and climbed back into the wagon to go to sleep.

  He could hear Heral and Moff getting their bedrolls from their horses and placing them around the fire. He drifted off soon after he heard one of the two add more logs to the fire to keep warm.

  #

  “Do we really think it will come to that?” Moff asked.

  “I hope not,” said Drevic.

  “Why would the barons fight over such a small city as Kilindric or even the College?” Heral asked.

  “They wouldn’t be fighting, just posting guards in case,” Treace said. He hoped that was the full extent of it, but didn’t think it would be. He didn’t say anything, but he thought of two dogs fighting over the same bone.

  “We have to remain independent,” Heral said.

  “Let us hope,” Drevic said.

  “Do you think Liernin will agree to meet Shamir?” Moff asked.

  “Once again, let us hope that they do,” Drevic said.

  “If they don’t?” Heral asked.

  “Then we have to find another way to gain their trust. That or hope that our claiming to be an independent entity doesn’t anger either of them,” Treace said.

  “That won’t happen,” Moff said. “You don’t know Shamir.”

  “What do you mean?” Treace asked.

  “He’s not one to be slighted. His family has been nobility for generations. He doesn’t take well to being told no, he’s just not used to it,” Moff explained.

  “So by claiming independence, that will anger him?” Drevic asked.

  “Only less so than siding with Liernin,” Moff said.

  “Once Brental meets with him, Shamir will take it as a sign that the College wants his involvement
. Why else come to him now when we haven’t in the past?”

  “I never thought of that,” Treace said. It was clear he was not as informed in the way of nobility as Moff.

  “You don’t think he will simply see it as a good faith gesture for our two causes to work well together?” Heral asked.

  “I believe that is the way Liernin sees it,” Drevic said.

  “That’s because either Liernin is a fool, or he wants you to believe it to be a good faith gesture. I doubt it’s the former, so be careful Drevic, he is a nobleman and wise in the ways of subtlety and diplomacy,” Moff said.

  “How do you know so much?” Treace asked.

  “While Drevic and Heral may be from wealthy families, I come from one of the wealthy families. My family has known Shamir for many years. The Archmagister would have been wise to send me to Kadenton.”

  “Your playful attitude kept you off the list,” Drevic said.

  Moff merely shrugged as if it didn’t matter.

  “Any way you look at it, we have to hope that the Church doesn’t convince either baron that their claims against us are true. That’s the highest priority,” Heral said.

  “Getting the barons back on speaking terms and the trade routes running in full is the biggest priority,” Treace said.

  “They both need to happen,” Drevic said.

  “Why don’t we meet with the Archbishop?” Heral asked.

  “His motives have been clear for some time now,” Drevic said. “Only the Archmagister has been dealing with that himself.”

  “Maybe that’s what the Archmagister wants to talk to you about,” Moff told Drevic.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, there was a courier that delivered a letter from the Church the day you left,” Moff said.

  Treace didn’t remember seeing a courier from the Church, but thought he probably wouldn’t know if he did or not. It wasn’t like the courier would be dressed like a member of the clergy carrying a big sign saying he was with the Church.

  “Possible,” said Drevic. “But for now, let’s get back to our current task.”

  It was confusing to Treace, having come from a much smaller city. Things were much simpler in Lake City. At least it was when he was fourteen. He figured there were a lot of things he didn’t realize were going on while he was there; he was just too young to notice. But the idea of two barons fighting over trade and the Church wanting to take over the College was a bit much for him. His life was simple up until now. He wished it had stayed that way.

  “So after I meet with the baron, you’ll come back with me, Heral,” Drevic said.

  “I don’t know of anyone better suited to live it up as a noble than Moff,” Heral said after nodding to Drevic.

  “That’s because I am a noble,” Moff said.

  “Used to be,” Treace corrected. “You were before you became a brother.”

  “I’m a much better noble,” Moff said.

  “He does have a point,” Heral added.

  “We’ll have to split up,” Drevic said, bringing them back to the plan. “And you will have to change clothes, Moffred.”

  Treace knew Drevic was right. Two people shouldn’t show up claiming to be former brothers while one was still wearing robes of the order. They also shouldn’t be traveling with current members. Treace had changed into traditional clothing yesterday, but Moff was still in his robes.

  “Fine, and then Treace and I will take the horses,” Moff said.

  “I am not a good rider, we should take the wagon,” Treace said. He had only ridden a few times in his life. He wasn’t a noble like the other three and his family didn’t have the money to give him riding lessons his whole life. Most of the horses in Lake City either belonged to the constable or to the lumberjacks who used them to pull the downed trees first to the water, then down the shore to the mill.

  “You don’t have to be,” Drevic told him. “You just have to make it one day. Besides, two brothers who just left the College probably wouldn’t have the money to rent the wagon.”

  “A noble would,” Moff said.

  “A noble from Kadenton, not Haven,” Heral told him.

  “That presents another problem,” Drevic said.

  “How to explain Moff being in Haven when he’s from Kadenton?” Treace asked. “I was thinking about that.”

  “Oh, that’s easy,” Moff said, smiling. “Once a noble, always a noble.”

  “What do you have in mind,” Treace asked.

  “Leave it to me,” was all Moff would say.

  Drevic looked like he wanted to question him further, but must be he decided against it because he simply went to the wagon and pulled out Treace’s travel pack.

  “You two go on ahead, we’ll take our time eating breakfast,” Drevic said, handing Treace his travel pack.

  Treace’s stomach growled at the mentioning of food. They hadn’t eaten breakfast yet and it seemed they wouldn’t get a chance to.

  “You need to change,” Heral said to Moff.

  “I will once I get into Haven,” Moff said. “I didn’t bring anything else with me except my coin purse.”

  “Fine, but don’t go into Haven at the same time,” Drevic said. “A noble and a smith wouldn’t be traveling together.”

  “True,” Moff said, wrinkling his nose. “I can smell him already.”

  “Oh shut up,” Treace said.

  #

  “What made you do it?” Treace asked a few hours after they left Drevic and Heral behind.

  “Do what?” Moff asked.

  “Threaten to leave if you couldn’t join me.”

  “I wanted in on whatever adventure you were on,” Moff said.

  “What if the Archmagister said no?”

  “He wouldn’t have,” Moff said.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “My father’s donations are quite significant, I assure you,” Moff said.

  “So again, why did you do it?” Treace asked.

  “Adventure, remember?”

  “No Moff, really.”

  Moff sighed and Treace could tell this was difficult for his friend. It was true that Moff probably wouldn’t find The Calm, but he still had over a year before he would have been asked to leave the College if he couldn’t find it. So why tell everyone he was going to quit now? It didn’t make sense and Treace wanted to know the truth.

  “Almost everything I have ever done, I have done because my father wanted me to do it. The riding lessons, the dance lessons, and the College. All his idea.”

  Treace could feel for him on that regard. His father had planned most of his life for him, and he was dead well before the plan came together. He didn’t feel like pointing out the similarities, however.

  “The riding lessons and dance I enjoyed. But when he told me that I would be attending the College, I couldn’t help but feel betrayed. He never did anything with me. Sure, he bought me anything and everything, but he never did anything with me,” Moff said, pausing a moment.

  “At first I did everything to please him, but then when I noticed it didn’t matter to him how well I did or didn’t do, I decided it didn’t matter. Why try if it didn’t matter to him? I came to understand that the only reason he paid for everything was so that he didn’t have to spend time with me,” Moff said.

  Treace could see tears welling in his friend’s eyes.

  “When he signed me up for the College, I knew it to be true. I had to leave all my friends behind, all the young ladies that I was, as a young gentleman, supposed to court. All of it was left behind to do something he wanted me to do.”

  “I’m sorry, Moff.”

  “Well,” Moff said, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Now I get to do something that I want to do to help out one of my friends, and he can’t tell me what or how to do it.”

  “I’m sorry,” Treace said again. “But I am glad he sent you to the College. If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have such a great friend.”

  “You’re one s
appy guy, Treace,” Moff said, laughing.

  There was a few minutes of silence that Treace used to think about what his friend had said. He guessed he would never know exactly how Moff felt, but he appreciated what he was trying to do. In some regards, Moff was standing up to a bully, even if the bully was his father. Treace wondered when he would ever stand up to a bully. There had been many, but Wren was the first that came to his mind. He decided that if Moff could do it, so could he, regardless if it was four to one odds.

  “Thank you, Moff,” Treace said.

  “For?”

  “Being here and also just for being you,” Treace said.

  “Sappy,” Moff reminded him, smiling.

  “Have you been in the large cities much?” asked Moff a short while later.

  “No, why?”

  “You’ll need some quick education for the rest of the trip, then,” Moff said.

  #

  After Moff’s instructions, which lasted until Haven came into view, they split up. Treace went first, at Moff’s suggestion, and had just entered the city from the main southwestern road and was approaching the stable.

  The stable was quite large; at least ten times the size of the one in Lake City, and Treace walked his horse to the young stable boy. The boy couldn’t have been any older than seven or eight, and he was quite dirty. His clothes were covered in horse manure, judging by the smell, and he looked like he could use a few more meals than what he was currently getting.

  “I’m looking to sell this horse,” he told the boy.

  “I’ll git Mr. Glendon,” the boy said.

  “How ya doing, young man,” a tall portly man that Treace assumed was Mr. Glendon said after a few minutes. He was clean, for the most part, and was wearing clothes that weren’t covered in dung.

  “Doing well, sir. I’m looking to sell this horse.”

  “Ah, yes. Ya sure ya don’t want me ta just stable it fer ya?”

  “No, thank you,” Treace said. He wanted to tell him why, but Moff told him to be brief and not give away any details when he came to see the horse. He gave him several other tips he hoped to employ to get a fair price for the horse.

  “Well, this mare looks ‘aight, but kinda old,” he said, looking over the horse with apparent attentiveness.