Sword of Ares

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Sword of Ares Page 21

by Alex Morgenstern


  “What? No. My father?”

  “Yes.”

  “Careful,” she said, handing it to Kassius with both hands.

  He stared and it and immediately closed his eyes.

  “Alana.”

  “What? Kassius, why are you crying?”

  “It has your name written on it.”

  “Oh,” she muttered, as if a knife had pierced her lungs and shortened her breath. Kassius returned it swiftly. She stared at it, it seemed like her father’s love and skill had forged that image, that illusion. Its radiance reflected love. Was that the special project he was working on?

  She pressed it against her chest and felt a tear slip down her cheek.

  “Let’s get to work,” she said, her voice cut through by the pain. “Kassius, help him. I will make the Sword of Ares.”

  She knelt next to the chest once again and noticed something familiar. She reached for it at the bottom of the chest and pulled it out.

  “What?” she stood up immediately. “What is the meaning of this?” She turned around and faced Fabyan with a frown.

  “Sorry, I had to use it!”

  Alana stared at what was now a partial dragon armour. Half of it was gone, and a big part of it deformed from heat.

  “I am sorry!” Fabyan said. “I needed steel!”

  Alana felt as if the imaginary stabs in her back multiplied. But no, she had been through things a million times worse. She stared at what the armor had been and realized the metal was of the best quality and pure. She could melt the scaly armor, merge it into one, and use it to make the sword. Yes, an honourable end for her father’s defaced armour.

  Without a word, she removed her cloak, revealing the strange sigils on her body, and placed the cloak on the furnace. She put the rest of the armor in the furnace and pressed the pedal to increase the heat and watched as it lightened to red. She got to work immediately, removing it with the pincers, first twisting it, then hammering the long piece, thinning out the side to make it ready to be put inside. Then, she hammered it again, flattening it until her arm felt like it was about to fall off.

  After hours of hammering, the shape was almost ideal. The twists inside had been flattened, and soon, she would put it outside in the dew to cool off. Then, Alana decided to prepare the handle and crucible. For the crucible, she selected from a bunch of small iron pieces. After heating them, she shaped them like an arch and then passed it through the fitting.

  Kassius and Fabyan worked on their own swords on the bigger anvil. Kassius was obviously not experienced at such an art, the hammering and the shaping was sloppy, and he routinely complained about the pain in his shoulders. However, his work would prove invaluable after Fabyan’s corrections.

  They concentrated so much on their work that the sunlight started shining through the curtains. Then, Alana’s stomach turned inside her, and she glanced at Kassius in panic.

  “Kasha, let’s get out of here.”

  He nodded, his face pale and his eyes wide open.

  Alana opened the curtains slightly and peered out. Cold frost covered the ground and the bushes below. She recoiled in fear as she saw soldiers already patrolling the streets. She let go of the curtain and stepped back.

  “We’ve got to get out quickly,” she said.

  Fabyan looked at them.

  “Yes. Thanks for the help, at least we have five swords cooling off now. Now it will be easier.”

  “We may come back tonight,” she said.

  “Tonight? I need to get some sleep!” Fabyan complained.

  “Well sleep now,” Alana suggested dryly.

  “They won’t let me. Need to keep working.”

  “Come on. We also need to come here tonight.”

  “Come tomorrow night. Give me a break today and then we’ll continue.”

  “We don’t have much time!” Alana grabbed her coat and put it on, pulling the hood down.

  “Ah… I forgot to ask you,” Fabyan said.

  “What?” Alana asked, uninterested.

  “Do you know anything about that boy they’re going to execute?”

  “What boy?” she shook her head. Those words together, boy and execution, sounded terrible.

  “The mute.”

  “What?” Alana’s heart jumped in horror. She paused. That had to be a mistake. Kassius was as pale as a ghost. He swallowed and remained with his mouth open.

  Suddenly, they heard a bang on the door. Alana and Kassius stared at each other, both pale and with heavy hearts.

  “Who is that?” Kassius whispered.

  “Quick. Hide,” Fabyan said. Alana reacted and rushed to the back room, where she used to sleep. The two small mattresses were still there, but now a pile of metal objects covered her old cozy bed.

  She quickly knelt and hid underneath. She peered outside, planning to invite Kassius to hide with her, but she realized they would probably not fit.

  Even more, her shadow was still visible from underneath.

  “I will hide behind the wall,” Kassius whispered and stood with his back next to the entrance.

  The banging on the main door grew louder.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming,” Fabyan said.

  Alana tried to hide under the bed, pressing her shoulders against the cold walls, and still trying to make sense of what she had just heard. Tor captured? Executed?

  And the door opened.

  “Good morning, sires,” Fabyan said. “Please come in. I have been waiting for you.”

  “Forgive us for coming this early,” said a deep voice. Also with an accent from the capital.

  “My workshop is at your service.”

  “Alright,” the voice said, and he wiped his boots on the carpet. Then, the man stepped inside, and Alana realized there was someone else with him. “My name is Cladius Duodecimus, Senator and part of the Commission for New Tharcia, and this is Governor Larius.”

  “Nice to see you again, my lords,” Fabyan said.

  “Do not call us lords, young man. You will soon be like us. We are equals,” responded the governor.

  Meanwhile, Alana was perplexed. The man who had ordered the murder of her village was standing a few feet from her. And what should she do? She imagined grabbing her knife, declaring justice, and attacking. Yes, facing him.

  “So, let us see how the production is going,” Cladius said, as the group moved into the workshop.

  “Yes, sire, as you see, we have been preparing these swords, already made with their fittings and all. These are cooling off.”

  “All by yourself?” Cladius asked.

  “Yes. In a way. Well, I have received help as well.”

  “Help from whom?” Larius bluntly asked.

  “Help from…”

  Alana unsheathed her dagger slowly, making sure no one could hear, and she held it tightly. She caught Kassius’ glance. He shook his head.

  “Not bad,” Cladius said. “But you will need more people in order to produce it. For now, however, this is the usual work of a blacksmith, but how about the renowned bronze and gold crafts?”

  “I will start as soon as this batch of iron is done.”

  “Understood,” the deep-voiced invader said.

  “So a week, at most,” Fabyan clarified.

  “We plan on staying for two weeks,” that Cladius fellow said. “Hope your progress is as quick and efficient when it comes to gold and bronze.”

  “I’ll do my best, sire.”

  “And what could we do about the slaves?” It was the voice of the other man. That had to be Larius. It was a bit higher than his companion’s, and flamboyant, yet masculine. “May we meet the ones who are working so hard to bring about this work.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Fabyan asked, startled.

  “Yes, Fabyan. Are they shy? We overheard them from outside.”

  “No, good sir, they...”

  “Good morning, good men,” Kassius said, and
Alana felt her soul was escaping from her body as he stepped into the main workshop.

  “Good morning,” the other three muttered.

  “And who are you? You are not from here, are you?” the governor asked.

  “Nay, good sire, I’m a slave born in the Land of the Hares, west of the Empire,” he said with a lisp.

  “Oh, from Iberia? What are you doing so far in the East?”

  “He…” Fabyan cleared his throat.

  “I have served Master Fabyan’s house for ever. My family has, my Lord. So, I have come to assist my master.”

  “I see,” Cladius said. “Then, keep up the good work.”

  “What about the other one?” Larius asked.

  “The other what?” Cladius asked.

  “The woman,” Larius’ voice was suspicious.

  “What woman?” Both Fabyan and Kassius asked.

  “There was a woman.”

  The three of them looked at Fabyan, who stood with his hands back and his head down.

  He shook his head.

  “Come on, young Fabyan. Let us meet this woman,” the governor insisted.

  “I smell something. If you excuse me, young man, I’m sure there’s a woman in here.” The governor pushed his way across the two and entered the dormitory.

  Chapter XXVI - Escape the Fate

  Governor Larius pranced around the room, examining the walls, the cupboards, and the inside of the chests.

  Fabyan and Kassius remained in the workshop, with their eyes ever fixed on the man. A million thoughts raced through Kassius’ mind. What could he do if he found her? That was not only Alana’s demise, but also his. He would have to fight back. He took a step back, next to the pile of old swords and daggers. He quietly reached for a small one. Should he stab the man in the back? He had a sword. Both would defend themselves. And how would Fabyan react? What if he tried to kill both visitors, what would he do about Fabyan?

  Larius slowly crouched and looked under the bed.

  Kassius swallowed.

  Then, Larius stood up and opened the window. He turned back toward the forge and strode out of the room.

  “I swear I heard a woman’s voice,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

  “That is strange,” Kassius responded in his best Iberian accent.

  “Anyway,” Larius tapped on Kassius’ shoulder, as Kassius put his hands behind his back, hiding the knife. “Keep up the good work. I beg you forgive my suspicions, but there are wanted men around. And girls. Do you people know about them? Have you seen them before?”

  “Certainly, sir,” Fabyan responded. “We’ve met them, and we keep our eyes open, I mean, when we get the time to go out.”

  “Have you been in that forest, young master?” Larius asked with his only visible eyebrow raised.

  “I… I have not,” Fabyan said.

  “Let me ask your young slave.” He turned toward Kassius and put his hands through his messy hair. “You, as Iberians are renowned for their hare-hunting skills; are you aware of the fauna of this forests. I am planning to go for a hunt one of these days.”

  “Me?” Kassius swallowed. “Well...”

  “Have you been in the woods, young man?”

  “I do not go out all that often,” Kassius muttered.

  “Because your boots are quite wasted and muddy.” Governor Larius looked at his feet. “As if you had dragged yourself through a swamp. Over and over again.”

  “These are the only ones I have, sire,” Kassius stuttered.

  “Have you? Have you not been in those woods? Could you tell me what I need to know?”

  “Well, what is my lord interested in hunting?”

  “Bears.”

  “I know of bears. There must be. They are common, but I have neither seen nor heard of any.”

  “Fair enough. Now, gentlemen,” Cladius interrupted. “We have to check the other forge. And the weaver’s workshop too. We haven’t got all day.”

  “We have time, Cladius,” the governor said, then turned toward the boys. “Would you mind if we stay for lunch?”

  “I’m afraid we have nothing,” Fabyan added. “We have, honestly, no food. I relied on the goodwill of the people of the barracks as of now.”

  “Sire,” Cladius kept cutting them off. “We won’t have time to visit.”

  “Patience, Cladius,” Larius cleared his throat. “So, in that case. Keep up the good work.”

  “We will, sire,” Fabyan answered for both.

  “Thank you for your time, gentlemen,” Cladius solemnly said, as he turned toward the door and opened it. The outside was now white with frost and snow. Larius walked behind him.

  Fabyan rushed to close the door behind the men and Kassius sighed with relief.

  “That was intense,” he said, blinking and shaking his head.

  “Yes,” Fabyan said. “Now, thank you for your help, but please get out before they come back.”

  “Wait.” Kassius walked to the room and looked around. He didn’t see traces of Alana. He looked out the window, glancing sideways.

  Suddenly, he heard a noise directly beneath. Alana’s face emerged from a pile of hay. She spat bits and pieces and quickly stood up, reaching for the window frame and pushing herself in. Kassius took her by the hand and helped her down. She shook off her clothes, and dust and hay descended on the floor.

  “I’d sweep this myself but I’m dead tired, Fabyan,” she muttered.

  “Ah, do you think your friend here is less tired than you?” Kassius said.

  “It’s fine, leave it,” Fabyan said.

  “My gods...” Alana shook her head and stared at her long hair and the stubborn pieces of hay that just wouldn’t fall off. She shook them off again.

  “Thank the gods you’re safe,” Kassius said, making eye contact and smiling slightly.

  “We’re safe,” she said, lowering her head.

  “And… Now what?”

  “We have to rescue Tor.” She lifted her chin.

  “Are you out of your mind? That is suicidal. How?”

  “We have to.”

  “Yes, but we have to finish the sword too. Pick one.”

  “Tor is in danger!” Alana insisted.

  “Yes, but how can we rescue him? And we need the gem and the sword to work, if not, he will burn the forest and obliterate us.”

  “Kassius, do you even know where the gem is?”

  “I’m seeing it in visions. I think I know. I think I can find it today, but it will be dangerous too.”

  “Well, then you’ve got to find it today. And you’re right about the timing. He’s gonna burn the forest!”

  “Well, we can stay inside our little place, can’t we?” Kassius suggested.

  “Let’s get the sword and defend the forest.”

  Kassius sighed.

  “I agree, but… Wait… I’ve got an idea.”

  “Please discuss your ideas on the way,” Fabyan muttered.

  “So do you plan on having the sword ready by tomorrow?” Kassius asked.

  “Yes. I mean, having a rough draft and enough to put the gem inside. You told me how it looks. We need to flatten it a bit, and have Tor make the crucible after I bring him to the forest. To look just like it’s supposed to. Fabyan, do you still have ebony by any chance?”

  “Get it from the carpenter,” he said.

  “Do you have it or not?” Alana insisted.

  “Don’t think so.”

  “Blast! Anyway, I’ll rescue Tor tonight, you go in search of the gem and we gather here and...”

  Suddenly the door flew open again. Alana, Fabyan, and Kassius stared at it, their faces pale and their jaws dropping as one of the foreigners peeked inside. That time, Alana could not hide.

  Cladius, the dark-skinned delegate from Itruschia stood with one hand on the door, one foot inside, the other in the snow.

  “Young men, if you are free tonight,” he faced Alan
a, looking at her in the eye. “I have invited all of the soldiers to a big feast. All, especially the ones in the prison. Thank you, I had forgotten to say this. Especially you, I hope you can take this opportunity. Have a good day.”

  He shut the door.

  They stared at each other in silence, until Alana cleared her throat.

  “F-f-abyan? Do you have iron oxide by any chance?” Alana asked.

  “It’s in a glass jar under the cupboard,” he answered, his face still as pale as paper and his mouth half-open.

  Alana turned her back and rushed to the cupboard. She fidgeted through the jars, half distracted. What she had just experienced had been surreal. What did he mean the ones in the prison? Did that mean he had cleared the way for her to go to the prison that night and rescue Tor? He had probably recognized Kassius from the pictures and the description. But why? Why help them? Was it a trap? Was it going to be an ambush? If so, why not capture them then and there?

  That was too much information for too short a time frame. She kept pawing through the jars, realizing there was something wrong.

  “What did you do?” she complained. “You changed them all and labelled them with letters. What is this black glass? They all look the same.” She took one from the cupboard and lifted it against the light.

  “That’s powdered carbon,” Kassius said.

  Alana frowned.

  “Oh, that one’s the oxide,” Fabyan said, pointing at the third jar over the cupboard.

  She nodded and opened the jar. A rusty smell invaded the air.

  “What are you gonna do with that?” Kassius raised an eyebrow. To his surprise, Alana opened and poured the powder on the table and added olive oil from the counter, then she started to smear it on her hair. It worked as a kind of dye, painting it red.

  “Mirror,” she said, extending her hand. Kassius quickly gave her the only mirror in the house, a broken one. “Perfect,” she said.

  “Indeed,” Kassius said. “Did I mention that redheads drive me crazy?”

  “I beg your pardon?” she asked, turning around.

  “I like it.” Kassius cleared his throat.

  “So, that means you never liked my natural hair.”

  “I did not say that, I like you anyway, but...”

  “So you like me, huh?”

 

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