“I could possibly supply you with something suitable,” she said slowly. “But that’s at least a couple of swords’ worth of metal. If the elves are marching for war, we’ll need every ounce of steel we have.”
“You’ll get most of them back,” Randall promised. “I need to do some rune work, and I’m afraid I’m not very good at it. You can melt the failures down and recover the steel.”
Kirsti’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I’m quite good at runes, actually,” she said. “We could work on it together,” she said, lowering her eyelids seductively.
Randall almost snorted. The flirtation might have worked if she hadn’t tried to brush him off only a couple of hours before. Still, it wouldn’t be wise to get on her bad side before she delivered the steel blanks.
“Maybe. Could be fun,” he said. “I’ll be back after dinner and we can work on them in my room together,” he finished with a wink, before turning and hurrying to find Nia.
It didn’t take him long to find her. She was practicing with Hunter and Berry a couple of hundred yards from the courtyard gates, close enough to make a run for the safety of the walls if an enemy were seen approaching. The elf and the big panther were performing some kind of teamed-combat drill, and the two danced together like well-oiled clockwork. Berry did his best to join in the game, but mostly seemed to just get in the way.
“Ho! Nia,” he called out, waving his arms as she turned at the sound of his voice.
She called a command to the big cat, and it trotted to her side and sat, eying Randall expectantly. He approached cautiously; she seemed at ease around the animal, but she had trained with the beast its entire life. He didn’t want to risk startling it with any sudden movement.
“Randall,” she said curtly as he drew near.
“Look, Nia,” he started, rushing to get the words out before he lost his nerve. “I was a jack-ass last night. I’ve been practically ignoring you and Berry both since we got here, and I just wanted to say that I was sorry, to the both of you.”
“I see,” she said noncommittally, though her demeanor seemed to soften.
“I’m leaving tonight,” he said. “And I want my friends by my side: you, Berry, and Eamon too.”
“But how?” she asked, curiosity momentary displacing her resentment. “He is still critically wounded, and you are not in much better shape yourself.”
“Look,” he said, pulling up his shirt. “It’s practically healed, and my leg is almost as good as new.”
“You fixed the talisman? But it seemed broken beyond all repair,” she said, surprised.
“Even better,” he said with a grin. “I figured out how it works. If I can duplicate the effort on a sturdier material, I can make talismans for us all. So, will you come with me?”
“Randall Miller, my fate is entwined with yours. Where you go, I will follow, for better or for worse,” she said.
Randall snorted. “For better or for worse...you make it sound like we’re married or something.”
“As a rule, my people don’t practice marriage,” she explained. “But occasionally, two elves will form life-long pair bonds. Sometimes, it is done to cement two powerful families together, and sometimes even out of love.”
“When two elves are so bonded, it is by these words: Your fates are entwined. Where he goes, you will follow. As you are joined in life, so shall you be joined in death,” she continued, intoning the phrase in elvish. Randall gasped as he recognized where he had heard that phrase before.
“Rhys has bonded me to you,” she said with solemnity. “I will be your companion until the day you die. In the traditions of my people, we are as good as married.”
“Oh,” Randall said, shocked into speechlessness. And then he really did feel like a jack-ass.
Chapter 15
They walked back to the courtyard in silence, with Berry in his customary spot on Randall’s shoulder. Him and Nia, married? He hadn’t really stopped to consider what she had meant when she had said that Rhys had symbolically tied their fates together. He never imagined that Nia would stay with him once they had escaped their current predicament. He had just assumed that she would go back to her life in Dyffryn, and he would go on with his own.
It was hard to imagine her remaining at his side for ten years, or twenty. Or even until he was an old man, like Erliand. It hurt his brain to think the choices and actions he took today would have such far-reaching consequences, so he did his best to push the thoughts out of his head. Getting back on the road was his first priority and everything else could keep until he had time to figure things out.
“We need to figure out how to make more healing talismans without Kirsti’s interference,” he said, breaking the silence.
“Why would the Field Mage interfere?” Nia asked. Randall noted that she made a point of not using the woman’s name.
“I needed some metal blanks to engrave, and she asked what I needed them for,” he replied. “I told her I needed to carve some runes, but I didn’t tell her what I was carving. I’m not a very good liar.”
Nia rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Why didn’t you just ask the blacksmith directly? I’m sure he would have made them for you, no questions asked. You earned a lot of respect among the soldiers with your performance on the battlefield.”
“I don’t know,” Randall said peevishly, his back stiffening. “I’m just dumb, I guess.” He didn’t know why her criticism grated on his nerves so, and he took a deep breath and tried to relax.
“Just impulsive,” Nia corrected with a sympathetic smile. “We’ll figure something out.”
“Wait, you’ve given me an idea,” Randall exclaimed as they passed through the courtyard. “Do you know where the smithy is?”
“Of course,” she smirked. “While you’ve been spending all your time indoors, I’ve mostly been out here where the air is fresher. Follow me.”
The smithy wasn’t hard to find. The fortification wasn’t a big place, and there was only so much open ground between the outer walls and the tower. They arrived moments later, where a burly soot-covered man was working up a sweat pounding a strip of metal against an anvil.
Noticing his visitors, he paused and shoved the steel into a bin of hot coals. “Yeh, whatcha want?” he asked impatiently.
“Sorry to bother you sir,” Nia managed to get out before being overcome by a sneezing fit. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and she stepped back in an effort to catch her breath.
“I asked Field Mage Mikkelson to have some metal blanks made up a little while ago. I was wondering if they were finished,” Randall said.
“Workin’ on them now, ain’t I?” the man snapped. “Was told to have ‘em done by evening time.”
“Have you finished any of them?” Randall asked eagerly.
“Over there,” the blacksmith answered, gesturing to a wicker basket near the forge.
In the basket were a handful of small crudely-hewn metal squares. They weren’t pretty, but they were perfect for Randall’s purposes. He scooped them up and dropped them down his shirt, where they tinkled down until they reached the belt cinched at his waist.
“Excuse me, sir?” Randall asked, just as the blacksmith was pulling the sheet of steel from the coals.
“What now?” the man asked irritably, shoving the steel back into the coals. “I gotta work the steel while it’s hot. I don’t have time for yer jawing.”
“Sorry,” Randall said. “Do you have anything I can use for engraving? It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. I just need something that I can scratch a design with.”
“Over there,” the man said, pointing to a workbench. “There’s a stylus with a bit o’ quartz at the tip. That’ll scratch steel jus’ fine.”
Randall rummaged at the table until he found a small rod of pot metal. At one end was affixed a gemstone so tiny that he could barely see it. He held it up for the blacksmith to examine.
“Is this it?” he asked.
“What else would
it be? Take it and get out of here,” was the gruff reply. “Bring it back when yer done.”
“Thanks,” Randall called over his shoulder as he beat a hasty retreat.
He took Nia by the arm, and together they quickly made their way back to the tower. If he could get started right away, he might have time to make all the talismans he needed before Kirsti was expecting the metal blanks to even be finished. Every few feet, however, Nia was stopped in her tracks by coughing and sneezing fits, threatening to turn his eagerness to annoyance.
“Are you all right?” he asked when they had to stop yet again, just before entering the tower.
“There’s a reason I’m a hunter, and not a blacksmith,” she answered, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “I can’t stand the smell of burning coal,” she explained again after another sneeze.
“I get the same way when momma makes soap,” Randall giggled. The memory brought him a brief flash of homesickness, but he brushed it aside. “You’ll be fine in a few minutes. Let’s go, I want to get started.”
Back in his room, Randall shook the metal blanks out from under his tunic. Berry immediately leapt from his shoulder and began batting the shiny pieces of metal across the floor like some kind of hairless cat. Laughing, he flicked a few pieces across the room for Berry to chase, and Nia joined in the fun, laughing and clapping when the donnan leapt up to catch a piece in mid-air.
Randall savored the moment as long as he could. It felt good to relax and just play, for a change. For a brief moment, he could forget the weight on shoulders, and pretend like he didn’t have a care in the world. But he knew he was putting off the inevitable.
“Sorry little fella, I have to get to work now,” he said, gathering the wayward bits into a pile, counting them as he did. His heart sank. There weren’t nearly enough for him to work with.
“What’s the matter?” Nia asked, noting his dour expression.
“There are only fifteen of them here,” Randall groaned.
“Isn’t that enough? You only really needed three anyway, right?” Nia asked.
Randall shook his head. “I’m not very good at rune work. It took me all morning to get it right the first time. Fifteen might not be enough for me to do it again.”
“If not, you can always turn them over and try again on the other side,” she offered helpfully.
“Hey, you’re right,” Randall said with growing enthusiasm. “That gives me thirty chances. I should be able to make at least one with those odds,” he said hopefully.
Etching with the stylus wasn’t anything like writing with a quill. It took him a few tries to figure out the pressure and speed, ruining a number of blanks in the process. After a dozen more attempts, he wasn’t sure that even thirty chances would be enough for him to get a single talisman made.
“This is taking forever,” he whined as he put the stylus down and attempted to charge his latest attempt.
Berry scampered over and put his tiny hand over the blank. “You draw, I power,” he chittered.
“You can do that?” Randall asked in disbelief.
Berry opened his mouth, showing his teeth. Randall couldn’t tell if his friend was smiling or sneering. The imp took the engraved piece in his hand, sitting on the floor and staring at it intently. There was a quick pulse of magic, and the imp brought the metal up to his face. He sniffed at the metal eagerly, and then touched the surface with the tip of his tongue before casting it aside.
“No good,” he chittered.
“Figures,” Randall sighed, tilting his head back and forth to try to work out the knot that was growing between his shoulder blades.
With Berry helping, the work went much faster, if not more productively. Half an hour passed and Randall fell into the same mindless repetition of his early rune training. The pile of failures steadily grew larger, but he was no longer thinking about them. He would scratch a set of runes, his mind wandering. While he sat here, Rhys was traveling toward Ninove, perhaps with an elven army at his back.
A tap on his shoulder interrupted his train of thought. “Good one,” Berry chittered, holding one of the etched metal blanks out to Randall.
“Really?” Randall asked, taking the tiny talisman from the imp. The ache in his neck and shoulders melted away, as did the slight throbbing pain from his nearly-healed chest wound.
“What is it?” Nia asked. “Did it work?”
“It worked, maybe even better than my master’s old talisman.” Randall said with a wide grin as he dropped the artifact down his shirt. Looking at the remaining metal bits, he sighed. There were only a couple left. “But I’m going to need more blanks.”
“Well, you two have been at it for at least a couple of hours. I’ll bet the blacksmith has a few more ready,” Nia said hopefully. “I’ll go get them while you finish with these.”
Randall shook his head. “No, we’ll all go.”
Nia opened her mouth as if to protest, but Randall cut her off. “You could hardly breathe after the last time. We all go.”
Nia closed her mouth and nodded. Gathering up the failed attempts, the trio quickly made their way back to the blacksmith, who was hard at work pounding out another flat sheet of steel. Seeing the group, the smith paused to wave his hand toward the wicker basket, and resumed his hammering.
Inside were another dozen or so metal blanks. “Excuse me, sir,” he shouted to be heard above the ring of the hammer as Nia stood back at a safe distance.
The smith looked up, momentarily pausing in his work.
“Where can I put these?” Randall asked, showing one of the failed attempts. “They need to be melted back down.”
The blacksmith scowled. “Make squares, melt squares. Blasted waste of my time,” he grumbled before nodding his head toward the forge. “Throw ‘em in the crucible.”
Randall reached out to drop a handful of the metal chips into the hole in the large clay pot that the blacksmith had indicated, only to quickly snatch his hand back. The heat from the forge was intense. He tried again, but snatched his hand back after only getting a couple of blanks into the pot. He took a step back and eyed the opening, trying to decide if he could toss them into the pot from where he stood.
“Oh, fer cryin’ out loud,” the blacksmith grunted, shoving the flattened metal bar back into the coals. “Give ‘em here.”
Taking the ruined blanks from Randall, the smith dumped them all into the crucible as if the heat were nothing at all to him. “Be here all afternoon at that rate,” he scolded.
“Thank you, sir” Randall said apologetically, before scooping up the new metal blanks and tucking them into his tunic. The group quickly made their way back to his room to continue working.
Once they were safely behind closed doors, Randall dumped the bits on the floor and resumed turning out talismans, with Berry sitting beside him ready to try to activate each one. It didn’t take long to get back into the steady rhythm of the work, and the pile of failures grew as the minutes ticked by.
Other than the steady scratching of the stylus, followed by the clink of another bit added to the failure pile, the room was completely silent. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door that made all three friends jump at how loud it seemed in the quiet room. A moment later, and the door swung open.
“Oh, there you are,” Kirsti said, standing in the door frame, her voice dripping with false concern. There were two soldiers flanking her. “I wondered where the three of you were when you didn’t show up for lunch.”
Randall had reflexively covered the metal bit he had been working on when the door had opened, and Kirsti’s eyes slid downward toward his hands. “Oh, I see that you’ve gotten some of the metal squares that you asked for,” she said, stepping into the room. The soldiers followed her. “Mind if I take a look?”
“Uh,” Randall stuttered. “I’d, uh, prefer you didn’t.”
The smile dropped from the Field Mage’s face. “I was only asking as a courtesy,” she said. “When you came running into the officers’ me
ss instead of limping, it was obvious that you had made another healing talisman. I want it.”
“Randall, you can’t,” Nia started before Kirsti cut her off.
“Shut up, girl. Do you know the advantage such an artifact would give any army? I mean to have it,” she said before turning back to Randall. “There is no need for this to get ugly. You can make as many as...”
“Tsan’laran,” Randall said, interrupting her speech and drawing magic as he did so. This was one of Erliand’s early dirty-fighting tricks: attack while your opponent is talking. If you can catch them in the middle of a sentence, their mind is on what they’re saying, and not on what you’re doing. It can give you a split-second’s edge, and with magic, that was often more than enough.
Randall had learned the trick as a way to get the first, and hopefully last, blow in a barroom argument, but he didn’t see why it couldn’t be used in this context. The Field Mage and the soldiers didn’t even have time to flinch before the magic overtook them. Their faces slackened, and all three began to look confusedly around the room.
“Change of plans,” Randall called to Nia, scooping up all the metal bits and tossing them to where she sat on the bed. “Grab those and let’s go!”
“Where are we going?” Nia asked as the three of them sprinted into the hallway.”
“The infirmary,” he answered. We don’t have much time before that spell wears off. We have to leave now.”
Chapter 16
Randall’s heart hammered as they raced to the infirmary. He expected to be stopped at any minute by soldiers, but no one took note of them as they ran through the hallways. Still, that could change at a moment’s notice as soon as Kirsti and her guards shook off Randall’s confusion spell. The sooner they got outside of the tower walls, the better.
It didn’t take long to reach their destination. Inside the large room were at least a dozen cots filled with wounded soldiers convalescing from the recent battle. Eamon was among them, unconscious and heavily bandaged. Luckily, the medic was nowhere to be seen. Once he had patched up all the wounded, he probably had other duties to attend to.
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