Blacksmith's Apprentice
Rye glanced up from his work as old Elias entered the shop, his keen eyes taking in every detail. The blacksmith was an altogether scruffy looking man, with shoulder length gray hair framing his face in hanging wisps and brown eyes that always looked tired. His face seemed to be permanently smeared with dark smudges of soot from years of forging metal- with his hands to match. But the man was kind and helpful, and often times Rye found himself feeling guilty at using the man's nature to his advantage.
Now was one of those times.
"Good morning lad," Elias said, dropping a small sack onto the wooden table next to the door. Sunlight pouring in from the window situated just above the table cast a warm light on the brown canvas bag. Rye gazed at it, then looked at the blacksmith questioningly.
"Lord Darius is presenting his son with a new sword, on account of young Phillip's becoming a knight. Asked if we could decorate the weapon with some gems."
"Really?" Rye said. Master of deception, it was child's play for him to keep the interest out of his voice.
The blacksmith nodded, "Thats whats in the sack there. All of them emeralds, and all different sizes. Wanted the entire hilt encrusted with 'em, and the biggest stone for the pommel."
"There's that many? I should think finding that many jewels would be hard." Rye said.
The old man shrugged, "Don't know how Lord Darius came across them, but he is a baron after all, I'm sure he has his connections."
Rye nodded, though inside he was seething with frustration. He'd wanted a number, not an explanation.
"Should I start on it right away?" he asked, setting aside the blade he'd been working on. It wasn't really important, just a dagger for his own use.
But Elias shook his head, "I'll start the blade in the evening." Rye heard the unspoken message, I'll do it myself to make sure it's perfect.
He shrugged and headed towards the door, "I'll go out to the village then." He didn't wait to hear the blacksmith's reply.
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Rye strode down the street, nodding greetings to the fellow village folks. They'd come to accept his presence now, although they weren't nearly as hospitable when he first arrived. He frowned as he thought back to how the villagers had cast wary glances at the young boy who'd come looking for an apprenticeship. No one had wanted to take him in, no one except the blacksmith, who wouldn't have been able to see trouble if it had been under his nose. Not taht he blamed the villagers.
It won't matter soon anyway, Rye thought, shaking his head to clear his thoughts, it's time I left anyway.
The sign hanging over the bakery door depicted a loaf of bread, still steaming. It had always made Rye laugh, seeing as the bakery sold anything but steaming bread. The bakery always put out the stale loaves first, and by the time they were sold the fresh ones would become stale themselves. The only way to get the loaf fresh would have been to steal it- which Rye had done more than once in the past. It had never failed to amuse him when he'd bring the bread back to the blacksmith and see the old man's astonishment.
Now, he ducked inside the store. The baker looked up from where he was standing behind the counter, his eyes narrowing as he saw who it was. He'd suspected that it was Rye who stole from him, but he'd never accused him,
Rye smiled at him winningly, "Where's your fine daughter today sir? I hope she's well."
"She's fine. Just went out to fetch some water from the well is all," the baker replied suspiciously, "Can I get you something?"
"As a matter of fact, yes, you can. My master sent me to fetch some sugar. He likes to put it in his tea. Do you have any?"
"Yes, of course I do," the baker looked insulted, and Rye's smile turned into an apologetic one, as if he hadn't meant to insult him.
When the baker rushed into a backroom, Rye slipped behind the counter to face shelves that stood out from the wall behind it. He reached over to a shelf that held raspberry pastries and plucked two off, shoving them into his jacket. Then he slipped back to his respective side of the counter just as the baker was returning.
"Here you are son, hope Elias enjoys it."
Rye payed him for the sugar and flashed his winning smile again before slipping out the door. Then he pulled out a pastry and ate it on his way home.
The blacksmith was sleeping when Rye returned, and he took this opportunity to count the gems. There were seventeen in all. Rye smiled, that many jewels could keep an entire family fed for a more than a year.
Just think of what it could do for one person, Rye thought, then shouldered the thought aside. He wasn't going to let it distract him, not now. He'd waited an entire year for a chance like this, and he wasn't going to let miss it.
The blacksmith's living compartments were located on the second floor of the shop. Rye climbed the stairs silently and turned into the first room on his left. The room was almost completely bare save two beds and table with a wash basin resting on it. The bed on the far side, next to the window was occupied by a sleeping figure and for a moment, Rye was struck with guilt. But only for a moment.
The other bed was neatly made and it was the one that Rye hurried too. He bent down to peer under the bed and pulled out a medium sized sack. In it were all the possessions he valued, though, he admitted, most of them had never been his in the first place. He placed the second pastry inside, no need to travel around with it in his pocket for the time being. Then he replaced the bag under the bed and lay down to take a nap. Might as well build up his energy, he had a long night ahead of him.
Please rate this and comment! I would really appreciate it. And sorry for it being a bit boring (or alot, depending on what you thought). It'll get better soon, I promise!
