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

by Kris Hiatt

  Thinking of Jensen reminded him that he promised the baron’s smith money in the morning to rent the forge. He couldn’t get any more from Moff. He was paid up with Red only through tonight and had no real means of making any other money, but he didn’t care. All he wanted to do was to sleep. He wanted to stop thinking about how he’s failing at his task. He wanted to stop thinking about if he failed in this, he’d be failing all those he loved.

  #

  He awoke with a start and heard heavy boots clomping up the stairs.

  “I said he is sleeping and he needs his rest. It’s barely morning,” he heard Red say.

  “And I told you that I don’t care,” another person said.

  “He was attacked by four men,” Red said.

  “That has yet to be determined,” the same other voice said.

  There was a quick knock at the door before it was flung open. Two armed guards walked inside, Red standing in the doorway behind them.

  “Are you The Wolf?”

  “The one and the same,” Treace said, thinking Moff would be proud.

  “Come with us, please.”

  Treace didn’t see any point arguing; they came here for a reason and didn’t listen to Red, why would they listen to him? He pulled himself to his feet, which took a lot of effort, and started walking toward the door.

  “Please put on some clothes, sir,” one of the guards said.

  He looked down to see he only had on his pants, just like he did last night when he went to bed, the second time at least. He staggered over to his closet and pulled out his only remaining shirt and put it on. He walked back to his bed and although he wasn’t sure he was going to have the energy to get back up once he sat down, he did so anyway so that he could put his shoes on.

  He hoisted himself back up, already tired, knowing he only slept for a few hours and needed more sleep, but knew he wouldn’t be getting any.

  “Lead on, gentlemen,” he said when he thought he was ready.

  He must have been quite the sight, because Red chuckled before covering his mouth and moving down the stairs.

  They led him outside and Treace wasn’t too surprised to see that the sun had barely started its ascent over the eastern horizon. They paraded him back the way he came last night with the guard as his escort and he was mildly surprised when they ushered him into the baron’s palace. He thought he might get to meet Mr. Silver Hair, or the man calling the men to attention at the very least.

  The baron’s complex was beautiful, at least what he saw of it on his short trip before taken inside and down a narrow hallway and then finally to a large door where he presumed he would be meeting someone.

  One of the guards knocked twice on the door and entered. Treace wondered briefly if they had the same knocking rules as they did at the College.

  Once inside, both men came to attention and saluted the silver-haired man that sat behind a simple wooden desk. The morning sun was shining brightly through several small openings in the room that faced the east. It glinted off the older man’s breastplate and Treace found it comical that the emblazoned symbol of the baron that was upon the man’s chest matched exactly the position of the actual sun in the sky while the sun was shining on it. He smiled even though it hurt his lip, but didn’t laugh.

  “I’m not certain what you find humorous,” he said, shooing away the guards. “But I don’t find it funny in the least.”

  “Nothing, sir,” Treace said, no longer smiling.

  “You’re lucky that woman called the guards,” the man said.

  “I am,” Treace agreed.

  “I don’t dislike ladies of the night, but I don’t use them either. But you ought to find her and pay her a good sum on the account of her helping you like that.”

  “I’m sure I’ll find a way,” Treace said, not lying, but not telling the full truth either.

  “I normally don’t follow up on things like this. No one cares as long as no one’s hurt too badly, which you don’t seem to be,” he said.

  “I’ll live.”

  “I said normally, except this isn’t normal. The young man everyone calls The Wolf, gets in a fight with four men while he’s unarmed. I have to hand it to you, you’ve got some spirit.”

  “I didn’t get into a fight, sir. I was attacked.”

  “Well, did you now?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Know who they were?”

  “Not exactly, but I think they were your guards.”

  “Now hold on, you better think hard before you accuse any of my boys of roughing you up without cause. Is that what you’re saying happened?”

  “I’m not saying it happened. I’m telling you it did happen.”

  “Any proof of that?”

  “Well unless he had better medical help than I did, you’ll find a nice imprint of this on his face,” Treace said, pulling his wolf charm necklace from his shirt. “He’ll also have quite a few bruises on his face if I don’t miss my guess.”

  “Okay, suppose I believe it was possible. What else can you give me to go by?”

  “Well, he’s friends with the son of the owner of the Iron Anvil. He’s a big guy, a little taller than you and probably has a broken nose too.”

  Treace could see a hint of recognition on the older man’s face.

  “Guards,” he called.

  The door opened in a hurry and both men had their hands on the hilts of their swords.

  “Not for that,” the older man said. “Go get me Guardsman Plent.”

  “Yes, sir,” both said in unison, saluted, then hurried out the door.

  “You must be a pretty decent fighter to hold off four men like that,” the man said with admiration in his voice.

  “They had me beat, I’ll admit that,” Treace said. “But I’m a much better swordsman.”

  “So I hear. That’s actually part of the reason I wanted to talk to you, but we’ll wait to see if your story is true or not first.”

  Treace merely shrugged and looked at the rising sun through one of the openings. He liked watching it slowly rise, as if it was coming out of the ground, and then finally he would have to look away because it would be too bright to look directly into any longer.

  “Plent will be here shortly, sir,” one of the guards said after the quick two knocks and entry.

  “I said bring me Plent, not send for him,” the older man said sternly.

  “Yes, sir,” both said and left in a hurry.

  “My name is Tabor, and I’m the commander of the baron’s forces,” the older man said, extending his hand.

  “Treace, though you know me as The Wolf,” Treace said, shaking his hand firmly. The man had a very firm shake and Treace winced since he was shaking with his injured hand.

  “Sorry Treace, forgot about that,” he said, motioning toward his hand.

  “It’s okay, sir.”

  “Your parents must be proud. You seem well educated, I know you have manners, and I hear your one damned good swordsman.”

  “My mother is,” Treace said, not knowing why he was explaining. “But my father’s dead.”

  “Sorry to hear that, son. But I know he’d be proud anyway.”

  “Thanks.”

  They stood in silence after that, which Treace was grateful for. His head was really starting to ache, like the rest of his body, and he didn’t feel like talking anymore.

  It wasn’t long before a mostly awake, partially asleep Plent was pushed into the room after the quick two knocks. His face was marked up pretty badly from Treace’s fists, and, more importantly, he could still make out where the wolf paw was marked on his cheek.

  “Easy guys,” he said, talking to the guards.

  “Come here, Plent,” Tabor commanded.

  Plent started moving toward Tabor as he was instructed and then his eyes went wide when he saw Treace.

  “I see you know each other,” Tabor said, inspecting Plent’s face.

  “He’s The Wolf, sir, everybody knows him.”

/>   “It couldn’t be that you know him from the altercation that happened last night could it?” Tabor asked.

  “He attacked us, sir, saying he could take all of us on,” Plent said.

  “Well, from the look of your face, I’d say he did just that,” Tabor said.

  One of the two guards laughed until Tabor shot him a woeful glance.

  “Now, The Wolf here says you attacked him. You say he attacked you. Who do I believe?”

  “Me, sir, I’m telling the truth,” Plent pleaded.

  Tabor turned his head slightly and looked to see if Treace wanted to rebut that comment.

  “When the four men saw it was me, this one said that I was a kiss stealing prick who thought he was the best fighter in the world,” Treace told him.

  “Well, that sounds like something Plent would say,” Tabor said, looking at Plent.

  “I did say that, sir, but not until after he attacked us.”

  “Plent, I know you’re lying and don’t speak another word. I can tell just by looking at you that you’re lying. There’s no way this young man started a fight with four men with whom he didn’t know. Now I happen to know that you’re friends with the barkeep’s son, the one at the Iron Anvil,” Tabor said.

  Plent looked straight ahead and said nothing.

  “The same one that’s dating the pretty young waitress there. You see where I’m going with this?” Tabor asked Plent. To the man’s credit, he didn’t speak, he only nodded.

  “This young man, Treace, or The Wolf, or whatever it is he goes by has more moral fiber in him than you’ll ever have. And ten times the fighting spirit and ability.”

  Plent clutched at his shirt and looked at the ground.

  “You and your three friends, and I already know who they are, will scrub the bathrooms for the next month, and you’re lucky I just don’t kick you out,” Tabor told him.

  “Yes, sir,” Plent said morosely.

  “Now get out, get your friends, and start cleaning.”

  “Yes, sir,” Plent said again before saluting and walking out. But not before he shot Treace a hateful glare.

  “Now, on to the other part I was talking to you about. How would you like a job?”

  “Excuse me, sir?”

  “I know it’s not as fun and rewarding as drinking the nights away, but I heard you asked our smith for a job, so I figured you could use the work.”

  Treace didn’t really know what to say. Was he being asked to be a part of the baron’s guard?

  “Before you say no, let me tell you about the job first so you can see if you might actually like it.”

  “Okay, sir,” Treace said, still a little stunned at the offer.

  “First, the pay is an onner a week, which is quite good, and your room and your food is free. The money is all yours, even the uniform and armor will be supplied. I can’t let you start in the palace, but I’ll let you pick where you’ll start your first patrol, though I would like it if you chose the area around where you’ve been staying. The folks know you there.”

  “Why me?” Treace asked, not sure what else to say.

  “The Wolf has made a nice little reputation already. I’d like to use that and your ability to wield a sword to my benefit. I’d wager you would beat every man not currently a member of my elite guard.”

  Treace couldn’t believe it. Moff’s plan to turn him into The Wolf actually worked. Maybe not how Moff had thought it would, but this would work. Treace could talk to people as a guard, and use his reputation as The Wolf to help him out with it. If he had to be here for another few months, he could sleep and eat for free, and get paid doing it. How hard could it be to be a guard?

  “How many guards are there?” Treace asked.

  “You’d make thirty-one, though there’s usually only thirty. I don’t feel right demoting one.”

  Treace was confused; there were nearly a hundred men in the training yard, not a few dozen.

  “What about the rest of the men in the training yard? They aren’t part of the guard?”

  “They’re part of the guard, sure, but not part of the elite guard. Only a handful of them were there. Most of the regular guards want to be one of the elite, but only the best make it. What you saw was a young man trying to get in, and a veteran proving he still had what it takes, until he met you,” Tabor finished, smiling.

  “Are you saying you want me to be a part of the elite guard, sir?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You could start with yes.”

  “I hope I didn’t harm Primain’s reputation or his standing with the elite guard,” Treace said, thinking of the fight in the training yard. It wasn’t his fault the other men hauled him over the fence.

  “Don’t worry about him. He’s solid and capable of admitting when he’s beaten by a better fighter.”

  “I don’t know, sir,” Treace said, referring to Primain being used to getting beaten. Treace didn’t think he could get used to being defeated often, and he doubted Primain did either.

  “I know it’s not what you’re used to. A guard doesn’t quite get the fame a sell sword does, but I’ll tell you what, you join and I’ll have a set of armor made just for you,” Tabor told him, mistaking his uncertainty regarding Primain for joining the guard. It seemed to work in his favor, though, so he didn’t question it.

  He thought about it for a few seconds. He didn’t have money to eat, or to be able to afford a room. He couldn’t afford to pay the smith for the use of his forge, so he couldn’t use that as a source of income. He knew guards didn’t make much money. He figured this was his best opportunity, thought, and he would be foolish to let it pass.

  “I accept, sir,” Treace told him.

  “Excellent! I’ll show you to your quarters and give you a quick tour.”

  “I would, sir, but I need to meet the baron’s smith this morning. I was supposed to pay him to use the forge, but in light of recent events, I won’t be doing that now,” Treace told him.

  “I’ll take care of that. I’ll send a guard to tell him and we can go on the tour.”

  Treace shrugged his shoulders hoping it would indicate that it worked for him. Must be Tabor understood, because he called for the guards and told them to go tell the smith that The Wolf wouldn’t be there this morning.

  “Thank you, sir,” Treace said after he was out the door and following Tabor down the narrow hallway.

  “Think nothing of it. Now as we come through this door and to the right, you’ll see an exit that leads to the training yard at the far end. Before that, along the wall, are our quarters,” Tabor told him.

  When he came out of the hallway, Treace couldn’t help but slow his pace to take in all that he saw. The hallway spilled out into a massive courtyard, at least twice the size as the one at the College, and two huge marble staircases let up from either side to a second and then a third story. There was a balcony above on the fourth floor that was also made of marble. Treace didn’t have to guess who had access to that balcony.

  Birds flitted about the trees and the colorful flowers that filled the courtyard. Stone walkways crisscrossed their way through the open area, which was centered with a huge tiered fountain where water trickled over its higher tiers and onto the lower ones before spilling over a notch and into a stone trough that ran several paces toward the balcony overhead before disappearing into the ground.

  “It’s from a natural spring,” Tabor told him.

  Treace looked at the man, now his superior, and realized that he had stopped walking and was staring at the fountain.

  “Sorry, sir,” Treace said, only a little ashamed. He had never seen anything so grand and was amazed. Tabor only smiled so he guessed the man had seen many amazed faces in his time here.

  Treace pulled his eyes away from the spectacle and started moving down the hallway.

  “It might be beautiful, but the only time you’re to go out there is if you have du
ty there. The baron can’t have his men seen gawking at the wonders of the place when they’re supposed to be doing their jobs.”

  “Yes, sir,” Treace said.

  “The same goes for the upper floors. Elite guards are stationed at the front entrance, second, third, and fourth floors, two at the entrance, one for each floor. The men at the entrance stand guard, while the men on the floors walk the area. The remaining two circle the complex, each on opposite sides. They work in shifts, each with different days off.”

  “And the men at the far door,” Treace said, indicating the door leading to the training yard.

  “Regular guards. There are a handful of side entrances that the better regular guards watch. Nothing happens, but just in case something does, we mean to be prepared.”

  “Yes, sir,” Treace said again.

  “This is my quarters,” Tabor said, indicating the first door they walked by. “Though I am not to be bothered while I’m there.”

  “Understood.”

  “The next few doors belong to the elite guard. There are hallways leading to fifteen rooms total, two men to a room,” Tabor said.

  Treace didn’t have to be great at math to know that there were only thirty beds in those fifteen rooms; not enough for him since he was the thirty-first elite guard. He simply nodded, figuring he would find out where he would be staying soon enough.

  “This door goes to the important part, the mess hall,” Tabor said, rubbing the armor over his stomach. “Just follow the crowd and you’ll know when serving time is.”

  “And three of the remaining four doors lead to the general barracks, where you’ll stay for now. Sorry there’s no room for you in the elite barracks, but I’ll clear you an area so you can be left alone,” Tabor said, opening the door to the first.

  The room was quite large and had beds lining the walls on each side of the room. A chest was placed next to each bed, with what looked like a small closet attached to the wall over top of it. In the center of the room, tables were placed here and there around the two stone pillars that supported the span of the room. There were a few chairs for each table, and some of them were in various locations throughout the room. There weren’t any men to be found, so Treace figured they all were working.