Page 4 of The Wolf in My Tavern

Chapter Two

Callum

I’m roused from my sleep by a gentle hand shaking me.

I blink my eyes open to find my father leaning over me. It is the middle of the night and the room is dark save for the moonlight spilling through the window.

My father is fully dressed.

I frown and rise slowly to a sitting position, my heart thudding as I realize what this is about.

My father is a blacksmith, but he’s also known as a sympathizer to those involved with the rebellion against the orcs. Bleakness lives under a cloud. There have been many occasions when my father left our home in the night. My ma would stay with me when I was younger, and I never knew what was happening. It was only after she passed, and I’d be taken to stay with a neighbor on those nights, that understanding came, and I would wait, terrified, until he returned home.

Sometimes there’d be bruises. One time, he came back with a broken arm. His hammer was always bloody, and I’d know that he’d done violence in the name of the cause.

I swallow thickly. “I’m coming with you.”

He shakes his head.

“I’m a man now. I’ve been for a while. Let me come with you, whatever it is.”

I see the softening in his face before he nods once. “Dress quickly, lad. And bring your hammer.”

My blood pounds fast and heavy through my veins. I shake as I shove my feet into my pants, rip my nightshirt off over my head, and quickly don my shirt and a heavy leather jacket. I thrust my feet into boots and rake my hand through my hair.

Fuck. This is happening. I am really going to get involved. I want to. I burn with anger at the injustice that shrouds this city. For the most part, the orcs leave us alone. Yet we are all aware of a dark underworld that is part of Bleakness. My father has helped with many tasks, from smuggling people out of the city to passing information on, and even freeing slaves from the markets.

I fetch my hammer from the workshop. It’s sturdy and heavy. I had a smaller one when I was a lad. As my skill grew, the hammers I used got heavier. Working at a forge all day apprenticed to a blacksmith builds muscle and strength. This is a full-size hammer now and I wield it every day.

But I’ve never wielded it in violence—I’ve never needed to. Sometimes, though, when I go to bed of a night, I’ve imagined myself at my father’s side, helping him to right the many wrongs this city is renowned for.

Now, I will finally play a part.

“Come with me,” he says. We head out the back of the house and into the cobbled alleyway. He’s quiet, and I follow his lead. What I don’t expect is to slip into the back courtyard of the tavern that is no more than a dozen doors down and into the stables. Tim, the proprietor of The Green Man, is waiting for us. He is a human-orc hybrid who looks human save for he has pink, pointed ears, is seven feet tall and is as broad as a barn.

There is another man with him. This one wears leather armor with a sword at his waist and a thick cloak over his shoulders. He is young: perhaps a similar age to me.

“Heath, thank you for coming. And you bought your lad,” Tim says, nodding at me.

“Aye,” my father says. “Callum is ready.”

“I appreciate the help,” Tim says. “This is Jacob. A former slave and now a warrior to the fairy caste who live beyond the portal. He has done this before.”

“When I heard that Betsy had been taken,” Jacob says, his voice low and steeped with fury, “there was no fucking way I was sitting this out.”

The blood drains from my face. “Betsy?”

Tim nods, his face grave. “Aye. They snatched her while she was out at the market.”

“Bastard would be stupid to snatch your daughter,” Jacob growls. “We’ll get her back, Tim, I promise you. We’ll get her back.”

My hands tremble, and I clench them lest I betray myself.

“I’ve got men waiting,” Jacob says. “We’ll meet them on the way. We need to move fast. A ship came in today with more poor bastards for their markets. We’ll free as many as possible while we get Betsy out. They’ll be running the market in two days. We can’t afford to wait in case they move her on.”

“Agreed,” Tim says.

Jacob gives me an up and down look. We are on par, height-wise, although he has muscle over me and carries himself as a warrior. He is also an alpha, while I’m a beta, and the sense of my inadequacy is sharp and sudden. Yet they have taken Betsy. I have known the lass all my life. Her mother and mine used to be friends before they both passed, and I’m shocked that she was taken.

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