Written June 2022
The hot summer sun shone down on the cobblestone streets of the busy town that stood in the shadow of the mountain range. Angus leaned on one of the posts of the porch of his house and sipped fresh coffee from a metal cup. It was the first time in who knows how long that he wasn’t up at the crack of dawn, getting the smithy ready to begin another day of work, taking orders, completing orders, getting covered in sweat and grime, the heat of the forge far more intense than the summer sun. Although, it was bright already and it wasn’t even noon, and he wiped sweat from his brow. Even if his help wasn’t required there anymore, he figured he’d stop in. Just in case. It was Luke’s first day back in the smithy in three years, after all; it didn’t hurt to be a little cautious.
“You’re not thinkin’ of goin’ over there and checkin’ on him, are you?” his wife said behind him, as if she had read his mind. The big silvery-haired man turned around.
“Just quick. I just wanna make sure he found everything alright, that’s all.” Mona gave him a look.
“I’m sure that’s all, Angus Donnelly.” He gave her an innocent smile, and she sighed. “Well, if you’re gonna interrupt his work, you might as well get it over and done with so he can get right back to it. You finished with that?” She reached for his cup, and he swallowed the last dregs before handing it to her.
“I ain’t gonna be long,” he assured her, and she sighed.
“I know. He hasn’t been at the anvil in a long time. At least, not doin’ the usual things. It’s just in your nature to worry about him. Go on.” She leaned up and gave him a peck on the cheek. “I’ll be waitin’ for you.”
Angus stepped down off the porch and jammed his hands in his pockets as he strode across the yard toward the street. Buggies and wagons moved along this way and that. Morroway was a thoroughfare town and had grown rapidly ever since the end of the war; more travellers were stopping and staying more often, and more businesses than he could count had cropped up in the past few months. Even before the war had ended, of course, the town needed a good blacksmith, but Angus was getting too far along in years to keep up with the orders, his body tiring much more quickly and the heat getting to him much faster than he could ever remember. He was happy to relinquish the family business to his son upon his return; not just to give himself a well-deserved rest, but, in some ways, to give Luke his own well-deserved rest. The man needed something to keep his mind off the things he had seen; a steady, physical labour that required concentration. Luke had apprenticed under him and worked with him for years before being drafted, but getting back into the swing of things, especially in a job that involved molten and red-hot metals, needed focus. And then man needed to be caught up in something.
The smithy was not far from their home. New buildings were beginning to encroach on the workshop as the town grew, but like always, it stood there beside the open yard, and there was a wagon parked there without its horse. Angus could hear the tell-tale sounds of someone nailing a shoe to a horse’s hoof. While he himself had never minded that job, Luke was far better with the animals; he got that from his mother.
The double doors to the shop were open, and he entered just in time to see Luke taking the file and putting some finishing touches on the horse’s hoof. Nearby, a young man that Angus had served as a customer a few times in the last few months was watching as Luke finished the job. When he stood up straight, flipped the file around and slipped it into the tool box, Angus got another look at just how big his boy was: broad in the shoulder, solid in the hip, and despite the fact he was approaching forty, he had a good head of black mostly black hair on him, a few strands of silver betraying his age. Luke’s mother always gushed about how much he looked like Angus had at that age, especially now that he’d gotten a good haircut after coming home. The young man with him grinned; he hadn’t seen Angus enter.
“She likes you. Never seen her act so good first time with someone new before.” Luke gently rubbed the mare’s shiny bay-coloured shoulder.
“You just gotta be good to ‘em right back. Right, girly?” As if in response, the horse snuffled. “Yeah.” The young many chuckled.
“Well, I better get onto the payment bit. What’s the damage?”
“Fifteen silver.”
“Not as expensive as last time,” the man responded, fishing through his purse.
“’Cause Dad’s got years on me doin’ it. I’m only gonna charge fer the experience I got.”
“Guess it’s like any other job.”
“Sure.” He took the change, tucking it into the pouch at his belt. “Lemme know if there’s any issue and I’ll fix it up real quick. First day back and all.”
“Yeah. Good luck, there, Mr. Donnelly.”
“Ah, thanks.” The man started a little upon seeing Angus while he led the mare through the door, but just grinned, and he and the animal headed out to the yard.
“And just what are you doin’ here?” Luke asked without turning around.
“I was just checkin’ in to see if you found everythin’ alright.”
“I did.” He turned around, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I still remember how to do it, Papa. I promise.”
“It’s an old man’s right to snoop in his son’s business.” Luke sniffed and shook his head, black waves of hair swaying.
“Sure it is.”
“What do you got on the slab today?” Angus asked, following Luke deeper into the shop when his son turned and wandered away.
“Couple of gold miners need some tools fixed up. Buddy buildin’ a house fer his bride wants some fancy twisted iron fencin’, so I’ll be workin’ on that a little later,” he said, rubbing his cheek and smearing dirt on it. “The amount of guys here with war brides is just... I can’t believe it, Papa.”
“You better not be thinkin’ you missed out on nothin’ ‘cause you ain’t in their shoes,” Angus chided, wagging a finger at his son. “You know you don’t rush into nothin’.”
“I know.” He stood still for a minute, steely grey eyes lost in thought. “I’m watchin’ time pass me by, though.”
“These thing happen when they’re meant to.” Luke narrowed his eyes, but looked to a pile of tools stacked in the back of his shop and sighed.
“Yeah. Right now what I’m meant to be doin’ is replacin’ the heads on these things. There’s a ton, so I better start now.” Angus nodded. It was true, his son was getting older, but after coming out of three years of war, he really would do best on his own for a while longer. The right girl wouldn’t mind if he was older.
“Oh, Mr. Donnelly. Hello. It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?” a prim voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts over by the door, and he turned. “My goodness. Is it a new policy for you to wear clothes completely unsuited to your work? Those will be completely ruined in no time at all.” He tried to suppress a grin as a short figure entered the shop, dressed in clothing fit for a miner, only the mouth and nose visible between an absolutely filthy scarf around the neck and protective eye-wear strapped around the head, a metal helmet completing the look. The person had a tool-belt equipped with smaller mining tools, from a chisel and a hammer to a hand-held pickax, and they were carrying a sagging bag over their shoulder with some effort. “I need you to look at these. When you have the time, of course.”
“I won’t be lookin’ at those today, Jules,” he said, and he couldn’t hold back the smile when the character theatrically dropped the bag between them.
“Tomorrow, then.”
“Nope.” He could sense eyes behind those goggles fixed on him quizzically.
“...the day after...?”
“No, but Luke can. I’m retired as of today, Jules. My boy took over the shop. He’ll take a look fer you. Luke, you busy? Come say hello to one of yer repeat customers.” Luke, who’d been arranging the tools piled up by type, dropped one with a noisy clang and wiped the sweat away from his forehead with the back of his hand before coming over. He had at least a half a foot on the figure standing before him, probably more. Angus could tell he was trying not to be curious. “Jules, this is Luke. Luke, Jules.”
“Hi there,” said Luke, offering to shake the character’s gloved hand. “I’ll be takin’ care of all your smithin’ needs from now on.”
“Your boy, Mr. Donnelly,” said Jules. “This is most certainly a man.” They took the offered hand anyway, giving it a shake. “I am pleased to meet you, Luke Donnelly, and I look forward to doing business with you. Oh, how rude of me.” Jules reached up, removing the helmet and placing it on top of the bag, and then the goggles, before taking out a rag and wiping dirt and dust away from their face. “I probably look like a beetle. I am Juliana Sharpe, Mr. Donnelly the younger, but mostly I go by Jules.” Angus was amused to see his son’s shocked face at discovering there was a woman under there. Angus could remember exactly the feeling from the first time he met Jules: a character in a miner’s outfit. He thought it was a teenage boy who’d been helping his father pick away in the mine until she took off her helmet and her dark brown hair fell out of an ill-placed bun. She wouldn’t hear anything about how ladies didn’t belong in the mines. And besides, she didn’t go into the deeper tunnels anyway; all she wanted was in the outer tunnels, closer to the surface.
“Uh,” said Luke. He seemed to have forgotten how to speak.
“Oh, I know. But I figure as long as I’m able to pay you, you won’t have anything ill to say to me after a while.”
“O-oh,” the big man said stupidly. “No. I, uh, don’t have nothin’ bad to say right now. Just surprised, is all. In a good way, that is.”
“Oh, very good,” Jules responded in the same prim way, taking her now lopsided bun out so she could fix it. She wore it low so it sat under her scarf at the nape of her neck, her ears covered by glossy brown hair. “I’m sure you want to know what I need.”
“Yeah, of course, uh, Jules.”
“Well, I have a few raw stones here,” she said, moving the helmet aside and picking up her bag, pulling one out. “And you’ll look at me and say that they aren’t worth anything, in the sense of jewellery, or for trading purposes, and I know that. But what I need you to do is to refine them and then absolutely pulverize them into dust. And keep the different types separate, please; that is completely essential.”
“Oh. Yeah, of course,” Luke said, nodding vigorously.
“Thank you for your understanding. If your father taught you, I’m sure you’ll do the job just fine.”
“Yeah, he taught me all I know. You gotta be patient with me, though; first day back in three years.”
“Oh?” she said with genuine curiosity, replacing the rock in her bag. “Were you away or ill?”
“I was... enlisted,” he said slowly.
“Ah, of course. Thank you for your service, though I don’t get the impression most people like to dwell on their service.” Angus tensed, because she was spot on; Luke didn’t like to talk about his service at all. He’d barely told either of his parents anything about what he’d seen or done. Luke nodded and turned his steely eyes elsewhere.
“No. Not really.”
“Then we won’t. We will talk about business. Is it possible I can get an estimate?”
“Oh, yeah. Just grab your helmet and them goggles there and come over to the bench.” When Jules had gathered her things, Luke picked the bag up and hefted it over to the bench. Angus knew he should go, and he pretended to be doing just that, but he lurked just outside the smithy door and listened instead. “So, you come to town recently? Papa seems to know you.”
“Oh, no. I’ve been here for a little over two years, though I live outside the town and come in to do to my business, two or three time a week. I usually come here on Thursdays, the market on Saturdays, and anything else that needs doing happens on Tuesdays.”
“So you have it all down and scheduled, then,” Luke responded, his tone taking on a mirthful quality.
“Yes. I am quite busy otherwise. You will be very busy here, too, I imagine. Do you work every day?”
“Everyday ‘cept our One God’s Day.”
“Mm. I see. You go to the temple, then.”
“Sure do. Will I see you there?”
“I’m afraid not,” Jules sighed. “It simply is not worth the trip from my home. I live on the mountain.”
“On the mountain?” he repeated playfully. “That don’t make for a good commute when you wanna go out on the town.”
“I am not the sort of person that goes out on the town, so it is really no issue for me.”
“No? Young lady like you, don’t got not suitors to visit?” Angus smirked. If he were talking to anyone but Jules, this would be the most conspicuous question in the world, but he knew the girl wouldn’t think anything of it. However, she did laugh a practised, automatic sort of laugh.
“No, I do not. I may be a little older than you think, Mr. Donnelly; I am past that age.”
“No,” Luke teased. “You ain’t. And you can call me Luke.”
“I am nearly thirty. My time has come and gone; I’m quite happy on the mountain by myself.”
“I’m older’n you, but I know it ain’t quite time to throw in the towel yet.” He paused. “Hmm. You got some real hard ones here. Whole lot, ten silver. Pay when it’s done.”
“I assume you have worked here prior to your service, and your experience is reflected in the price. I am going to trust you, Mr. Donnelly. Shall I leave them here?”
“It’s Luke, Jules. And yeah. I got some tools to finish up with today, but I’ll get to ‘em tomorrow, and you can come Saturday. You said you’d be back in town?”
“Yes. I will stop by after the market.”
“Good stuff.” There was a clattering as he placed the stones back in their bag. “Say, what do you need these things all powdered up for?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I am apprenticing with the wizard Jebeus, and the powdered refined ore is needed for potions and elixirs. It dissolves easily that way.” There was a long period of silence. “So I shall come for them on Saturday. For now I must be going, Mr. Donnelly. It was pleasant meeting you.” Angus ducked out of the way just in time for Jules to miss him lurking by the door as she came quickly and purposefully out of the smithy, speeding away down the street.
“Papa,” Luke veritably bellowed, his angry tone startling Angus so much that it nearly sent him running. “I know you’re still out there! I need to talk to you right now!”
“I couldn’t help myself from listenin’ in,” Angus responded. “It ain’t a crime. Don’t get so worked up.” He was shocked to see his son throw the bag of ore down with such force that rocks clacked and clattered and spilled out onto the floor. “Luke, son. There’s no need o’ that.”
“You didn’t tell me there was a magician on that mountain!” Angus was so thrown off by this comment that all he did was stare at his son, seeing the anger blazing in his eyes, his shoulders rising and falling with the fury coursing through him.
“He built his tower about two years ago... Luke, what’s the matter? I just don’t understand--”
“I don’t want nothin’ to do with it. With no elixirs, no potions, no spells,” he shouted, spitting each word out and kicking the bag of rocks as he did. “Nothin’ to do with it! You know what that stuff does? It kills. All it’s good for is killin’. And I ain’t gonna let what I do go into that kinda... stuff!” He turned away, panting, but he was finally still and silent otherwise. Angus had never seen Luke behave this way, not even as a child; he was a sensitive boy – got it from his mother – and was more prone to real tears than tantrums. Warily, Angus said nothing, but went over to the water basin and fished out a cup and slowly approached his son.
“Take a drink of water.” He almost expected to be slapped silly, but Luke slowly turned and wordlessly took the cup, taking one sip and then another, the anger in his eyes gradually dulling. Then he put down the cup and looked away, like a little boy caught in the midst of a trick.
“I’m sorry, Papa. I lost it, big time. You just don’t understand. What I saw...” He trailed off, shook his head, and then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Never mind.” Angus decided not to press him.
“You still took Jules’ order.”
“I ain’t fillin’ it,” he responded gruffly, stepping over the bag of stones and going to the pile of tools. “I’ll give her that junk back when she comes on Saturday. She’s gonna have to go without.”
“Son, you can’t just refuse orders--”
“I can do what I like, Papa. It’s my shop now.” Angus sighed inwardly. He knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere with this situation, and he’d known Jules for the entire length of time she and the wizard had lived up on the mountain. She was a bit quirky, but completely harmless. The girl didn’t deserve that kind of treatment.
“Guess I’ll do it myself.” There was a pause.
“Do whatever you want.”
“I’m takin’ the payment.”
“I don’t want her filthy money anyway.” Angus sighed one more time, gathered the rocks in the bag and placed them somewhere out of the way. He’d come into the shop after hours and prepare Jules’ order. She was a good customer, and he knew she and Jebeus didn’t have any alternatives; she ran most of the errands for the two of them, as the wizard was elderly and rarely made it down the mountain. She’d been coming to the shop for two years, now. He couldn’t think of turning her away.
After mumbling a quick goodbye to his son, he headed back to the house and slunk into the kitchen where Mona was preparing soup and crusty bread for lunch.
“How’s he doin’?” she asked, stirring the pot, and he sighed.
“He was doin’ good, ‘til he wasn’t,” Angus murmured. “Completely flipped his lid when he found out ol’ Jebeus lives up in the mountain and Jules comes down for stuff couple times a week.”
“What?” Mona asked incredulously, turning away from the soup to look at him. “Why?”
“...I dunno. He said this stuff about magic bein’ fer killin’ and he don’t want nothin’ to do with it.” He met his wife’s eyes. “I’m guessin’ this is about the war and he ain’t never gonna tell us.”
“Oh.” Her grey eyes – the same as Luke’s – filled with sadness and she turned away for a moment before covering her mouth with her hand. “I-I don’t like to see him hurtin’, Angus.”
“I know. I know. Neither do I,” he replied gently. “He needs more time. Right now, I’m going to do Jules’ order. I don’t wanna turn her away.”
“She’s been coming to see you for a few years, now.”
“Yeah, and she’s a good girl. Weird, but alright. I think weird is part of the job description when yer learnin’ about them magic things.” Mona chuckled softly, but her expression quickly went back to being sombre.
“I just hope our boy gets better, not worse,” she managed, and Angus looked at his hands and nodded.
“Me too.”