17
Nordburg, which Id had once visited as an eight-year-old boy, was a busy city. Since it was like the business center of the Scandia Kingdom’s northeastern region, many merchants visited the town, and many people resided in Nordburg. There were also many outsiders since loggers, hunters, herb collectors and adventurers gathered from all over the continent. As such, it was the issue of security that the Nordburg Government cared about most.
Though the Mayor of the Free City Nordburg, Viscount Levin, had experienced Knights and well-trained guards, it was not enough to handle the security of a city with a population of more than a million. The lumberjacks known for their roughness, the evil-beast hunters and adventurers who were good at fighting were the ones who even the Knights could not belittle. In Nordburg, where security was unstable, everyone had no choice but to take care of his own safety. Andrew and Id headed to the blacksmith’s first.
“It doesn’t help much to train with a wooden sword anymore. From now on, you should train with a real sword so that you can get used to it and feel it as a part of your body. I brought you here since you need a sword that fits your body size.”
They entered the blacksmith’s street. Dozens of blacksmith’s workshops lined each side of the road. The sound of hammers knocking on the iron bars rang out loud here and there. Andrew carefully listened to the iron tapping of the blacksmiths. He used the sword for a long time, and he was interested in blacksmiths’ craft. To an experienced person like Andrew, the sound of an iron tap could help measure the blacksmith's skills.
Andrew stopped in front of a workshop, where exceptionally clean and regular taps were ringing out.
“Let’s go in here and check the swords they made.”
A clerk in his twenties greeted them.
“Are you here to buy a sword?”
“Yes. I’m looking for a sword that fits this boy’s size.”
“Custom-made products, compared to ready-made ones, are expensive. Our workshop is slightly different compared to the other blacksmith’s.”
“I know. It’s hard to produce such sounds unless it’s a dwarf craftsman. I want to meet the blacksmith and talk to him in person.”
The startled clerk led them into the workshop. A dwarf, who was shorter than Id with broad shoulders, was hammering away at an iron bar in front of the red-hot furnace. The clerk interrupted the dwarf’s work and quietly explained the situation to him. When Id, who had never seen a dwarf before, stared at him curiously, the dwarf bluntly said;
“You’re dragging around a kid who’s never even seen a dwarf before as an apprentice? Anyhow, you must at least know your way around swords a little, considering you were able to guess that I was a dwarf just based off of the sounds.
Andrew nodded, smiling.
“Should there be any reason to not be able to tell when the difference is so clear?”
“You speak in a plausible way. Of course, the human race……”
Id tried to retort the dwarf’s rude remarks, but Andrew, who noticed it, raised his hand and stopped Id. A dwarven craftsman like him was likely to have lived for a few centuries. Dwarves, albeit less than the elves, had a much longer lifespan than humans. The dwarf ignored Id and asked Andrew.
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“Are you here for a sword for that kid?”
“Yes. It’s time for him to begin using real swords.”
The dwarf blacksmith took another close look at Id, seemingly sizing him up as his eyes wandered up and down. Lost in thought for a short moment, the dwarf suddenly clapped his hands.
“Yes, I have just the one, don’t I.”
The dwarf blacksmith began to rummage through a rack full of weapons in the corner of the workshop and pulled out a blade that was shorter than a regular longsword.
“The Mayor of Nordburg, Viscount Levin, originally ordered it for his son who’s learning swordsmanship. The Mayor’s son is sixteen years old, so it’s a little long for that kid now. But if I forged a sword that fits him too well, you’ll have to purchase a new one in two years. I made this sword with all my heart and soul, so I’ll guarantee its quality in the name of Blackanvil.”
“Are you the master artisan, Blackanvil? I’m honored to meet you.”
Andrew said with a surprised look. Blackanvil was a well-known master artisan among swordsmen. Andrew, who took the sword, unsheathed it. A bluish blade appeared with a chilling sound. He could feel the intense ardor of the blade just by looking at it.
“It’s an excellent sword, but it’s too sharp to be used for training.”
It was not quite appropriate to use such a sword for regular training. Beginners tended to accidentally cut themselves fairly often in the early stages. It could even lead to severe consequences using such a fine, high-quality sword for everyday training.
“That’s why it was returned. I was asked to blunt the blade, but I couldn’t do that because of my pride. I didn’t want to ruin my masterpiece myself. If someone is too scared to train in the ways of the sword because of the sharpness of his blade, he doesn’t deserve the swords crafted by us dwarves. Eventually, the Mayor gave up on the sword. But a kid who has learned the sword from a swordsman of your level... there shouldn’t be a big problem giving this to him. I’ve already received half of the sword’s price from the Mayor, so if you pay the other half, I’ll sell it to you.”
“How much is it?”
Blackanvil requested fifty golds for the sword. At that price, they could purchase more than a dozen high-quality longswords.
“The sword is definitely worth it. I can’t give you a discount.”
Of course, the sword was perfect. Its center of gravity was well-matched, and the blade was flawless. The pommel and handle were also in perfect balance with the blade. It was a sword made by a dwarven master artisan.
‘With a sword like this, fifty golds is by no means a high price.’
Andrew, who agreed with Blackanvil inwardly, looked at Id.
“Would you like to grip the sword?”
Id picked up the sword with trembling hands. The hilt was a little long and thick for Id’s hand, but he liked the sword, and it felt as if it were made for him. Id spoke, entranced by the intense ardor radiating from the blade.
“This is a great sword.”
It was not Id’s first time holding a real sword. He had tried George’s shortsword and Andrew’s longsword before. However, the impression of the blade created by the dwarven artisan, Blackanvil, was completely different from before. Andrew smiled, looking at Id, who seemed at a loss for words, holding up the sword.
“I’ll buy the sword. I’ll be back in the evening since I have to sell the fur first. Thank you for showing me the great sword.”
A smile spread on Blackanvil’s face. It was nice to sell a sword to a person who recognized its value. He had felt bad all day after selling his sword to a pig-like aristocrat who did not even know how to hold it. Despite that, selling weapons to aristocrats resulted in plenty of money.
“Take the sword with you now. You can bring the payment in the evening.”
“Is that all right?”
“I think you’re a real Knight who knows what honor is.”
“Thank you for your acknowledgement. I’ll come again in the evening.”
“I’m happy to find the right owner for my sword.”
Andrew, nodding his head, gave Id the sheath of the sword. Andrew also bought a sword belt and a leather strap to wrap around the hilt.
“I’m gonna wrap the strap for you.”
The Red Lion Order’s tradition was that the senior Knights wrapped the leather strap around the juniors’ sword handle. They had their own way of wrapping, and the strap wrapped around the handle was matured by absorbing blood and sweat through combat. As time went by, it clung tight to the owner’s palm. A skilled Knight could guess the level of the opponent by looking at the sword handle. Id watched Andrew wrap the handle silently. Seeing Andrew wrapping, Blackanvil said with a smile, picking up his hammer.
“Icarus’ way of wrapping the strap. Are you from the Empire?”
“I was appointed as a Knight there.”
“Icarus has produced many great Knights for generations.”
Looking at Id, Blackanvil said;
“I expect you to become a Knight who won’t bring shame to this sword.”
Id bowed to him politely.
“I’ll do my best. Thank you for the outstanding sword..”
“Hmph, good. The kid is not a complete idiot.”
Turning his head, Blackanvil started hammering again.
Andrew quietly left the workshop and handed the sword to Id. The strap-wrapped handle was arranged in an orderly fashion so that no knots and gaps could be found. It was hard for Id to describe the feeling of grabbing the strap-wrapped grip that stuck to his palm.
“I really like it. Thank you.”
Andrew patted Id on the shoulder.
“First, let’s go to sell the hide. Then we’d better go to a pub and have a beer to celebrate buying the sword.”