“That has to be the strangest thing I’ve ever seen,” Angst stated. “I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to it.”
“Just getting caught up on some reading.” Dallow smiled knowingly.
“Right,” Angst replied.
They sat at a large marble-top table in the middle of the enormous library. The room was three floors tall and featured a square, forty-foot atrium covered with a glass ceiling. Sunlight flooded the room, showing off tall marble pillars and staircases. Shelves containing thousands of books circled each floor. The library was stunning, though Dallow frequently complained about it. The sunlight made it easy to read the books, but aged them prematurely. The glass ceiling broke almost every winter, allowing the weather to cause irreparable damage. And not to mention the beautiful atrium was an ineffectual use of space that could’ve been used to shelve more books.
Dallow studied Angst as he looked around the room. “So, to what do I owe the honor? You aren’t here to harass me about my short visits to Wizard’s Revenge, are you? You know how my wife hates it when I’m away.”
“I should harass you, but no. I need your help. I’m being sent on a mission, of sorts.” Angst was trying a different approach this time. Maybe asking for help would work better.
“Really? That sounds fun. Are you in need of maps? I know of an excellent atlas. How about a compendium of some rare creatures you may come across?”
Angst cut him off. “Actually, I need you to come with.”
Dallow laughed. “I love your jokes, Angst, but this isn’t the best day for jokes. I’ve got a lot of reading to get caught up on.”
“I’m not joking. I’m headed to Rohjek in a couple of days and need you along.”
“Look, I really can’t,” Dallow said gently. Never wanting to offend anyone, he smiled in spite of a frown shadowing his forehead. “Traveling to Rohjek isn’t the safest thing to do right now, from what I understand.”
“That’s why you have to join me. You know, well, you know everything in this library. I need that knowledge. I need you by my side.” It was coming out a bit more desperate than Angst had intended.
“Look, Angst, I appreciate you asking, but it’s not a good time. My wife and I, it’s complicated, believe me that it’s just not a good time. I’d love to go on one of your adventures, but I can’t. Thank you but no.” Dallow had all but dismissed Angst, and he put his hands back on the books.
“Dallow, I really need this. Can’t you help me?”
Dallow gave a fake, polite laugh. “I really can’t, old friend.”
How was it that not one of his friends would willingly join him? His voice took on a hard edge. “Look, I’ve supported everything you’ve ever done. I have been there whenever you’ve asked, and even the times you haven’t asked. I was there when your wife was going to leave you. I was there when you were arrested. I’ve never asked anything of you, except this.”
Ignoring him, Dallow set his long fingers back on the books, his eyes becoming opaque again.
Angst pulled a folded parchment out of his pocket then slid it under Dallow’s left hand.
His trance broke immediately. “Um. This says... This says that...did I read this correctly? I have to go on this trip?” His eyes clearing, he scanned the handwritten decree to confirm what he’d sensed. Dallow’s eyebrows jerked up, and he stared at Angst in disbelief.
Angst nodded.
“What have you done? I can’t leave. My wife, she won’t tolerate this... My work...I can’t waste my time on some silly trip!”
“You hate your job, you hate your marriage. I can’t think of anyone who needs a break from their life more than you,” Angst pointed out. “In two nights, there’s a reception. You need to be there. In three days, we leave, and you are riding out with us, whether you like it or not.” Angst stood and stomped out of the library.
Angst was fed up with his friends, and so lost in frustration he didn’t notice Rose standing directly in front of him until he bumped into her. He jumped back. “Whoa, I’m sorry.”
“Now you’re so old your eyes are going bad too?” she said with a laugh. Rose wore her simple gray server uniform, her long red hair pulled back tight.
“Sorry, Rose. My day isn’t going very well,” he started with a sigh, grateful to finally speak with someone who would understand. “The queen is sending me on a mission to Rohjek, and I just talked to the boys about going, but nobody wants to join me.”
“Well, at least one of us wants to go,” Rose said, a hint of hope in her voice.
“Really? Who did you talk to? Did Hector shake off his attitude?” It was the first good news Angst had heard about his friends.
Rose seemed quite pleased. “No, Angst. Me. I’m the one who’s excited to go.”
Angst stared at her, slack jawed. “You?”
“I’m going with,” she declared.
“Rose, no. I’m sorry, you can’t.” Angst shook his head. Things had gotten worse. “I would love you to be there, but it’s dangerous. If you were... No, I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“But you guys need me. You know I can handle myself.” Her face plainly showed her disappointment. “You can’t just leave me here for a month.”
Angst attempted to reason with her. “Rose, it’s not only very dangerous, it’s traveling. You told me you hate to travel. You’ve never even come with us on our camping trips.”
“I hate it that you remember everything I say,” she grumbled under her breath. “This is different. I think you guys can really use my help.”
Angst sighed. This hurt more than any reaction he’d faced so far. Here was a friend who actually wanted to go, a friend whose company would keep him sane. But he refused to put her in danger. “No, you aren’t coming. I’m sorry, but you can’t.”
She looked like she was going to punch him in the mouth. Then her chin started to quiver and her large dark eyes became wet. She turned on her heel and walked away.
“Rose, I’m sorry,” Angst offered weakly, but she didn’t reply. He had never seen Rose cry, and it was crushing to think he could be the cause.
“I guess all that’s left is to go home and tell Heather about the trip then everyone can be angry with me,” Angst said to nobody. He looked around the hallway for just one smiling face, or even a glimpse of someone being amazed by Chryslaenor, but he found himself very alone.
12
“They say armor makes the man, but I’m not seeing that.” Teedle cleared his throat, barely holding back a chuckle. “It seems the standard set of battle armor just isn’t going to work for you, Angst.”
Even after lifting the visor, Angst had trouble seeing over the helm’s chin. When he spoke, it sounded like he was at the bottom of a well, and possibly drowning. “I thought armor was supposed to protect you.”
The blacksmith barked out a laugh and a muscular hand came down on Angst’s back hard, making him glad, for a brief moment, that the armor was there. Teedle was a short, square old man as wide with muscle as he was tall. The hair that should’ve been on his head had grown from his thick curly sideburns all the way to his chin. Teedle’s pale head was so bald it shone, and his wild eyes were hidden behind coal-blackened smudge marks like a mask.
“You wouldn’t think that if you saw the armor that comes back to my shop these days,” he cautioned, his raucous laughter quickly replaced by worry. “Let me put it this way. If I’m sent a piece of used leg armor, there’s usually a leg still in it. I don’t know what’s carving people up out there, but if I didn’t laugh, I’d go crazy.”
Angst had an itch between his shoulders that he wouldn’t have been able to reach under normal circumstances, no doubt caused by a trickle of sweat. The armor was bulky. Not to mention being made for six-foot-tall beasts who spent their lives training to lift it, use it, and fight in it. Angst wasn’t weak, but his body was the result of misguided attempts to balance exercise and cake. Battle armor was a full suit of heavy plate, and there was no way he could maneuver in it t
he way the sword seemed to want. He shifted his frame uncomfortably in the hope that something, anything, would bump the itch.
The blacksmith laughed again at the sight. Angst slowly moved the hinges near his knees, and wobbled his way around to face him, looking like a child playing in his father’s clothes. This was the second time in two days someone dressed him in armor and laughed — it had to be a conspiracy. “I thought Tarness would be here by now. Have you seen him?”
“He was in last night. We did some minor alterations but everything seemed to fit,” Teedle replied. “Are you guys really going out there? I’ve heard some mighty awful stories.”
“That’s exactly why the queen is sending us,” Angst said proudly.
“That’s good, I guess,” Teedle said hesitantly, shaking his head. “But how am I supposed to have you armored up by tomorrow?
Angst shrugged, which wasn’t at all visible. As he lowered his shoulders the additional weight seemed to create a pinch in his back muscles, right next to the itch. He grunted in frustration. “Would you help get this stuff off me?”
They struggled for the next fifteen minutes, each piece coming off slower than the one before. Angst only fell over twice. “What do I do if I want to lift my arms over my head?”
“You don’t,” Teedle replied.
“What if I have to pee?”
“You don’t,” Teedle said again, “or you do, but I don’t suggest it.”
“How will I swing that beast of a sword?”
“You can’t, so quit asking,” Teedle said, cutting him off.
“This won’t work,” said Angst in exasperation. The queen demanded he have armor, and gave him no time to have it made. It was like she wanted him to look silly. Angst was beginning to get the idea that might just be her real mission.
Teedle shared his agitation. “I don’t see how we can do this without you looking the fool. There just isn’t time to make you something from scratch that would actually fit. Even if I could make armor your size, it wouldn’t allow you to do what you need to do with your, you know, stuff you do.” His head bobbed nervously, and he waved in the general direction of Chryslaenor.
“So, the queen demands traditional armor? By any means necessary?” Angst asked hopefully.
Teedle peered at him warily. “What exactly do you have in mind, Angst?”
Completely out of the armor, Angst mopped sweat from his forehead then itched his back against a nearby post. He raised an eyebrow mischievously and grinned. “Have no fears, my friend. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”
Angst returned with three people in tow. A dark-skinned overweight woman walked beside him carrying an overstuffed cloth bag. Another blacksmith followed them, appearing every bit as muscular as Teedle, though quite a bit younger. Behind the blacksmith was a long-faced Dallow, who carried a large book and a sour expression.
Dallow reached forward to shake Teedle’s hand. “Hi, I’m Dallow.”
Teedle met his grip and nodded.
“This is Raena.” Angst nodded respectfully in the direction of the woman.
Teedle smiled and bowed his head politely. “Ma’am.” He then turned to the third, “Aren’t you Shint? Didn’t you win last year’s shoeing contest?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Shint, pleased by the recognition. He, too, shook hands with Teedle.
Teedle looked each of them up and down before turning to face Angst. “What’s all this about?”
Angst nodded at Dallow, who gently set an enormous old book on a nearby stump that acted as both a chair and table. Dallow opened it to a page conveniently saved by his finger. Angst should’ve gone to Dallow first, but knew his friend was still upset about their pending trip. Eventually, though, he’d decided there was no choice—the man knew every book in that library, literally. It had only taken him a handful of minutes to find a history book with an armor design that could work for Angst.
The page was titled Armour of the Zyn’ight, and featured detailed diagrams of armor that looked quite different than modern battle plate. The book was old, and some would say the design appeared dated. But oddly enough, the first picture showed the seal of Unsel impressed onto the chest piece. Teedle’s eyes widened, and he shook his head in disbelief. When he glanced at Angst, his shoulders dropped.
“Angst, armor like this hasn’t been made in a thousand years or more. I’ve never even seen anything like it.” He flipped pages of the book to see guidelines and specifications that went well beyond the sword and board get-up of a normal soldier. Several of the pictures showed the wearer wielding staves, or bending in ways that normal armor didn’t allow. “I just don’t see how I’m going to make this in time.”
Shint touched Teedle’s arm and said, “If it won’t upset you too much, there is time.”
The muscular young blacksmith picked up a steel bracer from a nearby table and studied it for several minutes before setting it down. Donning his heavy blacksmith gloves, he used tongs to hold a flat piece of iron against an anvil. With his other hand, he pulled a steel mallet from his belt. Then, without heating up the iron, he preceded to pound on the steel. Teedle looked about ready to stop Shint and correct him for doing things out of order but stopped when Shint’s arms began to glow. The metal at the end of the tong turned bright red. It was quickly shaping into the gauntlet Shint had studied. In a matter of minutes, the young blacksmith had hammered out a gauntlet identical to the one lying on the table nearby.
“The magics,” Teedle whispered, visibly shaken.
Angst cleared his throat. “Teedle, Her Majesty did say ‘by any means necessary,’ right?”
Teedle nodded, staring in awe but slowly collecting himself. “So, if you can do all that, whatdoyaneedmefor?” His words ran together, and he sounded a little upset.
“Sir, I’ve never made armor before. I may be able to make simple things quickly, but I have none of your knowledge or expertise,” Shint said in an incredibly respectful tone. “I can’t do this alone.”
“All right then,” Teedle said begrudgingly. “But how on Ehrde are we to make sense of all...that?” He began reviewing the book again.
“I understand almost all of it, but I have no means of applying what I know,” stated Dallow. His voice was somber, and he still refused to make eye contact with Angst.
“Fine, okay, all right. So we may know how, and we may be able to do this fast enough, but these measurements would require an engineer.” Teedle was obviously looking for an escape.
Angst nodded at Raena.
“I am the personal seamstress of her Royal Majesty, the Princess Victoria,” said Raena in a sharp, high-pitched tone. She waited for the awe to subside, though everyone merely nodded courteously.
“The Princess Victoria, for some reason,” she paused and glanced at Angst, “has asked, as a personal favor, that I assist in the fitting of this...armor.”
Shint and Teedle exchanged shrugs and a questioning glance before the older man spoke.
“We’re not sewing the armor, ma’am,” Teedle said.
Shint covered his mouth, failing to hold back a chuckle.
Angst coughed politely. “Raena is the absolute best seamstress in all of the court, and without a doubt, the reason the royal princess always appears so radiant.”
Raena accepted this as her due and couldn’t help but smile.
“This armor is different than anything you’ve ever made. Dallow explained that it should allow for the movement I need, that this armor was actually created for people who could do magic.” Angst pointed at places near joints and behind the legs. “It’s missing steel in certain spots to make it lighter, and seems to measure tight across the chest, but offer a lot of space around the shoulders.”
“But Angst, there’s so much unprotected,” Teedle observed.
“From what you tell me, my friend, there’s little to protect me from what’s out there anyway.” Angst let Teedle consider the heavy comment. “Can we do this?”
“Why not? Let’s
see if we can’t figure it out,” Teedle said, looking around at the odd group Angst had gathered.
The day, and night, were long, and frustrating, and tiresome, and inspiring. Angst arranged for food to be delivered throughout the project, so there was rarely a break. Arguments erupted between Shint and Teedle, or Teedle and Dallow, or Angst and all of them, but often Angst calmed everyone down with some story or a bit of nonsense that distracted from the argument, allowing the makeshift team to refocus.
Raena was commanding, and guided the other three in the specifics of what they were building. The inside of the suit had a unique padding of soft leather and cotton that supposedly allowed for absorption of some shock. She was every bit as efficient in measuring and sewing as Shint was at hammering.
Shint made many mistakes as he was more familiar with hammering out simple objects quickly, and nothing near the complexity this required. In the end, they found if Shint held the steel, concentrated on the picture, and let Teedle hammer out the armor, the pieces came together faster.
When the morning sun began to climb over the buildings, the armor appeared finished. But the last page of instructions left everyone bewildered.
“I just don’t get this. There’s a way of hardening the armor, making it many times more durable than it should be, but it requires a spell.” Dallow was tired enough that he didn’t stop himself from talking to Angst.
“Then, why don’t you just, um, do your thing?” a tired Teedle asked.
“Spells are more complex than the magic we cast,” Dallow explained, looking around the room. “What we do is simply what we know, maybe by accident or necessity. Spells are something that require training, and years of practice. It’s a deeper sort of mag—”
Angst touched Dallow’s arm lightly. “Let’s not worry about it right now. If you don’t mind, make a note of the spell for me and we’ll save it for later.”
Dallow shrugged, and yawned. “So aren’t you going to try it on?”
Angst Box Set 1 Page 9
