The White Wolf (Half-Breed Book 1) (10 page)

Conley held her close, and began muttering, “Why didn't he tell me the Shadow Hand was after him? I could have helped him.”

“He probably thought involving you would only put you and Catrina in danger,” Milea offered.

“How did this happen?” Conley pressed.

“He discovered too many of their secrets, so the cultists had to get rid of him before he could tell anyone,” Varg said. He thought it wise not to tell them about Greenwood, since they probably wouldn't believe that a fellow nobleman would get involved with a cult, much less kill for them.

“How did you two get involved?” Conley asked.

Damn,
Varg thought. He wanted to offer the truth, but he knew that the truth could seem too farfetched for the nobles to believe.

Milea thankfully chimed in before the nobles became suspicious. “We happened upon the whole incident completely by accident, actually, Varg and I discovered Lord Lerington's body in a cavern during a job. We investigated his murder only to become targets ourselves. First we searched his keep in Virland for clues and we found his journal. It was written in Elvish, but I was able to translate his notes and discovered an entry that eventually led us to the stronghold near Wild Valley. Erril lived in the woods near Wild Valley and the Shadow Hand kidnapped her, so we sneaked into the stronghold to find her. Unfortunately, we walked right into an ambush and would have been killed if not for the efforts of the Count and his men.”

Varg was impressed at how quickly and calmly Milea was able to answer Conley's question without a single lie, yet without revealing anything that could incriminate them.

“I see,” the Count answered.

Catrina straightened her demeanor and calmly asked, “What became of my father's remains?”

“My apologies Milady, but we were unable to obtain them,” Milea ruefully answered.

Catrina swallowed hard. “Was he properly tended to at least?”

“I believe so,” Milea assured.

“Lionel will be missed dearly,” Conley said. He then raised his goblet and added, “Tonight, I drink in his honor.”

Conley took one long gulp of wine, then he continued, “Well then, Lionel wouldn't want us to fret over him, he would want us to continue his work against the Shadow Hand. That is why I want to hire the three of you to continue the investigation and bring those responsible for his death to justice.”

“You mentioned his journal before, Milea?” Catrina asked.

Milea nodded. “While I found no mention of his family in the entries, I do believe that based on the way he wrote that he left the journal for someone to find. Was it you, perhaps?”

“I never understood Elvish, so I doubt it was intended for me. He probably left it for Oliva,” Catrina explained.

“Your sister?” Varg asked.

“How did you know I had a sister?” Catrina asked. Once Varg explained the family portrait they found in Lerington's study, she answered, “Oliva is my niece; her mother was my sister. She went to live with her grandfather after her parents died from an illness, but now she stays in Balik at the Academy of Arcane Arts. The poor dear probably hasn't even heard the news.”

“I also worry about her safety now that Lionel was killed. What if the Serpent knows about her?” Conley mentioned.

“You're right. I fear what would happen if she were to return home to find those cultists waiting for her,” Catrina said dreadfully.

“What's left of her home,” Varg muttered, which earned a swift elbow jab to the ribs from Milea.

Fortunately, neither of the nobles heard the remark, for the Count then continued, “Lionel's birthday was supposed to be in the next few weeks, so Oliva will more than likely be leaving school soon to visit him.”

Milea raised an eyebrow. “She could just leave school?”

“Indeed. The Academy is not like other schools where you have to stay for a set period of time and finish your studies accordingly. Students of the Academy come and go as they please until their studies are done. It makes it easier for students to work at their own pace and have a better chance of succeeding,” Conley explained.

“You're certain Oliva will be leaving Balik soon?” Milea asked.

“Absolutely,” Catrina answered. “Oliva is a very dedicated student, but family is first and foremost. She never would have missed her grandfather's birthday.

“Then we need to get word to her before she leaves Balik,” Varg said.

“You're right,” Catrina replied. Then she addressed her husband. “Should we get some of your soldiers together to escort her here?”

“No, it would only draw attention to her if I send a small armada,” Conley reasoned. “I believe this is the perfect job for our friends here. Varg and the others can get into Balik and escort Oliva to Ironbarrow without placing her in more danger.”

“Oliva would never leave school with total strangers unless she had proof of their intentions. You should give them a letter to present to Oliva so she knows they are trustworthy,” Catrina replied.

“You're right, Love.” Conley returned his attention to Varg and said, “Can the three of you be ready to leave by tomorrow?”

“I have no objections,” Varg said.

“Nor I,” Milea concurred.

“Same with me,” Erril chimed in.

Catrina blinked and stared at the girl before she said, “You are but a child. I could never allow you to put yourself in such danger.”

“Who said you could stop me?” Erril retorted.

“My love, I have seen Erril's skills with my own I and I assure you she will be all right,” Conley promised.

“Then you should have armor fashioned for her. I can't stand the thought of a child getting hurt on my watch,” Catrina offered.

“Don't worry, I planned to supply everything they need for this journey,” Conley assured.

Catrina nodded and turned to her guests. Then she said, “The three of you are welcome to stay in the castle for the night.”

“Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Rowan,” Milea said humbly.

“Please dear, call me Catrina,” the noblewoman answered.

“As you wish,” Milea conceded.

“I will have the servants prepare a guest room for each of you,” Catrina said with a nod. She then took her leave while Conley poured Varg and Milea each another cup of mead. Catrina returned a short while later and led them to each a room on the next floor. After Catrina opened the door to Varg's room, he gave his thanks to the noblewoman and stepped inside.

A warm bath welcomed him in the corner of the room. After he closed the door, he stripped and stepped into the hot water for the most relaxing bath he'd had in years.
At least not alone
, he thought with a smile. When he emerged from the water, he dried off with the towel on the little table beside him. Then, he donned only his trousers and sat on the bed.

After sitting in silent contemplation for a few minutes, Varg finally blew out the candle next to his bed and readied for sleep. It didn't take long for Varg to pass out from exhaustion after he finally lay his head upon the pillow and covered his body with the silky sheets. In his dreams he experienced a familiar dream, but one that haunted him all the same.

Varg released his lips from Treasa's kiss only to whisper, “Are you sure you don't want to just elope?”

Treasa shook her head. “I could never get married without the blessing of my parents, even if it's with you.”

Treasa's parents never approved of her relationship with Varg. He was just a drifter, as her father had said, with no home or money to support a wife, much less a family. Treasa was heartbroken, but ultimately decided to keep seeing Varg in secret. After they started becoming more intimate, the strain of sneaking around took its toll. They brazenly tried to make love during the day and as a result, they were caught in the act by Treasa's father.

At first he was angry, but he kept under control so as not to alert the rest of the village of his daughter's affair. Once he calmed down, her father took Varg and Treasa aside and had a long talk with them. The initial conversation was nothing more than judgment and criticism of Treasa's immoral behavior—he didn't seem surprised that a less desirable person like Varg would resort to carnal relations out of wedlock. However, her father surprised them; because Treasa was no longer a virgin, she would not be able to marry a man from a good family as her father had planned. He therefore decided that the lovers would have his blessing only if Varg could earn the money to provide a better life for Treasa than he could.

Now here he was, saying his goodbyes to Treasa before leaving for months to work at a fishery in the south.

“I will miss you,” Varg said gently.

“And I will miss you,” Treasa said on his lips. “I promise I will wait for you.”

Varg only wished that he hadn't left, that he'd convinced Treasa to leave with him and forget about her father's prejudices. They could have gone anywhere in the world and done anything they wanted, as long as they had been together. It wasn't until he returned to Wild Valley that his world would change forever and his heavy heart would always know regret.

CHAPTER 9

VARG MANAGED TO PUT the dream out of his mind by the time he arrived downstairs to the entrance hall for breakfast. Milea already cleared half her plate by the time Varg sat beside her. She bid him a good morning before taking another bite of cheese. Erril soon joined them and looked more rested than she had since they'd met her.

“I can't remember the last time I slept so well,” Milea said.

“Me too,” Varg lied. “It's been so long I forgot how to dream.”

“I can't remember the last time I slept in a bed,” Erril remarked.

Fortunately Milea was able to break the uncomfortable silence that ensued when she said, “By the way, the captain of the guard told me Conley would be waiting for us outside by the stables when we're done.”

Varg scarfed down a loaf of bread and took a big gulp of his drink, then asked, “I'm ready when you are.”

They finished their food, thanked Catrina and the servants once again, and emerged from the entrance hall to the courtyard just outside the castle. Near the gate just before the drawbridge, Varg and his companions found Conley waiting with two horses and a pony.

Conley held up the reigns and said, “I am a man of my word. These horses are for your journey to Balik. The saddle bags contain canteens, medic supplies, and camp equipment for your journey. I have also taken the liberty of writing an order for the guards to allow you entry into the school and I also wrote a letter directly to Oliva so she will know you are trustworthy. I will pay you half of your money up front so that you may use it for expenses, and when you return with Oliva safely I will pay you in full.”

After they received the supplies, Varg, Milea, and Erril mounted their horses and rode to the entrance of Ironbarrow and continued onto the trail southwest. They found the southern edge of the forest where Wild Valley lie and made camp as dusk approached. With the dawn light, the companions packed their camp and set off on horseback once again. The hooves of their steeds clopped on the rocky ground, but soon the flat trail of the Virland countryside led them out of the mountains and the brilliant city of Balik came into view by late afternoon.

The trail led Varg and his companions straight to Balik's gates. The travelers left their steeds in the care of the stable hand nearby and approached the gates, where they were met by the city guard. The guards offered no resistance, but there was a level of tension coming from them that gave Varg the impression that outsiders such as them weren't exactly welcome in Balik. Nevertheless, Varg did as he always did and ignored their stares as he walked through the gates.

As Varg held one of the large doors open for Milea and Erril to pass, Milea turned to a guard and asked, “Where is the Academy of Arcane Arts?”

The guard huffed and answered, “In the Crown District at the heart of the city, but first you have to go through the Trade District and the Commons District.”

Milea nodded, then followed the others through the doors. The Trade District made of the outer circle of the city and, as the name suggested, was made up of various merchant stands, taverns, and shops. The merchants tried to get Varg's attention as he walked past, but he as well as his companions ignored the persistent salesmen and continued towards the next district.

The Commons District housed the residents of Balik. The homes varied from small and humble to larger and finer the closer they came to the final district. The more prominent residents stared at the passing “riff-raff,” as Varg heard the all too familiar whisperers utter, but it did nothing to deter him from his mission.

“It doesn't look like they appreciate visitors,” Milea commented.

“Like I care,” Erril remarked.

The Crown District, the splendor of Balik that set the city's reputation, opened to much taller, polished structures like manors and halls that set the standards for the more common folk in the previous district. The passing citizens of the Crown District scoffed as the travelers dared to set foot in their precious neighborhood and stared accusingly as they waited for trouble to start. It was soon evident that the previous district would gladly throw them a party before the high class citizens of the Crown District would even spit at them.

The Academy was impossible to miss, for it was the tallest building in the district. A large courtyard with a running fountain—Milea pointed out some runes carved into the stonework which allowed for the water to flow—and the very top of the stone building was adorned with three large A's side by side. The Academy also seemed to be the most guarded place in the city not just by men stationed outside the entrance, but also by, to the travelers' astonishment, living gargoyles that marched along the rooftops and balconies just daring anyone to start trouble within their domain.

“What magnificent creatures,” Milea said. “I've heard of such magic used to enchant the statues along castles so that they may offer protection to their masters, but I've never seen it in action.”

Milea and Erril followed Varg to the front entrance of the school where two city guards waited. When they approached, Varg began to pull out the letter from Conley when the guards readied their weapons.

“Halt,” ordered one of the guards, “what is it you are pulling from your pocket? There will be no hidden weapons allowed in the school.”

“Calm down, I'm only presenting a letter from the Count of Ironbarrow,” Varg replied as he removed the paper from his pocket and offered it to the guard.

After the guard accepted and read the letter, he folded it again and returned it to Varg. “Very well, you may enter. Please keep your voice down inside.”

Varg nodded and when he stepped through the doorway, he realized why the guard advised them to be quiet. The entrance hall held an enormous library where dozens of students sat at long, wooden tables and  hovered over parchment and books in silence. The walls were covered in book shelves on either side of the room. On top of the shelves rested a wooden walkway that wrapped around the room and attached to the staircase on the opposite wall from the entrance. This walkway held even more bookshelves, and atop them rested a third walkway that started at the staircase and held even more bookshelves. The three stories of shelves left no speck of wall uncovered and assured that no student would go without the knowledge they needed to succeed.

A walkway that was decorated with a long, ornate rug led from the entrance all the way to a desk that sat directly in front of the staircase. She fiddled with paperwork and wrote something in a book, which hinted that she was more than likely the keeper of the grand library.

Varg approached her as quietly as he could, and asked, “I'm looking for a student named Oliva.”

The woman looked up and blinked when she saw Varg, then said, “What business does a man like you have with a student?”

Varg ignored the tone in her voice and replied, “I am here to escort her to Ironbarrow by the request of the Count.”

He then showed her Conley's pass and, though she still gave him a suspicious look, she replied, “I will return shortly. Please have a seat.”

The woman left her post and retreated into the door behind her while Varg, Milea, and Erril took seats nearby. A few minutes later, the woman emerged with another, much older woman.

The second woman wore rich green robes and had gray hair that was tied up in loose knot. She gave the trio a stern look and said, “My name is Emila Vahn, and I am the headmistress of the Academy of Arcane Arts. I understand that you wish to speak with my apprentice, Oliva. May I ask what business you have with her?”

Varg stood up and stepped forward. “I was hired by her uncle, Conley Rowan, to escort her back to his castle. He would like for her to leave immediately.”

“You will understand that I am skeptical of Lord Rowan hiring a group of individuals off the street to escort his niece to Ironbarrow?” Mistress Vahn replied.

Varg didn't try to hide an annoyed sigh as he once again showed the pass, but Mistress Vahn put her hand up to stop him. “I know that the pass has been authenticated, but I still find it hard to believe that Lord Ronley wouldn't send his own men for such a mission.”

Before Varg could say another word, Milea stepped up. “Headmistress Vahn, with all due respect, the circumstances are very serious and the Lord sent us only because this is a very urgent matter that he trusts us to handle. I can assure you that Oliva will be safe with us.”

“With all due respect,” Vahn replied, “I believe that as her guardian I reserve the right to know why it is appropriate for total strangers to demand I release Oliva to them.”

“I apologize, but Count Rowan requested that this remain a private matter. He wishes to explain things to Oliva in person,” Milea replied. “We have a letter from the Lord to give to Oliva so that she may authenticate our visit as well.”

Emila paused for a moment, then somberly uttered, “Something's happened to her grandfather.”

Varg straightened up and said, “Why would you say that?”

“She's been writing to him for a while with no response. He always took the time to contact her immediately even for simple conversation, but she hasn't heard any word from him since he told her he was going to Rivershire. That was several weeks ago,” Emila explained. Varg and Milea both remained silent, at which point she nodded and said, “I see. I assume this is the private matter in which the Lord wishes to speak to Oliva about, so I will not breath a word to her. She is in my study chambers at the moment working on her last project of the term, so I will bring you to meet with her.”

Emila led them into the higher floors of the school, where they saw various practice halls and corridors full of class rooms. The higher floors were quieter, and it could be assumed that those were the living quarters for students. At the top floor, she veered right and led them to a door on the end. The headmistress opened the door to reveal a large study inside where a petite young lady darted back and forth from bookshelf to bookshelf.

“Oh dear, where is that volume on fire enchantments?” the girl muttered frantically.

“Oliva, you have visitors,” Emila said.

The girl turned to face the headmistress with curious blue eyes. Thin, reddish blonde hair hung over her narrow shoulders and framed her fair face. When she saw Varg and his comrades, she tilted her head as if trying to place their faces.

“I am sorry, but do I know you?” Oliva asked with a soft voice.

Varg cautiously stepped forward and replied, “You don't. Your uncle hired me to escort you to his home.”

Oliva eyed him curiously, almost as if she were trying to read his mind to find out if what he said was indeed the truth. With a tilt of her head, the girl wondered aloud, “What could be so important that Uncle Conley would he hire complete strangers to fetch me from school?”

“It's all in this letter,” Varg said, pulling the sealed paper from his pouch.

Oliva accepted the paper, release the seal, and read in silence. She took longer than any of them had expected, almost as if she reread the paper several times. It was clear that the inquisitive girl had a keen eye for detail in every situation. After several minutes, Oliva finally folded the paper and said, “Yes, this is my uncle's seal and handwriting, but he only says he needs to speak to me urgently. Curious indeed . . .”

“Your uncle asked us not to reveal anything until he and your aunt have a chance to speak with you,” Varg replied.

Oliva pondered in silence, as if trying to search her mind for a correct answer. When she was satisfied, she finally answered, “I do hate to leave school so suddenly, but if Uncle says it's urgent, I have no cause to distrust his reasons.”

“You'll come with us, then?” Varg asked.

Oliva nodded. “Yes, and I suppose we should leave immediately if the situation truly is urgent.”

“Traveling at night would be far too dangerous,” the headmistress objected. “I would highly recommend that you wait until morning. Besides, I'm sure your guests are tired from their trip.”

“I suppose,” Oliva conceded, “but I want to leave at the crack of dawn.”

“We can do that,” Varg answered.

“At the very least, I could finish my work before I retire for the evening,” Oliva said. “Now if I am to leave school and travel to Ironbarrow with people I've never met, could I at the very least know your names?”

“My name is Varg,” Varg replied. He then gestured to his comrades and added, “This is Milea and Erril.”

Oliva's eyes widened at the sight of Milea. “My goodness, you're an elf! I have never met one of your kind before. How intriguing!”

Milea gave a nervous shrug and replied, “I am only half-elf.”

“Even still, I find your language and your culture fascinating,” Oliva cried. “My family has studied the language for generations.”

“How interesting,” Milea said with a smile.

Emila then approached Varg and said, “There is an inn near the entrance to the Commons District. Show them Lord Conley's pass and they should allow you to stay for no charge.”

“Thank you,” Varg replied.

“I will send word to you in the morning once I am ready to leave,” Oliva said.

“Very well,” Varg told her. “We will set out immediately after.”