Warriors of the Heavens
Chapter 5
Several hours later found Ayano standing at the massive entrance to the blacksmith’s shop. She could hear the clash of the smith’s hammer on the metal he was working on. Not wanting to interrupt and seem rude, she just stood outside the doorway until the smith’s apprentice nearly collided with her. Blushing heavily, she stepped away and stammered out apologies.
The apprentice dumped his load of firewood on a pre-existing stack and turned to her. “What the hell you doin’ just standin’ there in front of a door like some kinda half-wit?” he demanded. The boy’s hair was matted to a sweaty face that was attached to a body covered by filthy clothes. His hands were on his hips and his lips were pursed waiting for her to respond.
She stood nervously, unable to speak. Her eyes were downcast and she chewed on her bottom lip, searching for words that continued to elude her. The apprentice’s temper was rising. When his temper peaked he raised his fist to strike the seemingly mentally impaired girl standing before him. Just as he was about to strike the smith caught him by the wrist and flung him to the ground.
“What’s the meaning of this, boy?” the smith’s voice boomed naturally from working at such a noisy profession.
“I almost ran into that girl cuz she was just standin’ there all stupid-like in front of the door!” the apprentice spoke quickly making the drawl of his speech more noticeable.
The smith turned to her and smiled, “What’s your business here little girl? Do your parents know where you are?”
Timidly she held out the letter she wrote. “M-my name is Aya-Ayano.” She stuttered and spoke way too fast and nearly bit off her own tongue.
Silently the smith read the letter, on eyebrow raised as he inspected its contents. He spoke to her very seriously, all hints of kindness dissipated, “Did you write this yourself?”
She nodded slowly and he began to laugh. She didn’t know what was so funny and her sense of self-preservation was forgotten as her temper flared. “What’s so funny?!” she demanded her features arranged in a way that was almost comical.
The smith quieted and chuckled, “Nothing. I accept your proposition, but it’s not hard labor you’ll be doing.” The big man kicked the foolish boy that was still on the ground, “That’s what this insolent little bastard is for! You, my dear, will be used as a scribe. You’ll write until your fingers bleed, and then you’ll write some more. The fourth month, however, you’ll teach my ignorant apprentice how to write before you leave. I’ll even let you buy a brand new dress of your choice to take home with you.”
She nodded enthusiastically. She would come out of this deal with more than she bargained for. Perhaps she could even badger him into buying her some light armor instead of a new dress. She smiled to herself as the wheels in her head began to turn…
The apprentice dumped his load of firewood on a pre-existing stack and turned to her. “What the hell you doin’ just standin’ there in front of a door like some kinda half-wit?” he demanded. The boy’s hair was matted to a sweaty face that was attached to a body covered by filthy clothes. His hands were on his hips and his lips were pursed waiting for her to respond.
She stood nervously, unable to speak. Her eyes were downcast and she chewed on her bottom lip, searching for words that continued to elude her. The apprentice’s temper was rising. When his temper peaked he raised his fist to strike the seemingly mentally impaired girl standing before him. Just as he was about to strike the smith caught him by the wrist and flung him to the ground.
“What’s the meaning of this, boy?” the smith’s voice boomed naturally from working at such a noisy profession.
“I almost ran into that girl cuz she was just standin’ there all stupid-like in front of the door!” the apprentice spoke quickly making the drawl of his speech more noticeable.
The smith turned to her and smiled, “What’s your business here little girl? Do your parents know where you are?”
Timidly she held out the letter she wrote. “M-my name is Aya-Ayano.” She stuttered and spoke way too fast and nearly bit off her own tongue.
Silently the smith read the letter, on eyebrow raised as he inspected its contents. He spoke to her very seriously, all hints of kindness dissipated, “Did you write this yourself?”
She nodded slowly and he began to laugh. She didn’t know what was so funny and her sense of self-preservation was forgotten as her temper flared. “What’s so funny?!” she demanded her features arranged in a way that was almost comical.
The smith quieted and chuckled, “Nothing. I accept your proposition, but it’s not hard labor you’ll be doing.” The big man kicked the foolish boy that was still on the ground, “That’s what this insolent little bastard is for! You, my dear, will be used as a scribe. You’ll write until your fingers bleed, and then you’ll write some more. The fourth month, however, you’ll teach my ignorant apprentice how to write before you leave. I’ll even let you buy a brand new dress of your choice to take home with you.”
She nodded enthusiastically. She would come out of this deal with more than she bargained for. Perhaps she could even badger him into buying her some light armor instead of a new dress. She smiled to herself as the wheels in her head began to turn…