Chapter Eight: Feather and Fin
As was normal for my Seventhdays at the smithy, I was handed over to Gran to help with cooking and, I hoped, to learn something new and get to know better the women about me. I was thanked many times by the daughters of the clan for the supplies I had brought, especially the salt and spices, both of which were hard to come by this far west. I was set to helping with dinner, and soon I was peeling parsnips and catching up with gossip and news.
I had not been here for almost two years, and in that time, between births, marriages, and new apprentice smiths, the number of Dwarfs here had increased to forty-six, forty-seven if I was included. That equaled quite a lot of parsnips, and I was glad that midway through my heap of root vegetables, Belana joined me with her knife and a board and a large piece of ginger that she carefully peeled and began chopping.
"May I ask how long you've bided here, lady?" I probed, genuinely intrigued as to why a Daughter of Clan Svarog would move from mountain to river. Comely and not quite plump, she was pretty in a way completely different than Susan, more earthy and less formal, but her eyes were as blue and as bright. I think she was as interested in me as I was in her, because she cast me a quick glance as she said,
"I moved here this Nor'wind past. Did you not know?"
She seemed surprised. I grabbed another parsnip. "No, but Brickit is not renowned for the length or depth or frequency of his letters. Are you an apprentice?"
She smiled, showing off dimples. The sweet, pungent smell of ginger filled the air, and once it was diced to her satisfaction, she began slicing up the pile of parsnips. "Not I, King Edmund. Smithing doesn't make warm clothes, nor yet grow enough vegetables to see us through the winter."
"For that there is no argument, especially since I want to eat tonight and every night."
Belana gave a quiet laugh before growing serious. "Here at the smithy they follow the old ways closer than my own clan. We didn't all eat together as they do here."
"Which do you prefer?"
"I like it here. This way, we know everyone has eaten, and all are hale and healthy. It stops food from being used as a punishment if a child misbehaves. Even if there isn't enough to fill a belly, every belly has something."
I had never thought of it that way. To me everyone at the smithy eating together was a reflection of their sense of community and family. I knew the chief and his family were served last to ensure that the rest of the clan had food before them, but the fact that Belana had told me meant it was something she had seen or experienced firsthand. I was no stranger to being hungry. While my family had never gone without food during the war, there had been times when our plates and bellies were not quite full, and while my mother might have denied me pudding if I had acted up, I had never been denied dinner.
"We used to say we were dining with the queen on the nights we had no supper, since so often what food we had was taken by the Witch's army or secret police. Those were hard times, and I will never look back with fondness on those days, save that my mother was still with me." She drew a deep breath, looking up and around in an attempt, I think, to hold back the tears. "We have a longhouse at Moonspring, but it's not used daily and it's not the haven this house is. I'd rather be here."
"I'm glad you are."
She smiled again, and for a few minutes we worked in silence. Then she said, "My people are not the craftsmen they are here at the smithy, though they are not without skill. They work the mines. It's hard, but satisfying, and they are closer to the earth than most."
"For what do they mine?"
"Iron ore mostly, though nearby are some smaller mines for silver and rubies which they work when time permits."
"I should like to see them someday."
She smiled. "I'll show you."
"Have you family here?" I asked, and again she looked surprised.
"I am a cousin to Master Boont."
"You have the same eyes."
"A family trait."
I handed off a peeled parsnip. "My brother and sisters have blue eyes. I'm the only one of us to take after our mother. Her eyes are brown, and her hair."
Belana quietly studied me for a few moments, taking in my hair, my features. I wondered what she saw, and when she spoke, I thought that she must have seen far more than I could imagine. "Your mother must be a very brave and beautiful woman, King Edmund."
I felt a bittersweet pang. Had I been anything less than a King of Narnia, anywhere less than here in my kingdom, I might have wept for missing my mother. Instead I gave Belana a knowing smile and softly said, "I have always thought so, lady."
OoOoOoOoOoOoO
Gran's lesson that morn included me, a few daughters of the clan, and several of the youngest apprentices or soon-to-be apprentices, including Brack and Bostrom and Bette. It was a cool and overcast day, so it was pleasant to stay indoors in the warm hall, sip coffee and learn a new craft. Sitting at the end of the long table, we were each given a scrap of paper and told to draw a simple design to fit. Faced by a piece of paper a few inches long, I took the pencil we were all sharing, drew my best feather, and added a few details before passing the pencil along. Brack drew a fish and we took a moment to admire the other's artistic skill (or lack thereof).
Scissors came next to cut out our masterpieces, and then we were each handed a bit of fine sheet of silver the size of our papers. The day was then spent learning to snip out the designs we had made (aided by Gran for the finer details) with heavy shears and going to one of the workshops I had never been in before to grind and polish our efforts. Gran showed us various stamps and hammers to add details like the veins of a leaf or the shaft of a feather and the scales of a fish, and how to hammer the sheet lightly with a ball peen to get the metal to curve slightly in upon itself and give it some depth. I was delighted with the day and the array of new tools (which were small even by Dwarf standards, making them tiny by mine). I also faced my hair's old nemesis, clay from the Blue River for polishing. We all got dirty hands and cuffs from the final polishing stage for our trinkets. When I rinsed my efforts a final time in a clean bath I had, for a day's work, a small cut, sore arms from helping turn the grinding stone for the smaller apprentices, and a pretty, shiny silver charm of a feather as long and wide as my finger. It would have been a bit longer, but my grinding skills got a little ahead of themselves and I wore one side down too much. Luckily, Gran saved the day and my feather as she easily evened out my mistake. I'm fairly certain that one way or another, she saved all of our projects that day.
Brack stood on his toes to see, and I leaned over to show him my finished product. He grinned. "What will you do with it?" he asked.
I had thought about this all day and had my answer ready. "When I get back to Cair Paravel, I'll have one of the jewelers at the court make it into a brooch or hair pin for my younger sister, Lucy. Do you remember I made her a necklace the first time I was here? She rarely takes it off."
He grinned, and placed his simple silver fish on my palm next to the feather. They were close in size and shape, though I thought fins and scales were more daring than feathers.
"Here. Give her this, too. Make it into a brooch for her cloak. She needs something Dwarf-made."
"Brack, are you sure?" I exclaimed, delighted by his generosity.
"I can always make another." He leaned in and whispered, "And this way I can boast a queen is wearing my jewelry."
I laughed, impressed by his logic. "True enough, sir. Thank you. Lucy will be thrilled and believe me when I say she'll tell everyone in Cair Paravel who made it."
I had forgotten about dinner needing to be cooked, but Belana had stepped up in Gran's absence and saw to it no one went hungry. The hall smelled of stew and baking bread and I was suddenly ravenous. I hurried to my place beside Brickit, eager to show him what I had wrought. The Chief Smith grinned to see my efforts.
"Leaf, la?" he asked, his dark eyes twinkling as he turned the feather this way and that.
"La," I agreed, completely serious as I put Brack's fish before him. "And this is a bird."
He laughed and I joined in, well pleased by this day.
