by Guy Antibes
“They do not trust us,” Ulu sang as they laid out their blankets on a bed of straw in the barn.
“What can we expect? We’re strangers with swords in our saddles. Anyway, it will be good to get in front of the forge again, it’s been some time.”
In the morning, Bellia found herself eager to begin working metal. She checked the fire and began pumping on the bellows. She scrounged a broken shovel head and put it into the forge with the farmer’s tongs. Bellia let it heat up while Ulu and she disassembled the front axle. She expected that Ulu wouldn’t understand how the axle worked, but the little man surprised her as they laid the parts on the ground.
“See if any of the others are cracked.” Bellia said as Hal came out of his house.
“I see you’re ready to go.”
Bellia smiled. “I am. The coals are now hot enough and I found an old shovel head which should be enough to make the part.”
Ulu brought over a cracked bracket.
“And it looks like we’ll have to replace this as well. If you’ve got a child big enough to work the bellows, we should have this done by midday.”
Hal disappeared into his house and brought out the girl. “My oldest. We call her Allie.” The girl wore overalls and an oversized blouse.
“Hi, Allie. Nice pigtails.” Bellia touched one of them and the girl turned red. “Could you fill this bucket up with water? Then we’ll let you pump air into the fire with that bellows.”
“I like the bellows.” She smiled and darted back in the house.
“We’ve got a water pump in there from our well.”
“I’ve never heard of a water pump in a house before. Maybe they don’t have them in Testia.”
“I thought you said you were from Palubat.”
“That’s where I started my journey in Eustia. I grew up in the northern part of Testia and learned blacksmithing in a little town called Greenwell. We had a pump in the yard where we drew our water.”
“Testia must be a bit behind Banta. From here to Grianna, plenty of houses have indoor pumps. Although that’s probably changing in Grianna.”
“How’s that?”
“Their King has let the whole country go to pot. Raised taxes, driving out all of the merchants to Banta and brought back feudalism. The people have just about been made into slaves. There’s hardly enough money to fix anything.” Hal shivered. “It could happen here, except the Council in Togolath are so interested in themselves, they let us do as we please. We just have to pay for the Guard.”
“It used to be that way where I live. I joined the army when our King decided he wanted to rule all of Testia. We were defeated a long way from home. I eventually made my way back. Things change. A friend of mine convinced me to go to Palubat, but she died. I’ve got a contact in Togolath. Ulu and I became friends. He’s from the jungle around there.”
“You’ve fought a great deal?”
“I’ve had my share of swordplay. As a soldier, you have to learn to kill. We had some challenges coming across the plains.”
“Your swords.”
“I made mine.” Bellia grinned. “That’s not entirely true. I made the short one and my master at the smithy and I made the longer sword.”
“I’d sure like a new sword. Mine is old and nicked up. I doubt it’s been out of its scabbard twice since I’ve been married. It was my father’s.”
“I can make you new one.”
Hal looked at Bellia’s swords lying on the ground with his pack. “If you could just remake it a bit. It doesn’t have to be good.”
“Any sword I make needs to be good. It will take two days. I will tell you how to finish it up after we leave. Okay?”
“Good. Can your friend come with me, now?”
“Sure. He can speak, you know. Let him show you his singing speech.” Bellia turned to help Allie with the first little bucket of water.
The work went quickly. Bellia remade the axle bracket and the pivot bracket. She re-inspected the parts and everything else looked fine. Bellia enjoyed chatting with the girl. She was only a few years younger than Bellia when her family had been assassinated. The girl’s wonder and freshness made Bellia wonder how she would be if she had a chance to grow up with parents and younger brothers and sisters. The regret surprised her.
When Hal and Ulu returned from the fields, they helped Bellia finish up installing the new parts and turned the wagon back over.
“Grease it again when you bring it back from town. It should work just fine.”
“Come on into the house. We can eat our midday meal in there. I want my children to hear Ulu’s sing-speech.”
Bellia returned to the forge after the meal with Hal’s old sword. Her steps were light, ecstatic that they had gained the family’s trust. She felt more like a real person, rather than a soldier or treasure hunter. She looked over at Hal’s tools and repaired a few, including putting a new point on Hal’s plow. It was time to get to the sword.
She looked over the old blade. It had its share of nicks and the blade wasn’t entirely straight. Hal gave Bellia a rusted harness set.
“The fittings are steel and came with the place. I bought new harnesses with me, so feel free if you need more metal.”
Rusted was an apt term. She hefted the metal. It certainly wasn’t iron. The leather creaked and cracked as she handled it. Bellia rummaged around and found an old crucible. She cut off the leather and put the pieces in the crucible.
Then she stripped the old hilt off the sword. She’d reuse the guard and the pommel of the hilt. The metal from the sword and the extra bits from the harness were soon heating up in the forge.
Bellia poured the metal into a billet shape she had cut out of the dirt. After it had solidified, she put it back into the fire.
“Allie, are you getting tired?”
She made an awful face and sighed.
“Why don’t you rest a bit? I’ll call you when I need you or you can check back with me in a while.” Bellia smiled at the look of relief on her face as she flew back into the house, pigtails flying.
Bellia pulled out the billet again and began beating it on the anvil. The billet began to form into the right shape. Her mutilated hand began to ache, but she ignored it. She began to dust the surfaces and began the folding process until it was half the size of a sword. Then she worked the bellows and minded the fire. She pulled out the sword.
The rest of the afternoon and into the evening, it was pound the sword out, powder it, fold, and pound. The process went on and on until a true blade was formed. The next morning she returned to her work.
This sword probably wouldn’t carry the magic of her short sword. Bellia looked at her hand. No inadvertent gestures, just hard Pock-like work, she thought. The shape of the final blade began to take form. She put a double runnel in it for strength and made it a little longer than the original, but thinner to maintain the balance. She pounded the shank to fit the original handle. Despite it all, she could sense tinges of magic in the blade. The farmer would likely have the finest weapon in the surrounding area.
Bellia banked the forge and began to work at Hal’s sharpening wheel the finish the shape on the blade and give it an edge. Just before she assembled the grip. She was going to put eight dots in two rows of four but then stopped. She laid down four on one side and two on the other, Bellia’s new mark.
She used the rest of the time to make something out of the remaining metal for the children.
Hal came in with Ulu. His mouth dropped open. “This is a masterpiece.”
Bellia demurred. “I am no master, but a good apprentice. This will serve you and your sons well. I’m afraid I made it a bit longer and thinner than the original shape, but I think it will suit you better.”
“What are these waves in the blade?”
“Pock’s technique. He was my master. It came from Eustia, but I don’t know where. It makes the steel more supple and takes a sharper edge. I’m afraid you will have to polish it up to make it look pretty.
The shank is the same shape, so you just need to re-wrap the hilt. You can see that the guard and pommel end from your father’s old sword fit just fine.”
“This is much more than I asked. I thought you would fill in the nicks.” Hal couldn’t take his eyes off the steel.
“Oh, you’ve got some work to do still. Some nights with a sharpening stone and some fine sand will polish it to a sheen. It will take a surprisingly good edge, so be careful around your children,”
“Come in for dinner. Then tomorrow we’ll be off at first light. I looked at your horse and the few days rest have helped. I’ll make sure you’ll find a good trade. Plains horses are in demand, even for breeding.”
Dinner was unremarkable. The children ate their dinner early and went to bed. Hal’s wife sat at his side in the parlor after the meal.
“You’ve been a farmer all your life?” Bellia said.
“For generations.” Hal said.
“And you?”
Hal’s wife colored. “I came from a family of healers.”
“Wizards.” Hal said making fun of his wife.
“How interesting. A wizard-healer saved me from a sword wound. A sword was thrust right through my thigh in service to my king. I didn’t think much of it, but unbeknownst to me, I would have bled to death before it healed had I not been taken to a healer.”
“Your King didn’t like healers?”
“Not wizards. A wizard ended up killing King Rollack. I have a question. Please tell me if I’m impertinent. Does your family have anything to do with the Blind God?”
Her eyebrows rose. “What do you know of the Blind God?”
“My healer said he wrote things down and sent them off to the Blind God’s Temple in Tuathua on Testia.” She actually thought of Lily in Palubat.
“One of my brothers left Eustia to serve the Blind God. He had an argument with my father over not worshipping Pollok and left.”
“And you? Are you for the Blind God or against him? There seems to be a debate among healers,” Bellia said wondering if this woman could give her additional information she might need on the way to Togolath.
“Among wizards. Many ignore him. Others become his eyes, sending reports to Testia. My father didn’t like him, he’d rather follow Pollok. There are tales of the old, old days when the gods fought the wizards.”
“I’ve heard the tales. There were twelve gods who ruled the world. One enlisted wizards to take over the Gleanere. The others fought with their guardians. Neither won. The gods lost much of their power. Only three or four are worshipped these days. The wizards were bound to make magic with codework.”
The farmer’s wife looked at Bellia and shrugged her shoulders. “That could have been what happened. No one knows. It’s been thousands of years.”
Ulu smiled. “Bellia speaks the truth. I have been to Helevat and have seen the vine covered statues. Once thrones sat where the gods’ images now stand looking out over the jungle.”
“Helevat. Isn’t that where a treasure lies?” Hal said, laughing.
“Alas, you have found me out,” Bellia said. “Ulu was to lead us to Helevat, but dissension and greed split our party apart. And so, I go to seek another wizard-healer who I ran into on my travels. He told me to find him in Togolath. Perhaps you’ve heard of him. Rullon?” Bellia’s stomach fluttered. She had no desire to speak of this to the farmer and his wife, but the words came to her lips.
“I just received a letter from my brother. He escorted a man named Rullon to the Temple from Pottoa.”
“His name is Wully?”
“How did you know? That’s him. Wonder of wonders. How is my brother?”
“When I left him he was doing very well. I was in the group that brought Rullon to the Temple Grounds. I stayed there after my King died in battle.”
“King Rollack of North Wansua. That’s what Wully wrote and what you said.”
“He died on the battlefield slain by a Kokotan wizard.” She wouldn’t tell him that her short sword was the weapon.
The wife looked at Bellia with amazement in her face. “You must be the woman my brother said was a great wizard.”
“I’m not a great wizard.” Bellia held up her hand. “And if I was, how could I be now?”
“When did you lose your fingers?”
“I said there was dissention in my party. Here is evidence.” She raised her hand.
“How did Wully look? I haven’t seen him since before I married Hal.”
“Fit and still doing his healing. He’s fixed a few minor things on me. I sought refuge in the Temple, but I had to get out from time to time and accompanied your brother and his partners, Zeerok and Punty, on some of their patrols.”
“Youarethe one.” She smiled and laughed. It was easy to see she missed her brother and she was delighted to meet someone who knew him. “I’m sorry I treated you and Ulu so poorly when you first came.”
“No offense given. You have a family to protect. You can’t trust everybody. I’ve learned that well enough in my travels.”
“Thank you.” She smiled. “I need to check on my children, if you will excuse me. Good night.”
Bellia watched as she walked up stairs to the second floor.
“Her family was torn up pretty bad with this Blind God business,” Hal said quietly.
“What gods are followed in Banta?”
“Well no one worships the Blind God. He is known, but is perceived as a nosy god without power. Some on this side of the mountains worship Winna, as the plains people do. Others worship Pollok. No others that I know.”
“And you?”
“We were married by a Pollok priest, but for many of us, we use the priests of Pollok and priestesses of Winna for marriages and funerals.”
Bellia’s family didn’t worship any gods that she could remember.
“So you’re a healer, too?” Hal said.
“My family were wizards. Not healers. My father thought that being a hermit and going through his scrolls and books was worthy of his life’s work.”
“You sound a bit bitter about it.”
“Do I? After all this time, I don’t know. They were killed when I was a fourteen-year-old girl. I apprenticed myself to a blacksmith and life has brought me into your home.” Bellia never thought of herself as bitter. Did he pick up on something that she missed within herself?
“My wife misses her favorite brother. She’s probably upstairs re-reading his letters.” Hal smiled. “Tomorrow, we leave at first light.” The farmer rose. The night inside the house ended.
~
Hossel’s Corners was larger than the other towns Bellia and Ulu passed. It had two main streets along the two roads that intersected the place. A large market square stood as an empty dirt lot in the center and the roads circled around the outside.
Hal led them to the right and towards the end of a row of two story buildings. The wagon turned into a big barn with a corral that extended on along the road.
“Hal. What brings you out here, today?” A gray bearded man said, walking up to the farmer.
“Couple of travelers. They made it all the way across the plains, but their packhorse went lame close to my farm. The woman actually used to be a blacksmith and fixed my wagon.”
The stable master walked back to the plains horse. “Handsome.” He bent over and felt the forelock. “I see what you mean. Looks like he’s over his lameness, for a bit.” The man stood up and looked at Bellia. “What’cha have in mind?”
“I thought we might trade him out for another packhorse. The horse made it all the way from the other side of Sanreala. I think he’d be ideal if you want to crossbreed him.”
“Hal, you been talking to this gal?” he good naturedly chided Hal. “I’ll gladly trade you straight across for any of my nags. I’ve been trying to get hold of a good strong plains horse for breeding for years.”
“I’ll help you choose one, if you need some help,” Hal said.
They walked through various corral
s. Bellia saw a large black stallion pawing the ground. “What about him?”
“For a pack horse? Too spirited and only three years old. He comes from a long line of horses bred for war,” the old man said. “He needs to be ridden not led. Over here—”
“No. I’d like him. I can use my own horse to carry our goods,” Bellia said.
Bellia walked over and the horse moved towards her. She pulled back the horse’s muzzle to look at its teeth. “What do you think, Hal?”
“Such a horse is magnificent, but war isn’t what it used to be. A crossbow bolt can bring him down or his rider with ease. He was bred for a different time.”
“I’ve seen cavalry before. But I was in the infantry. No, I just like his strength and carriage.”
The stable master scratched his head. “I’ll admit, forty, fifty years ago, I’d never have a creature like this in my yard. He’s only good for riding, so if you want him, he’s yours. And, actually, I still think I got the better end of the deal.” He laughed to himself. The man threw a bit and harness to Bellia.
Back at the barn, Bellia tried to fit her plains saddle on the big horse. It wouldn’t fit. “Another trade?”
The stable master shook his head. “No. Your saddle is pretty worn. But I have one that you might like. It will cost you a silver guinea.”
“If I must,” Bellia said. “Ulu, do you think we can hang our bags from the saddle?”
“I think it can be done. If anything happens to that big horse, you can still ride the other.”
Bellia pulled her last Griannan silver coin from her purse. “Here.”
“Good decision, lady. I’ll go get the tack.”
The saddle was nearly new. Battle scenes textured the leather with black iron trim. “This is too heavy for most women, but I suppose you can throw it over the beast.”
The stable master stood back as Bellia put the saddle on and transferred her bags to the horse. She replaced the bit the stable master gave her with a black one that matched the saddle as Ulu finished loading up Bellia’s old horse.
Everyone stopped as Bellia mounted the stallion. The horse pawed the ground, but the pair looked like they were anxious to get on the road together.