The Silver Sheen Chronicle - Emblems of Power

by C.L. Patterson

  The Captain and Raemon returned to Noiknaer in the evening, just before sundown. He left Raemon at the barracks with instructions to admit himself to the medical wing for inspection. The wrappings and bandage looked clean enough, but a closer examination could show signs of infection. A field dressing only went so far. With one of Kosai’s swords and the pouch of hot black sand attached to his belt, the Captain went to the Forge.

  The Forge had a close relationship with the Barracks and caravans. Most people who visited the Forge needed small things like hinges and tools. The government caravans needed steel reinforcements for their wagons and special harnesses for the suon.

  The students of the Forge learned best from the projects that came from the Barracks. Repairs on weapons, shields, helms and other pieces of armor required both a firm hand and a delicate touch. If a sword needed sharpening, it was pressed against the wheel and moved side to side like a mother gently rocking her child to sleep. If a spear needed a new point, molten steel was cast into a mold and sharpened by hand with a whetstone as if it were a delicate sculpture. Round slabs of steel were heated, hammered, sanded and washed repeatedly until they became shields. The hiss of hot steel in water, the pounding of hammers on metal, the billowing of the fires all combined in one chorus of craftsmanship.

  Like many of the other schools in Noiknaer, students came from all around Tessír and the southern countries to learn, but unlike many schools, the Forge had competition. The other blacksmith school in Noiknaer was funded by the Three Brothers syndicate, and offered its products and services to the public at a half the cost of the Forge. Even with the higher costs, the Captain always chose the Forge for its reputation of higher quality; that and the fact that the Head Smith was his sister.

  She was a short, small-framed woman with short blonde hair. What she lacked in stature she made up for in a ferocious temper and tongue. She had once lashed out at a student for leaving a blade in the heat too long and almost melting it. The student seemed to shrink with every word that came out of her mouth and never came back.

  “The will of a blacksmith needs to be harder than iron and steel. Else the metal will not move under his hammer,” she would say the day after a student left, which was quite often. “If you cannot take the lashings of a woman’s mouth, you are not worthy to wield the flame of any forge. It takes discipline, focus and a hide as thick as a leather apron to survive here. In the Forge, we temper and purify metals with heat, we pound out the flaws and we drown out imperfections in water. We do this repeatedly until the metal becomes exactly what we want it to be. I will do the same thing to you. I will burn you, pound you, drown you with my temper and you will become exactly what I intend you to become; the best blacksmiths that anyone has ever seen. Take it or leave it.”

  The forge was a one-story building with a high peaked roof. A metal chimney crowned the building and plume after plume of black smoke billowed out into the desert air. The Forge was on South Interior road and right across the street from the Three Brothers Blacksmith. An awning stretched out from the front of the building. Beneath the awning was a long wooden trading table. Customers would approach the table and purchase an assortment of goods. On the wall, behind the trading table, hung buckets of nails, hinges, horseshoes in different varieties, axe heads, hammers, pliers and scissors. Each bucket had a metal plaque above it, labeling the item with a price per pound.

  A balance scale was bolted into the middle of the table with counterweights next to it. On a busy day, there were four to five students tending to customers, jotting down quotes on custom orders while another, more senior student, ran the balance and took the money. This late in the evening, there was always only one student left at the forge. His name was Paerek but everyone called him Paer.

  When he first tried to introduce himself, due to his guttural voice and impaired speech, all that anyone understood was Paer. It took a couple years before the Captain could completely understand what he was saying. He was a head and a half taller than the Captain and looked as though he had never seen a decent meal. His arms were the same thickness from wrist to shoulder. He looked up as the Captain approached the counter.

  “Hey,” Paer said in a slow, rising tone. “Be with you in a second.” Paer had a long, thin metal rod in one hand and was cutting it into short sections with a pair of clippers he held in the other. After cutting the rod six times, he set the tools down and stood… very slowly. He placed his hands on his back and arched upward like a slow and majestic sunrise. “What can I do for you Captain?” The Captain took Kosai’s sword out from his belt and laid it on the table.

  “I need this sharpened and I need to speak with Ellene. Is she around?” Paer looked down at the sword, over at the bed of coals, at the Captain and then down again at the sword before he nodded and went through the wooden double doors and into the forge. Each door had a metal disk in its center. A forge hammer engulfed in flames was etched into each disk.

  “How many times have I told you Paer,” Ellene said fiercely. “No new customers this late at night … I don’t care if it is Councilor Steran! No new customers… Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” Ellene came through the doors. Paer was right behind her. When Ellene saw the Captain, she threw her arms around the Captain’s neck, squeezing him tightly. The Captain returned the embrace. “Brother it’s good to see you. What happened to Kosai? I heard he was in pretty bad shape,” she said still hugging him.

  “It’s good to see you too sister.” They ended their embrace and smiled at each other. “I have two projects for you.” The Captain removed his silver four-pronged amulet from his neck and placed it on the table. “I need a replica of this made, minus one prong and I also need a box made for this sword.” Ellene picked up the blade and looked at the blood stains and nicks in the metal.

  “I’ll have this repaired as well,” she said slowly as she continued to examine the weapon, cautiously drawing her thumb across the flat, black stained portion of the blade.

  “That won’t be necessary.” The Captain straightened his shoulders and leaned forward slightly, staring firmly into Ellen’s eyes. Ellene nodded.

  “Paer, fetch me a quill, inkwell, paper and my measuring tape please.” Paer nodded and went into the forge. “What happened out there?” Ellene whispered.

  “Do you remember the night Kosai came into my care? Do you remember what I told you about what happened in the tower?” Ellene gasped and placed her hand on her chest.

  “You don’t mean…”

  “That same figure, known only as the Dark One, has come back, and tried to kill Kosai. I still remember how he told me that he had a need of me and my guard. Yesterday I learned that our routes are planned by the Seer from the School of the Faye. Supposedly, Kosai’s encounter with the Dark One was planned and it was Seen that Kosai would be able to kill him, but the school is unsure how.”

  Ellene held up a finger for silence, and then turned towards the Forge.

  “And don’t forget the drying sand,” she called to Paer, then to the Captain, she whispered in an undertone, “That should buy us more time. Something else is bothering you though, I can see it.”

  “My gut tells me that there is much more to this, more to this sword, more to everything that has happened recently, and some voice in my mind tells me that Kosai is at its epicenter. I need to talk to a few more people about the condition of this sword before anything happens to it. The facts surrounding the incident are so fantastic, and there is so much to take in, it will take some time to make sense of it all. Could you do me a favor and keep your ears open and if you hear anything about Kosai, let me know.”

  “Of course,” Ellene said with a somber nod. Just then, Paer came out of the forge with the quill, paper, inkwell, drying sand and measuring tape. After placing the amulet on the paper, she traced it with the quill, and then measured each section on the amulet, marking the widths and lengths of each section. When she finished, she laid the quill on the table, spread the
drying sand over the paper, and looked up at the Captain.

  “It will be ready tomorrow afternoon. Give Kosai our best,” Ellene said. She handed the sword back to the Captain, handle first and smiled.

  “I will,” the Captain replied. He turned back down the street and made his way back to the Barracks.

  It was dark when he arrived and his students were performing their evening duties. Some were sweeping and mopping the floors, others washed windows. There were a few in the training yard organizing the sparring weapons and raking the dirt. The Captain smiled at each of his students as he walked by, and each student seemed to work with more vigor. Satisfied with his students’ efforts, he went to Kosai’s room. He lit the lamp with a sulfur match and sat in the chair. Kosai lay strapped to his bed with a thin wool blanket draped over him. The strap around his head was removed.

  “How was the escort Captain?” Kosai asked groggily.

  “We were ambushed. One of our guards was injured but should make a full recovery,” the Captain said.

  “It’s almost a surprise if we aren’t attacked,” Kosai said shaking his head. “I heard some talk from the nurses. The guard admitted himself this afternoon and the field dressing was rather impressive,” Kosai said. He gritted his teeth and groaned. He flexed every muscle in his arms and chest, attempting to block out the pain.

  “The pain is good for you,” the Captain started.

  “I know. It will make me stronger,” Kosai said through gritted teeth. The Captain stayed seated in the chair, focused intently on Kosai. When the pain subsided, Kosai took a couple deep breathes and relaxed.

  “Sir, you had mentioned on our last visit that you had an assignment for me.”

  “Yes,” the Captain said. He stood and walked over to the bedside. “I may have found the reason why our caravans are being attacked, though I’m not sure who is responsible for the attacks.” The Captain turned and stared out of a window into the training grounds. The moonlight cast a white glow on the ground.

  “Sir?”

  The Captain turned from the window and began to pace around the room, explaining his appointment with the School of the Faye, how the Seer planned all the routes, and how the route information was being compromised. He also explained the history of the Dark One and what Kosai’s part was in all of it.

  “So, I am to find whoever is leaking the route information and learn how to kill someone that even the most talented teachers failed at?” Kosai asked. The Captain walked over to his bed and leaned over him.

  “Are you sure, absolutely sure that you didn’t injure him?” the Captain asked. “Think hard. Remember! What about the gash in your leg? Do you remember how that happened?” Kosai closed his eyes and furrowed his brow.

  “I stabbed him in the gut. My blade didn’t hurt him. It was like cutting mist. He broke it in half and took the portion that was in him, and stabbed my leg with it. I took it out and defended myself. I slashed at his leg and then at his wrist as he brought the club down on me again. I remember! The blade made contact both times. The club fell out of his hand. He grabbed his wrist and the lightening shot out of the vile. Then he disappeared. Captain, I hurt him.”

  “Yes, Kosai you did,” the Captain said. He smiled and sighed. “I think that was the first time in a long time that he felt pain.”

  “When am I supposed to report to this school and what about my work in the Barracks? I will be graduating in a couple months.”

  “Your assignment begins when you are healed and no sooner. Your mentor at this school is labeled by the Seer as the prime suspect but don’t let it blind you; suspect everyone. While you are with this school, I will be investigating the Three Brothers syndicate. You may have seen their members in the city.”

  “Yes, their caravans were with us the morning I was attacked.”

  “My theory is that they are buying the information on the government routes and then hiring the nomads to attack the caravans. For now, get your rest, you will need it. I will keep you posted. We will worry about your graduation later.”

 

 

  CHAPTER 6