Michael
“This is not a very nice place to find a good smith,” Theodore said with a raised eyebrow while looking at the rundown buildings.
“You brought us here,” Michael pointed out humorously. “And I don’t think it is that bad.” Just as he said that a man came out of a tavern, not quite sure on his feet, and vomited against a wall.
“Well, how did you find this smith anyway,” Michael changed the subject after giving the man a wide berth while passing. They had visited a couple of smiths already in the last three days and managed to recruit some of the journeymen who hoped to get out of their master’s clutches.
“He is supposed to be a master smith but seemingly had a bad run-in with the smiths guild so he was forced to do his work for cheap because they bullied him out of the good markets. Sounds to me like quality expertise that you can get for cheap,” Theodore explained with a satisfied grin.
“Depends on why he had a run-in with the guild,” Michael commented and noticed that most people were giving him, Theodore, and their escort a lot of space. Seeing five knights and Eydis tailing them seemingly convinced even the most brash thug to stay far away.
“As far as I got told he wanted to open up a shop but the guild said that the district was already full, but he didn’t care,” Theodore said with a shrug.
Michael raised an eyebrow at this, “You mean he got shunned just because he wanted to open up his shop in the general district where other smiths had their smithy?”
“That’s how the guilds work. They make sure that there is as little competition between their members as possible and to bully out any non-members. That is why it is so hard for a journeyman to become a master because one master would have to die to open up a spot in a city.”
Of course, Michael knew in essence what guilds did, but he seemingly hadn’t grasped the dark side of them. He had thought that they were mostly a support system for their members and made sure that there was a baseline quality that every member had to meet. It was quite comfortable not having to compete with any other tradespeople, but comfort had rarely bred progress.
Michael decided to ask Solon about it later and look into the guild system to get a full overview. He was already going to reform vast parts of the systems and traditions in his lands so what was one more?
He pushed the subject to the back of his head for now as they approached a building that stood out from the rest. It wasn’t beautiful in any sense of the word but at least it was clean and not overly damaged as most others around here were. A large sign with an anvil on it hung over the door and smoke came out of the chimney in the back of the house where Michael guessed the smithy was located.
Theodore had a slight look of disdain on his face as he saw the house. It was natural, he had lived most of his life in the palace so a rundown house in a bad district was definitely not his taste. Michael on the other hand came from a frontier town and lived a few years in it, he had a much higher tolerance for what constituted as rundown.
Michael stepped forward but then stopped when his whole escort followed him. “Let’s not frighten the poor man by having a whole war party rush into his store, okay,” he said with an amused tone.
So, in the end, only Sir Zeke, Eydis, and Theodore’s knight, a gruff old knight by the name of Vorn, entered with their wards while Silas, Erhen, and Lance waited outside.
“I don’t understand why you have to show off with such a large personal guard,” Theodore joked. “Even my father doesn’t travel around with five augmenters.”
Michael shrugged with a chuckle and said, “I tend to get into trouble wherever I go.”
“Huh, when I think about it, the only time I nearly died in my life was with you,” Theodore said and looked at Michael who chuckled.
“That wasn’t my only time,” Michael replied bluntly and stepped inside. The inside was a well-maintained showroom. It was small, nothing compared to the renowned craftsmen that line the market streets in the better parts of the city but there was not a spec of dirt anywhere. A counter split the room and behind it stood a bear of a man, nearly two meters tall and packed with muscles like most smiths.
The knights took position next to the door while Eydis browsed the display items. Michael was too focused on the smith, even if he was perhaps the largest man he had ever seen, the man looked nervous, very nervous.
“Welcome, milords. How can I help you,” he said with a slightly shaky voice. The smith was seemingly trying to keep his nerves, but Michael was still curious. It wasn’t unnormal that people were nervous in the presence of nobles and definitely noble teenagers as they often tended to be spoiled brats who were yelling for heads as soon as something wouldn’t meet their whims and wishes. It wasn’t strange that someone was nervous, but a master smith living in Lionsgate not being used to nobles was odd.
Michael pushed mana into his senses, he had found that it was easier to judge people if you could pick up on all those small split-second expressions they made.
When Michael didn’t start talking, Theodore quickly stepped forward and introduced them. Michael wasn’t paying attention very much to the words but more to the man, he was still trying to force himself to remain calm.
The sound of straining wood reached Michael’s enhanced hearing; it was quiet, too quiet for him to hear if he hadn’t increased his senses. His eyes wandered to the door in the back left corner of the room and something metallic blinked at him, not overly surprising in a smithy.
The sound continued for a moment longer while Michael tried to see more but then was replaced by the crashing sound of wood moving out of an immensely tense position.
Michael’s eyes widened, he reflexively fully opened the mana floodgates and started casting a light barrier. It would never finish before the arrow reached him, so he swung his right arm up to protect himself.
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The arrow collided with the enchanted armguard Michael was wearing and deflected to the left a little. A surge of pain went through him as the arrow pierced his shoulder, causing him to tumble back into the wall where the arrow dug deep into the wood and fixated him.
Michael groaned from the pain but did his best to keep his building sigil intact, he had experience with casting under stress. If he wasn’t in a life-or-death situation he would have probably been reminded of the times when Kiran had stood behind him with a stick while practicing.
The second arrow followed only a moment later, but that moment was enough for the bodyguards to spring into action. Sir Zeke blocked the arrow with his warhammer, the loud echoing noise only reinforced what Michael already knew painfully well, the shooter was definitely an augmenter with an appropriate bow.
Sir Vorn had positioned himself in front of Theodore in a heartbeat, who was still trying to figure out what exactly was happening, as everything was unfolding in only a few moments.
Michael’s barrier flickered into existence; it was angled to the roof in front of Sir Zeke. There was no doubt that this barrier couldn’t stop an arrow of this kind of force but with the angle, it would easily redirect it into a harmless direction.
The third arrow never came, Eydis had already leapt over the counter toward the door, where the arrows had come from. She vanished through it and a moment later a small anvil returned, smashing into the counter with the sound of wood splintering.
The rest of his guards barged into the room at this moment, their weapons drawn and eyes jumping from side to side looking for the attacker.
“Restrain him,” Sir Zeke bellowed and pointed at the smith who was cowering in a corner mumbling something incoherent. He then turned to Michael while Silas covered them and inspected his wound.
“This is going to hurt,” he said and grabbed the arrow close to the wound.
“Just do it,” Michael growled back. He yelped at the pain when the knight broke the arrow off and pulled him off the wall. Michael immediately pressed a part of his cloak on the wound while Zeke inspected the exit wound.
“It cut straight through, you should be fine,” Zeke concluded and started bandaging up the wound.
“Michael! Are you alright,” Theodore yelled as he rushed toward him.
“Should be fine. I am much more durable than I look like.” He had already started pushing mana into his shoulder to stop the bleeding as soon as possible.
“Why is it that every time I go into the city with you, something dangerous happens,” the older boy complained at which Michael couldn’t help but laugh a little.
“And how come that I am always the one that has to take the brunt of it? Can’t you take the arrow next time,” he joked. Theodore looked at him incredulously for a moment then he said sarcastically, “You are an idiot, Michael. I will try my best to jump in front of you next time.”
Even if Michael was putting up a humorous front for Theodore, internally he was trembling. The wound hurt like hell but the thought that he would have died if he hadn’t deflected the arrow made his heart beat like the hoofs of a cavalry charge. This was way too close, if the smith had been a better actor, then Michael would have been pinned to the wall like some kind of trophy.
Eydis returned a few minutes later with a dissatisfied expression and signed, “Couldn’t get him. He is fast and strong.”
This concerned Michael even more, someone who could escape Eydis so quickly with such a small headstart was indeed dangerous. That such a dangerous individual was out for Michael’s head didn’t bode well.
At least the smith wasn’t in on it, he said that the man had his family which was easily proven when they found them tied up upstairs. The man was handed over to the city watch anyway once they arrived for further questioning.
- A while later in the palace –
“I promise we will not rest until the assassin is found,” Zen assured him while sitting on the side of Michael’s bed. He had been forced into bedrest by royal order, but he estimated that with his own augmenting and the attention of the Order of Purity healer, he should be back to full health in a couple of days.
“Do you have any idea who could have sent the man,” Sir Gavin Strom asked. The room was full of people, not only Zen and the knight commander but also the three dukes, the rest of the royal family, Theodore with his father, and Archpriest Patheros with the mentioned healer.
Of course, Michael could take some guesses as to whom the assassin belonged to, but he would never voice those opinions, especially since two of the three most likely subjects were present in the room with Duke Wulfen and Archpriest Patheros. Of both of them, he felt like the clergymen was a more likely prospect but there was still his uncle to consider.
“I would assume that it is the same person who is responsible for the demise of the rest of House Rowan coming to finish the job,” Patheros suggested. “I heard that Count Grim was the one that you and many of your vassals suspect of being the mastermind behind that, Lord Michael?”
“There is no proof for that and the accusations have been made in the heat of the moment,” Duke Wallsten quickly interjected before Michael could say something.
The discussion was nipped in the bud by this before it could really start and after Michael assured them that he had no idea who could be behind this they started to clear out one by one.
Zen left with Duke Wulfen and Commander Strom to check in on the progress of the search. Duke Wallsten, Greeich, and the queen mother left while deep in conversation. Count Gretten and Theodore left, and the count looked furious, if that was directed at Michael, Theodore, the assassin, or all of them Michael didn’t know. Lastly, Archpriest Patheros left after the healer had determined his work done for the day.
In the end, it was only Michael and Mira who remained in silence. Michael didn’t pay her attention; he was much more focused on his own thoughts that ran rampant. After the adrenaline had settled, he had started panicking more, the attempted assassination had pulled him back into the scenes from a few months ago in his own home.
“Are you okay,” Mira asked quietly.
Michael blinked and smiled at her to ease her concerns. “Oh, I am fine. Not the first time that someone tried to kill me.”
“Don’t lie to me please.” Michael was taken aback by the accusation, mostly because it was true, but he prided himself on being quite good at putting up a front.
“I mean it, I am fine. You don’t need to worry,” he doubled down and gave her his nicest smile.
She looked at him sadly for a while and Michael could see that she didn’t believe a word. After sitting like this for a minute she slowly shook her head and said, “I can feel that you are not fine.”
She can feel it?
How would he even explain what he was feeling? Even if he found the words would he have the strength to speak them? Neither worked out for him in this moment so stayed silent.
After a few minutes of silence, Mira crawled onto the bed and plopped herself right next to him, shoulder to shoulder.
“You don’t have to tell me about it,” she finally said and grabbed his hand. “But you need to know that I am here for you, Zen and Theodore as well. I am gonna take a daring step and say that I do know a glimpse of what you are going through and even if it is rich coming from me, don’t let it eat you up from the inside, talk to someone before you go to a dark place.”
Michael wondered what she meant by it being ‘rich’ coming from her, but the thought was quickly buried under the rest of his tumultuous mind.
“I am a little bit shaken right now but I will be fine,” he finally admitted.
Mira smiled and pressed his hand with hers. “Of course, you will be, you are the strongest boy I ever met.”
Michael met her smile, without friends like the ones he had he would have certainly gone mad or stayed mad when remembering the days after the corpses of his family had been brought back.
Mira put her head on his shoulder, the not-injured one, and they stayed like that, telling stories of their families until Michael fell asleep from exhaustion and pain.