Page 11 of The Wolf in My Tavern

“Aye.” My father sighs. “I’ve heard he’s employed at the slave markets. The bastard had gotten into debts with the wrong kind and, needing to find cash quickly, sold his daughter off.”

My gut clenches, and I grab my beer and take a hefty gulp before slamming it back on the table. “He still lives, then?”

“He does,” my father says. “I asked around to find out more about him.”

“Are we going to pay him a visit?” As I hold my father’s gaze, I see something. Recognition of his darker side, and understanding, too. He helped Tim track down those who snatched Betsy and dealt with them. The territorial part of me, the part that considers Ada mine, wants to see justice delivered on her part.

He nods once. “Aye, lad, that was my plan.”

“You weren’t going to tell me?” My indignation rises. What part of ‘I’m ready’ did he not understand? Does he still think I’m too young even after I killed a man… more than one?

His face softens. He always did see through my emotions. “You carried yourself well the last time.”

“But?”

“But it’s one thing to take a man in the heat of the moment: when you have to, because it is either him or you. And another to approach violence with premeditation.”

“I saw the bruises on her face,” I say. “Betsy said Ada admitted her father was responsible, that it wasn’t the first time, but a regular occurrence.”

“Aye,” my father says, sadly. “Tim told me what his daughter said. Betsy has taken to Ada and cares for her. I asked around, wanting the facts before taking action.” He raises a hand when I am about to wade in. “Steady, lad. Ada is one who has been dealt much abuse. That does not mean you should react without due attention to the facts. So, yes, I checked. And now I’ve got his full measure, I know that death would be too fucking good for that worthless bastard.”

My heart aches for her suffering even as my fury rises. “I want to go with you.”

He holds my eyes and offers a small smile. “You know I’m going to do something soon, then, do you?”

I am thinking about the sword. “I know you’re not only a blacksmith.”

He reaches for his ale, taking a deep drink before setting it back on the table and smiling at me. “You have your mother’s compassion, and her strength of purpose.” His smile fades. “But that night when we freed Betsy and Ada, I saw you were also my son. I was so fucking proud of you… I remember when you were born, as we stared down at you in wonder, your mother counting all your fingers and toes and cooing over your baby-soft red hair as you fed from her breast. She was no ordinary woman, and now I must acknowledge that, although she is gone, her legacy continues in you. Her blood carries power. And it will shape you into a powerful man.”

I swallow past a lump in my throat. “I want to do my part. To make her proud. Whatever it takes. I despise the Blighten… and as for Ada’s father, I fucking burn with anger at what happened to the lass, and worse, knowing he sold her to pay off his debt and save his own skin.”

“He is not the only such lowlife,” my father says. “And Bleakness harbors more than its share… I’ve got plans for him.”

“What sort of plans?” I demand to know.

“A beating because he is definitely overdue for one. And afterward, he will find himself in a new situation more fitting to his deeds. I know a city guardsman who works at the main gate. Anders will slip him in with the next lot of prisoners bound for the orc mines. They work them hard. Life is cruel and short. Time enough for him to repent his sins. A swift death is too easy for him.”

My nostrils flare. I already know I want to be the one to beat him. I sense my father will approve when I do. “A fitting punishment.”

“I wish I could save them all,” my father says. “I wish I could do more, and suffer much regret that I cannot. Progress is slow, but still moving in the right direction.” He nods his head toward his shoulder, drawing my gaze toward the table where the two shifters are in deep conversation, nursing their ale. “I can’t remember the last time I saw shifters, and never in Bleakness. Their kind don’t frequent such cities. They are here for a reason, mark my words.”

I frown, feeling uneasy again.

“There are rumors,” he continues. “I hear through my contacts, and through Tim. Imperium and Hydornia have allied with the shifters and the fairy kingdoms through the portal lands. Those rumors say troubles brew at the borders, and the Blighten are being pushed back. Distracted by the escalating war and their losses, their domination over Bleakness will slip. I have a feeling that in the future, near or distant, this city might be liberated and known as Port Arden once again.”

I feel a prickling across the surface of my skin and a surge of emotion as these words instill hope.

“What do you think they are here for, then?” My gaze returns to the shifters.

My father shrugs. “They have the look of men who are here with purpose… A personal quest. The darker-haired one is the leader of the duo. Perhaps there are others from their pack here. Shifters are not known for subtlety or finesse when on a quest, and they are assuredly on one… Whatever brings them here, I just hope their actions are not detrimental to the good people of this city.”

I let this sink in with a frown as I watch Ada return to their table with a tray of food. The darker-haired one my father marked as the leader leans toward her as though drawn. His nostrils flare, and his eyes spark with unnatural light.

What the fuck was that about?

He wants Ada.

Something unwholesome rises inside me. A sense of territory, of claiming, and of someone poaching what is mine.

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