by Kris A Hiatt
Path of Tears
SAGA OF THE WOLF: BOOK II
By Kris A. Hiatt
Works by Kris A. Hiatt
SAGA OF THE WOLF
Path of The Calm
Path of Tears
Copyright © 2016 by Kris A. Hiatt
All rights reserved.
For three of the most wonderful daughters a father could ask for.
If you are reading this, I give you my thanks. Whether you are a friend, family member, a reader who happened to pick this up on a whim, or because you’ve read the first book. Regardless of why, I thank you! Without you, this wouldn’t be possible.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 1
He risked much in returning to his father’s manor just for more money, but at the time Moffred didn’t see any alternative. He knew his friends thought him nothing more than a drunken fool, but he knew he was far from it. Wine was the only thing that helped dull the ache in his head, and more importantly, his heart. He found that no matter how hard he tried, he would never impress his father with any of his accomplishments, and there were many as a young child, so he decided to stop trying. What was the use? It didn’t matter if he succeeded or not. His father would either be disappointed or be completely disinterested in anything he did. So he stopped caring if he succeeded or not, even if he knew that he could. He wondered if his mother would care about his accomplishments. Probably not since she left after he was born. What kind of mother leaves a newborn and a two year-old child behind? He doubted she would care either, wherever she was.
“Good evening, sir, and may Kaden smile upon you,” a man said as he walked by.
“And may he smile twice as wide upon you,” Moffred offered as the expected reply.
The man’s smile widened and Moff couldn’t help but shake his head at the idiocy, or at least at what he thought was idiotic. While he knew most of the men in this small city were extremely wealthy, he also knew most of them felt they were of the same quality of Kaden himself, which Moff knew to be ridiculous. They may have financial wealth, but he knew they lacked the mental wealth, or even the sincerity of heart to be a tenth of the man Kaden was reputed to have been. There was only one person he knew of that he would consider to be close to Kaden’s quality.
That, of course, was Treace, though he knew his friend would not approve of the correlation. He also knew his friend would be worried and wondering where he was and why he hadn’t yet returned to Haven, but Moff felt certain that he was making the right decision by remaining in Kadenton. He had heard there was to be a meeting between Shamir and Liernin, and also knew that Brental had been sent to Shamir as a representative of the brotherhood. While he thought of Brental as nothing more than a huge jackass, he also knew not to underestimate his abilities. If what he had heard was true, then the volatile man had somehow convinced Shamir to meet with Liernin at the College. That also meant that Treace and Drevic had succeeded in convincing Liernin. If Treace had indeed succeeded, he wouldn’t need any more money from Moff. If he didn’t need money to keep the façade of The Wolf going, there was really no reason for Moff to stay any longer. Not practically speaking anyway. But the work he was doing for his father was something he couldn’t let go of just yet and he figured what he was working on would be of interest to Drevic anyway. That and he was actually getting along with his father.
They weren’t exactly best of friends, but at least his father was treating him with a modicum of respect for a change, which he found equal parts disconcerting and pleasant. He had gotten so accustomed to being frowned upon that he wasn’t sure what to think at first. But now that he was getting used to it, he thought he understood, albeit ever so slightly, how his older brother Carth felt. Granted, his father didn’t know that Moff’s original reason for coming home was strictly to get his hands on more funds. Nor did he know that Moff wasn’t doing well in his studies and would most likely be failing out of the College. Moff told his father that he was on an optional break from his duties with the brotherhood. He didn’t mind lying to his father. He much preferred that than to tell the truth and have to find a plausible explanation for why he was failing.
“Moffred!” An excited and familiar female voice exclaimed, pulling him from his thoughts.
“Arys,” Moff said, turning and dipping a low bow. “Wonderful to see your beautiful smile today.”
“And will you see my smile later on tonight?” She asked, offering a lewd wink that would rival Moff’s own.
“Unfortunately, no. I have some errands to run for my father.”
“You work too much,” Arys said in a pouting voice. “It’s already late in the day.”
There was a hint of anger in that pout, something Moff was keen not to forget. Women like Arys were used to getting what they wanted, and didn’t like it when they were told no.
“I could slip in after my errands, but it would be quite late,” Moff offered, only half hoping she would say no. He would be busy trying to chase down information, but she was quite lovely, even if she was quite curvy.
“Do you take me for the sort of woman that lets men in her home at all hours of the night?” she asked sternly.
Moff knew it was a façade. He had entered her home, and her bed, several times in the past month, and on more than one occasion he arrived well after dark.
“Of course not m’lady,” Moff offered with a bow. “I was merely informing you of my availability should you need assistance with anything around your home.”
“Oh really, like what?”
“Perhaps you’ll need to put something on the top shelf in your closet.”
“I have a stool,” Arys told him, seeming quite disinterested.
Moff knew it was a game, and one they had played often, though by now he was running out of clever things to say. Truth be told, he was getting bored with the game. He knew he would need to work late tonight and she was just a distraction. Since he was tired of the game, he decided he needed to get rid of the distraction. Permanently. What he was about to say would hurt her feelings deeply and end their relationship, but he knew it needed to be done.
“Perhaps you’ll find the need for some heavy lifting,” he suggested, using all the charm he could muster.
“What kind of heavy lifting?” she asked, her brow raised.
“Maybe you’ll lose your stool and need help getting into bed,” Moff told her sweetly. He could see the transformation on her face. It went from pleasantly happy to downright angry in just a few seconds.
“You’re a bastard,” she said, walking away with a red face.
“I know,” Moff whispered to himself after she was gone from sight. He wasn’t particularly proud of his comment and could picture the disapproving look that would be on Treace’s or Heral’s face if they heard his remark. He needed to get to work and he was tired of playing her games. Problem solved. Even if his friends would not have approved of his methods.
He shook
the thought out of his head and looked around at the busy city streets. He couldn’t help but to notice the distinct difference between here and Haven, or even Kadenton for that matter. Haven has different sections of the city for each class, and the distinction between them quite obvious. In Kadenton the lines are blurred a little, but there are still classes. He just thought the lower classes were hidden more than in Haven. Here, in Fairmont, there were no classes. All the families that lived here were very wealthy. It was a wealth passed down from father to son. Most of it came from the fertile grounds to the east of town where herbs and spices were farmed. Several families bought up the best ground and charged high prices for their limited wares. Years of that practice left the families very well off. All of the land surrounding the town was owned by one of the few dozen families and none of them would even think of selling even a single inch of it to someone else. To give up land was to give up power, something Moff knew no one really wanted to give up, let alone the rich.
He continued on to complete his errands in Kadenton. It wasn’t long before he reached the outer edges of Fairmont. He paused there for a moment to look down upon Kadenton. While it sat high upon the rocky cliffs overlooking the Gulf of Onneron, Fairmont sat even higher, albeit on a much smaller plateau. There wasn’t nearly enough room for the great city to fit where he stood, but that only helped those that lived in Fairmont to feel like their land, and hence their wealth, was greater than those in the larger city. He didn’t necessarily believe it, but he used to. He guessed his time spent with the brothers in the College had changed his views of things around him.
He walked on the side of the well-traveled road, keeping his feet upon the soft, lush, well-kept grass that lined it. He knew it would take him nearly an hour to traverse the road that skirted around the cliffs. Every now and then the road would be close enough to the cliff’s edge that he could see the many docks that rose from the ocean to line the sheer walls that fell below Kadenton. There were no docks directly to Fairmont. The wealthy couldn’t be bothered to have the numerous working class people in their city just to make the docks run smoothly. Instead, all goods were brought in by wagon from Kadenton. The working class would be in their city for far less time that way, which suited nearly everyone just fine.
~~~
At first, he feared his father had found out about his struggles with his studies at the College and was trying to find him a tutor. But his father never mentioned anything about a tutor or even hinted that Moffred was involved in any way. But here he was at one of the civil centers of the city, waiting for a worker to bring him the requested parchments with information on the College’s former magisters. There were so many residents in Kadenton, there were four such buildings. Their task was to keep records of sales of property, both residential and business. They also kept records on who had paid their taxes and, Moff thought more importantly, who hadn’t. It was after hours in the building. No one else was in there except the worker and it was quiet. Just the occasional shuffling of papers could be heard as the worker went about his business.
He didn’t know why his father wanted to know where the retired magisters of the College were. When he asked his father about it, he was told to forget about why he was doing the job and simply focus on completing the task. He wondered if the former teachers were to be invited to the meeting at the College. It would make sense as to why he was asked to be quick about the task. If they were on a timeline to get the former instructors to the College in time for the meeting, they would need to know quickly in order to prepare. But it still didn’t answer why his father would need to know. He thought that if anyone would want to find the former magisters, it would be the College, not the people of Kadenton. It didn’t make sense to him. Now that he thought about it, the parchment he carried that authorized him to look at, and take, the documents held the seal of Shamir on it. Did the request come directly from him or someone on his council? He was used to seeing the baron’s seal on items in his father’s office. Up until recently, his father had been a constable. He had retired from that and had taken up work as a researcher.
“Here you go, sir,” the middle aged worker said, holding two rolled parchments out to him.
“Thank you,” Moffred told him. He wasn’t looking the worker in the eye, he was looking at the seal on one of the parchments. Several ideas formed in his head.
He walked out of the building and weighed his options. He knew any of the ideas would pose a risk, but he made up his mind and that was that.
He didn’t know why he needed to know more about the magisters, he just did.
~~~
He was glad it was after dark when he finished with the errands. He typically dropped off the parchments in his father’s office, which was in a separate building from their home. At this late of an hour his family was usually asleep and he would only occasionally see his brother Carth when he returned from a night out with his friends or the latest lady he was trying to win over. It was what young noblemen did.
He placed the sealed parchments on the table in his father’s office. He thought about taking them to his room first, but he thought it would be easier to hear someone approaching in the office rather than part of the main house. He didn’t think his father, or anyone else for that matter, would wake up and try to find him, but he wanted to be cautious. He picked up one of the parchments and looked the seal over, noting how the stag stood out in the wax. It was a version of the baron’s seal. He knew the scroll he carried as proof of his duties held the actual seal. He pulled that one from an inner pocket of his tunic and compared the two closely.
There were differences, of that he was certain. The baron’s seal had included the head, shoulders, and two forefeet of the stag, as if it were rearing up to attack something with its hooves. The seal from the civil worker did not include the legs, which was typical. Only the baron was allowed to use the seal that included the legs. Moffred guessed it was a good way to know if a message came from one of his charges or directly from Shamir.
He thought about whether or not he could replace the seal if he broke it and decided that he probably could not. He also wondered if his father would notice if it was missing and knew without a doubt that he would. He knew he couldn’t attempt to remove the seal to find out what was on the parchment. He realized then that he didn’t have to. His father had to remove the seal to read it, so the seals on the other parchments he already dropped off had to be broken. He just needed to find them.
After a short while of looking through the various parchments he found around the office, he knew he wasn’t going to find them. He wondered where they could be. Did his father burn them after he read them? Surely they couldn’t be that much of a secret as to burn them after reading. Perhaps he gave them to Shamir or one of his men. That had to be it. He gave the names he had already collected. He thought for a second and wondered if he or his father would be considered one of Shamir’s men. He thought they probably would. He smiled at the absurdity of that.
Without much thought, he broke the seal on one of the parchments and unrolled it. He quickly scanned the contents and rolled it back up and slid it into his pocket.
He went behind his father’s desk and wasn’t surprised to find the top right drawer locked. Before he was sent to the College this drawer was always locked. But that never stopped him from picking the lock and getting his hands on a few extra coins. It had been a while since he had tried to pick a lock, but he didn’t think he’d have much trouble.
A few minutes later he walked out of his father’s office with the name and location of one of the former magisters and several extra gold coins in his purse. He left a note behind saying his time away from the College had ended and he was returning. He hoped it would be a good enough explanation for his father. Even though his father treated him decently as of late, he guessed it wouldn’t bother him at all to find Moffred had gone back to the College.
~~~
It wasn’t exactly inside the city of Kadento
n, but the property the former magister owned was only a few hours walk outside of town. The house was nearly as large as his family’s home, but unlike the home he grew up in, this one had crop fields all around it. He wasn’t very good with agriculture, but most of them looked like herbs and spices to him.
The path leading to the home from the road wasn’t kept up very well. Grass, weeds, and even the occasional crop grew in the path. Moff guessed it wasn’t traveled often.
The door opened as he approached and a thin elderly man stepped outside.
“Good day sir, may Kaden smile upon you,” Moff offered in greeting.
“Yeah, yeah. And may he smile twice upon you,” the old man replied disingenuously as he gestured with his right hand for Moff to get on with it.
“I’ve come on behalf of Baron Shamir,” Moff explained, handing the sealed parchment to the old man.
“What does Shamir want with an old man like me?” the grizzle-haired man asked, breaking the seal on the parchment and opening it up to read.
“Are you sure you haven’t had another messenger before me?”
“I’m old, not senile,” the old man replied, still looking at the parchment.
“As you can see in the parchment, Magister Kint, there is a meeting he will be attending at the College and he wants you to join him,” Moff explained. He shuffled his feet and the boards of Kint’s front porch creaked under his weight.
The old man raised his eyes to peer over the scroll at him but offered no response. He let his eyes linger over him for a few moments before continuing to read.
Moff waited patiently for him to finish. At least he hoped he looked patient. His heart was pounding he was so nervous. He was fairly good at lying, but this seemed much bigger than a simple lie about where he had been or what he was doing. At least with his other lies he usually had a desired outcome. With this lie, he had no idea where it would lead, nor did he have any idea about what it was that he wanted.
