"I am sorry, Inquisitor," the bald, dark-skinned man said, "journeymen rarely wait here long for employment after receiving their papers. The smithies of Tariopolis have no shortage of work to be done, and there is a long list of towns across the island advertising their need of qualified men."

Alexander sighed and looked around the spacious foyer. The room was wide and tall with high ceilings and numerous windows. The outer doors were wrought iron but balanced so they were surprisingly easy to open and close. Cushioned benches lined three of the walls while the fourth, which separated the foyer from the rest of the building, was decorated with plaques and tapestries depicting smiths in a variety of clothing styles engaged in different kinds of work. Throughout the foyer pedestals and tables were arranged with examples of smith's work displayed, items ranging from nails and horseshoes to swords and full suits of armor. Two bronze statues, each depicting a burly smith at an anvil with hammer raised, stood flanking the heavy wooden doors that led further into the great stone building.

"Are there any apprentices who are close enough to receiving their journeyman status that I could just bring them north with me a bit early?" Alexander asked.

"Apologies, I am not attempting to defy a request from the Inquisition, but the guild does not send apprentices out until they achieve their journeyman status, no matter how talented they may seem to be. If their work is of low quality it will tarnish the reputation of the entire guild."

"Then what should I do?" Alexander asked, louder than he intended. Several heads from other visitors turned but quickly turned away when they saw the sound came from an Inquisitor. "What should I do?" Alexander asked again after taking a breath to compose himself. "Croton requires the services of a smith, we can't have men traveling for a week or more every time a scythe needs repairing or a horse needs shoeing."

"The town could submit a formal request to the guild informing us of their need. We can post a notice here for any guild-trained smiths to see. We can also circulate a letter to masters throughout the Empire to inform them of Croton's need in case they have any suitable and willing candidates for the position."

"Assume that I am putting in the formal request, now, on behalf of Croton's magistrates." Alexander said, trying his best to mask the irritation he felt. "How long would it take until our position was filled?"

"It is difficult to say, Inquisitor. There is work available throughout the Empire, and many openings are in climates more agreeable than the north. There's no guarantee that anyone will volunteer."

"Can't the guild assign someone to us, then?"

"All journeymen and masters are free men, Inquisitor, the guild's authority extends only to ensuring those who practice our craft do so in a way that does not bring shame to our profession. We cannot force them to go where they do not wish."

"So, are you telling me my journey has been a waste of time? That I came all this way for nothing? There is absolutely no one I can speak to about coming to work in Croton?"

"I am sorry, Inquisitor," the man said in a frightened tone. He reached up and grabbed a small iron hammer on the end of a chain around his neck, turning it over in his fingers. The man wore finely made though otherwise plain white clothes, the hammer being the decoration on him. Alexander had no way of knowing the man's rank or role, only that he is the one who came out of the wooden doors when Alexander told the young man wearing a slave collar that he needed to speak with someone about procuring the services of a blacksmith.

"There may be one option," The man said, then hesitated.

"Option? What option?"

"There is a journeyman residing with us who is interested in finding work."

"You have been telling me that there's no one available, and now you say you've got someone here, now?"

"Please accept my apologies, Inquisitor, I did not intend to mislead you. The guild has been hesitant to recommend this man for positions."

"Why?"

"Well, he's a foreigner, a strange one. From Starklund. Arrived with his sister about a month ago."

"And? What's the problem with him? Are his skills insufficient?"

"No, the masters put him to the test, confirmed that his badge was well-earned."

"Then why not put him to work?"

"Forgive me for repeating myself, Inquisitor, I do not do so in a disrespectful manner. He's a foreigner, the guild is concerned that if he takes a position somewhere and begins to spread foreign ideas it may reflect poorly on us."

"If you're so worried about him proselytizing, why is he still here?"

"He may be a foreigner but he is still a smith, we are honor-bound to provide him with food and lodging even if he was trained on foreign soil."

"So, you plan to just feed him and house him forever?"

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"No, Inquisitor. We will show him hospitality for as long as necessary but he and his sister are currently confined to a room by themselves. Meals are brought to him and he is not permitted to interact with the other members lodging here. We hope that the pair of them will grow weary of the boredom and return to where they came from."

"Bring me to him, I will see if he is suitable for our needs."

"Yes, Inquisitor," the man began, opening his mouth as if to say more, then closing it again.

"Don't worry about him spreading foreign ideas," Alexander said, guessing at what was on the man's mind, "He will be under my direct supervision."

Satisfied with that statement the man led Alexander past the wooden doors and through the halls until they arrived at one of the dormitories. The room was long and narrow with a single window set in the far wall, opposite the door, which looked out onto walled yard containing multiple forges. The walls were lined with bunk beds, enough space for sixteen apprentices though the room was currently only occupied by two individuals. A young man with blond hair sat on one of the beds, turning towards the two men entering the dormitory. He wore a light-colored tunic and trousers and had the thick arms of a smith. A tall woman with blonde hair tied up in a bun was standing in front of the window, also wearing the same tunic and trousers as her brother. She turned when she heard the two men arrive. She had an annoyed look on her face that quickly turned to surprise when she saw Alexander in his armor with sword and pistol at his side. He noted that she moved her hand to her waist where a weapon would be but, finding none, she shifted her right foot back and stood facing the newcomers.

"This is Inquisitor Alexander, here on behalf of the town of Croton, looking to acquire the services of a smith," the guildsman said. Alexander could tell by his tone that the man thought a member of the Inquisition recruiting a worker to be unusual, despite the man's best efforts to hide his feelings.

"Finally!" the young woman exclaimed, her pose relaxing. She took a few steps towards Alexander and the guildsman. Alexander noted she stopped the same distance from him that he would have stood if he wanted to appear friendly but also needed space to react if things turned violent.

"A month we've been here now, always being told there is no work for us. Another week in this place and I would have gone completely mad. You truly have work for us?"

"Croton is looking for a new smith." Alexander replied. "What is your name?" he asked, gesturing to the young man still seated on the bed.

"Einar, son of Torbjorn."

"I am Katla, daughter of Torbjorn, both born of Svala."

"You look young to already be a journeyman, Einar, how old are you?"

Einar glanced at Alexander, making eye contact for just a moment before he looked down at the floor. "I've passed nineteen winters." he said.

"Our father trained us both to follow in his footsteps as soon as we passed our sixth winter." Katla said. "We would watch him each day until we were old enough to hold tools. By the time most smiths begin their training we had already been learning for seven winters."

"I see." Alexander said. The woman, Katla, spoke fast and loudly. Her words were clear for a foreigner but Alexander could still detect the Starklund accent, mostly in the way she pronounced 'S' and 'Th' sounds. "And you said he passed the masters' tests?" Alexander asked the guildsman beside him.

"We both passed the tests." Katla interjected.

"Is that true?"

"Yes, Inquisitor," the guildsman replied. "She insisted on performing the same tasks laid out for her brother."

"And I succeeded at everything, didn't I? But they would not give me the paper they gave Einar!" Katla exclaimed. She turned and picked up a small, multi-colored metal disc inlaid with intricately carved symbols, showing it to Alexander and the guildsman. "I crafted this badge with my own hands, approved at the same time as Einar by the master smiths in Starklund, but these masters won't recognize me because I'm a woman."

"Perhaps in Starklund they grant papers to women but that is not how we do things here."

"Why not? Do men here hold iron in the fire with their cocks?"

"Only men may become smiths, that is the guild's laws, this is not work meant for the weaker sex."

"Our former smith, William, his wife would assist him in the forge before she died." Alexander said, watching a wave of anger wash over Katla's face at the guildsman's words.

The man sighed and threw up his hands in exasperation. "It is not unusual for a smith's wife to labor with him, or a man's daughter if he believes her to be unfit for marriage, but they are merely assistants working under a master, they are never certified themselves."

Katla scowled, turned, and walked back to the window. Einar continued to sit on the bed in silence, occasionally squinting and opening his eyes wide or opening his mouth as if yawning but closing it again after a second.

"Could she work alongside her brother?" Alexander asked the guildsman quietly.

"I... she could, I think. He is the oldest male relative she has so legally he is her patriarch and he can compel her to labor for him if he wishes. But he would have to charge a lesser price for work done by her, and would be responsible for compensating clients for any of her mistakes."

Alexander nodded and rubbed his chin. He was anxious about bringing foreigners north even though Marcus had warned the council that such workers may be necessary. Still, he did not want to return empty-handed and force the people of Croton to endure the hardship of an entire season with no one to work the forge.

"I am willing to bring you north to the town to work our smithy." He said after a few moments of thought. "You will be granted the forge, the tools, and the home attached to it as well as any goods that were owned by William, the previous smith."

"Really?" Katla said, turning around with eyes wide. "Einar, we are finally getting out of here!"

"Now, I must warn you, Croton is far to the north, hundreds of miles away. It is not the easiest place to live, the winters are long and cold."

Katla and Einar looked at each other. The side of the young man's mouth pulled up into a half-smile. Katla's face contorted as she fought to stifle a laugh. "You forget we are Northerners," she said, "what others consider a bitter cold is not worth putting on our furs for. We'll be fine."

"Very well," Alexander said, "gather your things, we'll stay at an inn at the edge of the city today and then start the journey north first thing tomorrow."