Post by Meluivan Indil on Feb 28, 2006 13:00:57 GMT -5
Chapter 8
Destin had finally managed a couple of hours of sleep the next afternoon after his piece was finished. He was completely exhausted after working over the fire all night, so when he was awoken during the afternoon hours by Lord Remy his first reaction was to give the Lord a piece of his mind, which luckily was stopped by Renard entering the smithy.
“Well I see my smithy still stands,” the large man said smiling pointedly at Lord Remy. “Well boy, what have you made me?”
Destin stood from the chair he had been sleeping in and made his way to the workbench. He picked up the item, which was wrapped in cloth so it would not be scratched before he turned it over to Renard. For a few brief moments he considered telling the man that he had not finished as he had second thoughts over what he had made. But that would be cowardly and Destin refused to do such a thing. He walked to where Renard stood and handed the item still wrapped in cloth to Renard and then looked down to the ground waiting his reaction.
Renard unwrapped the item and a look of surprise spread across his face. Remy could not see what the item was from where he stood so he walked around until he could. To his utter surprise Renard held “a soup ladle. You have got to be jesting me,” Remy said laughing loudly at what he saw.
Destin turned to him and the look in his eyes was one of anger. “Forget it,” he said stomping outside of the smithy ready to go back to the house. But Renard and Remy followed him.
Renard’s voice rang out “Boy, stop.” Destin immediately stopped in his tracks, but did not turn around. “Don’t pay no never mind to the Lord here. Why did you choose this item?”
Destin still remained facing away from them but did answer. “The metal was not strong enough to be used as a tool, weapon, or armor, and was not fine enough for jewelry. So I made something usable that would not have much strain to withstand.”
“Well boy considering the fact that his Lordship here took this same test at your age and made a sword that broke on its first strike, it seems to me that you did a d**n fine job at choosing an item to make.” Renard said looking pointedly at Remy, who gave him a scowl.
Destin spun around staring at Lord Remy. “How dare you laugh at me,” he yelled in anger. “A sword that broke on its first stroke. Only a fool would make that mistake.”
“Boy, you are pushing this disrespectful attitude towards its limits,” Remy warned.
“Oh, am I? Well why don’t I see if I can push it a little farther. Tell me is that sword you’re wearing now as brittle as the first you made? Did you make it also?” Destin said in frustration.
“Do you wish to test that theory of yours, boy?” Remy asked pulling his sword from its scabbard.
Destin was tired, and irritable, and he had taken about enough from this pompous Lord. How could he have ever imagined that the man was different from all the rest of the Nobility? But he was not stupid. “I have no weapon.”
“By all means, I’m sure Renard will let you borrow one of his,” Remy said motioning Destin to choose one of the swords from inside the smithy.
Destin nodded and went inside the shop to choose. Renard stood shaking his head at the Lord standing there. “Is this necessary?”
“This has been going on too long. He must learn proper respect for his elders and a little gratitude for those who show him kindness,” Remy said angrily.
“He is just a boy, My Lord,” Renard said again shaking his head in utter disbelief.
“Boy’s must learn, Renard,” Remy said as his lips drew into a grim line.
Destin stared at the swords that were hanging on the smithy wall. It would be easy to pick one that would be sturdy, but Destin was beginning to regret this decision. He was not trained in sword fighting. How could he expect to defeat a full-grown man who probably had had the best trainers? But his pride would not allow him to turn back now. He grabbed a sword and tested its weight and feel and then headed back out into the afternoon sun.
“Have you tested that sword, pup? Are you sure it will not snap on the first stroke?” Remy asked still filled with anger.
“Are you going to talk all day?” Destin asked taunting the Lord.
“Just remember, you had plenty of chances to stop this,” Remy said as the look on his face became less angry and more determined. With those words he moved forward striking the fist blow against Destin’s sword.
Destin had not expected the attack to start so soon and he was forced backwards but was still able to hold onto his weapon. Following that there were several fast stokes delivered by Remy’s sword. Destin was able to block each but realized he was way overmatched.
The next strike he was not so lucky with as it clipped his neck right below his ear before he was able to move. He backed away allowing his hand to touch the small slice below his ear and brought it back with blood on it.
“I may not be able to craft a decent sword, but I can definitely wield one successfully,” Remy boasted.
But Destin was not ready to admit defeat yet. “It’s not that difficult a skill,” he taunted yet again.
Remy shook his head in exasperated humor. Why would this boy not admit he was beaten? He went on the offensive again driving his sword towards Destin’s mid-section. Destin was just able to leap out of the way, but in his anger Remy had left his side open, so Destin swung his sword around nearly striking Remy’s side, but the older man was faster ducking low and swung his sword out striking Destin in the ankles with the flat side of the sword. This knocked Destin to the ground and allowed Remy to slip in and place his sword at Destin’s neck. Destin’s sword lie uselessly to his side on the ground.
“Do you yield?” Remy asked, hoping the boy would let this end where it was.
Destin looked up to the Lord and knew there was no way he could regain the advantage at this point. He let his head sink back to the ground as his eyes closed in pure exhaustion. “I yield.” He said in defeat.
Remy backed away placing his sword back in its scabbard and then waited for Destin to open his eyes again. After a few moments Destin did open his eyes and Remy recognized the exhaustion there for the first time. “Come on, boy. You must see the healer before you go home and may rest.”
Destin knew in the situation he was in that he should show the Lord a token of respect. It was called for in the case of this kind of defeat. So he pulled himself to his knees and bowed his head in respect.
Remy could see what Destin was doing and was proud that the boy had enough honor in him to realize what was called for in the situation, but he also felt ashamed that he had forced the boy to do so. Had he not thought several times that he respected the boy’s rebellious nature? “Stand up, Destin,” he reached down and pulled the young man to his feet. “You fought with honor. That is the most I could ask of you.”
Destin’s eyes met the Lord’s. “I was disrespectful. I owe you an apology.” Destin knew he had been wrong to say such things, but Remy also knew that exhaustion could cause a man to say things that were not acceptable.
“I should not have laughed at your creation. Renard was right. You did well on the test. But I’m afraid you need some lessons in sword fighting, before you find yourself in a fight that you cannot hope for survival in,” Remy suggested.
Destin nodded smiling for the first time that day. “Can you suggest a tutor for me?” he asked knowing there was no way he could afford to pay one, but he would ask out of respect anyway.
Remy stared at Renard and the older man could see the wheels turning in his Lord’s mind. “I’m assuming, Renard that you are going to accept Destin as your apprentice.”
Destin looked to Renard. He had almost forgotten the reason he was at the smithy to begin with. Renard nodded his approval. “At least I don’t have to worry about him burning down my smithy while I’m away.”
Destin could see the exasperated look that Remy gave the Metal Crafter, but kept silent.
“Four days a week he will be your apprentice,” Remy began and could see that Destin wanted to interrupt him. “The other three you will train in the skill of the sword with me.”
“With you, My Lord?” Destin asked in surprise.
“Yes with me. If you are to help create swords and armor for my men and I, you should at least know how to use them. And honestly when it comes to running this province my men are much busier than I. So I will train you,” Remy smiled at his own expense.
Destin was beginning to think that maybe his first impression of the Lord was the correct one. The Lord had his faults, and a quick temper at times, but overall he was a fair man. “I thank you, My Lord. But what of my other duties on the estate?”
“I will hire a new stable boy. I promise you will be much too busy for anymore work to be added,” Remy answered. “Now go see the healer and get that cut seen to. Your mother will kill me if she sees that. Then get some sleep. I’m sure Renard will want to see you well rested and even tempered in the morning.”
Destin nodded and bowed to both the Lord and the Metal Crafter before he left.
The two men stood watching the boy ride away. “That went well,” Renard said in surprise.
“I never wanted to hurt him, Renard. But life would be unbearable around here if I continued to allow him to disrespect me at every turn. Things will be better now,” Remy said nodding in satisfaction.
“Hmm. I don’t know if you realize it, but that boy respects you more than you might realize,” Renard said handing the soup ladle that Destin had made to Remy. Remy gave him a confused look and then looked down at the item in his hand. Even though the material was crude it had been polished to a high shine and the handle itself was covered in etchings depicting the Lord’s family crest wrapping all the way around it. Remy realized in utter amazement that the intricate etchings must have taken the boy hours to complete. He also knew that there were no such etchings on any of the items in the smithy. That meant that he would have had to do the work from memory and the design was perfectly accurate also.
“Well I’ll be,” he said in amazement.
“Yes well he has two things you did not have at his age,” Renard commented.
“What’s that?”
“Practicality and humility,” Renard answered. “You keep that. It’s obvious he made it for you,” The man said walking back into his shop.
Remy stood staring down at the item again and then nodded wrapping it carefully again in the cloth and then tucking it away in his saddlebag.
A Hard Lesson Learned
Destin had finally managed a couple of hours of sleep the next afternoon after his piece was finished. He was completely exhausted after working over the fire all night, so when he was awoken during the afternoon hours by Lord Remy his first reaction was to give the Lord a piece of his mind, which luckily was stopped by Renard entering the smithy.
“Well I see my smithy still stands,” the large man said smiling pointedly at Lord Remy. “Well boy, what have you made me?”
Destin stood from the chair he had been sleeping in and made his way to the workbench. He picked up the item, which was wrapped in cloth so it would not be scratched before he turned it over to Renard. For a few brief moments he considered telling the man that he had not finished as he had second thoughts over what he had made. But that would be cowardly and Destin refused to do such a thing. He walked to where Renard stood and handed the item still wrapped in cloth to Renard and then looked down to the ground waiting his reaction.
Renard unwrapped the item and a look of surprise spread across his face. Remy could not see what the item was from where he stood so he walked around until he could. To his utter surprise Renard held “a soup ladle. You have got to be jesting me,” Remy said laughing loudly at what he saw.
Destin turned to him and the look in his eyes was one of anger. “Forget it,” he said stomping outside of the smithy ready to go back to the house. But Renard and Remy followed him.
Renard’s voice rang out “Boy, stop.” Destin immediately stopped in his tracks, but did not turn around. “Don’t pay no never mind to the Lord here. Why did you choose this item?”
Destin still remained facing away from them but did answer. “The metal was not strong enough to be used as a tool, weapon, or armor, and was not fine enough for jewelry. So I made something usable that would not have much strain to withstand.”
“Well boy considering the fact that his Lordship here took this same test at your age and made a sword that broke on its first strike, it seems to me that you did a d**n fine job at choosing an item to make.” Renard said looking pointedly at Remy, who gave him a scowl.
Destin spun around staring at Lord Remy. “How dare you laugh at me,” he yelled in anger. “A sword that broke on its first stroke. Only a fool would make that mistake.”
“Boy, you are pushing this disrespectful attitude towards its limits,” Remy warned.
“Oh, am I? Well why don’t I see if I can push it a little farther. Tell me is that sword you’re wearing now as brittle as the first you made? Did you make it also?” Destin said in frustration.
“Do you wish to test that theory of yours, boy?” Remy asked pulling his sword from its scabbard.
Destin was tired, and irritable, and he had taken about enough from this pompous Lord. How could he have ever imagined that the man was different from all the rest of the Nobility? But he was not stupid. “I have no weapon.”
“By all means, I’m sure Renard will let you borrow one of his,” Remy said motioning Destin to choose one of the swords from inside the smithy.
Destin nodded and went inside the shop to choose. Renard stood shaking his head at the Lord standing there. “Is this necessary?”
“This has been going on too long. He must learn proper respect for his elders and a little gratitude for those who show him kindness,” Remy said angrily.
“He is just a boy, My Lord,” Renard said again shaking his head in utter disbelief.
“Boy’s must learn, Renard,” Remy said as his lips drew into a grim line.
Destin stared at the swords that were hanging on the smithy wall. It would be easy to pick one that would be sturdy, but Destin was beginning to regret this decision. He was not trained in sword fighting. How could he expect to defeat a full-grown man who probably had had the best trainers? But his pride would not allow him to turn back now. He grabbed a sword and tested its weight and feel and then headed back out into the afternoon sun.
“Have you tested that sword, pup? Are you sure it will not snap on the first stroke?” Remy asked still filled with anger.
“Are you going to talk all day?” Destin asked taunting the Lord.
“Just remember, you had plenty of chances to stop this,” Remy said as the look on his face became less angry and more determined. With those words he moved forward striking the fist blow against Destin’s sword.
Destin had not expected the attack to start so soon and he was forced backwards but was still able to hold onto his weapon. Following that there were several fast stokes delivered by Remy’s sword. Destin was able to block each but realized he was way overmatched.
The next strike he was not so lucky with as it clipped his neck right below his ear before he was able to move. He backed away allowing his hand to touch the small slice below his ear and brought it back with blood on it.
“I may not be able to craft a decent sword, but I can definitely wield one successfully,” Remy boasted.
But Destin was not ready to admit defeat yet. “It’s not that difficult a skill,” he taunted yet again.
Remy shook his head in exasperated humor. Why would this boy not admit he was beaten? He went on the offensive again driving his sword towards Destin’s mid-section. Destin was just able to leap out of the way, but in his anger Remy had left his side open, so Destin swung his sword around nearly striking Remy’s side, but the older man was faster ducking low and swung his sword out striking Destin in the ankles with the flat side of the sword. This knocked Destin to the ground and allowed Remy to slip in and place his sword at Destin’s neck. Destin’s sword lie uselessly to his side on the ground.
“Do you yield?” Remy asked, hoping the boy would let this end where it was.
Destin looked up to the Lord and knew there was no way he could regain the advantage at this point. He let his head sink back to the ground as his eyes closed in pure exhaustion. “I yield.” He said in defeat.
Remy backed away placing his sword back in its scabbard and then waited for Destin to open his eyes again. After a few moments Destin did open his eyes and Remy recognized the exhaustion there for the first time. “Come on, boy. You must see the healer before you go home and may rest.”
Destin knew in the situation he was in that he should show the Lord a token of respect. It was called for in the case of this kind of defeat. So he pulled himself to his knees and bowed his head in respect.
Remy could see what Destin was doing and was proud that the boy had enough honor in him to realize what was called for in the situation, but he also felt ashamed that he had forced the boy to do so. Had he not thought several times that he respected the boy’s rebellious nature? “Stand up, Destin,” he reached down and pulled the young man to his feet. “You fought with honor. That is the most I could ask of you.”
Destin’s eyes met the Lord’s. “I was disrespectful. I owe you an apology.” Destin knew he had been wrong to say such things, but Remy also knew that exhaustion could cause a man to say things that were not acceptable.
“I should not have laughed at your creation. Renard was right. You did well on the test. But I’m afraid you need some lessons in sword fighting, before you find yourself in a fight that you cannot hope for survival in,” Remy suggested.
Destin nodded smiling for the first time that day. “Can you suggest a tutor for me?” he asked knowing there was no way he could afford to pay one, but he would ask out of respect anyway.
Remy stared at Renard and the older man could see the wheels turning in his Lord’s mind. “I’m assuming, Renard that you are going to accept Destin as your apprentice.”
Destin looked to Renard. He had almost forgotten the reason he was at the smithy to begin with. Renard nodded his approval. “At least I don’t have to worry about him burning down my smithy while I’m away.”
Destin could see the exasperated look that Remy gave the Metal Crafter, but kept silent.
“Four days a week he will be your apprentice,” Remy began and could see that Destin wanted to interrupt him. “The other three you will train in the skill of the sword with me.”
“With you, My Lord?” Destin asked in surprise.
“Yes with me. If you are to help create swords and armor for my men and I, you should at least know how to use them. And honestly when it comes to running this province my men are much busier than I. So I will train you,” Remy smiled at his own expense.
Destin was beginning to think that maybe his first impression of the Lord was the correct one. The Lord had his faults, and a quick temper at times, but overall he was a fair man. “I thank you, My Lord. But what of my other duties on the estate?”
“I will hire a new stable boy. I promise you will be much too busy for anymore work to be added,” Remy answered. “Now go see the healer and get that cut seen to. Your mother will kill me if she sees that. Then get some sleep. I’m sure Renard will want to see you well rested and even tempered in the morning.”
Destin nodded and bowed to both the Lord and the Metal Crafter before he left.
The two men stood watching the boy ride away. “That went well,” Renard said in surprise.
“I never wanted to hurt him, Renard. But life would be unbearable around here if I continued to allow him to disrespect me at every turn. Things will be better now,” Remy said nodding in satisfaction.
“Hmm. I don’t know if you realize it, but that boy respects you more than you might realize,” Renard said handing the soup ladle that Destin had made to Remy. Remy gave him a confused look and then looked down at the item in his hand. Even though the material was crude it had been polished to a high shine and the handle itself was covered in etchings depicting the Lord’s family crest wrapping all the way around it. Remy realized in utter amazement that the intricate etchings must have taken the boy hours to complete. He also knew that there were no such etchings on any of the items in the smithy. That meant that he would have had to do the work from memory and the design was perfectly accurate also.
“Well I’ll be,” he said in amazement.
“Yes well he has two things you did not have at his age,” Renard commented.
“What’s that?”
“Practicality and humility,” Renard answered. “You keep that. It’s obvious he made it for you,” The man said walking back into his shop.
Remy stood staring down at the item again and then nodded wrapping it carefully again in the cloth and then tucking it away in his saddlebag.