The Blacksmith

by Howe, Barbara;

  “Me? Folk come to me about their aches and pains, and don’t follow my advice about them. If they did, you’d eat more strawberries and peas and less shepherd’s pie.”

  “I eat whatever the women serve me,” I said, and finished the turnips.

  Hazel smiled. My heart did a flip-flop.

  Mildred eyed my clean plate. “And you’re going to strip our larder bare, you big ox. If you ate like that all the time you’d get as big as your Uncle Will.” She sighed. “It’s a crying shame he’s gone. He could’ve talked the duke into revoking that eviction notice. There’s nobody else that can.”

  I stopped with an oatcake halfway to my mouth, considered it a moment, and set it down. “There is somebody else that can.” I put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a little shake. “Somebody from Abertee—and by somebody I mean you—has to ask for the Fire Warlock’s help.”

  Cinders and Ashes

  Granny Mildred blinked at me. “Ask the Fire Warlock for help? Why?”

  “He can strong-arm the duke into doing the right thing by Doug and Jessie. It won’t help me but it’ll keep anybody else from getting hurt. Things will get worse—a lot worse—if they march on the duke. That’s what I told Walter when we went to the tavern the other night. Didn’t you hear the story I told him?”

  “I heard it from his wife, and she didn’t say anything about going to the Fire Warlock for help.”

  “What did you hear?”

  “That you shouted down the Fire Warlock, and lived. I didn’t believe it.”

  “Think I’m dead, do you?”

  “Nae, sonny. You’d be cinders and ashes.”

  “Fine. But I did talk to him.”

  “I didn’t believe that either. You’d better tell me the whole story. And tell it to me straight, you young scamp.”

  Telling the story took a long time. Even with her hand on my arm I had to stop twice—the first time, about Master Randall, and the second, about Glenn burning like a torch—and wait a while before I could go on. Knowing I’d lie awake all night reliving the riot didn’t help.

  When I got to the part about the river of fire, Mildred went white. “Well, laddie, you don’t look like cinders. Go on.”

  By the time I’d recounted yelling at the Fire Warlock, and what he said after, Mildred had her head in her hands, moaning, “Cinders. Ashes.” Hazel eyes were round and huge.

  “I am not cinders and ashes, or a ghost either. This is what I was telling Walter. The Fire Warlock is on our side. He promised to help if he can. If we don’t ask for help the end will be bad, real bad. If folks are riled enough to attack the duke, somebody has to ask for the Warlock’s help, before he turns Abertee into cinders and ashes.” I glared at Mildred. “I can’t, not anymore, and if Walter won’t, well, then you’re going to have to.”

  “Me? Are you out of your mind? I’ve got enough sense to be scared of the Fire Warlock, unlike some fools.”

  Hazel patted her hand, and the wild look went out of Mildred’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Duncan, but neither Mildred nor I can ask for his help.”

  “Sure you can. You’re guild members.”

  “Yes, but the magic guilds have special rights. We answer to the Officeholders, not the duke, so our asking the Fire Warlock for help would be outside interference, and isn’t allowed. Otherwise, our Guild Council would have started advising us to ask for help centuries ago. Instead, a healer will get in trouble for telling a mundane what to do, since that’s outside interference, too.”

  “Frostbite!” I beat on the bed frame with my fists while I chewed on that. “Fine. After I leave here tonight—”

  “Forget it, sonny, you’re not going anywhere yet. You’re still shaky on your pins.”

  “Aye, but I can’t stay. You’ll get in trouble if they find me here, and I don’t want—”

  Hazel’s touch on my arm was as soothing as a good night’s sleep. “Helping the sick and injured, even convicted criminals, is the Earth Guild’s right. As long as you’re not fit to move, no one can come after you here, and no one will harass us for helping you, either. The Great Coven built a truce into both the Earth and Water Offices all those years ago, so the Water Guild won’t try.”

  Mildred said, “Rocks, lass, talk about spilling secrets. Better watch your tongue.”

  Hazel shrugged. “There’s no harm in telling that one. It isn’t much of a secret.”

  I said, “But the duke or the earl—”

  “Don’t worry about them,” Mildred said. “They’d get knocked back on their arses if they tried to come in the guildhall without our say-so. But once you’re well enough to move, forget it. We can’t protect you then. Nobody else in the Earth Guild can help either, unless you get hurt again.”

  “Fair enough.” I put my head down in my hands. If Walter hadn’t understood about going to the Fire Warlock for help, and Hazel and Mildred couldn’t tell him or go themselves, keeping the peace in Abertee was back in my lap. Me, a wanted man.

  I had to talk to Walter, but even without the danger of sneaking through town, I wouldn’t make it out the door. If Mildred and Hazel thought I wasn’t ready to go, they could knock me flat on my back and put me to sleep before I’d taken two steps. There was a way to talk to Walter, but I didn’t like it. Even with the Earth Guild’s rights, it would feel like shouting, Here I am, come arrest me. But if Abertee burned because I was a coward, I might as well turn myself in to the Water Guild.

  I straightened up. “Mildred, go get Walter out of bed and bring him here so I can talk to him, and—”

  Hazel’s freckles stood out against white skin. Mildred screeched, “Have you lost your mind? Of all the damn-fool idiotic ideas you’ve ever had, you imbecile, that has to be the worst, even worse than any your dad and granddad had.”

  She had a knack for making me feel ten years old instead of nearly thirty. I talked through clenched teeth. “Somebody has to go to the Fire Warlock.”

  Mildred put her hand to her head and moaned. Hazel said, “We can’t let anybody know you’re here. They may guess you are, but we can’t acknowledge it until after you’re gone.”

  “But you said I was protected here.”

  “You are, while the truce holds, but your only chance of evading capture is slipping away through an unwatched tunnel. If we let any mundane know you’re here, we break the truce, and the Water Guild will watch all the tunnels for you to leave.”

  “But she said—”

  “I know what I said, sonny,” Mildred snapped. “The duke’s men don’t know all the tunnels. If the Water Guild gets involved, they’ll watch with magic, and they’ll find them all, even the ones we’ve forgotten.”

  Ten years old, and an imbecile to boot, I felt like. “You’re not making sense. The Water Guild is already involved.”

  “They’re doing their damnedest not to be. When the duchess prods them, they’re busy looking for you anywhere but where you’re likely to be. But if we admit you’re here, they won’t have any choice. They’d have to come and set the triggers and wait for you to leave. Don’t you understand? They don’t want to catch you.”

  Hazel pushed my open jaw shut with a gentle finger. “Of course he doesn’t understand, Mildred. How many times has our guild told us not to talk about this with a mundane? Duncan, most of the witches and wizards in the Water Guild are decent people who don’t like what their Office orders them to do any more than we do. It wasn’t supposed to be this way; something has gone badly wrong with the Water Office.”

  “It’s broken, all right,” Mildred said. “All four guilds play these silly little games dancing around each other, trying like hell to avoid calling down the Frost Maiden’s full power. Nobody wants to see another good man frozen to death.”

  “Not even the Frost Maiden,” Hazel said. “But we’re not supposed to say so, because the Officeholders don’t want or
dinary people thinking they can flout the laws.”

  Mildred glared at me. “Did I call you a good man? I must be getting senile. Forget I said that.” She stood up. “I’m going to bed, laddie. You make me tired.”

  I pulled her back down. “You’re not going anywhere until we figure out how to make Walter go to the Fire Warlock.”

  “We’ll do that tomorrow.”

  “There’s no time. You said they were at the tavern tonight working them­selves up.”

  “They won’t march on the duke tonight. I know that lot. Jack Miller always works himself up into a fury until he pitches forward and falls asleep over his beer, and Billy Chandler can’t walk in a straight line after he’s had two, and he’s so upset he’s probably on his fifth by now. No, that lot’s not going anywhere tonight.”

  “Do you know that because you’re a witch, or are you just guessing because you know your neighbours?”

  “I know my neighbours. That’s not guessing.”

  “Mildred’s right. There’s time.” Hazel eyes were closed and she was frowning. Mildred turned and stared at her. I stared, too, but I’d been doing that all along.

  Hazel opened her eyes. “They’re too drunk to go anywhere except home to bed, and most will have trouble getting that far.”

  My jaw hung open again. I closed it. “You can tell that from here?” She nodded.

  Mildred said, “Huh! I was hoping you’d be as good as Mother Brenda in Edinburgh. Looks like you’re better than.”

  Hazel’s freckles disappeared under a wave of red. I said, “How do you know all that? Can you read minds?”

  “Of course not. I read physical clues like their heart rates and the amount of alcohol they’ve drunk. Tonight, that’s enough to tell me they aren’t going far. I don’t need to know what they’re thinking.” Her freckles were coming back. What would it take to make them disappear again? Not that I would be such a cad as to try.

  “Good,” I said. “I’m glad you don’t know what I’m thinking.”

  Mildred whacked me on the arm. “She doesn’t have to be an earth witch to know that, sonny. At least you stare at her mouth as much as you stare at her bosom.”

  I gave Mildred the gimlet eye. “There isn’t anything about her that isn’t worth staring at.”

  Hazel’s freckles disappeared again. Mildred cackled. “You’re going to have to work on that, lass. I’d almost think you were a fire witch, blushing like that.” She yawned, and stood, one hand pressed to the small of her back. “Time we were all in bed.”

  I yawned. Yawned again. “I bet you tell your grandchildren to put on sweaters when you get cold.”

  “Great-grandchildren now. Of course I do. What kind of a granny do you take me for?”

  Hazel moved the tray off the bed, but didn’t follow Mildred out. “Lie down, and let me check that you’re healing properly.”

  My eyes were already half-closed, and I’d been awake less than two hours. “If you’re using magic to heal me, why am I so tired?”

  Hazel said, “The magic encourages your body to heal, but you’re doing most of it yourself. If we had to do it all, Mildred and I both would be abed for a week, after last night.”

  “Sorry, ma’am.”

  “Not your fault.”

  Everywhere she touched me I felt great. Mildred had never made me feel this good. She said, “I’m giving you more magic than you need to finish healing. This will help you stay healthy, and, if I do this a couple more times before you leave, will sustain you for about a month even if you don’t get enough to eat.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate it, every little bit.”

  “I’ve been racking my brains for other ways to help. When you were a child, did you ever play games pretending to be animals?”

  “Oh, aye. Why?”

  “What kind of animals?”

  She looked dead serious, and worried. I scratched my chin. “Doug was a ram sometimes, or a stag. He tried being a fox a few times, but was too big to be good at it. I was usually a boar. Why?”

  “Have you ever been tested for magical talent? You have affinities for both the Fire and Earth Guilds, don’t you?”

  “Sure. I could have been a halfpenny wizard in either. Most smiths have a little of one or the other.”

  “You’ve worked out a route to take, but have you given any thought to avoiding attention?”

  “I have, and ice me if I can see how. I’m so big I always get noticed.”

  “You attract magical attention, too. Because you straddle the guilds, your magical signature, while weak, is unusual.”

  “My what?”

  “The way you look to a witch or wizard searching for you by magic.” She picked up the tray and gave me a long look. “Maybe there’s a way to disguise it. We’ll talk more about it in the morning.”

  The sun slanting in the window hit the other wall halfway up. Mid-morning. I rolled, and banged an elbow. Reaching out with just one arm, I could touch both walls. The grannies might not be in danger, but I had to leave—if I spent much time in this wee room, I’d go barking mad.

  I swung my feet over and stopped, half off the bed. My coat, hat, and saddlebags lay in a muddy heap in the corner, next to the chamber pot. I blinked, and saw Charcoal. When Hazel came in, carrying a tray, I said, “How did you…,” and choked up.

  “The knacker found them. That’s all you need to know. I’ll clean them later.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” I said, around a bite of warm bread and jam. “For that, and for ordering me to sleep last night. I wouldn’t have slept well without it, for all the troubles on my mind.”

  She sat on the stool, knee to knee with me, and pumped more magic into me while I ate, until I felt like I could run from there to Blacksburg.

  “Mildred’s gone looking for news,” she said, “and to talk to Master Walter. You’re healing quickly. You’ll be well enough to leave tonight, after moonrise.”

  Kick me in the gut, why don’t you? I set the bread down. Chewing somehow had become hard work.

  She laid a hand on my arm. “Eat. You may not get another good meal for a long time after you leave here.” I chewed. She looked down, playing with the hem of her apron. “I’ve been thinking about what you said, about pretending to be a boar. Maybe you can use the fourth magic to make you appear to be one. That will mask your signature, and as long as you stay deep in the woods everyone short of a hunting party will avoid you.”

  I stared at her, holding a jug of milk in mid-air. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m sorry, but we don’t have time for me to explain the theory. Do you know anything about either shapeshifting or mindwarping?”

  “Nae.”

  She said, “There are two ways to become an animal. The one that most people know about is shapeshifting, where your body transforms but you have a human mind.”

  An otter stood on the chair where she had been sitting, leaning with its front paws on my knees, and twitching its cute little nose at me. “Like so,” said Hazel’s voice.

  I spilled milk across the bed.

  “Sorry,” we both said, and she was herself again, helping me mop up.

  “Do that again. I promise not to run screaming out of the room.”

  “Not now. Shapeshifting takes a lot of power, and only a handful of level five witches and wizards can do it. I can’t help you do that. What I can help you with is mindwarping, which is a lot easier. Your body stays the same, but your mind becomes like that of the animal. If done right, your altered image of yourself projects out to other creatures who see that image instead of the body you really have.”

  The lass holding the jug disappeared, and a giant otter, holding the jug, took her place. I turned into a blithering idiot and backed into the corner.

  The otter disappeared, and Hazel came b
ack. “I know I’m going much too fast, but this is the only thing I could think of, and we don’t have much time.”

  “You’re saying you can make me look like a boar. Ma’am, you’re giving me the willies.”

  “I’m sorry. Are you willing to try?”

  “If it will keep them from tracking me down, aye.”

  “Then let’s see if you can do it with my help. If I guide you through it a few times, then after you leave you can do it on your own. I’m hoping, anyway.”

  She sat with her knees against mine, and her little hands in my big paws. I didn’t mind that part, not a bit.

  “Close your eyes and think about being a boar. What would you experience?”

  “I’d have the smell of people in my nose, and nothing would look right.” Out on the street, a wagon clattered past. “God, we’re a noisy lot.” I felt like I was standing on a cliff with her pushing. Nothing happened.

  “You’re thinking too hard. Stop thinking. Feel. How would you feel, right now, if you were a boar?”

  “Trapped.” Feeling that didn’t take any effort. I was angry, too, and scared. She pushed me over the cliff and I fell down. Human stink slapped me in the face. I opened my eyes and huffed. The little otter with its paws on my hooves didn’t bother me, but I had to get away from this human cage. I jerked up, pulling my hooves away, and was a man again. My head spun. I flailed and crashed onto the bed.

  Hazel smiled. “Excellent. Let’s do it again.”

  We held hands again, and closed our eyes, but I was unsettled, and couldn’t calm down. Her smell was in my nose, and she smelled better than honey cakes, or Jessie’s roses. I peeked. Her face was inches from mine, her eyes closed, her mouth open a little. I closed my eyes, but she was still there. I was on a different cliff this time, one I’d seen other men walk off of, but never gotten near myself.

  I leaned forward. She tasted better than honey cakes, too. For a moment I was lost, but then she pulled away.