Caius
Dax doesn't make mistakes. It is the thing I like most about him. If he tells me the sun is going to fall out of the sky tomorrow, I start looking for a helmet.
"The inventory is short," Dax said. He sat across from my desk, his back straight as a spear. "Three crates of salted meat. Two of the younger guys were seen near the cellar after midnight."
"Which ones?" I asked. I didn’t look up from the map I was studying.
"Kael and his brother. They think they’re clever since their father helped build the west wall."
"They aren't," I said. "Take their rations for a week. Put them on double patrol at the North Gate. It’s raining. They can think about how hungry they are while they get wet."
Dax nodded. He didn’t smile. He never smiled when we were talking pack business. "I’ll handle
