Thad made good on his word and asked the two so many questions about their village and customs that they could barely get a word in edgewise for most of the journey.
"Wrestling? What is that? I've never heard of it."
"What? It's not our only sport, but it is our greatest!" Bezben said. He was always up for a bout and, more importantly, always looking for someone he could beat in a match. "I can give you a lesson when we get to town."
"That sounds marvelous."
Uzca listened to Bezben talk about the greatest wrestlers in the village, his father, Menza, chief among them. In truth, Menza was very skilled and could beat Uzca without the tricks. Uzca noted that his cousin didn't include him in the list of the best, despite the fact that he was undefeated over the last two years, bouts with Menza excluded.
"And what is the result of this ranking? Do you have a championship? Does the winner get some kind of honors or prizes?"
Bezben looked at him like he was crazy. "What? No, of course not. We wrestle because it's fun and a way to show off our strength and skill. Winning is nice, and we all look up to the best, but it doesn't matter."
Uzca was surprised to hear that. He thought Bezben was only concerned with winning bouts. Maybe that was just the familial rivalry.
"Interesting. All of our lowland sports have championships. The winners usually get a monetary prize. They even tried setting up a mages league for some sport they made up. Spellball? Spellstrike? It was Spell-something—I don't remember. Anyway, the league fell through because mages didn't much care for using their magic like that. It seemed rather superfluous, a way for a select few to show off. I think they still play the sport in some academy cities but only recreationally."
They passed the occasional building now. Orzii lined both sides of the moderately wide river here. They had a few stout bridges, and the river was full of logs. On one side of the river, just past the buildings, stretched a great forest, most likely the source of the logs, Uzca guessed. The side of the river they were on was a continuation of the great plain they had just crossed. A look over his shoulder and Uzca could guess where in the distant hills they had come out of the forest. It wasn't all that far away.
Mills lined the river, and most of them were hives of activity. Men hurried about, hauling logs out of the river with great pikes and pulleys and feeding them into giant saws powered by water wheels—like the mill they saw in Donarin.
"Do you do work down here too?" Uzca asked Thad, changing the subject from sports.
"I do! I work all along this river and occasionally head up into Donarin. There's a bakery there that has the absolute best pastries."
"Oh, I think we stopped there."
"Wait!" Bezben said, stopping. The others stopped and turned to look at him. "You're telling me that's the best lowlands bakery? We're not going to find more pastries that good?"
"I'm afraid not."
"Uzca, maybe we should go back? Do you really need to find your family?"
Uzca rolled his eyes at his cousin.
"What's that? You're trying to find your family?"
They had trusted Thad so far, so Uzca guessed there wasn't any harm in letting him know, so Uzca told him. From the night that it happened, to the imperative of his god, to his father admitting that he suspected the culprit. Thad asked a few pointed questions about his interaction with Rethkam, but he didn't say much otherwise.
"And you think they're in Telestria?"
"It's a place to start. That's my mother's hometown. She was the daughter of a wealthy merchant. Eventually, she fell in love with my Pa and moved to the mountains. Her father stopped visiting after that."
"What was her family name before marrying your father?"
"Rossenal. My grandfather was Alocain. I never met him, though."
"Rossenal, yes, I think that name sounds familiar, but I can't put my finger on it. I grew up in Telestria and went to school in the city, so I may have heard of your grandfather or his family during my time there."
They entered Orzii proper and found a small but busy town square. Shops lined the busy hub with doors open wide. A general din of bartering and haggling filled the air. Children splashed around in a two-tiered fountain pool at the center of the square, under the watchful eye of a caretaker.
"Here we are! Orzii! This town is known for its lumber production and is the farthest upriver of any town on the Meglemen. That's the river, of course. If you'd like, I can look into transport for you. I'm quite familiar with everyone in town and know who to ask. All of today's caravans would have all left at first light, so you'll probably have to wait for the next ones to arrive tonight and depart tomorrow."
Uzca nodded. "That would really help us out. Thanks, Thad. What do you think, Bez? Can we find something to do in town today?"
"I think I see a blacksmith. Should we see about a weapon for me?"
"That's probably a good idea."
"Great," Thad said, "I'll leave you two to it then. Explore the town, take care of your business, and I'll meet you back in the town square, say, an hour before sunset? We can get some dinner, and I'll let you know what I've found. In the meantime, I have a couple of mill repairs that probably need attending. I'll see you later."
They waved farewell for now to Thad, and then Bezben dragged Uzca toward the sound of a hammer striking metal. It was a familiar sound to Uzca, and though they hadn't been gone long, it brought up a homesick feeling. He'd never left home for very long, and certainly not with the intent to be gone for months.
The man running the forge was a big man, as blacksmiths tended to be, and he wore a heavy leather apron and gloves. When he saw the pair walk up, he jerked his head toward the building. They got the message and entered.
Uzca's father didn't run a shop, but other villages did, and they were both familiar with the concept. The room was small but absolutely packed with weapons and armor. It was on mannequins, hung on the wall, and slotted into racks filling the room. There was even a glass display case at the end of the room that doubled as a counter. A boy sat behind the counter and worked on a drawing.
"Good day!" Uzca said to the boy, who hadn't looked up.
The boy continued to ignore him.
"Hey!" Bezben said. "I need a spear!"
The boy continued his drawing, not even glancing at the pair.
Bezben just shook his head and rolled his eyes, walking over to a rack full of spears.
Uzca heard a door in the back of the shop open and close, and the blacksmith walked in, wiping off his face with a filthy rag.
"G'day, one sec."
He waved a hand in front of the boy's face, and the boy looked up. Then the man began making complicated gestures, and the boy responded in kind. Then the boy gave a wordless cheer and ran into the back, the door opening and closing a moment later.
"Sorry if you were trying to get his attention. He's deaf and gets focused on his art."
"That's alright," Uzca said. He'd not dealt directly with anyone who couldn't hear, but he knew one of the neighboring villages had a whole family who was deaf.
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"So, what can I do for the two of you?"
"I need a spear!" Bezben called from across the shop.
The blacksmith laughed. "At least he knows what he wants."
He made his way out from behind the counter, and they joined Bezben looking over the wares.
"A spear? Not much demand for those around here—wagoneers mostly. Good for taking down boars that might get a little too friendly. Do you have any experience with one? No judgment, just want to guide you to the right weapon."
Bezben considered, and Uzca hoped he wouldn't share his gift.
"Not really. But I admire them and want to learn."
"Good enough. Any weapon experience?"
"I've been practicing with this walking stick," Bezben touched the stick slung across his back, held in place by the traveling bag he still wore.
"Hmm. That'll be a lot different than a spear. The weight will be completely different. If you want to learn, I suggest putting that away and only training with the spear you buy. Most of what I have in stock will be good for a beginner. Stay away from these four or five at the end. They're specialized and will be a pain if you don't know what you're doing."
The spears the blacksmith showed them had shafts made from solid hardwood, treated, oiled, and wrapped with leather. The spearheads were where the differences came in. They had different sized heads in various shapes and even a selection of metals.
"I recently got a shipment of steel, so this is one of my newer creations. That blade will be strong and sharp. You'll want a stone for sharpening if you put any use on it, but you won't need to do it every time it rains or gets wet, or you manage to stab something. The steel will resist the elements a little better. It's not as soft as the bronze or as brittle as the iron."
"Is it the best?" Bezben asked.
"Hmm. Maybe not. I have one more, but I have to ask, are you willing to spend some real coin?"
"How much are these?"
"Basic iron spear is five marks, steel spear is eight marks, and what I have in back is fourteen marks."
Bezben glanced at Uzca, and Uzca interpreted it to mean, "Do I have enough money?"
"You wouldn't be able to afford the best one. Not unless I give you a few marks," Uzca said out loud. "Let's have a look before I decide."
Bezben nodded. "Let's see it!"
The blacksmith had them wait at the counter, and he ventured into the back, returning with a cloth bundle about a foot long.
"I haven't put it onto a shaft yet. Just finished shaping it the other day."
The blacksmith uncovered an unfamiliar metal, a rarity for Uzca. It looked like steel but had streaks of a bluish hue throughout.
"What is it?"
"The mages have some fancy name for it, but I just call it magic metal. They do something to the steel, put some magic inside of it that makes it stronger and more resistant to wear. You'll find it roughly equivalent to steel, but I can get a better edge on it, and it will hold that edge for ages. You could use this spearhead for as long as you owned one of the iron heads and never need to sharpen it."
Bezben's eyes were alight with a strong desire. Uzca wasn't convinced, though. He was a blacksmith himself, and sharpening a weapon wasn't some great chore.
"Is that all there is to it? Doesn't seem worth nearly double."
"Aye, but it's not something I know much about. Apparently, this type of metal can be a conduit for magic. I'm not sure what that means, and I don't know any mages to find out. But that's one of the reasons for the premium price."
If anything, Bezben looked even more interested. Uzca needed to pull him aside before he spent all his money and traded in his entire bag of gear. Uzca didn't think that would cover the cost, but he didn't want to drag around someone whose only possession was a weapon he didn't know how to use.
"Would you give us a few minutes?"
"Sure. I have to get back to the forge, but you think about it and wave me down when you decide."
Bezben started talking as soon as they were outside.
"Uzca! We have to get that spear. It was meant for me. Plus, it can channel magic. What if it works with my gift?"
They walked past the blacksmith before Uzca stopped to hash out this inevitable argument.
"And does what, Bez? We don't even know if our gifts are compatible with the magic down here. For all we know, it would be incredibly dangerous."
"I'm sure it's fine."
"Uh-huh. Maybe we can ask Thad about it later."
"Orrr, we could go back in and buy it and return it later if it's not good."
"Listen, Bez. I'm not going to spend half our money on a weapon you don't even know how to use. You can spend your money on whatever you want, but you're traveling with me. I don't want to pull around dead weight."
"You know, this is always like you," Bezben glowered.
Here it was. Bezben had been acting remarkably well-behaved and understanding on their trip. Uzca had chalked it up to personal growth. But now the old—or maybe the young—Bezben made an appearance. Selfish and spoiled, the man didn't care what others thought or wanted.
"What? Being a responsible person? We have hundreds of miles to travel, Bez. We're going to have to resupply at some point."
"I can hunt with my spear!"
"And what if there's nothing to hunt? Did you see a lot of animals on the plains just waiting to be stabbed and eaten?"
Bezben threw his arms up into the air and wandered off. Uzca let him. He would burn off some of his anger and be more reasonable when he returned. He noticed the hammering had begun again in the smithy and decided to see if he could make some extra coin. The price of the weapons had him thinking that they might not have enough money for the trip, with or without an expensive spear purchase.
He walked right up to the forge.
"Decide already?" the blacksmith said between the beats of his hammer.
"No, I was just wondering if you needed any help around the forge. I'm a junior blacksmith, studied under my father for more than ten years."
"Hmm. Maybe I could. You ever make horseshoes? Lots of caravans through here, and I can never seem to have enough on hand."
Uzca nodded. They didn't make them often because there weren't many horses in the village, but the occasional traveler stopped and needed one because their steed had lost or broken one.
"Well then, go ahead and get one started. I have some scrap iron there, extra tools, and an anvil just across. You'll have to walk things back and forth, but it should be fine for some horseshoes. Let me see your first attempt, so I know you are what you say you are."
Uzca nodded and got to work. The horseshoes were simple. The more complicated part, and the part he hadn't done, was actually fitting the shoes to the horses. His father always handled that.
Once he figured out where all the supplies he needed were, the work went smoothly. He had his first shoe ready quickly, and the blacksmith nodded his approval.
"Keep making them until you get bored or run out of material."
It turned out that getting bored wasn't a problem. Uzca found the beating of his hammer to be a soothing experience. He always had. Every strike against the metal smoothed out his own turbulent emotions. Maybe he should have listened to Bezben a little better. He probably could have talked him into the fine steel spear without resorting to condescending comments. He was the older man and should lead the way he would want to be led.
Time bled away, and before he knew it, he was out of metal, and the blacksmith was cleaning up the forge.
"You do solid work. Your father must be an accomplished smith, and you must be a good student. Since you're in the business, what do I owe you for the work?"
It wasn't hard work, but it was busy work. He had saved the blacksmith hours of labor he probably didn't want to do. It was probably worth half a mark to the man.
Before he answered, he had a question.
"Why did you forge that metal into a spearhead?"
The blacksmith raised an eyebrow.
"You said spears weren't in high demand, so why make an even more expensive item that you won't be able to sell? Logging is huge here. An axe that didn't need sharpening would be worth much more than a spear."
"Ah. What you say is true. I'm not trying to pull a fast one on you. I recently acquired the metal from someone who failed at making a spear for a client. That metal is hard to reforge, even by master smiths. It was already a spearhead, albeit a bad one, so I reforged it as best I could into the spearhead you saw. It turned out well, but trying to change its shape too much probably would have corrupted the magic inside. It's one of the reasons it's expensive."
"So I'm guessing you got a good deal on it since it was a former failed project."
The blacksmith saw where he was going with this. "I did, but I can't go much lower on the spearhead, I'm afraid. I didn't pay nearly as much as it's worth, and since it will be hard to move, I'm also selling it more cheaply."
"What's your lowest price? No negotiating and factoring in my work here today. If it's fair, I'll buy it. If not, I'll take my half mark and send back my cousin for a steel spear."
Uzca knew the margins on the steel spear would be decent. After all, they weren't a common request, but the people who came in looking for a spear would most likely leave with one, so he'd make sure he made some money off of them.
The blacksmith sighed. "If you attach it to the shaft yourself, I'm willing to go twelve marks. I can't go any lower. At that point, I might as well sell you a steel spear instead.
Twelve was still a lot. His negotiation had taken off a mark and a half, enough for a week of supplies. Still, that meant spending about three weeks' worth of supplies more than a steel spear would cost. In the end, Uzca was traveling with his cousin, whether he liked it or not. Needing to make some money for supplies later was probably a better deal than hearing Bezben's complaints about his inferior steel spear for the next month.
"You have yourself a deal."
The blacksmith left to fetch the spearhead and a shaft, and Uzca counted out the payment. It was most of his own gold coins, but he would take almost all of Bezben's money. It left them poorer overall, but Uzca's coin pouch wasn't taking the hit quite so heavily. If Bezben wanted to spend money on the trip, he would need to figure out how to make money himself.
The exchange happened, and Uzca got to work attaching the spearhead. The shaft was already prepared, so Uzca just slotted it in, then heated a steel bolt to serve as an anchor. He beat both sides of it nearly flush with the wood he had first soaked in water. The fitting was tight, and he was satisfied with the results after quenching the spearhead once more.
Next, he used leather to wrap the base of the spearhead. Leatherwork, even just tying off weapons like this, had never been his strong suit, but again, he felt satisfied after tightening the leather. In the late afternoon sun, the blue-hued metal looked beautiful. The spearhead was a foot long and narrow down its length. It had two cutting edges that ended in a smooth transition to the last bit of metal that entered the spear's shaft.
"Nice work. I can always use an extra hand if you're sticking around town. I want to get my boy into the trade, but he's still a little young to help out more than pump the forge bellows for me."
"I'll consider it, though I do hope we're leaving tomorrow."
"Ah, well. A pity. Good luck on your journey. I hope that spear treats your cousin well."
Uzca covered the weapon with his cloak and then headed off to meet Bezben and Thad in the town square.