For weeks, Trak makes his preparations for smelting iron. When he constructs a new kiln on top of the broch’s battlement, Krage asks what he is doing; Trak explains he is trying to incorporate alchemy principles into the smelting of bronze. This seems to placate the alchemist. Trak isn’t ready to confess that he has stolen a peek at Krage’s book and wants to make iron.
Trak systematically prepares a supply of charcoal from the hardwoods preferred by smiths, crushes ore between heavy granite boulders, , and fashions a large, air-tight, leather bellows that he fits with a fire hardened ceramic tip called a tuyere. After assembling everything on the roof, he makes his first attempt. When the kiln is opened and the crucible removed from the ash, Trak recovers a disappointing ounce of partially smelted metal that is still heavily contaminated by chunks of unchanged rock and slag waste.
On the third attempt, Trak discards the crucible. He fills the cylindrical kiln with charcoal and lights the fire. After pumping the bellows until the coals are white hot, he adds to the top of the cylinder layers of crushed ore alternating with more charcoal. After two hours of adding and pumping, Trak waits for the charcoal to burn itself out before breaking the kiln open. Digging in the ash, Trak knocks out first several lumps of slag and then a porous ball of orange-hot metal. While the bloom is still hot, Trak uses a stone hammer to flatten the metal ball into a small ingot. Trak is relieved to have finally made iron, but he dejectedly notes that the starting materials, which took weeks to prepare, are now consumed. At this rate, it will take months to produce enough metal to create one sword. Trak is exhausted and discouraged. He has to design a kiln that will increase production a hundred fold and do it quickly.”
Krage’s book provided a design for a large kiln with the needed capacity, but Trak has no idea how he can force enough air into the kiln to heat such a large volume. He has made iron, but as yet does not know how to transform the incredible hard lump of metal into a useful weapon.
***
The leader of the sapper unit is Tumorg Rockeater. A veteran, he is, in fact, the only sapper who survived the last war. The others were blown to bits while trying to transport a wagon of explosives to the battlefield. The heat from the explosion that fragmented his comrades left the right side of Tumorg’s face scarred in a hideous snarl. From Tumorg, Trak learns that sappers are more correctly referred to as combat engineers. It is their job to facilitate the movement of the army and impede the efforts of the enemy. They typically travel in front of the army and build bridges and temporary fortifications to accelerate the advance.
After a few weeks of teaching the newly recruited sappers the basics of bridge building and tunneling, Tumorg begins demonstrating rock-climbing techniques. He gathers his recruits on a cliff overlooking the sea. They stay well back from the edge to avoid being blown over by the strong gusts that swept the coast. The villagers are aware that evil spirits live in the winds and occasionally a malicious spirit will grab someone and throw them off the cliff.
As is customary among military instructors, Tumorg employs fear to motivate his students. He orders his trainees to crawl to the edge and look down at the sea breaking on the rocks below. When they are sufficiently frightened by the sheer drop and the sharp rocks, he says, “I am going to teach you how to build a climbing harness and secure yourself to a boulder. Pay attention! In a few minutes you will jump off this cliff. Those that haven’t paid attention will be smashed on the rocks below. That will annoy me because I would have to explain to the duke why you are no longer in his service.”
Trak pays careful attention, but is still terrified the first time he leaps backwards off the cliff. Tumorg allows him to drop twenty feet before catching his fall. Trak finds himself swinging two hundred feet above the rocks below. Tumorg leaves him swinging for ten minutes to get accustomed to the height. The moments prove pivotal. While swaying in the blowing wind, Trak conceives of an unusual kiln—one driven by the wind itself.
He announces to the alchemist, “I know how to make iron. I require two hundred pounds of charcoal and a hundred pounds of crushed ore as fast as you can obtain it.”
Krage stands silent for a moment and replies, “You shall have it in a week.”
Trak immediately begins constructing his new furnace. After manufacturing a dozen conically shaped ceramic pipes, he hauls two hundred pounds of clay, sand and straw to the edge of a cliff. In a fissure near the top where the wind is strongest, he builds a thick clay wall against the cliff’s face and curves the ends to produce a convex bowl. With more clay he adds a flattened front to the oval-shaped kiln with the dozen clay cones embedded in its face. Trak tests the kiln with a small fire that also serves to dry the clay. The wind whistles through the conical pipes and shoots up the flue. Trak has harnessed the wind to power his kiln. “This is going to work. Gobshite! This better work!” he says out loud.
Krage says much the same thing when he arrives to observe the first smelting. Trak fills the stack with a third of his charcoal. He lights the fire and is gratified to see how the wind rapidly brings the coals to a red heat. Trak alternatively feeds a few ounces of crushed ore and then an equal weight of charcoal into the stack. After fifty pounds of ore have been introduced over four hours, he adds more charcoal to keep the fire raging for another hour. They wait all night for the charcoal to burn down and the kiln to cool before Trak breaks through the clay wall and recovers twenty pounds of metal. Some of it has the porous consistency of the wrought iron he produced in the small kiln on the broch’s roof, but over half is dense metal, free of slag and unsmelted ore. It is high-grade iron with just the correct amount of carbon. It is probably the first steel the world has ever seen. The weapons made from it will be the first of their kind.
Trak shows the new metal to Baelock who has the tools needed to make the first sword. Together they discover that to be malleable, the new metal has to be heated white-hot in a forge. Trak beats a chunk of the raw material into a short sword. He knows how to strike the ingot so that it flattens and elongates and yet maintains the required width. At one end he shapes a tang where the handgrip will be attached. While he works, Trak’s active mind observes that each time he reheats the sword in the charcoal forge the metal becomes less flexible. He has to gauge when the central shaft of the sword has the required strength and flexibility and the tapered sides are sufficiently brittle to retain a sharp edge. He permanently fuses these characteristics into the blade by quenching the sword in hot oil. After he grinds, sharpens and polishes the blade using a stone wheel, he fits the tang with a bronze hand guard, a hard wooden grip and a bronze pummel. On the blade he etches the words, “The First” and signs the sword with his mark.
Trak shows his sword to Krage. The alchemist is excited but almost afraid to put the sword to a test. He cringes as the captain of the duke’s guard stages a duel with one of his soldiers. The steel sword quickly splinters the soldier’s wooden shield. When the steel and bronze blades first meet, the bronze sword is left with a deep gash, and on the second contact breaks in two and flies clattering across the cobbled courtyard. Krage is elated. Trak has solved the mystery of iron making, but after considering the situation further becomes fearful. The alchemist realizes that Trak’s discovery might save the goblin kingdom in the next war, but only if the secret can be protected long enough to fashion hundreds of weapons.
Krage warns Trak, “If the enemy finds out that you have learned the secret of iron, they will send assassins. We must find a way to make new weapons and hide what we are doing from the eyes of enemy spies.
Krage instructs Trak to prepare a parchment describing the new smelting and forging techniques. It is time to meet with the duke. He hands Trak several sheets of parchment, a straight edge, a quill and a bottle of ink.
Five minutes later he notices Trak sitting at the table looking perplexed. Then Krage realizes that Trak has never written with a quill on parchment. With the old goblin, he used only a slate tablet and chalk. She reserved her small supply of parchment
for her plant drawings. “No matter,” the alchemist mutters. He picks up the quill and cuts a fresh tip so that Trak can see how it is done.
Drawing the kiln is a challenge requiring several attempts. Krage doesn’t seem to mind Trak wasting parchment and ink. When Trak shows the alchemist the final drawing, Krage studies it for a minute and says, “You need to sign your work, so all who read this will know to whom credit is given.”
At the bottom of his drawing, Trak signs his name and draws his mark–a zigzag superimposed on a vertically positioned sword. The zigzag entwines around the blade like a serpent. He hands the sheet back to Krage. “Is this a jest?” asks Krage. “Did Meg put you up to this?” By now Trak has decided that “Meg” is the alchemist’s name for the old mother in the woods. He wonders how they know each other, but decides now is not the time to ask.
Trak explains that the mark is a conflation of two objects associated with a metal smith’s profession, a bellows and a sword. Krage looks satisfied, but when Trak pulls up his shirt and shows Krage the tattoo on the right side of his chest, Krage is startled. “There are few who know the hidden meaning of your symbol. Fortunately, none who know are likely to see this drawing. If you are ever in the capital, keep your chest covered.”
Chapter 6
King Red’s Fortress, Bretwalda: The King’s Unabated Rage
Far from the Isle of Uisgebeatha, in his fortress on the southern mainland, Red, the king of Bretwalda, sits slouching in his throne as he addresses his council. “How goes your great plan?” he begins, turning a cynical gaze toward Baron Teiber, his military commander.
Baron Teiber of the Westlands rises and responds. “I have good news, Your Majesty. Our spies may have found the goblin sorcerer. They report that on the Isle of Uisgebeatha, the goblins are building new kilns, and there are rumors that they have discovered a new metal.
The despot jumps to his feet. “At last! Gods be praised! This is better than I hoped for. Attacking the island presents some logistical problems, but it will be much easier to invade than to fight our way through the entire goblin army to reach their capital. We must attack quickly. With luck, we can recover the stolen book and kill the scheming squid that took it before the goblin infestation spreads.”
***
For nearly a generation, the king sought revenge for the humiliation he suffered at the Thaumaturgist’s hands, but it was as if his nemesis had disappeared from the earth. The story was widely known in both kingdoms. The goblin high priest, the Thaumaturgist, had come south to negotiate a treaty. When negotiations failed, the Thaumaturgist kidnapped King Red’s young queen who was with child. From the royal library, he stole the secret of iron making. Upon hearing of the duel theft, the king entered a fit of rage that resulted in the captain of his household guard being summarily executed. The king’s rage never abated, and over time became permanently etched in the lines of his aging face. When the sorcerer abducted the expectant queen, he took from him the heir to the throne. The king expected Queen Meriem to be offered in ransom, but no demand ever came. He offered a reward to anyone who provided information and sent turncoat spies scouring the goblin kingdom.
There was an unsubstantiated claim five years ago that the queen and her child had been seen in the temple beneath Holy Mountain. A border merchant had come forward in hopes of receiving the king’s gratitude. He told the king that a goblin exporter with whom he did business informed him that he had delivered a cargo of five hundred butterfly cocoons to the temple, and that the queen and her daughter had personally come to the temple’s delivery entrance to receive them. The king scowled and said coldly that unless he brought proof, he was wasting the court’s time. The merchant was ushered out of the court before he revealed the second part of his message—the exporter claimed that the queen’s daughter was a cross-breed.
Now in his sixth decade, the king anguished over his doomed dynasty. The king remarried twice and produced other offspring, but the law prescribed that the line of succession pass through the House of the Dragon, the queen’s lineage and not his. If King Red didn’t produce a child by Queen Meriem, then the heir to the throne was the queen’s cousin. The loss of his heir was humiliating, but for the goblins to gain the secret of iron making was a calamity. By controlling iron production, he hoped to keep the goblin menace at bay. When the secret fell into the hands of the Thaumaturgist, the king feared a goblin invasion was imminent. He preemptively attacked the goblin kingdom, but by the summer’s end, it was clear that his armies were not sufficiently equipped with the new iron weapons to carve a path all the way to the goblin capital. The king withdrew.
The king brooded for another decade until four years ago his new commander, Baron Teiber, proposed a ruse to bring the sorcerer out of hiding. He suggested that the king let it be known he had ordered the manufacture of a hundred thousand iron weapons and was preparing for a massive invasion of the north to exterminate all goblins. Faced with the specter of genocide, the goblins would use the stolen secret to begin producing iron weapons of their own. The Baron reasoned, “When our spies detect where new forges are being built, we will know where the sorcerer is hiding.” It was a calculated risk. For years the council reported no success—until today.
***
The baron suggests an invasion plan. “As you are all aware, there are no beachheads on the Isle of Uisgebeatha that can accommodate the landing of our warships. Therefore, we propose the following: We preface our invasion of the island by first creating a credible diversion on our northern border. This will draw Duke Amin’s army off the island to meet the perceived threat. Once the army has left the island, our warships will sail up the channel and, in the night, dispatch a large raiding force in small boats. The raiders will attempt to seize the castle before the alarm is sounded; but if they fail to capture the castle immediately, we will reinforce our troops on the island and lay siege to the castle. Our troops and our warships should have no difficulty blocking attempts by the duke to return to the island. The high priest is most likely hiding in the castle. Even if it takes months to starve the castle into surrendering, we will capture the sorcerer and return him to Bretwalda to face the king’s justice.”
The plan is agreed to with minor modifications. The diversion will commence in the spring when the roads have dried sufficiently to allow the wagons to travel. The invasion of the island will follow as soon as the duke’s army arrives on the mainland.
Chapter 7
Beware of a cat that licks your face but scratches your back.
Goblin Proverb
Isle of Uisgebeatha:
Duke Amin Giantslayer rises to welcome Krage Oregile as he strides into the reception hall followed by Trak. “Greetings Lord Krage, I am told you bring glad news.” His rotund body and thin legs which are decidedly toad-like have earned him the unkind nickname of “Duke Toad.”
“Yes, your Grace, the task is accomplished and none too soon, I fear.” As the alchemist speaks he hands the duke the iron sword and Trak’s drawing of the forge that he hopes will save the kingdom in the coming war. As Krage helps the duke understand the details of the diagram, Trak stands to the back of the room examining for the first time the front of the familiar wainscot and pinpointing the exact location of his hiding place in the passage.
“You must take this discovery to the high king.”
“Yes,” replied Krage. I would like to leave for the mainland, as soon as your smith, Baelock, is trained in the construction and operation of the new kiln. He can oversee the production of weapons for your army.”
Gobshite! Trak thinks. He is disappointed. Why Baelock and not me? It was my invention. His answer comes in Krage’s next sentence.
“If you will kindly provide us with an escort, my apprentice and I will leave in a fortnight,” Krage gestures with a head nod in Trak’s direction.
“The kitchen boy?” blurts Farg who is standing beside his father. “He can’t make a decent cup of tea. What use will he be to you? He can’t even wield
a sword.”
“Lord Farg,” replies the alchemist. “The kitchen boy, not I, invented the furnace that we have so highly praised. He will serve admirably as my scribe. It is he who penned the document that the duke holds in his hand.”
Krage thanks the duke for his support and leaves the audience chamber; Trak stumbles behind, muttering to himself, “Apprentice?”
When they arrived back in the broch the alchemist laughs, “Did it please you the way Farg had to swallow his own turd?”
Trak tightens his lips to suppress a smile and, bypassing Krage’s question, jumps to the issue that most concerns him. “Am I truly your apprentice?” he asks.
“Unfortunately, no. You will assume the disguise while we travel to the capital. I don’t doubt that you would make an excellent alchemy apprentice, but regrettably, since I am not an alchemist, I can’t make you a true apprentice.”
Trak tries to hide his disappointment “Why are you pretending to be an alchemist?” At the same moment Trak recalls that the duke had referred to him as “Lord Krage”, a strange way for a duke to address a subordinate.
“King Giforing, the Ard Ri, sent me to this island to hide and protect from our enemies items of great importance. He further charged me to discover the secret of iron making. Now that you have done that, we must return to the mainland and present your discovery. Who and what I am, we will discuss at another time.”
The thought of becoming an alchemist appeals to Trak. During the previous weeks, he has spent countless hours in the broch’s alchemy lab. He never found anything that aided him in his quest to make iron, but he read everything he found on the shelves and harvested the secrets they contained. Trak learned that alchemy is the search for the magic by which base metals could be transmuted into gold and silver and for an elixir by which life can be prolonged indefinitely. It is also a philosophy in which the transmutation of metals serves as a metaphor for the purification of the self to achieve a higher consciousness and spiritual awakening. This transmutation of a person’s soul is to be accomplished by a stone or elixir often called the Philosophers’ Stone.
Forging the Half-Goblin Sorcerer Page 7