Path of The Calm (Saga of The Wolf Book 1) by Hiatt Kris

Author:Hiatt, Kris [Hiatt, Kris]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Kris A. Hiatt
Published: 2015-05-04T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

He hadn’t had much luck so far; the smiths either already had apprentices, or wouldn’t let him use their forge, claiming they were much too busy to spend time away from their forges. Either way, the answer was still no, he couldn’t use their forge. They either dismissed him as soon as he told them he was also a smith, or they waited for him to finish then shooed him away laughing. He still had one forge left to try, and that was the forge near the palace. He highly doubted his luck would change, but he had to at least try.

He wasn’t sure how he would find Moff, but he guessed he would worry about him after he convinced a smith to allow him to use their forge. He would have to come up with some scheme, but he didn’t know what yet. He even asked if he could use their forge at night while they were asleep, but they all declined. He guessed he understood; why trust a stranger with the piece of equipment that you made your livelihood with? One who could easily steal all of the tools and materials and leave them with nothing.

He hoped he would find a smith that would let him use the forge soon, he wouldn’t have enough money to pay for food and lodging for the next three months at the rate it was going already. He guessed he could last only a single month on what he had in his purse and still leave enough for some tools and supplies for smithing. He thought about not smithing, but he knew that the plan was for him to get as much information from the people of Haven as he could. They would be much more likely to tell him things if they knew he worked here and belonged here. An outsider without a job had no roots in the town, so why would they tell him anything? He knew smithing was his best shot at fitting in and becoming part of the community.

He was close to the baron’s palace and could hear the familiar sound of a hammer striking metal on an anvil. He followed the wisp of smoke filtering into the air and the sounds of metal on metal and soon found the smith.

The smith who operated this forge had to be close to fifty by Treace’s estimation. His once dark hair and beard was more grey than dark now and his face had many wrinkles from squinting into the fires of the forge. Treace wondered if that would be what he looked like if he continued to forge for another thirty or forty years. He noticed this smith didn’t have a single apprentice as the others did; he had three. He guessed this smith must be very good to command enough work to pay for the forge and three apprentices.

Treace approached the man and couldn’t help but notice the muscles on the smith’s forearms bulging with every hammer strike.

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