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Chapter Five: Labour

After a week I was ready to leave. Ready to make good on my plan. I had improved greatly in swimming, fishing and gathering. I was still a bit bad at tracking, but that was ok. On my last night in the village, Baka invited me to her hut. Kooda and Tyla were there along with a fourth. I sat quietly and patiently, as the fourth member engraved my left horn. At the base were two murals, done in sweeping rings all the way around my horn. The frost, depicted myself as a spear fisher, the second, as a gatherer. The rest of my left horn was engraved to resemble a great and towering mountain, with spaces left for other murals to be added in.

It was a tradition I was happy to accept. I spent the rest of the night with Kooda, intimately so. He was the dominant sort, as I had been with Seht back in Siricuse. I now understood why someone would want to be a more submissive partner when it came to those sorts of things. But I knew after that night that it wasn't for me. I preferred to be the dominant one, the one in charge. Still, I enjoyed my last night in the Ashwood Cape.

I left early in the morning, wearing just my cape and a small pack on my back, laden with thick soft wool and furs on the inside, two eggs nestled away within. Besides this I was naked, only a braided leather cord about my waist, a small pouch containing three shark teeth and a water skin hung from it. I took the long route, making my way through the woods and around to the base of the hill, till I found a road and marched up the hill to the Keep along it. The men there let me in without any fuss and I made my way down to the forge, to Bjorin.

He handed me my four throwing axes, all mall and lightweight, made of a dark metal that had a reddish hue to it in the light. The handles made of a pale ashy white wood that curved slightly inward. He also handed me a belt. A single two and a half inch wide band of treated leather that hung snug on my hips and waist. The clasp lay on my left side and was hidden under a small buckler shield that had been stamped with the same image the button on my cape had. On the top lip of the belt was woven twelve small loops, through which a braided cord of leather was run, with its own small iron clasp on my right side. Thus ensuring no one could simply snatch the belt off of me.

“You will work to pay for your goods. Three days I spent forging and crafting. So three days you will work the forge with me. As payment." Bjorin stated. I nodded, happy to accept. I stashed my cape, my belt and the axes away with the eggs and my pack, in a small alcove in the wall on the far left side of the room and began to work. Bjorin was very blunt. If I made a mistake or lagged behind, he would flatly tell me so and pull me off that task to put me on another. For six hours this procedure repeated, until I found something I could do well.

Sharpen and polish blades.

So that is what I did for the next three days, whetstone in hand, sharpening swords, axes, pikes, spears daggers and more. It was a task that required little strength to do, it was tedious and repetitive but I took to it with pride. I slept in the same alcove my belongings were stashed, I ate only when my work was finished and I spoke little. Using the time to run through my plan over and over in my head. As I worked throughout the days, warriors, knights errant and bounty hunters would sometimes come down to the forge. To thank Bjorin for the quality of his work. They brought with them tokens and tributes.

“I alone am not to thank, I only forged the blades. The lizard did the rest." He said flatly, eyes not parting from the metal he pounded before him. Thus, I found myself receiving small tokens as well. Mostly in the form of small gifts. Scraps of paper with strange writings on them, silk kerchiefs, cockades and strange coins, stamped into iron with a particular relief.

“Blood money." Bjorin explained. “Show one of those to a Knight Errant, or a bounty hunter and he is yours for but a single fight. A warrior lives and dies by the quality of his blade, the sharper the better."

I stashed these tokens away with the rest of my belongings, but that statement made me think. The trek to the Claw Keep would be long and no doubt, dangerous. I had my four small throwing axes, but nothing else to defend myself. I thought about that for the duration of the last day of debt I owned Bjorin. By then my arms hurt and my fingers were muddy and sore. I had worn down an entire whetstone, but I knew I would have to wear down another. I wanted a weapon of my own, something to defend myself. So as the third day drew to an end I approached him with another request.

“Excuse me. I was wondering if I could make another request. I'll work to pay it off, but I wish to be armed on my journey north." Bjorins eyes narrowed on me, sizing me up. I did not care what the cost would be, I'd work another week if I had to.

“And what is your request."? Bjorin asked.

I thought hard for a few minutes before I answered. “I'd like two blades. Small ones, one that I can parry and disarm with, and a second to attack with." Daggers were my preferred, the smaller and lighter the weapon, the better I was, this much I knew from experience. I was not a strength based fighter, I was more of an agile one, quick and light on my feet with a decent aim and good throwing arm. Bjorin stared at me, his eyes piercing into me. He then hefted up his hammer and struck the burning iron on his anvil with a grunt.|

“Then you will work five more days here," He said. I went right back to it without a word. I worked day in day out till I was too tired to continue. Grinding blade edges, sharpening them, polishing the metal to a shine. Sometimes I would be told to go and fetch material from the storehouse. But for the next five days I pretty much lived down in the forge, bathed in the pleasant heat of the furnace as I worked and slept. The work was gruelling but I found it calming.

As the fifth day came to a close, with the week all but over, Bjorin presented my arms to me. I beheld as he produced two blades as I had requested. The first was not a dagger, but a thick crescent moon sickle. It bore a sharp wicked looking point and was double bladed, with a flat wide cross guard an inch from the beginning of the blades curve. That small space between the back of the blade and the cross guard was perfect for catching my enemies weapons. The second blade was also not a dagger, more so it was a special type of short sword known as a dirk. It too was finely made with the same fashion of wide cross guard. The handles for both blades were made of the same ashen white wood. The metal had the same darkish irony colour with a red hue to it. I tested the weight of each blade, finding them perfectly balanced. Each had a steel ball at the end of the pommels, a counterweight for the blades.

Bjorin had also made for me two sheaths, one for each, and had them added to my belt. The sickles sheath was hidden under the clasp guard for the belt, the dirks was to be worn on a special strap that was made to be worn high up on the base of my tail. This made it very easy to draw the weapon in my offhand as I decided to wear my sickle on my offhand side, meaning I could draw it more easily with my dominant hand.

I thanked Bjorin greatly for his work and set to sharpening my new blades as I had done with others for the last eight days. I still had one day left before my week here was over. So I decided to procure some supplies and some clothing too. I picked out a good looking Frai from the camp at the gates. The broad split skirt like garb was immediately familiar to me. But I knew I would need to modify it for the colder weather the further north I went. So again I went to Bjorin and asked if perhaps he could help and again he deemed that I would repay his labour with my own. This time however, he simply ordered me to take inventory of the forges supplies. I figured he was taking it easy on me, but I didn't complain.

At last when the sun set on the eighth day, I retired to the bath house and soaked my sore and tired body in cold crisp water. It felt good to work. To contribute to something. I thought, what would my life have been like had father not sold me? Would I be working the land like him? Tilling soil, planting crops, herding livestock perhaps. Certainly a noble profession and a necessary one. But I already knew that the life of a farmer was not for me. No, I wanted to fight. Though I had yet to spill blood, sure I'd fought thralls and those monsters in the wetlands in Dragonholme. But they were undead, golems, things. No, I had yet to actually kill someone. But could I? If it came to it, could I actually do it? Did I want to? Part of me wanted to return to Master Virgil, to become a soldier. But part of me wanted desperately to find my mother and sister and just disappear. Live a happy and long life.

I let out a sigh, looking down into the calm water of the tub I sat in, looking at my own reflection. Looking into those striking red eyes of mine, sat within that draconian face. This is who I was now, I had accepted that long ago. But now I needed to decide who I wanted to be.

Confliction. It was so familiar to me. “What am I doing."? I asked myself. Speaking quietly, I let my head roll back until I stared up at the ceiling, watching the candles of the chandelier flicker.

“I know what I want to do. But I don't know if it's the right decision." I said to no one in particular. I closed my eyes and pictured the mountain, the cabin and the small figures off in the distance playing. I wanted that. But could I have it? As of recently my life has been unpredictable and chaotic. So I felt afraid to dream of these sorts of things, I had enemies out there, ones that wanted me captured or dead and I didn't know who or why. I knew one thing though, so long as they were out there, I couldn't let my guard down.

First I would take my mother and sister someplace safe, someplace these enemies couldn't reach them. Then I would hunt my enemies down and kill them. Protecting my family was my only goal now, but where to take them? Where could I go that they would be safe?

That lone thought occupied my head for the rest of the day and all though the night.