Chapter 83

I waved goodbye to Mum as I walked out of the outpost and turned west towards Meravia. My wooden practice sword hung from my left hip, playing into the very normal assumption that I was a growing child. The very real hatchet on my right hip would’ve made anyone with two brain cells to rub together reassess that assumption. Which is why I wasn’t surprised when Victor accosted me before I had even made it to Baron Joss’s fort.

“Oi! Society kid! Where you off to?” called the lanky Farrier’s boy.

At eleven years old, Victor had the makings of a tall man with unremarkable ash brown hair and dull blue eyes — both traits inherited from his father. His two lackeys — Cassan and Poliver — looked like siblings. They weren’t. Both were short, wide, and stocky with faces that looked like they could break bricks. Dark, beady, little eyes stared at me, filled with hostility from beneath pronounced foreheads and maybe a small case of monobrow.

In case it wasn’t obvious, I didn’t like them, and they didn’t like me, which of course meant they needed to talk to me every opportunity they got. Something, something, gluttons for punishment. I couldn’t remember the rest — not that it mattered.

“What’s it matter to you, Victor?” I countered as I tried to keep walking.

Victor and his cronies angled themselves between me and the western road. They were wise enough to stay out of the way of any passing workers or wagons but fanned out to pen me in. Poliver and Cassan already had their hands on their own wooden swords — training weapons they had suddenly gotten after seeing mine.

Of the three only Victor paused warily, his gaze flicking down to the shining metal of the hatchet blade looped through my belt. He licked his lips nervously. Apparently trying to beat up a kid three years his junior wasn’t as tempting when he might actually get cut for the attempt.

“The Lord’s Tournament,” Victor stuttered out, eyes swinging over to meet mine. “You entering?”

By the hells, I hated having to look up at him. While he wasn’t in my personal space, the bastard was so lanky that even outside of the range of my sword’s swing, I still had to angle my head slightly to look him in the eyes.

“No,” I said, keeping it simple.

My answer clearly took him by surprise. His mouth was halfway open as if to say something, before slamming shut, his brows drawing down in what was either consternation or constipation.

“Yeah… well… good. Come on lads, we got to get in a little more practice before the festival.”

Victor shot me one last glance before he led his confused lackeys away back to the other side of the road. A cleared area between the inn and a new tailor’s store seemed to be their training ground. I ignored them and continued west.

Just a little further down the road stood Baron Joss’s keep. The walls were made of stone, enclosing the entire yard where he housed half his guards — the rest having moved their families to Hornpeak with houses built going back into the cleared forest. My eyes couldn’t help but size up the fingerholds in the stone as I figured out how I would go about breaking in if the mood ever took me.

Soldiers in steel breastplates walked the battlements which were a few metres tall. Each one wore a tabard depicting a dark blue mountain on a background of white with a yellow lightning bolt in the corner. The last bit I suspected was a nod to Duke Landrin, who Joss was sworn to.

As I walked past the keep, I got a glance or two from some of the soldiers, but they didn’t ask me to stop. It still took me a few more minutes of walking before the last of the new houses and shops had fallen behind me. Once upon a time, I had known the name of every member of our little community. Now, I doubted I even knew half of them. The silver mine had changed everything, and even after almost two years, I still didn’t know if it was a good thing.

With Hornpeak now behind me, Nazim finally strolled out of the forest. I glared at him, which he either feigned not to notice — or more likely — simply didn’t care. His presence as my guardian was the only reason Mum was willing to let me head over to Griselda and Martin’s place without her or Gramps as escort. I was certainly happy about this newfound freedom and thankful to Nazim for going along with my whims. That didn’t mean I wasn’t annoyed at him though.

“Fat lot of help you were back there,” I said grumpily.

“We wolfkin have a saying — a pup that does not learn to wipe his ass will smell like shit.”

“You just made that up!” I accused.

The curling of his lips told me I was right. “Alright. The actual saying is ‘Spare the pup from injury but not pain.’”

“Yeah… okay, I believe that one,” I replied.

Nazim spoke as his eyes flicked back and forth, constantly scanning the forest for threats.

“Those children were untrained. I could see it in the way they walked and how they stood. You were in no danger and I will not spare you from a little hardship.”

I considered his words as I listened to the sounds of the forest. Nazim walked relatively quietly, and I was running Muffled Aura since I wasn’t good enough to practise casting nightvision while moving yet.

After another five minutes, I broke the silence with my curiosity like a bull charging through a gate.

“Will you ever tell me why you were exiled?”

“Do you really want to know?” Nazim asked, his hunter’s gaze flicking to me for a moment.

“I do.”

“Why?”

I smiled slightly. “I want to know if I need to add them to my list of people to punish when I am big and strong.”

Nazim huffed, his chest flexing beneath his leather armour, and after a second, I realised he was laughing.

“I’m serious,” I said a little hotly.

“I know, little pup. That is why I am laughing! Still, perhaps you will succeed. Very well, I will tell you the story. I was born lucky, a little like you. You know what a Tier two attribute is? Good. When I was born, I already had one. A good one. It is called Celerity, and it makes me very fast when I want to be. Tires me out quickly though. As a pup, I was constantly running about, impossible for the other children to catch, only for them to find me napping in a dark corner with half-eaten food around me.”

“My parents struggled to afford to feed me. They were not wealthy, and I had many siblings. If I had better control, perhaps it would have been alright. But I ate as much as four other wolfkin of my age. So, they sold me to a member of House Fenrith who saw an opportunity in me. My attribute is no bloodline, but I could make for a useful bodyguard if I was well trained. The noble family I was raised in were not in the line of succession at the time, but the pup I guarded was exceptional. It was only a matter of time until he was noticed.”

Nazim lifted his head to face the sky.

“Another branch of the family took note and set out to remove him. A cousin almost five years his senior provoked a response by whispering insults to him where no one could hear. When he lost his temper and returned the harsh words, they challenged him to a duel. As his guardian, I accepted in his place. I saw it in his eyes when I did — the guilt — as it dawned on him that his outburst had been my death sentence. Still, I was raised to hold honor above all else. Even life.”

Nazim huffed then, eyes growing hard. “The fight with his cousin was the hardest of my life. I nearly died three times due to his magic. Lightning is said to be almost impossible to dodge — but as I said, I am very fast when I want to be. I was meant to lose, and I did not. My young lord’s challenger was split from stomach to throat. There was no saving him, and to assuage his family, I was exiled.”

“So, you can never go back, or that side of the Ducal family will kill you?” I asked quietly.

Nazim nodded.

“Huh.” My voice sounded stupid even to my own ears.

“Not what you expected? Will you still seek vengeance on my behalf?” Nazim asked, though his tone was lighter than expected. I thought he might be amused by my response, but it was always hard to tell with the stoic wolfkin.

“...sounds like we would need to wipe out a whole side of the family… I don’t want to kill kids… I mean pups,” I replied dumbly.

“Nor do I. I have come to terms with never going home, Bastian. It has been over five years now. Hussan will be over halfway through his time at Clawcrest by now. He no longer needs me. I will find my own way in this world.”

“By following me?” I teased as I lamely tried to lighten the mood.

“You can’t even walk out of a small remote town in the middle of nowhere without finding trouble. I do not think I will be bored.”

I shut my mouth because I couldn’t argue with his logic — and that was without even telling him about how I had framed the Lady Yalindra Firthtree for theft. The rumours were that her cousin was furious and had sent her to Ajinport — capital of Ajinar — to be some young lady's guardian. I supposed Count Firthholm hoped that would keep his cousin out of trouble. Personally, I had my doubts.

My thoughts went back to Nazim’s earlier words. ‘Spare the pup from injury but not pain.’

“Nazim, would you let me do something risky?” I asked.

The wolfkin searched the road as if trying to figure out what I had in mind. When he found nothing — because there was nothing to find — he finally answered me with a question of his own.

“Right now?”

I shook my head. “No, just in case I decide to do something risky for a Path or Achievement in the future. Would you let me?”

“Depends on how dangerous.”

No matter how much I tried to wrestle a more concrete answer out of him, Nazim refused to give me a yes or a no. My only solution then, if I wanted to do something the wolfkin didn’t approve of, was to somehow evade his incredible sense of smell. My thoughts drifted back to the Greater Skill Seed of Infiltration I had in my stash.

I was still considering the problem when we heard the clang of metal on metal in a steady rhythm.

Picking our way between the large stones that hid the path to Griselda and Martin's house, I couldn’t help but smile. The house itself was made of stone which already set it apart from the rest of the houses in Hornpeak. An open air smithy was directly connected to the main house. Martin stood inside, barechested except for an apron and hairy as a bear. His leather pants were soot stained, and I was betting so was his face. I debated creeping up on him but thought better of it. A few years ago, I might not have considered the consequences of surprising a blacksmith midswing, but these days, I tried to use my sneakiness for good.

Griselda came around the edge of their house, and I watched her wash blood from her hands in one of the many water barrels outside the smithy. She noticed our approach and raised a hand in greeting.

“You’re early,” she called out, her pronunciation having gotten a lot better since I was incapable of shutting up, and Mum engaged her more in conversation since Griselda had started giving me lessons.

“I am. The lessons were boring!” I called back.

Griselda snorted and reached for the hatchet hanging from her belt. It had blood on it as well.

“More time for us,” Griselda said happily and stomped toward our usual sparring ground. I left my wooden sword in Nazim’s care and rushed to meet her. Two weapon Paths were close to being completed, and I would see them done before the next winter no matter what! Even if I had no intention of competing in the Baron’s Tournament.