Chapter 22
Jonathon stopped by to see the castle’s healer who put his arm in a sling. Thankfully, it wasn’t broken after all, but it was severely sprained. He wouldn’t be able to swing a hammer in the smithy for at least a month. This was going to really hurt their business.
He returned Rook’s armor to the armory, and headed back to the blacksmith’s shop within the castle’s walls.
It was hard to ignore the happy people who were celebrating Sir Whitehead’s win.
Raven should be his wife, not another man’s.
He cursed her silently and then he cursed himself.
Why in the devil’s name did he have to fall in love with a woman who was off-limits to him?
This was the first time he knew love—real love in his life.
Sadly, now that love would die inside him, because he couldn’t let it blossom and bloom.
He and Raven were two people from two different walks of life and that is all they would ever be.
“Brother, did you see what happened?” Avery ran up to him with Gerold at his side. “Lady Raven broke a knight’s arm because she decided she didn’t want him to win the tournament after all.”
“Nay, that’s not true,” said Jonathon softly, heading to the shop. “She only sprained it.”
“How do you know?” asked Avery. “Hey, what happened to your arm?”
“I sprained it.”
“Just like the knight did,” said Gerold.
“Oh, no. Please don’t tell me that was you?” Avery looked horrified at the thought.
“It was,” he admitted. “I only did it to help her, but now nothing matters.”
“You didn’t really think you had a chance with her, did you, Brother? Or for that matter, even have a chance to win a joust against a seasoned knight?”
“I suppose not.”
Gerold opened the door and entered the shop but stopped and turned around.
“There are two men here that I’ve never seen before,” said the boy.
“Well, they’ll have to go somewhere else to get their armor fixed or polished,” said Jonathon. “I can’t work until my arm heals. Plus, I am packing and leaving right away.”
“Leaving? We’re leaving already?” asked Avery, sounding like he didn’t want to go.
Jonathon stepped around the boy, but stopped in his tracks when he realized who had come to see him.
“Jonathon, there you are,” said one of the men.
“Guild Master Wilkin? Guild Master Shroud?” asked Jonathon, surprised to see the masters from the armorers’ guild in the shop. “What are you doing here? Did you come to watch the tournament?” God, he hoped not. He never wanted them to know his part in this big deception.
“Jonathon, offer them a seat.” Avery stepped forward and moved the bag with Raven’s armor in it, putting it on the floor. “Please, won’t you sit down, guild masters?” he asked.
“Hrmph,” snorted Shroud, taking a seat. Wilkin remained standing.
“We are here because that woman at your shop in town begged us to give you another chance,” said Wilkin.
“What woman?” asked Jonathon. “I don’t understand. I told you I had no piece to present and also no time to make one.”
“Gerold, get them some ale,” Avery interrupted again, working diligently to please the guild masters. “I’ll start a fire to warm the room.”
“After the last time I saw you in town, that woman dressed like a man followed me outside,” explained Wilkin. “She assured me you would have a final project to present to us that was unique and like nothing we’ve ever seen before. That is why I agreed to it.”
“Raven,” said Jonathon under his breath. He hadn’t thought the day could get any worse, but he was wrong.
“I told her we’d be here the day of the tournament. Didn’t she relay the message to you?” asked Wilkin.
“I guess it must have slipped her mind,” grumbled Jonathon, knowing now why Raven had kept trying so hard to get him to work on his masterpiece.
Gerold poured two tankards of ale and gave one to each of the men.
“Where is your masterpiece?” asked Shroud. “We have been here for a while and need to leave, so please present it to us for judging.”
“Yes, we’d like to see it now,” said Wilkin, taking a sip of ale. “We have a very busy schedule.”
“Masters Wilkin and Shroud, I’m sorry to say that you have been brought her under false pretense, and I knew nothing about it until now.”
“False pretense? What do you mean?” asked Shroud, sounding less than pleased.
“Aye, explain yourself, Armstrong. Do you have your presentation piece or not?” asked Wilkin becoming impatient.
“Nay, I do not,” Jonathon answered directly, wishing he could say otherwise. “I have nothing to show you, because I have taken on two jobs here at the castle and didn’t have time to prepare my masterpiece. I’m sorry.”
“Nothing?” asked Shroud.
“At all?” asked Wilkin. “If not, you know that this will ruin your chances of ever becoming a master craftsman. We traveled here because we were promised you were ready to present. If you have nothing to show us, then you will not get another chance. Instead, you will be naught but a journeyman for the rest of your life.”
“That’s right,” said Shroud. “It’s a shame, but now you will never have the opportunity of owning your own shop.”
“I know,” said Jonathon with a sigh, sitting and rubbing his hurt arm. “I am sorry to have wasted your time, but I have no masterpiece to present to you.”
“Armstrong, you don’t know what a mistake this was. Word will spread about this and you will be blacklisted from now on. Respect is too important to the guild to ignore this incident.” Wilkin plunked the cup down on the table. “Let’s go, Guild Master Shroud.”
“It’s a shame,” said Shroud, getting to his feet. “I had such high hopes for you, Jonathon.”
Jonathon felt like crawling into a hole and dying right now.
His life had gone from bad to worse so quickly.
Now he had nothing to look forward to in life at all.
Part of him almost wished he had been thrown in the dungeon, because at least that punishment would have been something he deserved.
Now his dream of becoming a master craftsman was doused, just like the flame of the forge each night, and he’d had nothing to do with the dastardly outcome.
“Oh, hello, there,” said Raven, walking into the shop just as the guild masters were about to leave. “Guild Master Wilkin, is it?”
“Yes, my lady,” said Wilkin with a slight bow. “And this is Guild Master Shroud.”
“My lady,” said Shroud, bowing as well.
“Hello,” she said to the second man.
“We were just leaving,” Wilkin explained.
“Leaving? Already?” she asked. “Why?”
Wilkin and Shroud exchanged looks and then Wilkin was the one to speak up. “Excuse me for speaking so freely, my lady, but you look familiar although I’ve never met you before.”
“Oh, we have met, at Jonathon’s father’s shop in town,” said Raven. “I followed you outside to talk to you when you were about to leave. Don’t you remember?”
“That was you dressed in dirty clothes and looking like a man?” Wilkin gasped.
“Yes, that was me,” she answered.
“My lady, you told us Jonathon would have a masterpiece to present to us and he doesn’t.”
“We travelled a long way for nothing,” said Shroud.
“Oh, nay, that’s not true,” said Raven. “He does have a presentation piece, I assure you.”
“Raven, please,” groaned Jonathon, getting to his feet. “No more lies.”
“I’m not lying.” She looked around the room and headed over to the corner. “There it is. I’ve been looking everywhere for it.”
“My lady, we are on a tight schedule,” complained Wilkin.
“Jonathon is being too modest,” said Raven, picking up a bag and heading over to the table. “This is his masterpiece to present to you for judging. I am sure it is like nothing you have ever seen before.” She spilled the armor out onto the table.
Jonathon’s mouth fell open. Raven was using the armor he made for her as his presentation piece for the guild masters.
It was an ingenious idea. Why hadn’t he thought of it?
It was sure to impress them. Still, it wasn’t right, and he couldn’t make them believe this is what he’d planned all along when it wasn’t true. The lies stopped here and now.
“Nay, guild masters. That’s something I made, but is not my presentation piece,” he told them.
“Let me see that.” Wilkin hurried over and picked up the helm. Shroud inspected the chest plate.
“These are exquisite,” said Shroud.
“This armor. It is so small and lightweight,” said Wilkin in surprise.
“It’s for a lady,” Raven told them. “Actually, Jonathon made it for me.”
“Armor for a lady?” asked Shroud. “I have never seen or even heard of anything like it before.”
“Look at this fine work and attention to detail,” said Wilkin, turning the helm around and around in his hands. “Little etched hearts and roses?”
“Aye. That was just an afterthought,” said Jonathon. “I thought Lady Raven would like it.”
“I do like it,” said Raven. “As a matter of fact, I love it. Guild masters, I’ve already worn the armor, and it works wonderfully.”
“Now this is something worth waiting to see.” A large smile spread over Wilkin’s face.
“But it’s not my masterpiece,” said Jonathon, just wanting to be honest.
“Well, why the hell not?” asked Wilkin. “It should be. I say it is. Now, excuse us for a moment, we need to talk in private.”
“You can use the bedroom,” offered Avery, showing them the way.
“Raven. Why are you here?” asked Jonathon, once the men went into the other room. The pain in his hurt arm was becoming unbearable and he needed a strong drink.
“I wanted to tell you I was sorry for hurting your arm. Is it broken?” She reached out to touch it, but he held up his other hand to stop her.
“Nay, it isn’t broken. However it is too sprained for me to be able to swing a hammer. I’m afraid I won’t be able to work in the forge for at least a month or more until it heals.”
“Well, Jonathon Armstrong, that will give you plenty of time to start your own shop,” said Wilkin, having overheard their conversation. The two men returned.
“Pardon me?” asked Jonathon. “What did you say?”