Avalon 8.9 Metal Men, part 3 of 4

Three well-armed lords rode up to the blacksmith shop shortly after sunrise.  John sat at the stone and sharpened the sword, one side and the other, and ignored the riders.  The men tied their horses to the railing that made the small penned in area where John and his men’s horses waited.  The three wandered into the smithy area and the gruff one spoke.

“Blacksmith.  Sir Guy’s horse appears to have picked up a stone.”  He paused and watched John put the finishing touches on sharpening the sword and asked a question.  “How much do you charge for sharpening a sword, and maybe a knife as well?”

John looked and paused a moment as his mind figured out who was talking to him.  Meanwhile, the one John figured was Sir Guy pointed at the horses in the pen and identified them as Flemish horses.  “I recognize the saddles,” he said.

“I’m not sure,” John said, coyly.  The blacksmith came out of the back room and Gerald, the apprentice, paused in whatever he was doing to join his master.  “Blacksmith.  What do you charge for sharpening the instruments of war?”

The blacksmith took one look at his three guests and bowed deeply.  Gerald bowed half-heartedly, not sure what was going on.  “My lords, it would be an honor to prepare your weapons for battle.”

“Now, none of that,” John said.  “A man is worthy of his labor.  Your normal price will do.”  He turned to shout toward the side of the back building.  “Richard.”  A man dressed in Flemish armor stuck his head around the edge of the building.  “Hugh, fetch Sir Richard.”  Hugh waved and disappeared for a moment.  He came back with another man who did not appear to be awake.

John swung the sword in the air with some evident skill.  He liked the feel of the weapon and handed it to Richard with a word.  “There.  This beast of a sword will take off a Saxon head and not break in the process.”

Richard took the sword and smiled.  Then he woke up enough to see the three lords staring at him.  He gasped and bowed like the blacksmith.  “Duke William,” he said.  The three men said nothing, but the third man, who had said nothing so far, stared at John like he was trying to figure something out.  John helped the man out.

“Hello Uncle Roger,” John said.  “How is Aunt Mabel?”

“Oliver’s son,” Roger responded without a smile.

“You know this blacksmith?” William asked.

“Blacksmith John.  That’s me, though Father always insisted on the name John de Bellleme.”

Something clicked in William’s mind as Sir Guy spoke.  “But you are not Flemish.”

“Well,” John said as he dipped his hands in the water barrel and splashed his face to clean off some soot.  “I am sort of Flemish at this point, or at least my wife is.  Emmelina is the grandniece of Baldwin one or two times removed.  You see, Uncle Baldwin—my wife’s uncle—gave me a new name.  I think he wanted to cover up the details of our background, but I told him it would not do him any good.  My father is still Oliver de Belleme, but now it is Walter de Hesdin.  Baldwin made him the Comte of Hesdin.  I am officially Ernulf de Hesdin, and will no doubt inherit the lands if my Father dies before me.”

“Why are you here?”  Uncle Roger did not look happy, and added the words, “Bastard son of a bastard son.”

“Careful.”  John looked at William.  He grinned a little and William had to cover his own grin.  “My Lord Duke.  I have some three hundred men from Brittany, my old stomping ground, camped on the West side of town.  They are under the command of my childhood friends, Richard and Hugh.  I have ships on the way, and the men of Flanders are gathering at St. Valery sur Somme on the coast, and a bunch of more ships.  You know, you put Uncle Baldwin in an awkward position.  He has supported the Anglo-Saxon crown for years, though mostly as an ally against invading Norsemen and Danes.  He wants to support you in your quest, but he honestly cannot do so directly.  So, he decided since my father is of Norman blood, he should represent Flanders and lead those who will join on this adventure.  Sadly, my father is talking about going into a monastery since my stepmother, Emma died.  Thus, it fell upon my shoulders to lead this charge.”

“How many men are we talking about?” Sir Guy wanted to know.

“At least a thousand,” John said, but his eyes remained on William.  “Uncle Baldwin does want to support you as much as he can, if not the least for the sake of his daughter, your wife Matilda.  He told me to ask how she is doing, by the way.”

William was thinking, but he came out of his reverie to say, “Fine.  She is doing well.”

“The old man can only do so much,” John said.  “But he clearly cares about his children, and his extended family.  Meanwhile, the old man’s son is a piece of cow manure.  I am sure when the old man dies, I will lose Hesdin.”  He stared at Roger.  “And be homeless once again.”

Roger said nothing, but William had something to say.  “You give me good service, you and the men of Flanders, and the men of Brittany.”  He paused to include Richard and Hugh.  “And I will see that you are not left homeless.”

“Yes, your majesty.  Thank you, your majesty,” John said, and to Roger’s and Sir Guy’s curious stares, he explained, “Just practicing.”  William let out the full grin when a red-headed young woman ran up and hugged him.  She went around the shop hugging every man in the shop.  When she got to John, John said, “Ugh,”

Boston backed up, pointed at him, and said, “You must be John.”

“Ugh,” John repeated and waved.  “Lockhart, good and bad timing as usual.  There is nothing history shattering going on at the moment, but in two or three days, I have three hundred men who will be taking ship for St. Valery sur Somme on the coast of Flanders.  I hope the time gate won’t end up somewhere out in the channel.”

Lockhart and Katie, Lincoln and Alexis, Decker and Nanette all arrived.  They walked at a casual pace but came armed and ready.  Sukki, Tony, and Elder Stow straggled behind.  Lockhart took up the telling.

“We spent the last three days following Englebroad, Hoffen, and Budman from Charlemagne’s day, and when we got to town, we found the same doctor from Constantinople and also from Genevieve’s day, so that would make this at least his third lifetime.  Don’t know what name he goes by in this time zone.”

Katie clarified.  “Baron Edgar, his two knights, Hubert and Bernard, and the doctor.”

“Edgar?” William asked and looked up at Katie before he turned to look at John.

John shook his head.  “They have to be prevented from whatever they are plotting.  Well, at least there are no alien people this time.”

“Not true,” Decker said.

Lincoln spoke.  “Elder Stow picked up an unknown life form on his scanner, and a bunch of electronic-type equipment, but it is in a covered wagon and so far, we have not been able to get a look to see what it is.”

“My guess is the doctor has been keeping it alive, whatever it is,” Alexis said.

“Damn,” John said

“What?” William asked, like he might demand an answer if one was not forthcoming.  Roger and Sir Guy had the same look on their faces.

“It is kind of difficult to explain,” Lockhart said, as he looked back and saw Tony and Suki stopped to watch a stall being set up in front of a jewelry shop.  Elder Stow stopped with them.  He looked further and saw Baron Edgar, his two knights, a couple of soldiers, and the wagon on the road.  “Damn,” he said it himself.

************************

Don’t Forget Tomorrow’s post to end the episode

*

Avalon 8.9 Metal Men, part 2 of 4

Lord John Ernulf de Belleme de Hesdin came in the night and took over a local blacksmith shop shortly before dawn.  He decided the half-dozen men who rode in with him needed better weapons.  One in particular needed a sword that would not crack on first contact, and John was an excellent blacksmith.

‘I learned many things growing up on the road with my father.  Blacksmithing is a good and honorable trade,” he told the blacksmith as he worked on the sword.  “My father was an illegitimate son, and so was I, but I find John the Blacksmith a much better name than John the Bastard.  I’ll let Duke William keep that title.  Honestly, I like to believe my father would have married my mother, but the times being what they are… She got raped and killed by one of the armies that went through the neighborhood.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”  The man had some sympathy.

“Well…”  John shrugged.  “So, my uncle, my father’s younger brother, threw his father, my grandfather off the land and took over.  My poor grandfather wandered for a long time and took my aunt with him.  Father and I wandered in the opposite direction, because, frankly, my grandfather got what was coming to him.  Everybody hated the man.  He was cruel, mean, rotten, just plain evil… I believe my aunt is worse.  She learned from the master and is trying to outdo him.”

“So, they settled somewhere,” the blacksmith pointed out.

“Oh, yeah.  Those two conniving, manipulative jerks wouldn’t stay down.  No.  Grandfather put my aunt in an advantageous marriage.  He promised the man’s family the land if they helped him get it back.  Fat chance they would ever get the land if he got it back, but they had the connections.  You know what I mean?  So suddenly, my father’s younger brother mysteriously dies at a fairly young age, and grandfather gets the land back.”

“And you did not go home?”

“Not a chance,” John said.  “Grandfather got ill.  No one has heard from him, or anything about him in these last five years.  My aunt rules the house and my father and I get nothing.”

“Your father’s name?”

“Oliver.  Well.  We left Brittany and crossed over the land by way of Paris.  Ever been to Paris?  The place stinks.  I went looking for artisans on the left bank.  All I found was manure.  On the left bank, the right bank, mucking up the river.  Hey, if you ever go there, don’t drink the water.”  John paused to let out a little laugh and hammer the metal.  He dunked it, making a great volume of steam.  “Needs sharpening.”

“But what happened?” the blacksmith asked.  “How dd you come to be here?”

“Eh?”  John had to think.  “Well, first we went to Brittany.  We wandered through Normandy, stayed away from the troubles in Maine, and went back to Brittany.  I made friends there and we were not unhappy, but when we heard grandfather was sick, I think my aunt wanted us out of the picture.  We escaped to France and eventually got to Flanders.  There, we lucked out.  We got a piece of land.  All Father had to do was marry the niece of the landowner.  She was a big, fat, hard to look at girl that nobody wanted.  Emma.  But she turned out to be a very nice, kind, and gentle soul.  I guess you really can’t tell by appearances.  Anyway, she got sick, and when she died, Father mourned her.  He is seriously talking about becoming a monk.  Go figure.”

“But why are you here?”

“Well.  Father and I helped William a couple of times in his days of trouble.  I was young, but Father supported the duke.  He would not remember me, but Father said William was gruff and greedy, but a loyal lord who actually cares about his people.  You don’t mind fighting for a man like him.  Most Lords are just greedy.  They know nothing about being faithful or caring for others.  I’m not saying William is perfect, but what else am I doing with my life?  If I am going to fight for someone…” he did not finish the sentence.  “William is attempting to achieve something great.  Let’s say I want to see how it is going to turn out.”

“But, what about the Flemish landowner? Might you fight for him?”

John thought for a second.  “Yeah, maybe,” he said.  “He was nice to us, but he is old.  Probably doesn’t have many years left, and his son is a different breed.  I don’t know about him.  Besides, the landowner is getting more out of the deal than just getting my father to marry a poor unwanted girl.”

“What?”

“He knows my father will keep my aunt, and by extension, her husband away from his land.  He knows if his land gets invaded, my father and I will be first in line to drive the invaders out.  We will do it by ourselves if we have to.”

The blacksmith sat for a while thinking about what John told him.  John picked up the sword and swung it a couple of times.  He about decided he and the sword were ready for round two when the man asked a question.  “You are obviously young and very strong.  I have no doubt you are a great fighter.  But how can you and your father drive invaders from the land by yourselves.  And who is your aunt and her husband to have such men to invade a land in the first place.”

“Hey, Gerald.  Pump up the heat on the furnace, will you?”

“Yes, Lord John.”

“Lord John?”

John wiped his hands on a cloth.  “I guess I didn’t explain that part well.  Maybe because it doesn’t matter to me.  I told the important parts.  My name is John, but also Ernulf de Hesdin.  I was given the Ernulf name by the landowner.  It was his grandfather’s name.  My father is the Count of Hesdin, but he was only made the count by Baldwin V of the House of Flanders six years ago.  Until then he was Oliver de Belleme.  Mable de Belleme is my aunt, and her husband is Roger de Montgomery who grew up with William as one of the duke’s best friends.  I met Roger once.  He seemed very nice.  I’m so sorry he married my aunt.”  John looked carefully at the lines of the blade to be sure the blade was straight and knick free.  He tested the weight and balance by feel.

“The Flemish and Normans have had a kind of love-hate relationship for years.  Baldwin would rather not fight another Norman invasion of his lands.  Heck, he gave his daughter Matilda to William for a wife, just to make peace.  But then, Baldwin never expected William to set his sights on England.  Baldwin has been a great supporter of the Anglo-Saxon throne in England for a long time.  It is a quandary for him, but he figures since I am originally of Belleme blood, I can take a reasonable number of men and give Flanders a good showing in the invasion force.”  John shrugged.

“My Lord,” the blacksmith tried to bow, but John yelled.

“Stop that.  Between you and me I am Blacksmith John, and that is enough.”  He huffed as he stepped to the stone.  “Mind you, I wouldn’t mind if you cleaned the handle.  This blade is almost ready.”

“Certainly,” the blacksmith said.

###

Back in the traveler’s camp, Boston got up with the sun.  She felt good.  Madam Figiori explained to her that light elves lived from dawn to dusk.  They got up a little before the sun rose and went to bed a little after the sunset.  The dark time was the time for sleep, even in the north country where the dark time might be fourteen or more hours in the winter.  That was sleep time.  Boston understood that, instinctively, but no one ever explained it to her before in so many words.  In their short time together, Madam Figiori explained a lot of things out loud that Boston felt but never actually verbalized.

“Come on, sleepy,” Sukki poked her head in the tent.  “You are going to miss the sunrise.”

Boston sprang out of bed and went first to the fire.  She put on a log and caused the flame to make a good start while Sukki prepared the pot of fake-coffee-tea.  To be honest, Sukki did not exactly know what coffee was, but from the way Lockhart and the others talked about it, she was looking forward to trying some—that and chocolate.

Boston and Sukki sat facing the east where the sun rose.  Elder Stow decided against a nap that morning.  He worked on his screen device instead.  For the present, his scanner was functioning about as well as could be expected for a toy.  But there were still several adjustments he wanted to work into the screens.  A Decker wall, for instance.  He also had a thought and decided to experiment.  He tuned one of his discs and tossed it beside the girls and waited.  He tried not to whistle.

Boston and Sukki were not impressed with that particular sunrise.  It was plain, about a five or six, and Sukki suggested it might have been better rising over the sea.  Boston shrugged and got up.  She headed toward the fire but banged her head into the screen.  She shouted.

“Hey, Elder Stow.”  She scolded the elder as Sukki got up to feel all around where the screen projected.  They appeared to be trapped in a complete bubble.  They could stand and walk a few paces in each direction, but it was like a screen prison.  Of course, Boston could phase right through the screens, which she did as Sukki complained.

“Father.  I have to get the food started.”

Elder Stow stood there, grinning.  He held the screen device in his hand and Boston wondered if he had some way of projecting the screen.

“How did you…” Boston started to ask how he did that, but the answer came to her, so she turned to Sukki.  “Look at your feet,” she said.  “Look for a disc.  He tuned the disc to the screen device.  I didn’t know he could do that, but that must be it.”

Suki looked around her feet.  Elder Stow quickly turned off the screen device and said, “Careful. The discs are very sturdy, fireproof, crush proof and all that, but they can be broken.  We have a limited number and may need them in the future.”  He walked to where the disc landed and retrieved it.

Sukki smiled for him.  “You are the most brilliant father a girl ever had,” she said and kissed his cheek before she went to work on the food.

Boston already flitted to a new topic in her elf mind.  “I’m going to go invisible today and see what is in that wagon.  Want to come?”

Elder Stow and Sukki looked at each other.  They did not think that was a good idea.  Elder Stow spoke.  “It would be dangerous with that doctor and Engel, Hoffen and Budman around.  We should at least wait until everyone can discuss their ideas.”

Boston flitted on, like it was a done deal.  She pulled out her amulet, her morning habit, though in this case she was not double-checking their direction.  Instead, she wanted to see how far away the Kairos was.  She jumped.  “Hey! The Kairos is already in town.  He must have come in overnight.”

“Stay,” Sukki yelled in case Boston was thinking about racing across town.  She put her hands up like a traffic cop.

Elder Stow agreed.  “Wait until the others are up and have their breakfast.  Then we can all go there together.”

Boston harumphed and went to the tents to begin waking people up.