The Bladesmith

by Melinda Hammond

  'Good, then let us adjourn to the great hall. I have ordered the candles to be lit there.'

  As everyone moved towards the door, John found Katherine at his side. She looked up at him, her grey eyes dark and angry, like unpolished steel.

  'It seems to be a tradesman here is to presume too much,' he said lightly.

  'To me it is more the nature of your trade.' Her lip curled. 'You are no more than a dealer in death.'

  He felt her scorn like a physical blow, but before he could reply they were separated by the chattering crowd. John set his jaw and moved on. The great hall had been cleared, the long table carried to one side of the room and the carpets taken up. Dozens of candles burned in the wall sconces and in the chandeliers suspended from the high roof beams, making the room so bright that the guests blinked as they walked in from the semi-darkness of the screen passage.

  The combatants removed their coats and waistcoats, handing them to the hovering footmen. Several of the men muttered at the indelicacy of gentlemen appearing before the ladies clad in only shirt and breeches. The ladies giggled and hid their faces behind their fans, but peeped out nonetheless to watch the spectacle. Lord Warenford drew his own sword and handed it to John for inspection.

  'Regard it well, sir. I call it the Reaper. You will not find its like this side of London. It was handed down to me from my father, and it has seen much action.'

  John took the weapon and balanced it on his hand, letting it rock gently on his fingers. The blade was obviously much older than the hilt and basket guard, and the gleaming pommel was flattened and engraved with the Warenford crest.

  'A well-tempered blade,' he remarked, wiping away his finger marks before returning it to the earl. 'Of some antiquity, no doubt.'

  'It is. Passed down through the generations. It was last used in the '15.'

  John raised his brows. 'On which side?'

  Lord Warenford merely smiled and turned towards the servant who had just entered carrying a velvet bundle.

  'Here is your sword, Master Steel, chosen at random from those you have supplied. Let us see if your brother's blade is as good as my ancient one.'

  John took the weapon. That too was well-balanced. The guard and leather handle lacked the fine workmanship of the earl's sword but it was well crafted, and John noted with a thrill the wolf's head proudly incised on the blade. The candlelight flashed on the shining steel as he tried out a couple of passes.

  The excited chattering of the crowd fell to an expectant hush as the two men faced each other. The stone flags struck cold beneath John's stockinged feet, but his heeled shoes would not allow him the grip and agility he would need. His attention was caught by the diamond pin nestling amongst the lace beneath the earl's chin. It twinkled in the candlelight but John dragged his eyes away, knowing he could not afford to be distracted by such detail. He would need to be on his mettle in this context. The earl would give no quarter.

  'En garde.'

  John shook the ruffles back from his wrist and raised his sword. The two men circled warily, moving lightly as each man assessed his opponent. They took each other's measure, steel scraping on steel. Lord Warenford's lips curved as he observed John's concentration.

  'Smile, Master Steel. We must not frighten the ladies.'

  He struck. A flurry of thrusts and parries ensued as they both sought the advantage, yet the blades never moved more than a few inches from the centre line as each man kept his arm before his body in true defensive line. The earl made another lunge, John quickly deflected his blade and they both fell back.

  'Well done, Master Steel,' murmured the earl. 'A fine display for our guests.'

  Lord Warenford's sword came up and again the blades hissed together. There followed a series of swift, lethal strokes that had the crowd applauding with delight. Only Katherine stood mute, horrified. She alone saw the glitter of anger in the earl's eyes. She twisted the ruby on her finger. This was no mere display of prowess, there was real danger in his mood. He wanted to punish the man who had dared to admire his property. Lord Warenford's heavy sword flashed again but John was ready. He locked the blade and drove it around in a semicircle, turning aside the deadly point.

  'Oh, an excellent half-moon parry, sir!' cried a gentleman beside Katherine. 'That young man has been well taught.'

  'Aye, but we have seen too much,' declared Katherine. 'Enough, my lord!'

  As soon as she had uttered the cry, Katherine realised her mistake. To suggest Warenford might suffer an injury was to doubt his prowess. To show concern for his opponent would further arouse his jealousy. Either way she would lose.

  Katherine watched the earl attack his opponent with renewed energy. The carefully pomaded curls had come undone and his black hair escaped from the small bag at his neck. He made another deadly lunge that had her digging her nails into her palms, and she felt giddy with relief when the strike was parried. Grunts from both men indicated the intensity of the struggle. The earl's sword swept down, clashing with such force that John's blade shattered into myriad pieces. Warenford did not hesitate. He thrust again, aiming for the heart. Straightening, and with the shattered sword still in his hand, John turned aside, but not before the deadly blade had pierced his shirt.

  A gasp went up from the crowd as a red stain began to spread over John's shirt. Katherine dashed forward and put herself between the two men. Her eyes blazed as she faced the earl.

  'A fine display, my lord!' Her voice was full of scorn. 'You have proved yourself finely, have you not?

  Lord Warenford lowered his blade, panting. 'Madam, if you want to aid me, look to my cousin.'

  Glancing round, Kate saw that Mistress Skelton had fainted and was being fanned and fussed over by a group of ladies.

  'She is being attended,' she retorted. 'My concern, as your future wife, is to see that your reputation as a host is untarnished. Killing our guests will not help.'

  Lord Warenford glared at her. He was breathing heavily but the red light had gone from his eyes. Katherine swept about and took John's arm.

  'Come sir, I will tend to you in the library. My lord, pray instruct Master Steel's man to join us there – and order water and bandages to be brought immediately.'

  John held back. 'Madam, it is no more than a scratch … '

  She cut him short. 'We are noted in this area for our hospitality.' She added, throwing another, angry glance back at the earl, 'I vow you shall not find us wanting.'

  Katherine's voice shook with suppressed anger and John did not persist, but meekly accompanied her to a small book-room at the back of the house, where one footman was already busy lighting more candles and a second came hurrying in with a basin of water and a pile of cloths over his arm.

  'Put the water down there and give me the cloth. Thank you, you may go now, and send Master Steel's man here with some fresh clothes for him.'

  When the servants had withdrawn she turned to John.

  'Take off your shirt.' His hesitation drew an exasperated sigh from the lady. 'For pity's sake, do you think I have not seen a man's body before?'

  She helped him to remove the stained shirt then set to work with a damp cloth to clean the blood from his body.

  'Thankfully it is but a flesh wound, the blade glanced off your ribs,' she told him. 'You will be sore for a few days, but hopefully nothing more.'

  'Why are you doing this, madam?'

  She did not look up from her ministrations.

  'Because it is my fault it happened. I warned you the earl has a jealous temper.'

  'Then why are you here now, alone with me? Surely that will only enrage him more?'

  She folded a pad of clean cloth and held it over the wound, bidding him hold it in place. Her anger appeared to have subsided, and she responded with a spark of humour.

  'Having bested you, I doubt my lord considers you to be a threat any longer. Raise your free arm, sir, that I may bind that pad into place.'

  She stepped close to wrap the bandage about his ribs, reachi
ng around him to pass the strip of cloth from one hand to the other. For John the temptation was too great. With his free hand he caught her around the waist and pulled her close.

  Kate looked up to protest and found herself being ruthlessly kissed. The sensation of being trapped against a man's bare chest sent her pulse racing and rendered her unable to think, only able to feel. The excitement surging through her own body at the awareness of the strength of the man, the bone and muscle that bound her to him. She breathed in the unfamiliar smell of the man, the mix of leather and spices and something very, very male. It was deliciously bewildering. Intoxicating. And she was powerless to resist.

  By the time she realised this, John had released her, and was grinning broadly at her dazed look.

  'Well, you did not slap my face, at all events.'

  With an effort she dragged her eyes away from that handsome face.

  'I - I have to finish binding your cut.'

  'And when that is done may I kiss you again?'

  'No!' Her cheeks flamed but she did not look up. 'I am to marry Lord Warenford. Besides, I despise you!'

  'How can you say that?'

  The laughter in his voice was like a feather on her skin. She tingled with excitement and had to fight to damp it down.

  'Besides,' he went on, 'You know nothing of me.'

  'I know that you sell arms. You equip men with weapons that they may kill one another.'

  'I prefer to say that my family makes swords, so that men may defend themselves and all they hold dear.' He lowered his voice, his next words like honey on her disordered senses. 'And if you were mine I would hold you very dear.'

  She could not prevent her lips curving into a smile. 'Are you never serious, Master Steel?'

  There was an urgent knock on the door and Matthew appeared, carrying a richly embroidered dressing down.

  'I have brought your banyan, sir. I thought you might need it. Is there anything I can do?'

  Katherine finished securing the bandage and stepped back, not entirely sorry that their tête à tête was over.

  'Please take your master away and put him to bed.' She looked up at the sound of a heavy tread in the corridor. Her brother appeared in the doorway. 'Henry. Have you been dispatched to find me?'

  'Our carriage is at the door, Sister. Lord Warenford awaits us in the great hall.'

  'Then I will come directly.'

  She turned back to John. Matthew had helped him into his dressing gown and Katherine was thankful that she could not be further distracted by the sight of his broad chest and muscled shoulders. She forced herself to meet his glance.

  'Goodnight, Master Steel. I wish you a safe journey tomorrow, although I fear it will be a painful one.'

  The sharp blue eyes glinted at her.

  'I promise you, madam. I shall be back.'

  CHAPTER SIX

  'What the devil did he mean by that?' demanded Henry as he escorted his sister to the great hall.

  Katherine spread her hands. 'I have no idea. The man is obviously in his cups, which makes this whole sorry episode even more disgraceful.'

  She hurried on ahead of her brother into the great hall and when she saw Lord Warenford she walked directly up to him and straight into the attack.

  'Well, my lord, have you recovered your temper now? I have done my best to patch up your guest.' He caught her hands and stared down at her. She met his hard gaze unflinchingly, a rueful twinkle in her own. She was aware of Henry moving away, muttering that he must speak to the coachman, and she said softly, 'Andrew, when did it become a capital offence for a man to engage in a drawing room flirtation?'

  The earl relaxed. 'When the lady in question is mine. Why did you encourage him, my dear?'

  'You had asked me to entertain him, and it was such a dull party. Besides, he was there, and you, my lord, were not!'

  'Touché, my love!' He laughed and drew her into his arms. 'But if you miss my company so much, let us be married immediately. You would see so much more of me then.'

  Kate put her hands on his chest. 'Soon, Andrew. You know I want my father well enough to attend the wedding.'

  'Aye. It is important that everyone sees he gives his blessing to our union. If it were not for that, I would wed you this minute. By God, you looked magnificent this evening, Katherine! We shall make a handsome couple, my dear.' He kissed her. 'Very well, I will be patient for a little longer. Ah Henry, is your carriage ready? Take her home now!'

  She allowed the earl to kiss her again before going off on her brother's arm, but she was disappointed that the earl's touch roused none of the sensations she had felt when being kissed by the despicable John Steel.

  'Well, will you tell me what happened?' demanded Matthew.

  They had reached the seclusion of the guest bedchamber but John knew he would not be allowed to rest until he had given his manservant a full account of events. When he had finished, Matthew fixed him with his penetrating gaze.

  'If Mistress Kate is going to marry Lord Warenford, why were you kissing her when I came to find you?'

  John gave him an innocent look. 'I could not help myself.'

  'Neither could she, from what I saw.'

  'Matthew, I won't have a word spoken against the lady. She is an angel.'

  Matthew looked sceptical.

  'If she loves Warenford – '

  'She does not.'

  'Oh? She has told you as much, I suppose.'

  'No, but it is true, all the same.'

  Matthew shook his head. 'Have a care, Master John. There's more afoot here than a game of hearts.'

  'I know it, Matty, and I intend to find out what it is.'

  He did not say more, and his servant spent a restless night wondering what his master would do next. He was considerably relieved to find they were to leave the Keep the following morning as planned. Davis the steward brought their horses to the door and Lord Warenford appeared to see them off. He made an elegant bow.

  'I trust your wound will not cause you too much discomfort on the journey, Master Steel.' The earl's smile gave the lie to his words. 'Your sword really was no match for my blade, but it performed well enough, better than most, may I say. If the rest of the consignment are as good you will have no complaint from me.'

  'The order is complete: our business is done, Lord Warenford.'

  The smile did not waver at this cold response.

  'Indeed it is, Master Steel. If we meet again there will be no obligation, on either side.'

  'I am well pleased to be out of that place,' declared Matthew as they rode away from the Keep. He glanced over his shoulder, half expecting to see a group of soldiers galloping after them. 'I fear they are not the King's men, Master John, for all that steward tried to spin me a line that the swords are for defence. There's too many for that, even if they was to teach every heifer in these pastures to fight.'

  'I agree with you, Matty. A man doesn't buy that many swords unless he is equipping an army. In this case a Stuart army, I fear.'

  'Your Aunt Crewe would not like that, Master John.'

  'No more do I.'

  'What are we going to do?'

  'Well, first of all,' said John, putting one hand on his side and easing himself in the saddle, 'First of all I am going to get me a new sword.'

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The journey back to Shotley Bridge was slow, for the cut on John's ribs was to the bone and riding at speed too painful to be borne. Matthew insisted they stop frequently for John to rest but even so, when they reached the forge Wolfgang took one look at his brother's white face, threw down his hammer and ran out to him. Matthew explained what had happened while Wolf led the horse up to the house, where he dragged John from the saddle and half-carried him upstairs.

  'Wolf, Wolf, I am not dying!' gasped John, wincing as his brother's huge paw touched his side. 'I am well able to walk. 'Tis only a scratch, although it hurts like the devil.'

  'Aye it would,' growled Wolf as he helped John out of his coat and inspec
ted the wound. 'Why did you not stay until you were better?'

  'Damned awkward, Wolf. I was staying with Lord Warenford.'

  'Well, what of it? Surely, he could put you up for a few more nights. It would be any Christian's duty to do so.'

  John's eyes gleamed. 'Since it was he who made the cut I did not like to ask him.'

  'What? God bless us, John, what have you been about?'

  'Warenford wanted to try out your swords, so I took him on. The man has a fine old blade, well-tempered and tried in battle.' John was silent for a long moment, remembering. 'He shattered my blade, Wolf.'

  'The devil he did!'

  'The Warenford Reaper is a legend in the area. Nothing can match it. Yet.'

  Wolfgang was not listening.

  'Well, thank the lord he paid us before you took it into your head to show off.'

  John blinked, opened his mouth to protest but shut it again. However, he was not so reticent at dinner when his brother repeated the remark.

  'Ignore Wolf's rantings, Grossvater,' John addressed his grandfather. 'I had no desire to strut like a dunghill cock, I assure you.'

  Peter Stahl poured more wine for himself.

  'Well,' he said, 'the order is delivered and the account settled. Nothing can change that now.'

  Wolf shook his head. 'But how does it look for you to be fighting with such a man? He is a customer, John. We cannot afford to offend our customers.'

  'It was never my plan to cross swords with him, Wolf. In fact, I tried to get out of it.'

  'Well you should have tried harder, little brother. By Heaven, I should have known better than to entrust you with this task!'

  John found his sister-in-law's eyes upon him and a glance of understanding passed between them. Maria knew as well as he that Wolf's concern for his younger brother always manifested itself in reproach. She turned the subject.

  'We have had a letter from your Aunt Crewe, John. She is anxious for you to return to her. She is worried that the Pretender will move south.'