by Curtis, Greg
“I don't need much coin. What I need is ore. Good iron, some silver, tin and nickel, corundum if you can find some. Anything I can make good steel from.”
Harl interrupted Marni as she started to tell him something about her companion being a quartermaster. She was less than pleased by his interruption and stared daggers at him. But he didn't care. He had work to do! For the first time in five long years he had work to do. He had a client. He had orders to fill. The sheer rush of pleasure he felt at understanding that was overwhelming.
“Also”, Harl continued, “I'll need five men for a day, ranging in size from small to large, short to tall, so that I can craft some moulds from them. And of course some women as well.” Harl carried on giving them a list of his needs, his tongue barely able to keep up with his thoughts. He was simply so excited.
“Come!” He gestured at them to follow him. “I have some pieces in the house that I've crafted these last two years. Only a few unfortunately – my ores here are limited and I've had to work hard to survive instead of simply being able to concentrate on my craft, and only modest works – but they should show you what I can provide you with.”
And regardless of his limitations and small stock he thought they would be pleased. He had several swords with solid lightning spells on them, some with just the more basic spells of sharpness and durability. There were some breast plates as well – he hadn't gone to the trouble of making whole sets of armour since there was no one to buy them – but it had been good practice simply to make them and enchant them. He told them that as he led them inside to the back room. It didn't even bother him that he was leading them into his house that was barely one step removed from a hovel. All he cared about was that he was an arcane smith once more.
The pair followed him through his home and into the back room where he kept his stock. Of course a lot of it was incomplete. He'd crafted much of it simply because he'd wanted to use his skills, and the effort of finishing it off so that it was ready for sale had seemed a waste. So the breastplates were mostly bare, the cuirasses were laced together but there was no final polish on them and most of the chains weren't woven into material or combined with leather. The swords were finished but had no scabbards. Similarly he had only one size of armour since his only mould had been crafted from his own body. He had to explain that to them as they looked through what he had, but also that most of what was in front of them could be finished off quickly.
The quartermaster at least didn't seem to mind as he played with a couple of the swords, testing them for balance and the edge. He was even happier when Harl suggested he try a couple of them out on some small saplings around the property. The man went away only to come back a few minutes later with the largest smile on his face. Harl gathered he approved of the blades. Especially when he picked up all the long swords and short swords in the room and started carrying them out to his horse. Then he came back for the knives and shields. And when Harl showed him the enchanted stones he'd been developing with the blinding light enchantment the quartermaster almost looked as though he was going to cry. He grabbed all of those as well and practically ran from the room. At long last Harl had a customer once more.
Meanwhile Marni was taking more time appraising his work.
“And what about these?” Marni pointed to the back wall where his brigandine hung along with his own weapons. She was curious he guessed since he had already told them that they were not for sale.
“They are my personal weapons and armour. Shaped for me, by me.”
“You have your own weapons?” She seemed surprised for some reason. She shouldn't be when she'd seen him wearing the armour and carrying the sword. “I thought you were a wizard.”
“I'm an arcane smith Lady.” When had he decided to start calling her lady he wondered? When had he become so respectful? Maybe around the same time she had offered him a chance to regain a little piece of his old life. “I am well versed in all the weapons I craft.”
Of course few realised that. Few understood the hours that went into training for an arcane smith. But they should really. After all, how could an arcane smith properly understand the importance of the balance of a sword if he couldn't use one? Master Gallowgood had taught him that on the first day he had taken up training under him, and he had never forgotten it.
“Why so many knives?”
She went to reach for them in their belt and Harl stopped her hurriedly. “They should not be touched Lady. Not by anyone but me. They are throwing knives with the spell of fire blood upon them. The slightest scratch and you will burn from the inside out.”
“But you won't?” The quartermaster looked at him as if he'd said something crazy.
“Arcane smith – completely immune to fire.”
Marni paled when he said that, perhaps remembering him putting his hand in the blacksmith's pit. But she said nothing. Most wizards wouldn't dare craft the fire blood spell – it was simply too dangerous. But wizards of fire and arcane smiths could. It was simply one of the facts of life as a wizard. Most were immune to their own magic.
“This brigandine looks impressive.” Marni walked over to it and started testing its quality with her fingers. “Strong and yet flexible.”
“Very strong and very flexible, and enchanted against most weapons and spells. It is a quality piece and took many days to craft.”
“And you use a great sword? An odd choice surely.”
Her words told him that she was a trained soldier. Most soldiers would use a sword and shield arrangement. It wasn't just that that was what they were trained in, it was that in a close quarters battle against multiple opponents it was the best choice, and that was the sort of battle soldiers were more likely to face. But fighters and warriors who would more normally face a single opponent, perhaps in an arena, would be more likely to vary their choice of weapons.
But Harl was not a soldier. He had not trained as one. Instead he had trained as a swordsman. In a battle he did not have to worry about hitting whoever was beside him because there was no one beside him. He was careful to only face one opponent at a time, and he was selective about his choice of arena. He liked to have plenty of room to swing his blade. Of course, now that he might be in a war he might have to rethink that.
“Not so odd really. I am skilled with all the swords and shields of course, but for me the two handed sword is my preference. I'm faster with it than with twin swords, and I dislike using shields against the creatures that hunt me. They are powerful enough that they could still hurt me through one. Better to dodge and strike than try to weather the blow.”
“What sort of metal is this?” Marni pulled the sword a little way free from its scabbard and stared at it. “It's dull in here yet the metal shines with its own soft light. And it cuts as nothing I have ever seen.”
“It is an ice blade Lady. Steel enchanted with the sharpness and strength of diamond. That's why it glows so. Light and fast, the diamond steel is folded hundreds of times so that it is supple and full of spring while able to hold an edge so perfect that the sword sings as it slips through the air.”
“We could use some swords like this.”
“It is not for sale.” That he was clear on. It wasn't just the time and effort he'd put into crafting it. It was his sword. Crafted by him, for him and only him. He wasn't sure many people would understand that. Skilled swordsmen maybe, few others. But he did.
“Why not?” She turned to him.
“Because it's a master work and my personal sword. It is shaped to my hand, measured to my height, weighed to my strength. Were I to craft another such blade I would need to have the precise measurements of the customer and know his strength. Then I would have to set aside most of my other work for a full month to craft it. These blades are not easily made.”
“Then the other blades?” The quartermaster asked the obvious question, suddenly a little worried.
“Are well made and properly enchanted. I would not have put my mark on them were they not. But t
his blade would cut right through them if wielded by the right hand. My hand. It will slice through armour and bone as well.”
“Armour and bone?” Marni sounded disbelieving and he wondered if he would have to show her again what it could do to some timber. But then she suddenly cocked her head to one side and fixed him with the strangest stare.
“The daggers you will not allow us to touch have the fire blood enchantment upon them. Too dangerous to the wielder. You have a brigandine and leather gloves that match the description given to me. You can enchant rocks to give off a blinding light as I was also told happened when the High Priestess was rescued. And your blade will cut the limbs off minotaurs as well as logs I assume.”
“Easily. Many times.” Harl didn't like where her thoughts were leading. But he knew there was no way of stopping them.
“You Master Harl have been playing a demon's game with the truth. You did not send a soldier to rescue the High Priestess just as you claimed. You did it yourself. Didn't you?”
Harl nodded. He didn't want to. He truly wanted to shake his head and deny it. But it was the truth and she knew it. Short of killing them both he could not stop it getting out.
“A wizard warrior. Who would have thought?”
“An arcane smith Lady. It is normal for us to be able to handle our weapons.”
Though in his case he had improved his skills far beyond what was normal. Ever since the day when he had stood on that wall by Rickarial facing down an army of beasts. Since then his skill as a swordsman had become the difference between life and death. And he had lived. He might not always have wanted to live, but he had regardless.
“The High Priestess will be pleased to finally have an answer.”
“Will she? We did not exactly part on the best of terms.” But he suspected she would be glad of the knowledge. He just didn't know if she would be glad to have someone to thank for rescuing her, or happy to have someone to punish for threatening her.
“She said that too, but nevertheless a debt is owed and she wishes to pay it.”
“No debt is owed. And if she destroys the monsters that murdered my family I'll consider that a boon beyond reckoning.”
He would of course, and he would be far from alone in it. Though in his heart he would prefer to kill them himself.
“We should talk coin.” The quartermaster decided to return the conversation to what mattered – at least from his perspective – and Harl was glad of it.
“We already have. I need very little and if the High Priestess' army can use my weapons and armour I'll provide them for free. Their war is mine.”
“Free?” The quartermaster looked as though he was about to fall over in shock.
And maybe he had reason. Back in Lion's Crest Harl had charged anything from a dozen silvers to twenty pieces of gold for his swords, depending on what was required. It was why he'd been able to buy a smithy at such a young age. And if and when this war was won and he could return to having a business he would again. But not now. Not when every sword he made could be tearing through the heart of a leonid or slicing the head off a traitorous wizard.
“Bring me my ore, a little food now and then, and maybe some clothes. I need no more.” And he didn't. What he needed to do was work.
“That is very generous.” Marni sounded nearly as surprised as the quartermaster. Harl didn't know why. It wasn't generous at all. It wasn't even dutiful. And though it was about returning to his past, it wasn't even completely about that. It was about killing his enemies any way he could. But he kept that back from them. People shouldn't see the darkness in his soul. It was bad enough that they saw the darkness in his face some days and looked away.
“No it's not. It's my duty and the least I can do. Now come. Let us share some tea and you can tell me more of what the soldiers will need.” And as he led them back into the main room he was already considering what he could craft for them quickly and easily.
Finally, the day had come when he had found a reason to smile.
Chapter Seventeen
Midland Heights. It didn't really look like a city Erislee thought now that she'd finally ridden up through the cut to stare at it from where her forces were gathering. It looked like a cascade of stone walls layered one behind the other as they scaled the hill between two mountains. And from where she stood, on the far side of the valley, the best part of a league and a half away, they almost looked delicate. But up close she knew each one of those walls was a massive construction of stone that towered fifty feet high and spanned a third of a league across. They had been built by giants according to legend, though there were no giants in the world. There had once been titans according to the stories, but not giants.
Behind each wall was a terrace, most of them not very deep. Fifty paces, sometimes a hundred and fifty deep, each one leading to another massive stone wall and a huge gated archway with steps leading up through it to the next terrace. It wasn't a very practical layout for a city. Each terrace had only limited sunlight each day as the shadows from the walls tended to cover everything whenever the sun dipped even a little lower in the sky. And there were so many stairs! The city itself was made of more than fifty terraces, and to reach the top was a climb of several thousand steps. But she guessed the view from the palace out across the valley must be magnificent. She had never made it all the way up herself. The first dozen terraces were where most visitors stayed.
The thing that had always struck her about the city was that it seemed such a strange place to put one. Most cities were located in the midst of lush plains where crops were grown and livestock raised. That way there was always enough food for the people. But not here. The valley in front of them was purely for grazing, but it didn't feed many animals. It couldn't. The soil was poor. The grass was too sparse and tough for most animals. Those beasts that grazed it were mainly oxen and horses. Great hairy beasts all of them. They had to be because it was so cold. Most crops didn't grow there, the frosts tended to kill them off. Only the hardiest root vegetables survived.
Nor was the city on an intersection of roads or rivers as others were. Midland Heights was the very end of the road. A huge thirty league long road that climbed through the lowland valleys and then through the hills and foot hills until finally you reached the mountains. And the last dozen or so of those leagues were through a rift valley with no roads branching off it. So there were no traders passing through; instead all the traders that came, had come specifically to the city.
But the reason why the city had grown up there had nothing to do with either food or trade. It was purely because of one thing: Gold.
The city was literally built on top of gold mines. And more gold mines were dug into the mountains that surrounded it on three sides. They were also the reason that the walls had been built. Gold was always a temptation, and so as the city had grown and needed to extend, more walls had been built. It might have taken a thousand years for the city to reach its current size as it sprawled down the hill between two mountains – no one actually knew as the records had been lost to time. But what she did know was that for every one of those years more gold had been pulled out of those mountains than anywhere else in the entire world.
Erislee stared at the great walled city in the distance and knew a sense of wonder. But not for the usual reasons. She had seen the city before in her youth. And she knew the sight of those huge walls built into the hills very well. It wasn't that that gave her pause. And it wasn't the understanding that this city was one of the richest in the known world. It was the journey she and the others had followed to get here that amazed her. The sheer number of battles that had been fought. And the army that had been slowly massing around her as she marched north. And now that they were here, she knew that what would follow would be a key step in her journey to reclaim Artemis's temple from these thralls.
In terms of time she supposed it hadn't been that long. Two and a half months since she had started her journey. Maybe a little more. But time was relative. Th
at was also fifty battles fought and won at least; fifty towns taken back from these false priests. It was tens of thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of people freed from the yoke of the tyrants. It was the slaying of thousands of chimera and nearly as many soldiers, wizards and false priests. And it was the deaths of hundreds of their own as well. No war had ever been waged without suffering losses. But this was one war that was gathering pace every day.
That first battle there had been less than a dozen of them. Now she had five thousand soldiers standing with her and more arriving every day. She had several war masters to keep them all in line since she knew nothing of military matters. There were over a hundred unicorns while the griffins numbered at least five times as many. And of course there were priests and wizards with her as well. They kept arriving, often without anyone knowing they were coming.
Now they had things called supply lines and camp followers. They had lines of engagement and zones of control. Strategy, tactics and campaigns. Ballistics and blockades. And the newest term was siege warfare.