Chapter 14
My breath came fast as I rounded a corner, nearly slipping on loose gravel. The alley opened up to another street, and just ahead, I saw the flickering glow of a forge—a blacksmith's shop, its heavy iron sign swaying slightly in the breeze.
Without hesitation, I threw myself inside, the scent of burning coal and molten metal flooding my senses.
A massive man stood at the anvil, his hammer paused mid-swing. His apprentice, a lanky boy with soot-covered arms, blinked at me in confusion.
"Help," I gasped, yanking my hood down. "Don't ask questions—just let me hide!"
The blacksmith barely hesitated before jerking his chin toward the back. I didn't need further encouragement.
I dashed behind a row of weapon racks, crouching low as the bell above the shop door jangled.
The man who had been chasing me stepped inside, scanning the dimly lit forge.
"You lost, friend?" the blacksmith asked, his deep voice calm but firm.
"I'm looking for a girl," the man said, his voice clipped. "Ran in here."
The blacksmith shrugged, picking up his hammer again. "Only ones here are me, my apprentice, and my customers. You see any girls, Jory?"
The apprentice shook his head quickly. "No, sir."
The man's eyes narrowed, but the blacksmith turned back to his work, raising the hammer high before bringing it down with a deafening clang against the metal. Sparks flew, and the force of it made my heart jolt.
"Unless you're here to buy a sword," the blacksmith said, not looking up, "you're wasting my time."
For a tense moment, the man lingered, but then he scoffed and turned on his heel, slamming the door behind him.
I stayed crouched until I was sure he was gone. Only then did I exhale, standing shakily.
The blacksmith glanced at me. "He's gone. You can come out now."
I swallowed hard, retreating from my hiding place behind the tools. "Thanks, I appreciate it."
The man shook his head. "A place like this is not safe for a young girl like you, especially alone. You should hurry home." He grunted.
"I'm sorry, sir," I said, my hands still premblunf.
He wiped his hands on a rag before tossing it over his shoulder. "Well, you're safe here for now. Just don't make a habit of dragging trouble into my shop."
I gave him a grateful nod, steadying myself. "Thank you. I owe you one."
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, waving me off. "Get yourself sorted, then get out of here. And next time, pick a safer place to be nosy."
I allowed myself a small smile. "I'll keep that in mind." Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the weapons he made lined up neatly on the wall.
No, what are you thinking? You can't even pick up a sword on your own. I clenched my fist. Still, having some way of protecting myself was better than nothing.
A particular set of daggers caught my attention, their hilts wrapped in fine leather, their edges honed to a wicked sharpness. I stepped closer, running her fingers along the cool steel of one.
"You sell enchanted weapons?" I asked, turning back to the blacksmith.
He arched a thick brow. "Not to just anyone."
I pulled out a large coin pouch from within my cloak. "I can pay."
The blacksmith grunted, eyeing me for a long moment before jerking his chin toward a door at the back of the shop. "Come on, then. If you're serious."
I followed him into a smaller, more private workshop. The air was thick with the scent of burning coals and metal, but here, the weapons were different—finer craftsmanship, stored carefully, some even humming faintly with magical energy.
He gestured to a display case. "These are what you're looking for."
I stepped forward, scanning the array of enchanted daggers.
Some had runes carved into the blades, others had hilts embedded with glowing gemstones.
The forge was warm despite the dreary weather outside, the steady clang of metal against metal filling the air.
As I was about to ask the blacksmith a few questions, a figure entered the shop.
I regarded him silently out of the corner of my eye as I pored over the daggers.
He wore a dark brown cloak, with leather guards underneath.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a rugged build and an air of casual confidence that bordered on arrogance.
Dark hair, slightly tousled, framed sharp, calculating eyes that flicked between me and the blacksmith.
He carried himself like someone who had been in more than his fair share of fights—and walked away from all of them.
The blacksmith barely glanced up. "You again." So they know each other.
Rowan snorted. "Don't sound so happy to see me, old man." He leaned lazily against the doorframe, his arms crossed.
"You're going to have to cough up more Rokels if you want me to fix your sword again." the blacksmith sighed.
"I didn't come here for that this time," I saw the man gesture towards the sword with a leather hilt that was at his side, perfectly intact.
He slid the blade halfway out of its sheath, and the blacksmith leaned over to inspect the metal before nodding in approval.
Then, as if just noticing me for the first time, he arched a brow. "And who's this?"
I met his gaze evenly. "A customer." A woman wasn't someone you would find normally in a blacksmith's shop, especially in the back near the enchanted items, and I was dressed fairly well even with my cloak on, so I stood out.
He let out a low whistle. His sharp eyes flicked to the daggers in front of me. "You actually know how to use one of those, or are you just here to look pretty holding it?"
I bristled, but I didn't take the bait. "I wouldn't buy something I couldn't use." That was a lie—I had never so much as held a dagger before, let alone wielded one properly. But I wasn't about to let some mercenary look down on me. Nevertheless, he seemed to accept my answer.
This is impossible... I thought as my attention turned back to the box of enchanted daggers. I had no idea what I was doing. Give me some spreadsheets and a deadline and I could get something done but this... weapons were not my forte. I need something lightweight and...
"This one," the man pointed toward a sleek black dagger with faint blue etchings along the blade, pulsing slightly as if alive. It was small and plain in comparison to the other enchanted blades of all shapes, sizes, and colors, but the blade looked incredibly sharp.
"What?"
"You should buy this one," he said.
I wasn't asking for your opinion, but... "Um, okay," I said, nodding. I picked up the dagger, which felt incredibly light in my hands. Yet at the same time it felt... dangerous. This could easily be hidden under my dress, I thought. But what are the magical properties?
I picked it up, testing the weight in her palm. "What does this one do?"
The blacksmith crossed his arms. He didn't look happy with the mercenary for doing his job for him.
"That's an ice-forged dagger. Wounds it inflicts don't just cut—they freeze.
Slows down your opponent, weakens them." He approached the box of daggers.
"You don't want that one, I can assure you.
I have plenty of other options, such as this one here.
" He pulled out a gilded dagger, its hilt encrusted with rubies.
"No thanks, Sir. I'll take this one." I said firmly, clutching the dagger to my chest. The way it pulsed, it felt like it was made for me.
Reluctantly, the blacksmith nodded. "Very well. Go to one of my apprentices in the front, and they will charge you. I believe that one is six Rokels."
Without bargaining, I made my way up to the counter to pay the soot-covered apprentice, glancing back over my shoulder to watch the mysterious mercenary. He's arrogant, but... surprisingly sharp. I twirled the blade in my hands, before the apprentice bound it nicely for me in a cloth.
"Now, Rowan, care to tell me what your business is here?
If you aren't buying anything, I suggest you leave.
" The blacksmith scowled at the cloaked man.
He thought he'd just missed making a big sale from me, but he was wrong.
Well... not entirely. If it wasn't for that man, I would have probably bought something useless.
But this... I looked at the small dagger in my hands.
It was perfectly suited for me. That man must have a talent.
Rowan smirked, clearly satisfied with the outcome of our encounter. He then turned back to the blacksmith. "I'm looking for work. I was hoping you might know someone, or need some extra help at the forge."
The blacksmith shook his head. "Told you last time, I've got all the hands I need. And I don't know anyone that would want to hire a man with your reputation, either."
Rowan muttered a curse under his breath. "Look, Ashton, you know I'm in a tight spot right now... could you show me a little leeway?"
The old man shook his head. "Part of the trouble you are in is your own doing. I cannot help you there."
Rowan sighed. "Figures. Work's been dry, but I'd rather not resort to taking jobs from bastards I can't trust." He shook his head. "There's not much work for folks like me in times of peace."
I watched him carefully. He needed work. And I needed someone who knew how to handle himself in a fight. This could be a perfect opportunity. But I wanted to know just what sort of person he was, so I listened carefully, pretending to look at some of the swords.
"I'll hire you," I said, stepping forward, my new dagger carefully wrapped and boxed. They both turned to me, incredulously.
"What?" Rowan was startled.
"I said I'll hire you. I have something I need done, and I think you're the right man for the job."
He gave me an amused look. "You? What could you possibly need a mercenary for, little lady?"
I ignored the condescension. "I need someone versatile, someone trustworthy. Someone who can track people down, get information, and—if necessary—fight."
Rowan's smirk faded slightly as he studied me. He wasn't stupid; he could tell I wasn't just some noblewoman looking for a personal guard. "Sounds like dangerous business."
The blacksmith shook his head. "You must not be from around here, if you don't know of his reputation. Hiring him could bring trouble."
"Ashton!" Rowan shot him a look.
I raised my brow. "How so?"
"He's cursed," Ashton said bluntly. "Plain and simple. He's a skilled mercenary, no doubt as capable as any good knight, but he's earned himself a bit of a reputation for attracting trouble. From those in higher places, if you know what I mean."
Rowan cleared his throat. "I'll have you know, I am not cursed." He protested, turning to me, squaring his shoulders.
"Yes, but that bounty on your head might as well be one," Ashton said. "This young lady should know that before she hires you."
"That was one time, Ashton! And it was self defense. That soldier had it coming to him."
I smiled. This is perfect... I thought. "Is that all?" I asked. It looked like this Rowan fellow had a similar distaste for corruption, and that I could get behind. Besides, I could just have my father waive his bounty.
They both turned to look at me, incredulously.
"I said Is. That. All?" I repeated slowly, a mischievous grin on my face. "If there's nothing else that affects your capabilities, then I do believe I have found myself a mercenary, and you and employer. I'll pay the standard rate."
After the initial shock, Rowan smiled, casting a winning glance at Ashton. He stuck out his hand. "You clear my name, and I'll consider your offer. But I don't work for people I don't trust. If you want me on your side, you're going to have to prove you're worth working for."
I lifted my chin. "That's good, because I don't hire people I don't trust." I pulled two rokels out of my pocket and placed them in his hand, "I've got a job I want you to do, and if you can succeed in that much, I'll consider you worth working for me full time."
Rowan grinned, accepting the shining silver coins. "Very well, Miss. I am Rowan, at your device."
I shook his hand. "You may call me Lady Grey."
The blacksmith, who had been watching the exchange in silence, shook his head. "You're both going to be trouble, I can feel it."
Rowan grinned. "Trouble's just another word for fun."
He brought his hand up to the bridge of his nose. "If you're done in my shop, quit loitering and get out of here, both of you." He showed us out the door and into the street, where grey clouds had begun to gather in the sky.
"Now tell me, what is this, should I call it, introductory job, you have for me?
" Rowan asked, turning to me. I glanced around, half expecting the men in black cloacks with dragon tattoos to come out of the shadows and lunge toward me.
But they didn't. I breathed a sigh of relief, then collected myself, turning towards him.
"Have you heard of a man with a black cloak and a dragon tattoo?" I asked. I wanted to gauge his expression. There's no way he could be working with them, but I can't be too certain.
A look of recognition crossed Rowans face, and he nodded. "I've met such a man. Nasty fellow." He shook his head. "There's a whole group of them actually, and they run a gang in these parts. They've got this section of the city under their thumbs, and the constable doesn't do anything to stop it."
I nodded slowly, acting like I was aware of all this information.
"Good, you're familiar with them. I want you to follow them and gather as much intel as you can—where they meet, what kinds of activities they do, anything.
I'll be back in a week's time to check on your progress, at this time, outside that shop.
" I pointed across the way to a quaint little abandoned flower shop, the wooden sign cracking and paint faded.
Rowan nodded. "Seems simple enough. May I ask why you're in need of this information?" He pried.
"I'm not keen on disclosing that," I said carefully.
"Well, I do need to trust the people I'm working for, after all," He shrugged.
"Is my two rokel's advanced payment not enough to do that for you?" I scowled, realizing what he was searching for. I reached for another silver rokel inside my bag and flicked it, tossing it up in the air at him, which he caught with ease.
"Very well, Lady Gray. I won't let you down," He smiled slyly, sinking into the shadows.
Glancing around the alleyways as the sky began to bleed, I managed to find my way toward the market. With my hood keeping my dress warm and dry, I dashed to the carriage where the driver jumped, surprised at my approach.
"Lady Rosaria!" He exclaimed. "Where have you been? Your escort knight has been looking all over the place for you." As if by summons, the escort came running through the rain towards us.
"My lady! Are you alright?," He said, placing his hands on his knees. " You must not run off like that. I feared some ruffians had taken you."
I scratched the back of my head sheepishly. "Sorry, Gareth, I just got a little turned around." I tried to look as innocent as possible, with my dagger pushed against my skin under my dress. It was no longer pulsing or emitting energy, which I was glad of.
"It's alright, my lady. It's my fault. Next time, I'll be more careful and won't lose you in the crowd," He said assuringly, opening the door of the carriage for me.
"Thank you," I replied. "I would expect nothing less, though nothing bad happened today." Inside, I was cringing. I didn't want them to tighten security—it would make it harder to investigate the city.
As the carriage rolled over the bumps, I shook my cloak off to dry and thought of the mercenary I had just hired. Let's hope he proves to be a valuable investment, I sighed. It would be nice to have someone working for me in the shadows.