Chapter 11 Hell
The journey back into town was quiet, almost peaceful.
The fracture Reina had slipped through was sealed once more, though I could already feel the strain settling deep into my muscles.
That would hurt later. Thankfully, I had the cart now and would not be walking home.
My finger traced each line of the list I had made.
More fabric. More food. More healing supplies, because Margaret was convinced someone would come home injured.
I mapped out my route through town, deciding which merchants to visit first and which shops could wait.
There was one stop I kept trying to justify.
The blacksmith. We would need weapons... wouldn't we?
Never mind the fact that I could forge them myself...
and better than he could. His craftsmanship was...
adequate. Something in me tugged all the same.
Curiosity, perhaps? I simply wanted to see him again.
To get to know him a little better. Besides, I had brought my own blade with me.
Perhaps he might learn a thing or two from a proper bladesmith.
By the time I reached town, the afternoon sun hung low, painting the warm streets in shades of gold and amber.
Most of the shops would be closing soon.
Only a handful, if memory served, would keep their doors open by lamplight.
I hurried from merchant to merchant, gathering everything on Margaret's list and stacking it neatly into the cart.
Food, fabric, bandages, tinctures. One by one, I crossed each item off until there was only a single stop left. My pulse quickened. Ridiculous.
The sun was sinking quickly now, the gold of late afternoon surrendering to purples and pinks that stretched long shadows across the merchant stalls.
Shopkeepers packed away their wares to the sound of fading music while neighbors lingered over warm smiles and easy conversation.
I tied the horse and cart to a hitching post before making my way toward the blacksmith's display.
I peered past the cluttered shelves of blades.
Nothing. Though, to be fair, I hadn't seen him the first time either.
I wandered around the stall instead, lifting swords from their racks and turning them over in careful inspection.
Hm. I kept every criticism firmly behind my teeth.
Just in case he happened to be within earshot.
I had circled the little shop three times, and he still hadn't appeared.
My shoulders sagged despite myself as I turned to leave.
“No complaints this time?” I nearly leapt out of my skin. The voice came from somewhere behind the shelves. How in the seven hells... I whipped around just as he stepped out from between two racks of weapons, wiping soot from his hands with a rag.
“Gods! You're awfully good at hiding. Someone ought to put a bell on you.” I pressed my hand to my chest, my heart still racing from the start. He looked entirely too pleased with himself. I craned my neck, trying to see where he had come from.
“Perhaps I was only hiding from your harsh criticism.” He pouted his bottom lip, and I could feel heat creeping up the back of my neck at the sight of it.
“It isn't criticism. It's professional opinion from someone who has actually mastered her craft.” I brushed an imaginary speck of dust from my tunic. “I'd think a true craftsman would welcome the opportunity to improve his blade composition.”
“You speak rather confidently for someone who has yet to prove she can forge anything of better qual...”
His words faltered as his eyes widened when I produced my blade from the holster at my waist.
He reached for it immediately. His fingers traced the intricate carvings along the hilt, tiny stone soldiers frozen in salute.
His thumb brushed the edge of the blade, and he winced at the sharpness.
I crossed my arms, pleased with myself, and allowed a smug smile to tug at the corners of my mouth.
He turned the blade toward the fading light, studying the temper.
Then the balance and the weight. “...Gods. You've been holding out on me.”
He presented the blade to me with a mock bow.
“I stand corrected. What methods do you use? Refined forging? Progressive grinding?”
His cadence became more excited as he leaned closer.
I opened my mouth. Nothing. “...I...” Panic rose in my chest.
We were supposed to keep a low profile, blend in.
I could not tell him I used magic to forge these.
But I also had no idea what he was talking about.
I had never needed to learn the names for any of it.
Magic had always done what my hands asked of it.
I'd never had to think about the process before. I simply...forged.
He stole the smug smile right from my lips, and it spread across his own. The heat faded from my neck and crept into my cheeks. I lowered my head, my mind spiraling to find a response.
“Ah… so not a bladesmith then…” He hesitated, as though debating whether he should, before reaching up and gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“That’s alright…you didn't have to borrow someone else's work just to prove a point, or try to impress me. I thought you were just fine before you tried to one-up me.”
His voice was impossibly gentle, but it did nothing to stop my embarrassment from morphing into annoyance…then fury.
“Borrow someone else's work?” My arms crossed tightly over my chest.
“Try to impress you?” I held my chin high and arched my brow.
“Just. Fine?” My voice rose with each question, incredulity dripping off of every word.
He blinked back at me, stunned. I hastily holstered my blade and turned to leave. The nerve.
“Wait. I…I didn’t mean to…” He followed after me, trying desperately to explain himself.
But I would hear none of it. I picked up my pace.
Huffing with each step. Before he could reach me, I climbed atop the cart and spurred the horse into a gallop, leaving him behind in a cloud of dust. Pompous ass.
When I returned home, Liv was waiting for me. I dropped the sacks and crate of supplies the moment I stepped through the door, and slammed it behind me.
“How was the trip to town?” Her voice was wary.
“Fine.”
I made for the stairs, for my room. She followed. I love Liv, but she does not know when to leave well enough alone.
“Is everything okay?” She stopped me just outside my door.
“Yes, I am simply tired from closing the fracture.” It wasn't a lie, though it was not the true reason for my mood. The soreness from sealing the fracture had settled deep into my shoulders.
“If you say so.” Liv's smile twitched at one corner, as though she knew better than to believe me. “We will talk later… We still have some time before Ezra is at the wall. You could rest.”
I nodded and stretched my arms, then immediately regretted the movement.
“I think that is a good idea. I might take a nap. Wake me when we need to go.”
She nodded and offered me a small smile.
I closed the door behind me. The moment I was alone, I peeled the dust-covered tunic over my head and collapsed face-first into the pillow.
I would very much like to forget this entire day.
If I never saw another blacksmith again, it would be too soon.