Quick update but a shorter chappie this time. Nothing to report except that some things about Jack and Rapunzel will be revealed.
coldblue (guest): I'm not going to reveal anything regarding Hiccup but what I can say is that dragons, currently, play no part in the story. I might be able to add something of them but it'll be brief. Sorry.
Guest: Maybe….
Enjoy!
Chapter #4: Swords and Secrets
Third Person POV
The sun was slowly starting to rise of the castle and the town. Far of in the distance, on a hill with a clear view of the castle, stood two cloaked figures. The shorter one of the two was wearing a blue cloak and the other a black cloak; their faces hidden by the hood. They were staring at the castle; they had both heard that the famous blacksmith had arrived and accepted a challenge the day before,
"It's hard to believe that a Scot has that great skill in blacksmithing. It's worthy of a Viking smith." A masculine voice from the black hood said. He was replied with a feminine scoff from the blue cloak,
"Indeed he does but he's not a Viking. No Viking can hide from the King; he will just look at them and he'll know they're a Viking. From hunting bears, the bastard has turned to hunting Vikings." The black hood turned to face the blue hood,
"Then it's a good thing he's never seen your face." The feminine voice chuckled,
"That's true. I heard from Sax and Ang a while ago that many believe that I'm just some myth. Just a story that's supposed to give hope." The remark caused a short chuckle to emerge from the black hood but that quickly faded to a serious tone,
"I spoke to Sax a few days ago. He's inquiring about the money; he won't be able to hide them much longer." Something below the blue cloak moved and from it came a feminine hand with a large pouch filled with coins. It stretched out towards the black cloak and a much larger hand emerged from the black, taking the pouch.
"Give this to Sax," The female instructed as the hand disappeared back to the cloak, "But tell him that he needs to wait for the new moon. At night, they can escape via the forest and meet at the checkpoints along the way. The money will take them as far as England with leftover to live off of for the next month." The black hood nodded and turned to leave when he heard a deep sigh. The black stopped and walked back to the blue, standing in front of it,
"Sometimes I wonder why we are even doing this." Two large hands from the black placed itself on the shoulders of the blue,
"The gods spared us for a reason and this is the reason. We both lost a lot during the war and-"
"But you still have your father." The blue retorted,
"Who's turning into a madman after years of claiming he's the rightful heir to the tribe since the real heir isn't alive." The blue hood looked up,
"Isn't? He is out there, Seoc!" She spat back, "They never found his body after the attack. He's out there!"
"Aileen," Seoc said sternly, squeezing her shoulders, "He was a runt, a weakling." One of the large hands dropped and motioned to both her and himself. "We barely survived the journey to the mainland. How in Thor's name could he have survived?" Aileen was silent for a while,
"I understand your thinking," She replied calmly, "But I still believe that he's out there." They stood silent for quite a while, watching the sun rise slowly over the castle,
"They caught another Viking yesterday." Seoc suddenly said quite solemnly. Aileen nodded,
"I know." She said in the same solemn tone,
"How are we going to tell him that his twin is dead?" She looked at his covered face,
"Easy," was the reply, "We don't."
Jack's POV
When I woke up that morning, I found the house empty. Hendry had been gone the whole night working on his sword and Rapunzel had already gone to the castle; she had to help the princess get ready for the celebration tonight. Tonight was also when Hendry had to get the sword done; if he didn't, he wouldn't have a job. I'll have to drop by the smithy some time today and see how he's coming along.
After I got up and dressed, I saw a large basket with a cloth covering its contents on the table. I lifted the cloth and saw several loaves of bread, a few bottles filled with water, cheese, several apples and a hump of folded brown cloth. I knew immediately what the basket was for and reached under the table. From an unseen hook, I grabbed a small key. With the basket in hand, I walked down into the storage room. At one end of the room, hidden in a corner, stood a large cabinet. I placed the basket onto one of the empty shelves and pushed the cabinet to the side, revealing a dark tunnel hidden behind it. After lighting a torch and retrieving the basket, I made my way down the tunnel. It didn't take long before I reached the end of the tunnel and faced an oak door. I placed the key into the lock, turned it and opened the door.
I entered a dark room that had very little light. The room hardly had any furniture; a table, a bed, a few chairs and a chest filled with who knew what. At the table sat a grownup man and across from him sat a little girl, about 5 years old, playing with a dragon doll. As soon as I had entered the room, the man looked up. When he realized it was me, he stood up and I handed the basket to him. He muttered what I suspected to be 'thank you' in Norse. He walked back and placed the basket on the table, removing the cloth and handing a loaf of bread to the girl. Hungrily, she grabbed it with her little hands. As he watched her eat, the man looked at her and gave a sad smile, facing the reality of their situation once more.
I didn't know a lot about this man and his daughter but what I did know was that they were Vikings; they were one of the lucky ones who survived the massacre after the war and one of many who wanted to leave Scotland. He spoke Gaelic and English but with a heavy Norse accent while the girl only spoke Norse. It was a miracle that they were found by the right people before they were discovered. Someone had talked to them that day and told them that Rapunzel and I would keep them safe until we could organize safe passage to either England or mainland Europe. Other that that the only thing I know about them are their names; the man's assumed name is Ruaridh and the girl's is Teàrlag but their real names are Tuffnut and Rannveig Thorston.
Rannveig had finished eating her bread and rummaged through the basket and found the brown cloth. She looked at it and clearly looked confused. With a chuckle, I took it gently from her and wrapped the cloth around her, tying the front so it closed. Rannveig looked and saw that it was a cloak,
"Rapunzel made it for you." I explained even though I knew she couldn't understand me, "To keep you warm during the journey." Tuffnut translated and Rannveig smiled and threw her small arms around my neck, giggling. I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a few gentle pats on her back. When she pulled away, she said something to me; clearly a question. I looked at Tuffnut,
"She asks if you have children." He translated in heavily accented English. Yes, Rapunzel and I had a child; a daughter. Little Diana, an adorable girl with blonde hair and dark amber eyes. I remember that she looked just like her mother and I was certain she would grow into a beautiful woman but sadly that never happened. She was taken from us after two winters. We were devastated by her passing. We had wanted a child for a long time and Diana was the first one we could actually hold in our arms. Every time I looked at Rannveig, I see Diana; the two looked so similar with the same colour hair and eyes.
I let out a sigh and shook my head. Rannveig's expression turned to one of sympathy and she placed her small hand on top of mine. I smiled a little and moved my free hand on top of hers. She said something to me in Norse. I looked to Tuffnut for the translation,
"She says you'd be a wonderful father." I looked at the little girl again and I was certain that water collected at the bottom of my eyes,
"Thank you." I whispered. She gave me another smile and threw her arms around me once more. After what felt like an eternity, I let go of the little girl and made my way back to the heavy oak door. Before closing the door and locking it, I looked at them and gave them both a warm smile. I made my way back through the tunnel and pushed the cabinet back to its original spot. When I entered the home again, I saw a large pouch on the table that hadn't been there when I left. Beside the pouch was a note with symbols and scribbles that would have no meaning to most people. It said,
"Wait until the new moon."
Hiccup's POV
It was about midday now and I couldn't be more proud of myself. The sword was finished. In my hand, I held a claymore, the blade so shiny it cast a reflection of light on the wall. A claymore is a two-handed Scottish sword. It is approximately 60 inches long and renowned for its fine balance. The only problem with a claymore is that it's heavy; a steel claymore could easily weigh 5.5 lbs and, because of its weight, only the strongest warriors could wield it. But lucky for me, the King is among the strongest in the kingdom.
With the sword being made in such a short amount of time, the blade was perhaps the best I had ever created. The quality of a sword is criticized in 4 areas: hardness, strength, flexibility, and balance. A good sword has to be hard enough to hold an edge along a length which can range from 18 inches to more than 36 inches and at the same time be strong and flexible enough so that it can absorb massive shocks at just about any point along its length and not crack or break.
When it came to the metal, I've always preferred steel. Steel was strong, more durable, and had better wear resistance than any other metal available in DunBroch. Iron could be used too but it is harder to find here and it rusts too fast.
As I ran a cloth over the blade, adding to the shining, I ran the steps of making a sword in my head. Making a sword can be divided into six steps: forging, annealing, grinding, hardening, tempering, and lastly, completion.
Forging is when the bar of the metal used is heated in a forge and then hammered into shape. The sword is worked on in sections and is repeatedly hammered and heated until it becomes the desired shape.
Annealing softens the metal and makes it easier to grind into shape. The sword is heated and then set aside to cool. This step took a few hours and during those few hours, I used my time wisely by making the hilt of the sword.
After annealing, the metal is put in a grinder to work out the edge and give the sword a point. At this point, if desired, a smith could put any engravings into the blade but, as much as would have liked to do it, I didn't have the time to so. And although the sword has the right shape at this stage, it is not done; the metal is too soft.
The metal is then heated to a very high temperature and then quickly placed into a quenching tank, which basically is a tank full of water. The water cools the metal down rapidly and causes it to harden but it causes the metal to become brittle.
Tempering is very similar to the hardening stage except that the metal is heated to a lower temperature. At this stage, the skill and experience of the smith is invaluable as it takes a trained eye and hand to understand the properties of the metal; it should have a certain amount of flexibility and still retain its sharp edge.
After tempering, the blade is complete and the hilt is added. I ran the cloth once more over the blade and carefully placed the blade on the table. I grabbed my tunic that was lying carelessly by the anvil. As soon as I had it over my head, there was a knock at the door and I heard the door creak loudly,
"Hendry?" I heard a familiar voice say. I straightened out my tunic and turned around to see the familiar face of Jack,
"Can I help you, good sir?" I joked. He stared at me for a moment, his expression evident that he wasn't trying to laugh but it was in vain and he burst out laughing, which caused me to start laughing. It took a while before our bouts of laughter ended. When it finally did, I had water in my eyes and so did Jack. "What are you doing here Jack?"
"Came to check how the sword was coming along." He asked as I wiped my slightly blackened hands with a clean cloth. After most of the black was gone, put the cloth down,
"I have good news." I walked back to the table and carefully grabbed the completed claymore, one hand on the hilt and the other on the flat of the blade. Jack stared at the gleaming sword with wide eyes and then back at me,
"You're done?"
"Almost." He gave me an odd look as I placed the sword back on the table, "The only thing it needs is the approval of the King."
Sorry to cut it off here but something very important is going to happen next chapter and I want to write it very detailed, which means it'll take a while. I'll give you guys a hint for next chapter: it involves Merida and Hiccup. You guys have no idea how much research went to Hiccup's blacksmithing section. It was Pockets that convinced me to write it out so you guys can thank her for that. Review, favourite, follow.