Mighty Hammer Down

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Mighty Hammer Down Page 11

by David J Guyton

Alana awoke to a strange vibration. She thought maybe it was thunder, but looking out the open window, she saw only a few wisps of clouds curling through the sky in their futile attempt to hide the stars. Perhaps she had just dreamed the feeling. She often had strange dreams when she slept anywhere unfamiliar, and she had apparently been asleep in Rommus's bed all day and night. It was dark, but a single candle burned on a small workbench across the room. She heard a muted clanging through the floor beneath her.

  Soon the noise stopped, and she heard boots scuffing the wooden stairs. Rommus appeared with some water and sat it on the table next to her. He smiled at her and her heart jumped. He was the kind of man that she had always dreamed of when she was a little girl. Seeing him there in the dim light made her imagination run wild with thoughts of other bedroom scenarios by candlelight. It was a shame that the situation she had gotten herself into would not allow them to ever be together. Her fantasies fluttered away to the ground like the dry leaves of fall.

  "Did the noise wake you?" he asked.

  "The rumbling feeling woke me, not your banging. What on earth are you doing down there?"

  "I was finishing an axe for a Nobleman. I didn't make that rumbling, I thought it was thunder until I came up here and looked out the window. There are no windows downstairs, only vents."

  "What could it have been then?" she asked as she scratched her side and pulled herself up in the bed.

  "I don't know. It was something big though. Maybe something fell over nearby. Maybe a statue or part of a building; although I can't imagine that sort of thing making enough of a boom for me to feel it while working steel downstairs. Maybe it was thunder coming from the south and we just can't see the clouds from these windows yet." As he spoke he opened the drawer of the table next to the bed, removed a small velvet bag, and lit a candle there on the table.

  "What's in the bag?" she asked.

  "It's a secret."

  Her shoulders slumped with disappointment as she looked into his eyes. Then she realized that he was going to show her what it was.

  "You wouldn't have lit the candle if you didn't intend to show me."

  "You sure are a clever one," he said with a smile as he dumped the bag into his hand. "This isn't for you this time, so don't get your hopes up."

  She playfully smacked his arm at the comment, and sat there waiting for him to show her the treasure. He held out his hand, palm down, and she held out hers, taking the item. When he moved his hand out of the way, she could see what it was. Her mouth hung open with astonishment.

  "It's my first attempt at jewelry. I figured it can't be much different than weapons, except it's smaller and not sharp."

  She smiled at the ridiculous comparison. "Rommus I am amazed. I am not one to wear jewelry really, but this makes me wonder if I should reconsider." She ran a finger around the intricate markings on the golden pendant in her hand. "Is this for -what was her name?"

  "Mirra. Yes. I have been working on it on and off for about a month in my free time. You think she'll like it then?"

  "If she doesn't absolutely love it, you need to find yourself a more appreciative woman." She cursed herself, fearing he might consider the comment rude.

  Instead of reacting to her remark, he reached down and flipped over the charm. "I carved this on the back. It's our rock. You remember it. It's where you and I met the first time. She and I sit there for hours sometimes and laugh and talk and watch the sun set."

  The carving was done amazingly well for being so small. He had even gone to the trouble to carve rays from the setting sun, and seagulls in the air. "Oh Rommus, you are so thoughtful. She is lucky to have a man like you who cares so much for her."

  A sadness came over her and she felt a stab of jealousy in her heart as she thought about this wonderful man who she could not have. She hoped that he would be happy with Mirra the rest of his life. Suddenly guilt tipped the scales of her emotions because of what she had tried to do to his father. She began to cry.

  "What's wrong?" he asked, sitting on the side if the bed.

  "Nothing Rommus, I'm sorry. It's just so sweet of you, that's all."

  She hoped he would believe her little lie and not ask any more questions. She wiped her eyes and did her best to flash him a smile, handing the pendant back to him.

  "Well, I am going to go see her now and surprise her with this. I came up here to check on you and make sure you didn't need anything. You're free to stay as long as you like, and I don't want to hear any complaints about how you're intruding and taking up all my time. How does your leg feel?"

  She moved her leg to test it. She had honestly forgotten all about the wound, and it didn't bother her to move it. "Actually it feels pretty good. I'm lucky that it was mostly just skin that got stabbed and not muscle. I don't want to rip it open, but it doesn't really hurt. It just feels a little achy and numb."

  "Very good," he said as he stood. "Is there anything else I can get you before I go?"

  "No, I think I'm ok. You tell her if she doesn't love that thing then she has to answer to me."

  He smiled down to her. "I'll let her know. If she's wise she'll avoid any trouble with you. I'll be back in no more than two hours. Oh, before I forget, I found the sheath to the dagger. It's here on the table next to it." He turned and went down the stairs.

  Alana cried a little louder once she knew he couldn't hear. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was, but she couldn't very well tell him the truth. She pulled in ragged breaths between sobs, unable to see clearly through her watery vision. Wiping her eyes, she decided that she wanted to go to the window to watch him walk away. She hoped that he would use the streets and not the alley where she couldn't see him. Being careful not to tear her stitches, she got out of bed, taking her dagger with her, and hopped on her good leg over to the window.

  A moment passed before she saw him in the street. The moonlight was not bright enough to make out any details, but she could tell it was him by his determined, imposing stride. He was a man that could strike fear into anyone with only a glance, and yet he made no attempt to intimidate anyone. If anything, he showed only kindness-at least as far as she could tell. Suddenly she felt an overwhelming urge to follow him. It was a stupid thing to do in her condition, but her heart sang when the idea came to her head. When she was very young, her father told her to follow her heart. It was just a saying until she met this man. Her soul filled with a hot determination. She would go and see where this Mirra lived.

  A quick final glance through the window showed the street Rommus turned onto. Suddenly a figure appeared from the shadows and followed behind him. Icy terror flooded through her as she rushed down the stairs, ignoring her painful wound.

 

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