Lusam: The Dragon Mage Wars Book One (13 page)

The streets in the west quarter seemed eerily quiet at this time of the morning. Neala imagined most of the trade in this part of the city was conducted during the hours of darkness for various reasons. She turned a corner and noticed a seedy looking tavern with a sign hanging outside. There were two old drunks standing outside the open tavern door, leaning on each other for stability, and singing old sea faring songs, badly. Looking at the sign, she realised for the first time in her life that she could actually read what the
words said: '
The Ferret Hole
.'
Feeling very pleased with herself, Neala continued along the cobbled street until reaching a junction, where she took a sharp right turn. After walking for several more minutes, she began to get the district feeling that she was being followed. Looking back the way she had come, she searched the doorways and shadows for anyone that may be trying to hide there, but couldn't see any sign of anyone. Either her over-active imagination was playing tricks on her, or whoever was following her was very good at their job.

Using the reflections in the glass shop windows as she passed, she tried to catch a glimpse of anyone who might be following her, but still she couldn't see any sign of anyone sneaking around behind her.  Not knowing if the threat was real, or simply in her head, she decided not to take any chances, and increased her pace a little. As she turned the next corner, she set off at a jog down the wide street, still checking all the reflections and listening for anyone following as she went. When Neala finally reached what was classed as the main area of commerce in the west district, she started to relax, as she joined the small crowds of people going about their daily business of buying and selling their wares.  Checking one last time, she still couldn't see anyone following her, but decided she would take the much longer route back, through the north quarter of the city, when she later returned to the book shop.

The blacksmith's shop was easy enough to find. A sign depicting a hammer and anvil hung above the door, swinging gently in the light morning breeze. The large well-oiled door opened with ease and operated a bell as it did so, alerting the owner to her presence in the shop. Less than a minute later a very muscular middle-aged man with dark hair, and a beard peppered with grey appeared from the back of the shop. Looking at him, Neala judged him to be in his mid-to-late forties. Still wearing his apron and holding a strange looking hammer he nodded to Neala, looking her up and down, before saying, “Hello there! Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yes, I hope so. I was told you made weapons here?”

The man looked at her again, this time with a little more curiosity in his eyes. It was obvious he was used to being asked for weapons, but Neala guessed it wasn't so common for a young girl to be asking for them.

“What kind of weapon were you looking for little lady?” he asked, with more sarcasm in his voice than Neala could take.

Swallowing her anger, knowing this man was probably her only chance of replacing her lost weapons any time in the near future, she replied coolly, “I was looking to purchase a set of throwing knives, but only if the quality of your weapons meet my high standards.”

The blacksmith's face turned red with anger at her intended insult, and with an extreme look of contempt in his eyes he spat back, “I make the best weapons in Helveel, and probably all of Afaraon, and I only sell them to people capable of wielding them with enough skill, not silly little girls like you!”

Deciding she would rather wait for her knives forever than take any more insults from this man, Neala looked straight at him, and with as much venom in her voice as she could muster replied, “If you call me a little girl again, I'll show you just how much skill I
do
have, and kill you where you stand.”

The Blacksmith removed his hand from behind his apron and revealed he was carrying a wicked looking knife. Dropping his hammer he lunged towards Neala's throat with his weapon. Neala had already removed her daggers and intercepted his attack with blinding speed and accuracy, parrying his attack harmlessly to the side. Faster and faster they acted and reacted to each other's attacks, neither gaining the upper hand. Neala was impressed with the man's skill level. Apart from her old guild leader, she had never seen anyone as skilful with a weapon as this blacksmith. Together they danced a deadly waltz in the middle of his shop, until Neala saw an opening, and took it. Disarming him of his knife, her dagger came swiftly to his throat. As she looked into his eyes expecting to see fear, she only saw
amusement instead.
The blacksmith suddenly started laughing at her. Neala was so incensed by him, she was about to end him, when he casually said, “Very good. Looks like you do have a small amount of skill after all. Seems I was wrong about you.”

“Some skill? Looks like you're a dead man to me,” Neala replied, with her dagger still pressed against his neck.

“I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you,” the blacksmith replied, as he applied a little pressure to a dagger Neala had failed to see, now pressed against her ribcage ready to pierce her heart.
Damn! This guy is good
, she thought to herself.

“So, are you going to sell me some knives or not?”

The Blacksmith roared with laughter at her casual remark, before lowering his dagger and taking a step back out of harm's way.

“You must be new in these parts. Which guild do belong to?” he asked, putting his weapons away behind his apron, and then retrieving his hammer from the floor.

“I'm not part of any guild. I approached one when I first arrived in Helveel and they refused to take me. They thought I might be a spy I guess. I didn’t think it would be too healthy to approach a second guild.”

“Smart as well. I like you, girl. Looks like they missed an opportunity to gain a skilled fighter by refusing you entry to their guild,” he replied, still smiling at her.
Neala got the impression his last statement was as close to a compliment as the man had ever given, and she nodded her approval.
“Come, let's go see what we can do about these knives of yours. My workshop is in the back,” he said, pointing towards the door he had first emerged through.

Neala followed him into the back of the shop, and was quite surprised at how much larger this area was compared with the part of the shop she had first entered from the street. There were two huge open doors leading out to what looked like a small private courtyard. Two forges stood in the centre of the room—both equipped with bellows, and chimneys that disappeared up through the high roof—and various containers of water, which must have been used for cooling the metal after it came out of the forges. Looking towards the back of the workshop, Neala noticed the whole wall was covered in all manner of weaponry. There were weapons of all shapes and sizes: sword, maces, axes, halberds, pikes, daggers and many other deadly looking items she didn't even know the names of. Slightly startling her from her thoughts regarding all the weapons, the blacksmith asked, “So, what kind of knives were you looking for?”

“Er … I was looking for a price on a set of throwing knives, and a leather belt to hold them, if that’s something you can do as well?” she replied, still glancing between him and the huge collection of weapons hanging on the wall.

“Well, for a standard set of six knives I charge two gold. I have a local leather worker who crafts the belts for another two silver. I can have them made in three days time for you, along with the belt. I would need one gold as a deposit before I start to make them however.”

Neala was quite shocked at the cost of creating a set of throwing knives, and thought of how foolish she would look when she informed him that she couldn't afford his services after all. She had never bought any weapons for herself in the past. They had always been provided for her by one of the blacksmith shops owned by her guild. Seeing her hesitation, the blacksmith added, “I can assure you, my weapons are of the finest quality, and made from the highest grades of metal money can buy.”

Now feeling a little foolish at not asking the price when she first entered the shop, she quietly replied, “Yes, I'm sure the quality of your weapons are second to none, but unfortunately, I only have one gold at present. I apologise for wasting your time sir.” Looking away from the blacksmith and waiting for his angry reply, she was surprised to only hear a good humoured laugh instead.

“I might still be able to help you. There's a reason I take a one gold deposit on such items. The kind of work carried out by the people who order such weapons can be, dangerous, as I'm sure you already know. They don't always come back to collect what they have ordered, as you can see
from my wall over there,” he said, pointing towards the large assortment of weapons.
“I do have a set of six throwing knives that were ordered around two months ago now. The man that ordered them has never been back to pay the balance and collect his weapons. I always inform my customers that I'll only keep them for one month after making them. After that they get sold or smelted back into raw materials, and they lose their deposit. If they aren't happy about that, they can always come back and …
discuss
it with me, if they choose,” he said grinning at Neala.

Neala had no doubts about how that conversation would resolve itself, and she was very sure no refunds would be forthcoming.

“The knives were ordered to his specifications. If you're willing to live with that I can let you have them for your one gold. You wanna take a look at them?”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks,” Neala replied, not believing her luck. The blacksmith walked over to a large table near the back of the shop and sorted through a pile of items, before returning with the set of throwing knives, and handing it to Neala. She took the belt from him and walked over to an empty table, where she could better inspect the knives.

The first thing she noticed was the belt. It was skilfully made and very robust looking. It was a little heavier than the one she used to own, but that was probably because
they were made for a time when she was a little younger.
The knives were also very skilfully crafted, and much better quality than her old ones, but again, they were larger and heavier. They were made from one solid piece of steel, and the handles had been drilled to balance them. Lifting and twirling them in her hand, she noticed they weren't entirely balanced correctly. Confused as to why such a well-made knife wouldn't be balanced correctly, she said, “These knives are certainly very well-made, but I noticed the balance isn't quite right on them.”

“I see you also know your weapons well,” he replied, nodding at her keen observation. “You're correct. The knives are not perfectly balanced. The man who ordered the weapons favoured a slightly heavier handle. The reason he preferred them that way, is only known to him I'm afraid. Like I said, if you're willing to live with his specifications, they're yours for only one gold.”

Neala couldn't deny the quality of the weapons in front of her, nor could she afford to buy a newly crafted set to her own specifications from him, or probably anyone else for that matter. After thinking about the various options available to her, which were definitely limited given her current funds, she decided to go out on a limb, and said, “Okay, I'll take them, on one condition. At that price, you throw in a small metal file, so I can balance them myself. I'm sure you know unbalanced throwing knives aren't going to
be at the top of most people's shopping lists, and you could be stuck with them for a long time.”
The blacksmith roared with laughter, so loud that it made her jump. “Okay, you have yourself a deal, girl. Looks like you bought yourself a set of  throwing knives. Most people who come in here I take an instant dislike to, but you, I like. You have spirit girl. If you ever decide you want to join a guild in Helveel, come and see me first. I know a lot of people. I'm sure I can pull some strings and get you into one of the top guilds here,” he said, slapping her on the shoulders, and knocking the wind right out of her.

Picking up her new set of throwing knives she fastened them around her waist. The belt was wide and comfortable, and she doubted she would have to make any alterations to it. She accepted the small file and bid him farewell, before returning to the front of the shop and exiting back out onto the cobbled street. The comforting weight at her waist made her feel like she was fully dressed again, for the first time in a long time.

Neala decided to buy their provisions in the west quarter marketplace, while it was still early enough to get the better quality items. After she'd bought what they needed, she turned and headed towards the north quarter of the city. The journey would take more than twice as long, but she didn't want to go back through the west quarter alone again.

The journey back to the shop was long and uneventful. Although Neala was almost sure no one was actually following her, and it was all just in her head, she still fell back on her years of training, and took a route back to the book shop that would lose any potential pursuers. She entered several shops that she knew had more than one exit, switching streets and alleys as she left each one, entering via one door, and quickly exiting through another. Staying within crowds wherever possible, and making it almost impossible to follow her path back to the book shop. When she finally arrived at the street where the book shop was located, she quickly checked that no one would see her entering the shop, before opening the door and slipping inside, she then swiftly closed the door behind herself.