Emich didn’t spend much of his time on armor. It would be a challenge to forge plating that was thin enough not to weigh down a dragon in flight yet strong enough deflect oncoming attacks. Outside of that, he couldn’t imagine how to design something Rubrecht could put on without assistance in dragon form.
He grit his teeth. Memories of the man taking advantage of his father filled his thoughts. Rubrecht wasn’t someone to be trifled with, but he intended to command control of this horrible deal. “I will make the chest armor and tail weapon for two florins. You may come back in six weeks.”
Emich reached out his hand to shake on the deal, but Rubrecht made a face and roared, “Two florins! It should only cost only one gold piece for such an order!”
Emich held his ground. “You have no one else to go to. You said so yourself.”
“Fine!” Rubrecht rose from his seat at the table with clenched fists. “But I require it to be ready in four weeks, not six as you say.”
“I need more time.” Emich shook his head, unsure if he’d be able to deliver the quality product the man would expect in such a tight turnaround. But he knew how Rubrecht liked changing the terms to be in his favor. If he allowed the short production timeframe, maybe Rubrecht would be appeased.
Emich glanced toward the kitchen doorway. He had no idea how he could forge dragon armor with Morgen around without her suspecting something was amiss.
“I recall your father being awfully protective of his place on this mountain. Wouldn’t let me have fun with the weak fools living in the valley.” A mischievous grin slid across Rubrecht’s lips. His eyes narrowed and were filled with spite. “You can expect me back in four weeks. I might just have to find a means of entertainment if my order is not ready. I am fond of flesh. It has so many uses—men to tear through, animals to sate my hunger and women to bed with.”
A shadow stretched across the floor from the kitchen doorway. Emich looked up to find Morgen wearing a frown.
“I wondered where you had gone,” she said uncertainly. It was clear she was questioning whether it was safe to enter and remained a stride away from the threshold.
“Well, well. Who is this?” Rubrecht muttered. “Is she yours?”
“Ja,” Emich answered quickly. He hadn’t wanted the man to lay eyes on her, but it was too late now. The hungry way Rubrecht looked at her and the way he sneered ignited protectiveness the likes Emich of which had never felt before.
Morgen looked to Emich. He sighed and gestured for her to come in. She did so slowly.
“Morgen, this is Herr Rubrecht. He has come for armor, but he will be leaving at first light so I may begin working on his order.”
She nodded. “Hallo.”
He noticed that she did not offer a hand or a smile to the stranger. She stood near Emich, continuing to glance his way. He sensed her searching for feedback from him, a sign to indicate how she should feel about the imposing man standing in the kitchen.
Rubrecht stared at him. “I can see why you are eager to be rid of me, you want to keep her to yourself.”
Emich took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Is there anything I can get for you? I should not leave my forge unattended.”
“So long as there is something more…satisfying for dinner, I will be fine. Though it would be my pleasure to snatch up a goat.”
Morgen’s brows furrowed as she looked past Emich to Rubrecht. Emich shook his head with certainty. “Again, that will not be necessary.”
“Very well. Then I may bathe in your lake.” Rubrecht paused, and his eyes went to Morgen. “Would you care to scrub my back? There is a spot I cannot reach on my own.”
Without hesitation Emich interjected, “She is needed in the workshop, though I can offer you soap and a rag for that.”
He went to the other side of the hall to the stone basin, collected the items Rubrecht would need and set them on the side of the dining table. Morgen had already moved to the threshold in anticipation of their departure from the home. Emich stepped outside and called to the unwanted visitor, “We will return before long. I will take your measurements tonight.”
The entire walk across the lawn to the workshop, he felt Morgen’s eyes on him. He walked even faster to deliver them to the privacy of the darkened space. Once they were safe inside, her questions sprang forth.
“I thought you were not keen on visitors?”
He sniffed and stoked the dark coals in the forge. “I am not.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Then why welcome such a man into your home?”
“It is not by choice,” he grumbled. “For your sake you best stay clear of him. If we keep him contented, he should leave without starting any trouble.”
Morgen leaned against the worktable. She traced her fingers over the heavy end of a hammer and raised a brow. “He seems no more brutish than any other scoundrel.”
Sparks flew at the end of his coal rake as he turned the buried hot embers. One of them landed on his skin, and he flicked it off. With his eyes on the fire, he muttered in response, “You are wrong about that. He is the worst kind of beast. Best to send him on his way without incident.”
14
Morgen glanced through the threshold at the man at the lake. He’d shed his clothes and waded in up to his knees. He was clearly confident and without shame of his body. He was just as fit as a man in his prime, though she thought him closer to the age of forty.
None of that mattered when considering the distasteful way he leered at her or the way he spoke to Emich, which made it all the more confusing. If Emich truly didn’t like him, she didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just send him away. Maybe he needed the money.
Another question lingered in her mind. “You know how to forge armor as well? I thought you a sword smith.”
“So many questions.” He jaw tightened while he grimaced at the fire. “I must have time to think.”
He appeared distracted and deeply troubled. This was a concerning thought to her. If Emich considered the man a threat, she agreed it would be best for him to leave as soon as possible. She wasn’t sure if she would be able to get Emich to open up more, but he was getting irritable. It was clear he held many secrets, secrets he might not be comfortable sharing while they had company.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
Emich set aside the coal rake, rubbed his temples with his fingers and groaned. “We must feed him well tonight so he does not see fit to plunder livestock down the mountainside. Or anything else for that matter.”
She thought of the dragons that he claimed lived beyond his meadow, wondering if the beasts could dispatch such a thief, but thought it unwise to bring it up when he seemed sensitive about the subject. Instead she suggested, “We have four sausages remaining. I could cook them up with some of the cabbage from the garden and make some bread with the grain.”
“Save a sausage for his morning meal, before we send him off.” Emich suddenly looked to the forge and his voice rose. “Where is the billet of steel I left here? It cannot be wasted.”
“I thought it best to remove it from the heat until you were ready. I left it just here.” Morgen walked over to the side of the forge and pointed to the dark metal sitting on the rock surface.
He sighed and shook his head. “I will be much relieved when four weeks have passed and the deal is done.”
“I could go begin the preparations for dinner,” she offered.
“Nein.” He shook his head. “Not without me by your side.”
This was not the first time he’d stepped in to try to protect her, something she was very much aware of. She couldn’t understand what drove him to do so beyond kindness, because he did not strike her as the chivalrous type. When she was in the village with her father, Emich had interrupted her conversation with the brothel manager to make what she considered a begrudging offer for lodging. She got the feeling he thought he’d saved her from prostitution, which couldn’t have been more wrong. At no point had she been te
mpted to step into the brothel for a bite to eat, and she had said so. She would have starved before shaming herself and her father in such a way.
“I am not a defenseless child, you know,” she said with fire on her tongue. “Do you think I am feebleminded enough to be tempted to prostitute myself for food or to fall prey to a libertine? I have not survived this long with only my father’s help.”
Emich looked at her, eyes wide. No words came to his lips, though he clearly struggled to find his voice. When he did, he stepped closer to her, grabbing hold of her arm, his breath touching her cheek. “It is clear to me you are no child, though you are stubborn enough to be. You may feel you do not need protecting, but that makes you naïve. Do you not see how men look at you—your hair, your eyes, your…breasts?”
“All blame falls to the woman, for she is the temptress, luring men from their righteous path,” she retorted and pulled free from his grasp. “I have heard it all before.”
“You are no more a wicked temptress than I am a demon using hell’s fire to forge my blades. The thought of anyone touching you—” He raked his fingers through his hair and groaned. “All I want to do is protect you.”
He stood less than an arm’s length away from her. The aggravation twisting in her heart evaporated. Another emotion replaced it entirely. Something she had never felt before, and it frightened her.
“The only available bed I have to offer Rubrecht is in your room, and it would not do for him to share with you,” he said softly, lifting his gaze to hers. “I would rest easier if you slept in my quarters tonight. I will find a place to prop myself in the kitchen.”
Morgen regretted snapping at him. Her temper and pride had got the better of her once more. She sought to make things right. “But that cannot be ideal. Will you not take my bed at least?”
“I would sleep too deeply in the cabinet, and I want to know of any movement he makes.”
All she could do was nod. For so long she’d had only her father to rely on. In a world where so many looked out for themselves, she’d grown used to protecting her heart when it came to attachments of any kind. Because of Tybalt’s line of work, they didn’t remain in any one place for long. Maybe she’d been too hard on Emich. Beyond his gruff exterior, he’d proven himself generous.
Over the course of the morning and afternoon, she did what she could without him having to ask. She stood by the billows, keeping a steady heat on the charcoal while his steel was brought back up to temperature. He pounded out the rectangular block of metal. It didn’t take long for her to realize it wasn’t taking the shape of a typical blade. She wondered if it was an arrow tip but didn’t want to ask. He was still broody and very much absorbed in his thoughts.
The sun was sinking in the western sky when he set aside his work and raked out the charcoal so it would lose its heat. He looked up at her and pulled off his apron. “Show me where this cabbage is, and I will give you a hand in the garden.”
Morgen reached up lift off her apron, but he shook his head, gesturing for her to stop.
“Nein, keep it on. It covers your…” He trailed off, and his cheeks flushed with color. He tilted his head down, and some of his blond locks dropped over his eyes.
She looked at her chest, realizing what he was referring to. The top of the apron concealed her flesh where the bodice of her dress did not. She cleared her throat, trying to conceal her own blush, and mumbled, “Come with me.”
They stepped out of the smoky confines of the workshop into the fresh mountain air and walked around the side of the home to the garden. The work she’d put into pruning the overgrown plants had helped, though the garden was still rough to look at.
Morgen squatted down beside the cabbage to rip off the dirty outer leaves, revealing their pale heads. Her hands went to her waist, searching for a utility knife, and she remembered she was without. She sensed movement beside her and looked up. Emich held his out to her, which she accepted readily.
He sniffed and glanced around. “I remember running up and down the length of the garden while my mother tended it. It seemed so big then.”
“You miss them,” she stated as she cut the cabbage from its roots and handed the leafy head up to him.
“More than I can say.” Emich held it in his sooty hands and shrugged. “Being alone has been a necessity, but the loneliness—it is like living a slow death.”
Morgen looked up into his downcast eyes. They shined blue like the alpine lakes filled with snowmelt, causing her to wonder what she might discover reflected in them. When he met her gaze, she found herself caught.
She broke free and handed the knife to him, standing up. “Maybe I should hold the veg—your hands are quite a sight. Those heads need cutting or they will go to seed.”
Morgen pointed to the cabbage in question, spurring Emich to action. He returned the picked cabbage head to her before retrieving the others. They went back around the house to the kitchen door, Morgen holding an armful of veg in her arms.
Once inside, she set them on the worktable and heard a voice from across the room. “I hope you plan on more than kraut for dinner. I could be back in no time at all, grabbing a sheep from the valley.”
Emich went to the hearth to start the fire and answered, “No need, no need. We have some tasty sausage for our meal.”
At the dark end of the room, Rubrecht sat back in a chair with his feet resting on the stone basin. He lifted an eyebrow. “I bet your father never showed you what fun it is to hunt, to crush the life from an animal with your powerful jaws.”
Morgen stopped chopping the cabbage, wondering if she’d heard him right. What kind of person killed an animal with their mouth? She began to understand why Emich seemed so anxious to get Rubrecht on his way.
Emich cast her a nervous glance before answering, “We set traps for hares, fished our lake and sometimes downed ibex and deer with a bow. Much of what we needed, we obtained in the village on our monthly visits.”
“How very docile of you.” Rubrecht sneered. “What would your grandfather have thought about that, I wonder? His offspring being so civilized. Too bad he died so young. If you do not teach your young how to fight to survive, they will share in your fate. I am sorry to say you may not make it to a ripe old age unless you change your ways. Not off to a good start.”
The tendons in Emich’s neck were pulled taut. He gripped the stones of the hearth, glaring into the fire. “And live like you? Terrorizing the people around you?”
“I like the sound of that,” Rubrecht said with a grin. “Ja. Live like the top predator you are. I can feel your power—I know your father gave you the gift. Come with me and I can fashion you in my likeness. I have everything one could want—wealth, mansions, power…women.”
Morgen didn’t understand half of what this man spoke of, but she knew it was wise to remain silent and avoid drawing attention to herself. She continued chopping the cabbage quietly so she could hear more of the conversation.
Only two strides away from her, Emich had turned around to face their visitor. The strained expression on his face eased, and she heard him take a deep breath before responding. “I only know a quiet life. The only thing I need is steel in my forge and a hammer in my hand.”
“Pity.” Rubrecht lifted the cup that he’d been cradling in his hands to his lips. “With a young fellow like you at my side, we could change the world.”
Who was this man? Morgen had been around many mining towns and even a few cities. She’d overheard her fair share of conversations amongst men, but she had never heard anyone speak of power in a way that made her believe their schemes were possible. The more she heard Rubrecht speak, the more she sensed a feral energy that frightened her.
She was relieved when their conversation turned to more banal subjects, and it seemed Emich was too. He remained near her as he spoke to their guest while she prepared dinner. Before long, the smells of the bread, cabbage and sausage filled the home. Though the fragrance had the aroma of safety and comfort,
she remained on edge.
When the meal was served, she made sure to offer Rubrecht a large portion, only keeping a small amount for herself and Emich. She would have gone without if she knew it ensured Rubrecht’s departure. She watched the feral man eat, slurping and gnawing away, losing more of her appetite, and she was glad she sat beside Emich.
The sounds from their meal quieted, and Morgen began to clean up. Emich took away Rubrecht’s empty bowl and walked to the darkened doorway that led into the room where she had been sleeping. “Let me first show you to your bed and then I will take your measurements. Morgen, get him a candle?”
She didn’t understand why Emich hadn’t simply taken the man’s measurements earlier, but she did as she was asked and found the curious scaly candleholder on the worktable and lit the wick in the hearth. Morgen hurried back with it. Rubrecht’s thick fingers wrapped around hers while he took it from her grasp.
He leaned in and his hot breath touched her neck. “Care to keep me warm tonight?”
Not having expected anything more than a few lascivious words, she was surprised when his free hand grabbed hold of her buttocks and squeezed. She twisted back and sucked in a quick breath. “I have other plans.”
Emich stepped between the two of them with his jaw clenched tight. His nostrils flared as he exhaled heavily. He put one hand on Rubrecht’s shoulder and the other gestured into the darkened room. She could hear the strain in his voice. “You can put your belongings just inside here.”
Morgen turned around to hurry into Emich’s private quarters, eager to get away. She didn’t want to see or hear Rubrecht any longer. The men’s muffled conversation died away, and she shut the door, breathing a sigh in relief. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she tried to collect herself.
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