A Matter of Honor (Privateer Tales Book 9)

by Jamie McFarlane

  "What would you have us do?"

  "Merrie thinks she can make steel."

  Eliora shook her head in confusion. "I don't know what that is."

  "Stronger and lighter than iron. We could make longer knives," Amon said.

  "You could do that?"

  "Maybe."

  "I would be careful of bringing 'maybes' up with Captain Gian. There are many in the settlement who have been quick to blame him for the last attack."

  The conversation was cut short as they arrived at the main camp. A single Ophie lay dead, cast to the side. Those it had killed, three from the party, had been carefully laid in a wagon.

  "Eliora, what of your attacker?" Captain Gian asked as he approached.

  "It is dead. Amon crushed its skull," she said.

  Gian gave Amon an appraising look. "Well done, blacksmith," he said. "We did not fare as well. We lost Territ and one of the laborers."

  "You should know I was only able to kill the Ophie after Eliora hobbled it with her knife."

  "Is this right? You attacked an Ophie with a knife?"

  "I'd spent my crossbow bolts already and it hadn't fallen. When it attacked Amon, I cut its ankles like we've been trained."

  "If only I had ten more like you, Eliora," Gian said. "This better have been worth the price we paid today, blacksmith."

  ***

  "Dad says we need the council's permission to build a full-size furnace," Merrie said. She'd been Amon's constant companion for the last tenday.

  "So you've said," he replied.

  Amon shoved the long knife back into the fire.

  "Your knives are beautiful, Amon," Merrie said, picking up one that Amon had already finished.

  "Eliora says they're too heavy," he said.

  "I doubt that. She loves her knife."

  "Yet if we make them long enough to be practical against the Ophie, they'd be too heavy."

  "How much steel would you need to make a real sword?"

  "A few kilograms, why? What have you been up to?" It hadn't escaped his notice that Merrie had secreted several kilograms of raw ore.

  "I made a small furnace and I've set everything up. I just need help running it," she said.

  "Does Merik know?"

  "Yes… No… I'm not sure. Besides, he's always saying I need to be more self-reliant."

  "You're either a genius or a crazy person," Amon said. "And I don't know the first thing about using steel."

  "Yes you do. It's a lot like your work with iron. Look," Merrie handed him the engineering pad. It was one of the few remaining working computerized pads in the settlement, having been handed down from Ozzie to Merrie.

  "You shouldn't have this outside," Amon said.

  "It wouldn't be if you'd come over to the lab," she said.

  Amon looked at his nearly healed leg, still in a cast. Merrie followed his eyes and smiled impishly as if to suggest she'd simply forgotten about his injury.

  Merrie leaned over and started a video showing an ancient smith. Amon watched in rapt attention as the smith formed, flattened and folded raw steel repeatedly until, as he explained, it was as strong as it could possibly be. After that, the man shaped it and drew a fuller down the center of the sword, creating a ridge of steel. He spent almost as much time polishing and sharpening. In the end, he'd created a magnificent looking blade, which he demonstrated was capable of cutting through just about anything.

  "That folding technique is different, but the rest looks familiar," Amon said.

  "See. You already have all of the tools and skills, you just need upgraded materials," she said.

  "What do you need from me?"

  "The furnace has to be tended. Here. I've created a schedule." She handed him the engineering tablet. On the screen was a long list of instructions that would easily take six or seven hours to complete.

  "I'll help, but on one condition," he said.

  "Name it."

  "You have to transcribe these instructions to paper. I'll not be responsible for damaging this pad. Tell me, how many other inventions are there like this that we've been too proud to look for?"

  "Elder Blaken says pride goes before a fall."

  "And a haughty spirit before destruction. Merrie, we cannot let our people fall due to ignorance."

  "When can you help?"

  "Mother is installing the new hinges tomorrow. I might not be able to do much, but she wants me there to direct people."

  "What are you doing tonight around 0100?"

  "Sleeping?"

  "Perfect. I'll let you sleep and wake you when I need help. Guarantee, we'll be done by 0700."

  "Where is this furnace of yours?" Amon asked.

  "North wall, in the old tannery."

  "That place is falling down, you should be careful in there."

  "Agreed. But it's filled with bricks and I needed those for the furnace. "

  Amon felt a long story coming and needed to head it off. He enjoyed Merrie's company, but he had work to complete. "Fine. 0100 it is. You better go and don't bring that tablet tonight."

  She gave Amon a quick hug and ran off. The lingering smell of light perfume caught him off guard. He sighed, wondering what he'd gotten himself into. Merrie was an enigma, full of energy and smart as they came. The perfume, though, that was new.

  He hobbled around the smithy and helped Nurit clean up. She'd been polishing gate hinges, while he'd spent the day hammering out a new batch of knives.

  "What did Merrie want? You two have sure been spending a lot of time together," Nurit said.

  "She's working on a project and is looking for help."

  "Still on about that steel furnace? I thought Merik said the council wasn't interested."

  "I hadn't heard that. But yes, she's working on a miniature version."

  "As long as it doesn't interfere with your work. She's a beautiful young lady and smarter by a meter than most. I'm surprised some lad hasn't caught her eye."

  "She intimidates the available men," Amon admitted.

  "Not all of them." Nurit smiled.

  Amon ignored his mother. "I'm going to help her run a batch tonight. I won't be back until 0700."

  "Don't be late, we'll want everyone there."

  It was 1230 when Merrie rapped on the window to Amon's bedroom. He woke easily and found his mother sitting in the common room that joined the two bedrooms.

  "Be careful tonight and take two sets of the leathers with you," she said, setting down the book she'd been reading.

  "I'll see you at the gate in a few hours."

  "Amon, tell Merrie I hope her furnace works."

  "I will. She'd appreciate knowing you feel that way."

  Amon exited the living space into the smithy, grabbed leather aprons and long sleeved gloves and met Merrie on the darkened, cobblestone street.

  "Who were you talking to?" Merrie asked.

  "Mom."

  "What did you tell her?" Merrie asked.

  "That we were going to the tannery to run a load through your furnace?" Amon said, making it sound like a question.

  "You told her that? What did she say? I thought she hated the idea."

  "She said she hopes it works."

  "So, she doesn't think it'll work?"

  "No, you silly squirmunk. She says the council doesn't like to use the maker-machine for stuff they don't understand. She also thinks you're about the smartest girl she's ever met."

  "Hmm."

  "What are we in for tonight?" Amon asked, looking to change the subject.

  "It isn't very complex. I ground up the hematite boulder you brought back from Ozzie's last trip, sort of a tribute."

  "I like that," Amon said.

  "When we get there, you'll see another pile. It's partially burned coal coke, like you use in your forging fire," she continued. "We'll stack the coke in layers with the hematite in the furnace."

  "Is that it? We just light it up?"

  "No. There's a whole process that I'll explain as we go. We'll
be busy the entire time," she explained as they entered the old tannery.

  Along the back wall of the abandoned building, Amon saw the two meter tall brick furnace Merrie had recently constructed. A narrow hearth at the front was covered by a thick iron plate and a tube protruded from one side. As promised, the piles of hematite and coal sat neatly behind the furnace with a ladder between them.

  "It's called a Tatara Furnace. What do you think?"

  "You've been really busy. What's that tube?" Amon asked.

  "Oxygen supply. There's a fan on the end so we can control the temperature."

  "Does Merik know you're doing this?"

  "Yes. He caught me borrowing tools and equipment."

  "What does he think?"

  "He said he was glad I was coming up with my own ideas and chasing them down. However, I'm not sure if he thinks we'll be successful or just wants me out of his hair."

  "Is he really short on work? I thought he had more work than he could get done," Amon said.

  "He does, but he also thinks we're stuck in our ways and that we need to be trying new things."

  "I can see that, but it's hard to explore new ideas when you're busy. I'd think Merik would be really worried about getting things done with Ozzie gone."

  "Ozzie's death shook him up. No matter what's going on, Merik has always insisted I spend at least two days each tenday doing my own projects. But, when I showed him this idea, he gave me take the entire tenday to work on it."

  "That's different. So, what do I need to do?"

  "Scoop hematite ore. The idea is to get carbon out of the coke and into the iron. You'll shovel two scoops hematite, I'll shovel coke on top of that and we'll alternate all the way to the top of the oven. As it heats, it'll slump down and we'll keep adding material in alternating layers until we run out. I think we have four hours of material, but it's my first time so I'm not sure."

  ***

  "I thought you were going to let me sleep," Amon complained. After a long five and a half hours, they'd just run out of hematite.

  "Yeah, sorry about that. I didn't want to stop while we still had material. You'll thank me later?" Merrie said.

  Amon chuckled, slumping to the ground next to her.

  "When will it be finished?" he asked.

  "I'll monitor the heat until we burn the entire thing out and I'll keep swiping the dross off. I hope Merik won't be too annoyed. I won't be able to help with the gates for at least two more hours."

  "You'll get a chance to find out shortly. If I'm right, that's Mom and Merik coming in the smithy's mule right now." Amon pointed at a pair of headlights bouncing off a nearby building.

  "But, it's only 0630. They said they weren't starting on the gates until 0700." Merrie's voice rose.

  "Don't sweat it. It'll take us at least two hours to set the straps in the wall and another hour to bolt the hinges onto the door. I'll go slowly. They're always accusing me of it anyway," Amon said, looking at the sooty face of his evening's companion.

  "Don't get in trouble for me."

  "We're in this together, Merrie. You've made a believer out of me and I want to see what I can make from your steel. I want to try to make a real sword, not just daggers."

  "You mean it?"

  "From what you've shown me, the only skills I'm missing are folding and tempering. Otherwise, swords are just like making long, thin iron daggers." Amon stood and offered his hand.

  Merrie brushed off her pants as Nurit and Merik pulled to a stop in the smithy's vehicle. In the cart behind the mule lay the unassembled hinges for the city's main gate.

  "How'd it go last night?" Merik asked, hopping out, handing Merrie a steaming cup of coffee.

  Merrie gratefully accepted the cup with a broad smile. "It's taking longer than planned. But we loaded the last of the material into the furnace twenty minutes ago."

  "I reviewed your bench notes last night. Up 'till that point I thought you were constructing an electric arc-furnace," Merik said.

  "I want to, but without use of the maker-machine, an arc-furnace isn't practical. I'm hoping Master Nurit and Amon will be able to demonstrate the value of this steel and the council will give me the go-ahead." Merrie looked nervously from Merik to Nurit.

  Merik turned to Nurit, who'd climbed out of the cart and was crouched, inspecting the furnace's oxygen inlet. "Nurit, how about it? Are you interested in working with Merrie's steel?"

  "We've had good success with our iron and it may be too late to teach this old bird any new tricks," Nurit answered. "Amon's got the energy for this though, and he's his own man."

  "Amon?" Merik asked.

  "I believe our settlement is at risk, Master Merik," Amon answered. "We've too long relied on our founder's technology. If we are to survive, we must develop our own. I hope Merrie's steel is just the beginning."

  Merik cocked his head and smiled at Nurit. "He sounds so much like his father."

  "Yes he does. Now, I hate to break up the conversation, but we have crews meeting us at the front gates," Nurit said, climbing back into the driver's seat of the vehicle.

  "Are you able to leave, Merrie?" Merik asked.

  "The furnace will finish in ninety minutes. It would be ideal if I stayed and monitored the smelt," she answered.

  "Understood. Perhaps we'll spend time discussing project planning in our next session," he said.

  "My apologies, Master. The project exceeded my time estimates by a significant margin."

  "And, so it is with most projects."

  Amon climbed into the mule behind Merik and gave a friendly wave to Merrie as they pulled away. The trio rode quietly through the abandoned section of the settlement, the empty buildings a stark reminder of their losing battle with the Ophie.

  At the front gates, they found the master stone mason and his crew driving wide iron wedges into the seam at the base of the wall, lifting the wall just enough to make room for the hinge straps.

  "Master Pessach, good to see you this fine morning," Merik called, jumping from the cart, extending his hand to the older mason.

  "About time you showed up. We've no time to be standing around, Merik. The smith's failed gates allowed those lizard devils to tear down half my city," Pessach growled.

  "Very well. We'll start at the bottom and work up."

  "Would you also instruct me on the consistency of my mortar? No? Good! I'll let you know when I need your help," Pessach said and turned to the group of laborers he'd brought along, continuing barking instructions.

  "Let's get started, Amon," Nurit said, ignoring the grumpy mason.

  Together they carried an iron hinge strap over to the newly exposed sandstone block. They lay the strap next to the channel that had been carved from the block centuries ago. They slid pins, four centimeters in diameter and ten centimeters long, through the strap and stepped out of the way.

  Pessach directed his crew to fill the empty channel with mortar and then seated the strap and pins in the soft bed, clearing the extra material by deftly flipping it away with his trowel.

  "Lift now. We don't have all day," Pessach barked at the laborers, who'd been assembled to man the block and tackle. It took several minutes of fussing before he was satisfied with the block's placement. "Check your measurements now, Merik," he said. "Once we release this stone, we'll not be moving it again today."

  Merik verified the measurements and nodded for them to continue.

  At 1200 they stopped for lunch, having set the four straps on the left side and the first on the right.

  "I'd thought Merrie would return by now," Nurit said to Amon as they sat under the shade of a tree twenty meters from the front gate.

  "I hope she didn't fall asleep. She didn't rest last night," Amon said, leaning back against the slick trunk of the tree. "Is Master Pessach always in such a foul mood?"

  "His wife was killed in the last raid. He blames Merik and me for the failure of the blasters and gates. I understand his grief," she said.

  "There's Merrie,
now," Amon nodded in the direction of the gate. Merrie had joined Merik, and the two were talking with Pessach.

  "We've a long afternoon ahead of us," Nurit said. "We might as well get back to it. I'll have you start assembling the hinges on the doors."

  "Very well."

  It was 1830 when the second door's final hinge pin was slid into place and the cap-nut securely welded onto its end.

  Captain Gian, who'd been checking on their progress throughout the day, approached as Nurit and Merik were adjusting the gate's locking mechanism to fit with the new configuration.

  "Will we be able to lock it this evening?" Gian asked.

  "It is locked now," Merik replied, smiling. "I believe there will be some settling over the next tenday, so we'll be back to make further adjustments. For now, however, it's all yours."

  Gian sighed audibly. "That is a great relief. Although, now that the Ophie have discovered the weakness in our blasters, I'm afraid they'll attack the southwest gate."

  "I have a plan for making our remaining blaster mobile. It would allow us to relocate more efficiently if another gate comes under attack," Merik said.

  "We're vulnerable if they simultaneously attack multiple gates. Is there no way to restore the broken weapon?" Gian asked.

  "No, it is beyond our ability," Merik answered.

  "I see. That is indeed bad news, but we'll plan accordingly," he said. "On another matter, I've been receiving reports of activity in the old tannery. Was it your apprentice that I saw over there?"

  "Yes. My apologies for not informing you earlier."

  "What was she doing?"

  "It's a project you might find interesting. Merrie, would you share with Captain Gian what you've been doing?"

  Merrie's face turned bright red as the conversation turned unexpectedly toward her.

  "Yes, of course. Really, it's a multi-disciplinary project. I believe I've constructed a furnace that will allow us to smelt steel," she said.

  "Why is this significant?" Gian asked.

  "Steel is twice as strong as iron - properly tempered, even more so. With steel, our blacksmiths will be able to craft long blades that are practical for your protectors to wield. Additionally, we will be able to produce long bows and arrow heads that I believe will pierce the natural armor and be small enough to penetrate to the vital organs of an Ophie."