by Sharon Gibbs
Christopher had watched as Athena walked over to her brother. ‘The boy isn’t here!’
‘So you speak the truth. Your surrender is accepted. The people of your village will remain unharmed,’ Arnak had said.
Arnak then had ordered his men to usher the people of The Dale out into a field just outside of the village. Families had gathered their sons from the line up. Rose and Albert had collected Christopher and when he was safely back with them, Rose had held him close. Christopher had been fearful and he’d clung to Rose as she’d carried him out into the field.
Surrounded by the army the people had waited. Some sat in the shade under trees while others stood around and had wondered what would happen after the Lord left.
The smell of smoke had drifted on the wind as the soldiers set fire to the village. The people rushed forward to see what had happened but the army blocked their passage and held them in the field. The people had been forced to wait anxiously as thick black smoke had poured from the village up into the sky.
The Lord and his army had ridden towards them and their wagons had been loaded with the valuables they’d collected.
‘As we agreed, your people have been left unharmed,’ Arnak had said and he’d ridden off with his army to leave the people of the village to save what little they could.
As they’d returned to the village they’d set to work. The majority of the town had been set ablaze, and although their lives had been spared their town had been decimated.
Christopher would remember the smell of the fires as they roared through the village and jumped from one building to the next. That was the first day the Lord had ruled their lives and from that day forward Arnak had ensconced a party of his men in the town to keep the people in line and govern the village. Over the next few months the people would have to work hard to provide shelter and food for everyone. Those who didn’t live in the village provided a safe haven for the homeless and so the village pulled together. After many years they’d managed to repair the village to a reasonable state but many of the buildings still bore the scars of that day.
Christopher shook away his memories of the past and collected the pot of tea his aunt had made. He headed out the back to begin his work for the day. Albert had already lit the forges and Christopher noticed their heat as he entered the workshop. His uncle had selected the steel for Kovak’s swords and Christopher placed the pot of tea over on the small table where his uncle’s cup stood.
Albert looked up and nodded to him. ‘Morning, Christopher. I want you to get started on these swords. Kovak Turr will no doubt be around this morning and question when they’ll be ready.’
Several pieces of steel had been placed on the bench where Christopher worked. Christopher inspected the steel which wasn’t of the highest grade that they’d normally use. Yes, the finished product would look the same, but the strength of the sword—although for a time would be fine—would contain faults and allow the metal to weaken and break easily.
‘Uncle this steel…’
‘It’s fine for Kovak Turr, Christopher. He doesn’t part easily with his coin and that is what his money buys,’ Albert said and then walked off and helped himself to a hot cup of tea.
This was a dangerous line his uncle was about to cross and Christopher couldn’t be sure why he’d chosen this point in time to put his foot down. He looked over to where his uncle usually worked and he saw two pieces of fine steel laid out on the bench. Christopher was sure they were both to work on the swords today, but maybe something else had been ordered. He didn’t want to question his uncle again and so began his own work. Christopher gathered his tools and checked the forge. He plunged the steel into its interior then he waited until the metal glowed a golden yellow before he lifted it out. He placed the hot piece on the anvil and used his hammer to draw the steel into shape.
The morning passed by and Rose brought them some lunch. She stayed briefly before she left them to eat. Albert and Christopher sat together and talked about the progress of the morning’s work while they ate. The swords they’d crafted had begun to take shape and the rough work was complete. Now twelve swords waited to be finished. It would still take two more weeks before they were ready to be delivered.
Captain Turr was in a rush for these swords and wanted to present some to his men before he left for Canameer. He was expected to go to Canameer every month and observe while the prisoner was led through the town. Three Captains were expected to attend this event. Over the years the regimented rule had slackened and they didn’t always have three, but since he’d not attended lately, he felt it was his duty to do so this month.
Christopher and his uncle had just finished their lunch and had returned to work as Kovak entered the building.
‘I’ve come to inspect your progress on the swords,’ Kovak said.
‘I’d a problem with the purchase of the steel, but they’ll be ready in time,’ Albert said.
‘Well I’d like to see the progress you’ve made so far.’
Albert picked up the rough sword he’d worked on—the one made from the fine steel—and carried it over for Kovak to inspect. Kovak Turr took it from the swordsmith. ‘This looks nothing like what I’ve asked for. What’s the meaning of this?’
‘Captain, what you hold in your hands is the raw steel. There are many other elements required to make a fine sword.’ Albert elaborated on what was required to finish it. He ranted on about the process and how other pieces had to be added before the steel was tempered. The Captain had had enough. He’d felt inferior to this man and the knowledge of his craft. Kovak Turr’s face reddened and Albert took the sword from his grasp.
‘Well, if you’re satisfied Captain, we need to get back to work or your swords won’t be completed on time,’ Albert said and he dismissed Kovak.
This further angered the Captain. ‘I see you have it well under control,’ he said. ‘So I’m sure you’ll be able to have them finished in a week.’
Albert’s heart sank. They’d have to work late every night to get them finished.
Christopher stopped his work. ‘No, Captain, they’ll not be finished in a week. We’ve other orders we need to complete.’ Anger flickered within Christopher as he stared at the Captain.
‘Boy, they’ll be finished within the week or the Lord will hear of your insolence in this matter.’
Christopher lay down his hammer. Sweat gleamed on his skin and it sizzled as he laid the sword in the heat of the forge and walked towards Kovak.
That was the last thing Albert wanted. To have the Lord and his Sorceress return to the village would mean punishment for all.
‘That’ll be fine, Captain. We need to be get back to it now,’ Albert said as he hurried Kovak out of the workshop and away from Christopher. Kovak was happy with himself. He’d yet again riled Christopher and he walked out of the shop. Albert stood in front of Christopher to stop him and he could see the anger in his eyes.
‘Hold your tongue and bide your time, Christopher. Our time will come, son,’ Albert said.
Christopher looked at his uncle and saw the worry that etched his face and he knew he wouldn’t follow the Captain. He returned to his work and pulled the steel from the forge. He placed it on the anvil and slammed his hammer hard into the steel to work out his frustration. Ever since Christopher’s first encounter with Kovak, the man had made it his mission to provoke Christopher at every turn.
Christopher had been fourteen at the time and Kovak had just arrived to take command of The Dale. Kovak was out in the village and had come across a young lad who’d shown him no respect. Kovak had tried to drag the boy off to punish him when Christopher had intervened and embarrassed the Captain in front of the stall owners in the market. Christopher had then whisked the boy away and had thought himself lucky that Kovak had only been in the village a short while and didn’t know who he was. That was until he’d come across Christopher at his uncle’s workshop. From that time forward, Kovak had made it his mission to rile and goad Ch
ristopher every time he saw him.
Christopher pounded the steel as he took his frustration out on the metal. He’d had enough of these men who lingered in their village. They’d never contributed to anyone and took what they wanted, when they wanted and said it was the people’s duty to the Lord. The sweat poured down his face and arms as he continued to pummel the steel until finally he thrust the sword back into the forge. He longed for a time when the people of the village could belong to themselves and for the oppression which hung in the air to be gone forever. Christopher looked over at his uncle. Albert had been watching him. He could feel the boy’s pain and saw the torment Christopher wrestled with.
‘Christopher, one day things will be different,’ he said. Christopher nodded and then returned to his work.
The day dawned bright on Sunday and Christopher rose from his bed and dressed for the day. His uncle was already up and ready to leave. Today was the day they’d finish the doors on Jimmy’s barn and Albert had already eaten his breakfast when Christopher came into the kitchen.
‘Are you off already?’ Christopher was surprised to find him ready to leave.
‘Yes, we need to get an early start and I hope to be back this afternoon to catch up on things in the workshop.’ Albert had felt bad after the incident with Kovak the other day. Christopher would have to work long hours to help him finish the swords in time.
‘Don’t worry. The swords will be finished before he comes back to collect them,’ Christopher said, but he knew to have all the work done in time, they’d have to work late every evening.
‘Well are you ready? We need to head off.’ Christopher stared at his uncle. ‘Don’t worry, the others will probably be on their way there, too,’ Albert said and then smiled.
Christopher didn’t know what to say and he quickly drank the rest of his tea and they left.
They travelled in the wagon, pulled by a single horse. Albert had his tools in the back along with some wood and the hinges that they’d need to fasten the doors to the barn. The metal rattled in the back as they travelled along the dusty road.
As they passed by the woodlands, if one knew where to look, there was a trail that led through the trees to a clearing that was nestled deep within. In this clearing were the training grounds. After Lord Arnak and his army had invaded, the men of the village had gathered together and decided as a group that they’d no longer sit by and let others decide their fate. They’d learn how to fight and defend themselves and so gradually they began.
Their progress was slow but their archery improved. Ben Osmol was a hunter and he taught the men how to use and make their own bow and arrows. They struggled with their training, until one day a man had come to their village. He’d been part of the garrison in Canameer and had left the town. There’d been no life for him under the new Lord’s rule and so he’d travelled from village to village to find a place to rebuild his life, a place where he could find a reason to rise every morning. He’d had little money and had gone to Albert’s smithing shop to see if he could sell the dagger he carried.
Robert Hurley’s last possession was the fine jewelled dagger. It’d been presented to him for his many years of service to the town of Canameer and he’d proudly worn it in a leather sheath attached to his belt. Now he wore the belt underneath his shirt to conceal it from anyone’s view. Robert was willing to sell the dagger to Albert for far less than it was worth because he was almost penniless and no longer had a home or job and he’d never had a family. Albert had refused to buy such a fine weapon from the man, but had offered him a place to stay until he could find work. Robert explained to Albert how he’d been part of the garrison in Canameer where his position had been trainer of the guards. Robert had been away on a visit with a friend when the army had invaded the town and when he’d returned he’d been badly beaten and thrown in a makeshift cell for several months. When he’d finally been released, he’d packed all his possessions and fled the town.
Albert was amazed. Robert was the person they needed, and when he spoke with the others in the village it was decided that they’d offer to pay what they could to Robert to become their trainer. Edgar Poe had given Robert a place to stay in one of the small huts his workers used at harvest. Quickly Robert had settled into life in the village and he could now call The Dale his home. Robert again had meaning in his life and it wasn’t long before the men of the village reaped the benefits of Robert’s instruction and their progress grew.
This had been the birth of the rebellion and soon every man in the village trained under Robert’s guidance. When the boys of the village turned ten they were brought into the fold and from that point on the Resistance grew. When Christopher and his friends came of age and were inducted by Robert, they benefited from the knowledge of those who’d come before them. They were taught to fight with swords, axes and knives and how to shoot a bow and arrow with accuracy while they learnt how to hunt and track prey. This had all been done in secret. If they were to be discovered they’d have been hung for treason. Albert had been pleased. He’d promised Henry that he’d see to the boy’s education in the Arts and now he could tell Henry that Christopher had begun to train.
When Albert and Christopher arrived at the barn the others were already there. From inside the barn they carried out the doors and placed them so the hinges could be fastened to their edges. After they’d exchanged greetings the men all worked together as the enormous doors were heavy. On the first door Albert and Jimmy fastened the middle of the metal hinges. Then they measured their position so they could secure the outer sections to the frame of the barn. It would take several men to hoist and hold the door while it was fastened into place.
Ben gathered the ropes needed to form a harness and then he and his sons fitted it around the door and made sure it was secure while Christopher and Peter climbed up into the loft. The main beam of the roof protruded from the front of the barn and Peter tied a rope around himself before he climbed outside and along the beam to fix the pulley into place. He then fed the ropes into position within the pulley’s mechanism.
Outside, Carl Poe and James Gala fastened another pulley to a beam on the outer edge of the barn, so the door would hang evenly when lifted. Everything was now in place and they were ready to lift the door into position. The boys heaved on the ropes as the men helped manoeuvre the door upright. Then they guided the door into place and when it was high enough they slotted the two hinge pieces together. Ben and Dray chocked pieces of lumber under the door to take the weight while Jimmy and Albert worked the pins through the slots and secured the two-hinged sections together. The top of the pin was bent at a ninety-degree angle so it wouldn’t slip through the hinge and fall out. They removed the wedges from under the door and eased the ropes to see how the hinges would bear the door’s weight. The door held.
‘That’s a mighty fine door there, Jimmy,’ Ben said.
Dray Winters laughed. ‘Yes I’m sure one door will be enough.’ Dray wasn’t used to this type of labour. He was a butcher by trade and this was a totally different thing for him and his boys. Over the last ten months, they’d all worked hard to help Jimmy build the barn and as Jimmy only had daughters, he’d claimed his friends’ sons as his own.
‘Hello everyone. Hello, Papa,’ Jimmy’s daughters called out as they walked towards the barn. Jimmy’s wife Roselyn had sent two of their daughters over to bring the men lunch. They each carried a basket. Gemima’s basket contained bread and cheese while the other held mugs and cold ale. Carrie struggled a little with the basket of drinks. Saul flew over to help Carrie. He’d been sweet on her for a while, and she blushed as he came to her aid.
‘Thank you, Saul, it’s quite heavy,’ she said, as he took the basket from her and they walked over to place the baskets in the shade under a tree. The girls came over to their Pa and he gave them a hug and thanked them for the lunch.
‘Oh Pa, the barn looks fabulous,’ Gemima said.
‘Come friends, let’s eat,’ Jimmy said and they gat
hered in the shade, while his daughters opened the baskets and passed around the mugs and food. The jugs of ale were opened and then the girls bid the men and their father farewell before they set off for home.
Jimmy had five daughters: the oldest was twenty while the youngest was only ten. Gemima had come into her eighteenth year and Carrie had turned sixteen just before the spring. This had been the main reason why Jimmy had built the new barn. When the grain and cotton had been harvested it would be stored in the barn at the house. Last year after the harvest, the soldiers had come to the house to collect the grain. Jimmy hadn’t liked the way the soldiers had looked at his girls and he’d heard the lurid comments they made amongst themselves. So with his friend’s help and the money he’d managed to squirrel away, he’d decided to build a new barn down at the far end of his lands. There’d be no further need for the soldiers to come to his home.
While everyone ate, Albert and Jimmy disappeared around the side of the barn. Not long passed before they re-emerged from inside the building and returned to finish their lunch. Christopher had taken notice of this mysterious occurrence, and after he’d eaten he asked Peter if he wanted to take a better look inside the barn. It was a fine barn, built from Barrobourgh wood. Joseph and his sons had chosen the planks with care, before they’d delivered them to Jimmy’s field. Christopher was amazed how one thing of beauty could be crafted into another totally different, but still amazing, object. The barn was a true credit to its builders, from the timber posts which held up the structure, to the rafters that soared high above their heads. At the far end of the barn a staircase had been built which led to a loft high above in the rafters. Peter and Christopher climbed the stairs and stood on the level above, where they’d a great view of all below them. Then Peter noticed a small door at the far end of the mezzanine.
