Taking it, Fei took a better look around, breathing deeply to appreciate the scent of leather and wood shavings. It mingled nicely in the air. “Do not mind me. I am not known for my organizational skills.”
“That right? Neither am I, most days. Grae’s our organized one. Now, fortunately for us, we don’t have to quite start from scratch.” Beirly went to the furnace in the corner and stoked it up, getting a hot fire going. It was only then that Fei noticed that the far side of the room, dedicated to smithing, had a solid sand floor. It had been several years since he had forged anything himself, but he suddenly remembered being told that if molten metal ever hit anything with moisture in it, it would result in an explosion. Carrying molten metal over sand was a safety precaution every smith took.
Anticipating what Beirly would need next, Fei fetched the mangled hand off the worktable and carried it over. Beirly gave him a nod of thanks and dropped it into the crucible. “We’ll let that go for a while. Now, I have sand molds for the hand over here.”
“Sand?” Fei repeated. This was the first he’d heard of such.
“Have to use sand molds for iron,” Beirly explained. “Nothing else works.”
Fei made a mental note of that even as he followed Beirly back to the table and examined the molds more closely. “It looks like there are…ten pieces?”
“Right you are. The cup that holds the main bar, that piece there, is actually made of leather. I discovered early on that it had to be flexible.” Beirly rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Believe it or not, Wolf’s muscles are strong enough to bend iron. Just flexing. I watched him do it, because I didn’t believe him when he told me that, and even after watching it I still only half believe it. So, leather. Now, this main bar here? That stabilizes the next section, which is the palm of the hand. You can see the thumb is three main parts, and the fingers are divided into three main joints.”
Fei counted, then counted again, and frowned. “I see two fingers?”
“Two,” Beirly confirmed. “First real model I had, it had all four fingers grouped together. And that worked well for the shield. But I discovered that he couldn’t hold much else that way. Splitting the fingers into two groups like this gives him the option of picking up and holding smaller things, like mugs.”
The three joints now made more sense. “So each joint gives him more options of how small an object he can grasp.”
“ ’xactly so. The thumb can extend and lock over both fingers. It’s quite strong. I had him test it for me and the latest version I made could lock onto two hundred pounds.”
Fei’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. “Two hundred pounds?”
Beirly’s chest puffed out a little in pride. “A little over, actually.”
“But even though it’s that strong, he can still break the hands?”
The craftsman abruptly deflated. “Curse the man, he does it on average every three months.”
This didn’t actually surprise Fei. Wolf could take on a bear and Fei would feel sorry for it. The bear would not have a chance. “If you do this so regularly, do you just repeat what you did the previous time?”
“No, I make improvements as I think of them. This time, I’m going to take the rod all the way through the palm, I think. Usually I stop about here,” Beirly gestured to a spot an inch in, “but really, it will give it more stability if I go all the way through.”
Fei imagined this in his mind’s eye, trying to think of how the hand would function in real life. “Wouldn’t that mean having to bend the elbow more? As the palm cannot tilt in.”
“Have to do that anyway,” Beirly observed. “The hand can’t tilt in on its own and it would be unstable if it did.”
That was a very good point. “Any other changes?”
“Not a one. Don’t have the time for it, anyway, as we’ve only got a day. So while we’re waiting for that iron to melt, let’s make up a new sand cast for the main rod. It’s a good opportunity to show you how to make a mold anyway. Then we’ll get to pouring.”
As they worked, Fei learned more about the tools he’d need, some of how to make his own tools, which type of sand molds worked best, and so forth. Some of the tools Fei recognized, such as the steel stir rod and tongs. Some of it was a little foreign. There was of course heating and cooling periods, where the different parts would need to sit in a hot kiln for several hours. Beirly told him that it would be necessary to come down and check the temperature on the kiln at midnight, to make sure that it didn’t dip below eight hundred degrees, and rebuild it to twelve hundred.
The workroom was in the back of the guild hall, cut off from any real light, so Fei lost track of time completely until there was a knock at the door. Siobhan popped her head in and informed them, “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. We about done in here?”
“Just need to pour the iron into the molds and set them in the kiln,” Beirly informed her over his shoulder. “Give us twenty minutes.”
“Will do.” She popped back out as suddenly as she came in.
“Fei, how steady are your hands?”
“As sure as a mountain.”
“Then I’ll let you pour the main rod, here. You know to only cross sand?”
“I do.”
“Good, good. Then put the mold there, that’s a good lad, it’s the safest place near the kiln to pour. Put this apron on, and these gloves, as we don’t want any burns. Now, slowly, and mind that it doesn’t splash you.”
Fei followed every instruction to the letter, moving slow and steady, as he had no desire to burn himself. They closed up the mold and placed it carefully into the kiln before proceeding to the next one. It really only took twenty minutes for them to pour everything and shut the kiln door.
Satisfied, Beirly nodded to himself. “Good work. Went faster with both of us doing it. Fei, you’ve got a talent for this.”
Inclining his torso in a slight bow, Fei fought back a blush. “I am honored by your praise.”
Beirly grinned and led the way out of the room. “You didn’t get a chance to take any notes or make any drawings what with all my yammering. If you want to take a stab at that over dinner, I’ll watch over you and make sure you’ve noted it all down right.”
A good thing, as Fei was absolutely positive he’d forgotten at least half of what the man said. “I will do so.”
“Fei!” came a call from the kitchen. Siobhan sounded somewhat vexed. “This doesn’t taste right!”
Fei had explained how to cook the dish to Siobhan as they had shopped for all of the ingredients, but experience was the best teacher. With a quick nod to Beirly to excuse himself, he slipped out of the workroom and into the kitchen.
Siobhan had a wooden spoon pointed toward the skillet in an outraged posture. “It tastes bland. I did exactly as you said.”
Fei took the spoon from her, dipped it into the sauce, then dropped a little onto the back of his hand before licking it. Hmm. Yes, it was bland. “How much seasoning did you put in?”
“A cup, like you said.”
“Before or after you let the vegetables simmer?”
“Before…?” she trailed off, uncertainly.
“It works best if you do it as they simmer. The vegetables have a chance to soak up the sauces that way.”
“Oh rats. Does that mean this is a loss, then?”
“No, not at all.” Fei tested the temperature of the skillet itself, found it to be quite hot, and moved it off the eye. Then he dumped in the rest of the mixed up seasoning and stirred it in. “Does this have a lid? Excellent. Set it on top. We’ll let it sit for a few minutes and just steam. It will be more favorable that way.” Eyeing the empty bottle, he added, “We should mix up more just in case. That way, we can season again to our own preferences.”
Even with all of that, it didn’t taste quite right but it was more than edible, so Fei counted it as a win. They had a lively time over dinner, which was a foreign thing to him in this land. Here, in their own Hall, the guild was more lax a
nd dropped all pretense of a ‘professional demeanor.’ They joked, poked at each other, laughed, just as much as any family would have. Just as much as his own family did. Fei realized during the course of the dinner that Siobhan’s words to him earlier were not an exaggeration. The guild truly did think of each other as family and acted as such. It was far more obvious here than it had been on the open road.
It gave him a great deal of food for thought. How many guilds were actually like this, only he hadn’t realized it, because he had never seen them when they let their guards down? He went to the bed that night with the thought hovering at the edge of his mind, wandering about without an answer.
ӜӜӜ
Once again it was only an hour’s trip by path from Goldschmidt to Converse, and then came the hard part of the journey: The Grey Bridges. Crossing the bridges was more a matter of timing and luck than anything. Fei had now crossed them over a dozen times, due to one job or another, and he dreaded this leg more than any other part. Even using an unstable path going to Stott was nothing in comparison. A man on horseback could make the distance easily without facing danger. But a whole caravan didn’t have that kind of speed. Jacobs realized this, as he had rented extra harnesses and reinmals from a trader in Converse to help speed things along. Even with this precaution and extra power, they spent the entire day with anxious looks at the sky, the sea that steadily creeped ever closer to the top of the bridges, and the distance to Island Pass.
Fei had the front of the caravan, Wolfinsky the back, both men walking alongside the wagons. When he heard the quick pace of boots on stone, he automatically turned, as no one would be running unless it was important or danger approaching. Grae came up from behind, then passed him, heading for Jacobs who was sitting with the lead driver.
“Master Jacobs. You’ve noticed that storm front coming in from the north?”
“I have, sir.” Jacobs peered at it with a dark frown. “Don’t like the look of either.”
“I’ve been monitoring it and timing how fast it’s moving. I think it will hit just as we’re entering Island Pass or right after. But my true concern is, how long will it linger?”
“Sea storms can blow in hard and fast or stay for a visit. They’re mercurial at best.” Jacob scratched a half-grown beard—the man had not bothered to shave that morning—and let out a disgusted growl. “What’s your thought?”
“It’ll strand us tomorrow,” Grae said with conviction. “It’s not moving fast enough to be the type that blows in and out quickly. If it was, we’d already be drenched.”
“Afraid you’d say that. So whatever inn we choose, has to take us in for two nights at least.”
“Yes, precisely. If you wish, my guildmaster says that she’ll send someone ahead and get an inn for us. We’ve quite a bit of traffic on the bridge with us, and if we all hit the inns at the same time, it’ll be a nightmare to find a place that can accommodate all of us.”
“A good thought, that. Who does she want to send?”
“It’ll take someone with a guild crest to get in alone. But she wants to send in two, for safety’s sake.”
“That means it’s either Man Fei Lei or Wolfinsky going with her. If you don’t mind, I’d prefer Wolfinsky to stay.” Twisting in his seat, he faced Fei directly to explain, “Man’s got the strength to hold up a wagon if something breaks, you see.”
Not to mention that Wolfinsky intimidated people just standing there and breathing. Fei knew the true reason and was not offended by it. He did not look formidable, likely never would, and he used that to his advantage. Fei did not envy Wolfinsky’s strength. It came at a high cost most of the time, as it brought the man grief far too often. “I do not mind running ahead.”
“Good, good.”
Taking that as a dismissal, Fei turned and jogged back toward the end, where Siobhan was riding. He slowed as she came abreast of him and informed her, “We’ve been asked to go ahead and secure an inn. I will accompany you.”
“Oh, is that what Jacobs prefers? Fine by me.” Standing in her stirrups, she yelled, “WOLF!”
The giant enforcer turned and jogged back at her hail, not that he had much distance to cover. “Did Jacobs agree to the plan?”
“He did. He wants Fei to go with me. You’ve got the caravan, so make sure that they keep up this pace.”
Wolf’s face was an interesting study of conflicting emotions. He hadn’t expected this partnership, didn’t quite know how to feel about it, and wasn’t sure how to react either without getting his guildmaster’s back up.
Before he lost some internal struggle and said something that would surely get his head chewed off, Fei intervened. “This is not my first trip to Island Pass, Wolfinsky-jia, do not worry. Between the two of us, we should know of several good inns and will be able to sort the problem quickly.”
Those ice blue eyes locked on his. Silently, Fei tried to convey, I have her back. Don’t worry.
The message must have gone through clearly as Wolfinsky settled and nodded to him. “Do that, then. I have things here.”
Siobhan blinked, expecting an argument, not knowing how to take this lack of one. She glanced between the two men, briefly flummoxed, then shrugged and apparently decided to take the gift horse without looking it in the mouth. “Fei, want to ride with me?”
“That would be the fastest way.” He took the hand she extended, and the stirrup she offered, and swung nimbly up and behind her. Relinquishing the stirrup again, he put his arms around her and caught the horn with both hands, the safest way to hang on without clinging to her. Fortunately her saddle was a wide one and accommodated them both.
With a click of the heels, she set the horse into a faster trot, the pace quick enough to take them past the caravan in minutes. Fei judged that from here, they had an hour’s ride before they reached Island Pass’s gates. The two of them did not try to talk over the loud clatter of iron hooves on a stone bridge. He expected the silence to be awkward but it strangely wasn’t. It felt…comfortable. Like an old friendship was between them, one such that they could spend time with each other without feeling the need to entertain the other person.
Fei was still trying to make sense of the feeling as they arrived at the gates. He prepared to dismount when Siobhan lightly put a hand on his arm. “No, stay up. You’re fine.”
How could he possibly be fine? As a visitor to this island, he had to submit his papers of traveling, his work contract, and sign in their logs to get through.
Siobhan reached into an internal vest pocket and brought out a leather case, which she flipped open for the guards on duty. “Siobhan Maley, Guildmaster from Deepwoods. I have a caravan coming an hour behind me. Jacobs is the boss.”
One guard turned and noted this down in the log as the other took a look at the crest. “Thank you, Guildmaster. You can go through.”
She could what? Fei stared at the man, baffled and at a loss for words. That was it? Just a flash of a guild crest, a name, and she could enter? Not just that, but anyone with her could go in as well? They hadn’t even looked twice at Fei!
“Ah, Maley-zhi?”
“Yes?”
“Is this reaction normal? What I mean to say is, whenever you enter a city, is that all you need to do?”
Siobhan turned, glancing over her shoulder at him, and from her reaction she didn’t understand his confusion. “Yes, of course it is. That’s one of the perks of being a guildmember. We’re registered in every city, and since they know who we are, we don’t have to do anything more than identify ourselves. Especially here at Island Pass, they see us so often, almost all the guards are on a first name basis with us.”
Fei started to truly reconsider his stance on joining a guild in that moment. If it meant avoiding all of the hassle of the paperwork—paperwork that was different in every city, and wasn’t always accepted in the next city—then being a guild member might be worth it after all.
Chapter Seven
Deepwoods had a preferred inn named Sunri
se Tavern, run by a gruff man named Master Gramms. He greeted Siobhan with nothing more than a grunt and questioned, “How many this time?”
“We’ll fill your place,” she informed him. “How many empty rooms do you have?”
“Only two occupied,” he responded with what might have been the beginnings of a smile on his face. Every innkeeper liked the idea of being at full occupancy. “Caravan?”
“Yes, sir,” she sing-songed. “Cut me a deal.”
“I’ll give you your usual,” he drawled, which made Siobhan laugh for some reason. “Baths and dinner like always.”
“I can’t give you the full amount, the boss has it, so how much do you want as a deposit?”
Gramms didn’t expect this. His head tilted a fraction. “You came ahead?”
“Bad storm coming,” she explained. “We wanted to make sure we had a place to go before everyone beat us to it.”
“Ah. Give me ten kors, then. Keys will be waiting at the bar when people come in.”
Fei listened to this easy back and forth and just had to wonder, how many times had she been here? Had there been any real reason for him to come along with her at all? It seemed like every inhabitant in this city was her friend.
After handing the money over, Siobhan led him back out of the inn, made sure her horse was taken back to the stables, then went directly for the gate again. Fei silently tagged along at her side, automatically on the lookout for dangers, but honestly not expecting any trouble. Not here.
“Thank you.”
Fei blinked, glancing at her. “What have I done to earn thanks?”
“For heading off Wolf earlier.” Her eyes lifted in a subtle smile. “You didn’t get to see him when he first came into the guild, so you don’t realize how far he’s come. He’s overprotective still, but then? It was worse. Much worse. I couldn’t take five steps outside the Hall without him. He’s mellowed considerably but there are still times, like earlier, when those old instincts rise to the surface.”
Origins: A Deepwoods Book - a Collection of Deepwoods Short Stories (Deepwoods Series 0) Page 14