Four Horsemen: Chapter 6 Part 3 of 5 (Patreon)

“Why do you need a higher carbon content?”

“Makes the iron into steel which is stronger and easier to sharpen.”

“Oh, Gus nodded to himself.

Valter put the last brick under the chimney flue.

“Might need some more iron and coke in a little bit.”

“Okay, see you in a bit mister Valter,” Gus smiled and hurried off to his other tasks.

Valter fed his first brick hearth and put the other two together.

“Hearths in the forge.” He frowned at the odd turn of words.

Valter rolled his shoulders, the heat from the forge waking up his body as he sank into a rhythm, watching the different firebrick circles, mixing coke and iron pulling out the products and hammering them square.

Gus came around with more coke and iron, asking his question about quenching, why smiths hit their hammers on the anvil as they worked. His questions made Valter dive into his smithing knowledge more and checking what his book said.

He went through three buckets, putting a new ingot on the table, finding the bald and scarred man holding an ingot tapping it in his other hand, he’d picked up from Gus he was Alan, the owner of the forge.

“You know how to forge.”

“Yes,” Valter’s throat was hoarse, he coughed and pulled out a canteen.

“You got your own tools?”

“Yes.”

Alan tapped the iron ingot again and pointed at the two fire brick hearths in the forge.

“Finish up the remaining ingots, then make me ten spear heads like that.” He pointed the ingot at spearheads next to two women fixing them on wooden shafts.

“Okay,” Valter grinned.

“Use that forge, one of the ‘experts’ the guild sent over will take your spot.” He pointed to another forge, leaving for his forge, taking the ingot with him.

Valter walked over to the two working on spears, they looked up at him as he picked up the spear head, quickly turning back to their work. He turned it over in his hands, taking out measuring tools and writing down information.

He finished up the two remaining ingots, a man scratching the back of his head as he looked between the coke and iron buckets to the three fire block circles in the forge.

“Shit I’m a smith not a refiner.”

Valter ignored the man, hammering the last ingot into shape and headed for the forge the bald man pointed to. It had more privacy, allowing Valter to pull out his book without worrying about prying eyes.

“Spears.” He murmured, flipping through the pages to the section on the weapons.

Petor would need a new one soon and Valter was excited for the challenge it promised. “Bit by bit.”

He touched his apron and his breast pocket underneath holding Mya’s blueprint.

“Get the fire started and take a look.”

He got the coals laid out, lighting a fire ontop, operating the bellows and damper.

“Nice, okay what have you got for me?” He reached under his apron and withdrew the hide blueprint.

He unfurled it, laying it over the workbench.

His movements stuttered at the elegant lines. He slowed his movements, opening the blueprint with a reverence. Gears, delicate and precise pieces that melded together into a single beautiful and deadly project.

“Beautiful.” The sight made his eyes well up.

He quickly took out another piece of lighter parchment and traced out the first. Such beauty needs to be preserved.

He finished the overlaying sketch, storing it away and looking at the rifle blueprint, as refined as one of those time pieces, each part made to perfectly work with the whole.

He read the notes in the lower right corner denoting the characteristics of the different metals used.

I need to remember or re-learn the different materials before I attempt to make something like this.

He closed the door to the room quietly, locking it, moving with the grace of a priest preparing for a ceremony. He carefully placed the crate on the ground, picked up the blueprint and placed it down to the side with precise movements.

He took in a breath, iron and coal and coke burning his nose. To him it was a calming incense as he drew out a book made of metal with quiet reverence. He reached the ranged section nothing in it was like the masterpiece Mya had given him. He pulled out the sketch of the rifle putting it on the book, ready to carve it into the metal. The paper went up in flames.

“Shit, he waved his hand to put it out and stopped, seeing the lines of the blueprint transferring to the metal page underneath.

“I thought I was going to have to carve that in.” He rubbed a finger over the page, clearing the ash of the parchment. “Glad I made a copy.” He muttered glancing at the original to the side.

He rubbed his thumb against his forefinger.

“Baby steps, build the foundation.” He flipped right to the page he wanted by feeling alone, returning to the spears. He read through the steps, pulling out his tools, well worn and carved with runes along their lengths.

He closed the book, memorizing the information on spears, checking the forge and the coals, moving fresh coals up around those that were already white and red.

“Time we began.” He pulled out a length of steel stock, heating it in the forge’s coals.

Once up to temperature he picked up his hammer, the runes burned into its length and head flared to life as he poured essence into it.

“Interesting.”

He hit the steel to stretch it, it actually retained its heat. As the steel rang out, it was like he had struck a bell within his own body. His movements adjusted, shifting his feet, his fingers. A deep feeling of peace, of familiarity filled him.

He flattened out one side, then using the shelf on the anvil and the angled end of his hammer he started rounding it.

Something was coming undone in his chest, in his mind. The world was fading away as everything became about the materials, the book in front of him. Information and reactions built into his every movement, imprinted upon his very soul.

The socket of the spear formed, with him using a white powder to weld it closed. Then he stretched out the other side of the steel to form the spear head. He drew it out to the length he needed, creating a leaf shape tapering down the edges.

“Looks a good shape.” He stuffed it in the coals to warm up and selected another length of steel and pulled out a canteen,  drinking from it.

He pulled it out, finishing quenching it and leaving it on a rack to be heat treated he started on the next.

Time faded away, fatigue an old friend. His hammer blows became more refined, what took ten blows, took nine, then eight and climbed down.

His speed increased as his quality climbed.

A life time of smithing a dedication to the craft flowed through him. There was no such thing as tiredness, but a state of mild satisfaction and dissatisfaction.

I hit that wrong. That length is too much adding in weakness. There’s too much steel there to create an imbalance. Imperfections were burrs in his mind now opening to a world of knowledge unknowing. Mistakes were wastes of effort a burning of precious time.

He finished his latest spear, turning it in his tongs and grimacing at it, other smiths talked to one another, catching his eye they looked away quickly.

Gus ran up to take the spear head.

“Where is the steel stock?” He asked Gus who looked at him with wide eyes.

“Uh you used the spear stock that we had prepared.”

“You got anything stronger than this steel?”

Gus frowned and shook his head. “No, I’ve heard of other materials like Othir and Dimantium, but those are rare as heaven’s tears here.”

“A steel spear is only going to last him so long,” Valter rubbed his chin and growing stubble. “I need to find something to reinforce it and allow it to work with his power. Then there is the armor.” He scratched the back of his head and spotted the runes on his hammer.

“Gus!” He turned, they boy nearly jumped with the spear head, having walked a few feet.

“Valter?”

“Do you have any scrap metal I can work on?”

“Uhh well there are a lot of broken weapons we’re getting back to be melted down into stock, we can’t work on them all that quick. Swords, spears, shields and the like.”

“Bring me the biggest pieces you can spare,” Valter grinned.

“Sure!”

Valter retreated into his workshop and pulled out the metal book, rubbing his hand over its cover. He flipped through the pages.

“Basics of inscription.”

“Inscription is where one takes their knowledge of runes and geometry from the runic school of thought and applys them to an item. This can be weapons, paper, vehicles even buildings. The geometry creates passages for the essence to follow while the runes transform the essence to create effects.”

“If I was to put in channels then they could use their power through the gear easier, add in runes to create a true inscription and it could increase their output.” He flipped through the pages. “Different methods of carving the geometric lines, and mediums? Kind of like the ink that Desari used.” He scratched his temple, leaning over the book as he heard feet approaching he slipped it into a storage device and turned around.