Henrik Saetre
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Riftside - Chapter 38
🕑 Added 2025-02-27 22:33:37 +0000 UTCMy hand squeezed Eryn's under the table as Ma placed a plate of her special cookies between us, the ones with nuts and dried berries she saved for celebrations, and for whenever there was terrible news. The smell of Pa's Ember Root whiskey filled the room, but the comfort of home now felt hollow. Our sanctuary was threatened by people who wanted to steal our hard work.
“We should have crushed them,” Roq said. “Ground their bones to dust. Why do you humans enjoy leaving the bad guys alive so they can come back and hurt you?”
“Not now, Roq. We can talk about that at a later time.”
“Fine. But if those thugs return, I demand first blood!”
Knut stood watch outside in the unlikely event they returned before we could prepare. Karl had come forth as soon as the men had left, and I'd sent him running to find Edwin and Captain Cooper. The boy had needed some convincing to leave, having wanted to stay and 'help fight the bad men', but a promise of cookies and milk sent him running.
“What was all that about?” Eryn finally asked. “Those men were unlike any debt collectors I've ever seen. They don't come in such numbers and that aggressively.”
Pa looked at Ma, something unspoken passing between them. He nodded, and she straightened in her chair, smoothing her apron.
“It started with a fire,” Ma said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. “Our old smithy, in Milltown, burned down. Left us with nothing but the clothes on our backs and a handful of tools Pa managed to save.” She closed her eyes briefly. “We had no way forward. No way to earn. Everything we'd built over twenty-five years was gone in a single night.”
Pa's jaw clenched so tight I could hear his teeth grinding and the muscles in his neck stood out like cords of steel. He'd been devastated back then, and every time we mentioned the topic, he turned into a different person.
“How did it burn down?” Eryn asked softly.
Pa's laugh held no humor.
“House Domitius,” he spat the name like a curse, “Offered us one thousand gold for the smithy. Everything included.” He took a long pull from his glass. “We refused.”
“There were only two smithies in Milltown,” Ma continued, reaching for Pa's free hand. “Your father's work was…” A ghost of a smile touched her lips. “Well, you've seen what he can do. Word spread. Soon, most customers came to us instead of Master Wright's forge.”
“So the noble bastard tried to buy us out,” Pa said. “As if years of building a reputation, of perfecting our craft, could be bought.” His knuckles whitened around his cup and for a moment I thought he was about to break it.
“Then one morning,” Ma's voice wavered, “We woke to the smell of smoke. The entire building was already ablaze. The three of us barely made it out.” Her fingers traced absent patterns on the table. “Most of our possessions... our life's work... everything burned.”
“Even the coal storage somehow caught fire,” Pa added. “Burned for a full day.”
“The community came together,” Ma said. “They fought the flames with sand and water. Someone had stored both nearby. We never found out who.” Her bitter smile spoke volumes. “The other buildings were saved, but the smithy?” She shook her head. “Nothing could save it.”
Ma noticed Pa's tight grip on the cup, and reached over to gently pry his fingers loose before it shattered and cut his hand.
“It was them,” Pa said through clenched teeth. “House Domitius. They wanted control of the market, wanted their own smithy producing whatever garbage they demanded, on their schedule, and at their prices.”
“But we couldn't prove anything,” Ma said, setting the rescued cup aside. “Nobody saw nothing. Pa was accused of having stored flammable materials next to the forge. Biggest load of crap!” Ma took a deep breath. “Anyway, it left us in a bind, with no savings and no way of earning.”
Eryn's brow furrowed.
“But... how? Your work is incredible.” She gestured at the walls where some of Pa's finest pieces hung. “The gear you made from our monster parts sold for a fortune.”
Ma's smile held a lifetime of worry.
“It's different now, with you bringing us materials directly. Back then, we had to buy everything through middlemen. The margins were bad.” She spread her hands. “We made enough to live comfortably, but not much more.” Her eyes found mine. “And what we did save went to mind gems, helping Ash start out as a scavenger.”
“But why burn it?” Eryn asked. “If they wanted market control?”
“Because they're rich enough to rebuild,” Pa cut in, disgust twisting his features. “The fire was just their way of removing competition.” He reached for his glass, remembered it was empty, and let his hand fall. “Two weeks after our smithy burned, Master Wright sold his forge to them. Signed a fifteen-year contract to work as their employee.” His face contorted like he'd mixed the potty and the water jug. “Fool thought he was clever, getting out while he could. Last I saw him he'd lost so much weight and aged ten years he looked like a slave.”
“That's horrible,” Eryn whispered, her fingers tightening around mine under the table. “How do they get away with it?”
“House Domitius has accumulated so much wealth even the king relies on them to maintain his power,” I said, thinking back to the dark nights after the fire, listening to Pa and Ma talk with their friends. “Only some of the other nobles or even the Adventurers Guild have enough strength to even think of opposing them.”
Eryn nodded, her expression grim.
“And the Adventurers Guild can't get involved in internal politics without breaking their deal with the crown,” she said, shaking her head. “The guild's neutrality is what gives them their power, but it also ties their hands.”
“Leaving common folk defenseless,” Pa agreed, his voice bitter. “It is the same, age-old story. Us ordinary folk get screwed no matter what.”
“It makes sense you moved to the frontier then,” Eryn said. “But why are they coming to Dawnwatch to harass you now?”
Pa seemed to visibly deflate and age years before my eyes.
“Setting up a smithy requires gold. A lot of it. Even with the king's grant for settlers we were short.” He looked at Ma, pain etching deep lines around his eyes. “We went to every silver house, every friend, supplier, and customer, but not a single person would lend us money. Not even at high interest. Even the royal bank turned us down.”
Ma picked up the story, her hands folded tightly in her lap.
“Everyone we approached apologized, claiming they wished they could help but had no money to spare.” Her mouth twisted. “However, all of them suggested House Domitius might lend the money. In the end, we were forced to ask.”
“I went to their office,” Pa spat. “Had to stand before the person I was sure burned down my business and nearly killed my family, and begged for a loan to start a new smithy here on the frontier.” His hands clenched into fists. “Had to explain how I'd make the smithy in Dawnwatch a success, while all I wanted was to wring his neck.” Pa's voice cracked. “I've never been so humiliated in my life. That shit stain pretended to be magnanimous, as if granting me a loan was doing me the greatest favor in the world and it hurt him to do it.”
I couldn't bear to see Pa's pain any longer.
“Blasted nobles are trying to repeat their crime,” I said. “Now that Dawnwatch is stable, safe—” I shrugged, “Safe-ish, and the economy is thriving. Thanks to the steelhusks and the influx of adventurers, we're growing fast. This will be the regional power one day, mark my words.”
“Even though the smithy might not look like much,” Ma added, “Being the only one in Dawnwatch protected by the royal charter is something. Another blacksmith can't just come and set up here for another four-and-a-half years.” Her eyes hardened. “That's why if House Domitius can't buy it, they'll try to burn it down and force us to sell, just like they did before.”
Pa's fist slammed onto the table, making the cups jump.
“I won't let them,” he growled. “This time we know what they're willing to do. We have to stop them.”
“They must be afraid we'll pay off the mortgage before they can pressure us out of the smithy,” Ma said, her chin lifting defiantly.
“But why do they want this one so badly if they are so stupidly rich?” Eryn asked, leaning forward.
“It's all about power,” Ma explained. “They deal in two things, money and weapons. They don't own every blacksmith in the kingdom, but they control enough to manipulate the market, especially in the bigger cities. Imagine what we can make here, with access to monster carcasses and steelhusk. With enough time and money, we could expand the smithy and take on more workers. Give the damn bastards a run for their money with superior products.”
“People would be flocking here from other towns and even cities to get their try at getting the best gear money can buy,” I said, giving her a weak smile. “Especially now with Roq at our disposal.”
Pa cursed, a string of words that would have earned me a cuff to the ear if I'd used them.
I leaned over, putting a hand on his arm.
“Pa. This time they've made a mistake. House Domitius doesn't know what they're up against.” I looked at Eryn, managing a small smile. “We found eight Mind Gems on this hunt with Knut, and even after paying him his one, we nearly have enough to bring me to level eight.”
Eryn nodded.
“If Pa can make a few more items while we do a few more hunts, we can get you to level ten before the Twisted Titan dungeon run,” she said. “With Ash leading a party, he can bring back even more and prepare to pay the mortgage, fast.” Her voice softened. “And I'll do anything to help.”
Ma and Pa's hands found each other across the table. Pa's shoulders slumped.
“I'm so sorry, Helena,” he whispered. “I thought we'd left all this behind.”
“Thomas Tharen, don't you dare start with no riftrot,” Ma said, cutting him off firmly. “This isn't your fault. You've done nothing wrong. You're the strongest, toughest worker I know, and I'm damn proud of you.” Her voice cracked but her eyes blazed. “There is no way those crooks and thieves will take our life away. Not again.”
Ma looked around the table.
“We're going to make a plan,” she said. “One to make those noble bastards regret the day they ever messed with the Tharens.”
“Now THAT'S the spirit!” Roq said, clearly unable to be still a moment longer. “Though I still say we should have started with the leg-breaking.”
*
Pa, Knut, and I sat on Steel & Scale's roof, looking in one direction each, nursing our second round of beers. The smell of Ma's cooking wafted up through the chimney. She and Eryn were making something with mushrooms and meat that had my stomach growling.
My shield lay within easy reach, and Roq rested across my lap. Pa's hammer sat beside him, and Knut had his mace on his belt. We'd been up there for a couple of hours, scanning for any sign of the thugs, and I'd informed Knut of our... history with the noble house.
“This is boring,” Roq said. “We should be HUNTING, not WAITING like prey!”
“Patience, Roq. Sometimes the best defense is just being visible and ready.”
“Ready to NAP, maybe. Even that mushroom monster was more exciting than this! Oh, oh! Just imagine tying them all up and dropping that glowing cap on their heads! Boom!”
“Has your magnificence figured out how the cloak works yet?”
“No. It just... acted? I must say it is rather frustrating to be around a supposedly inanimate object which acts on its own without even asking for permission. What if it decides to interfere with a kill? I would smash it to death!”
I nearly spit out my beer, and with a colossal effort refrained from commenting, instead bringing up the cloak's stats, looking at the second identified ability, the one I’d found on the way back.
Name: Woodwoven Mantle
Type: Cloak
Rarity: Epic
+1 to all stats
Abilities:
1. Cocoon: Encases the wearer in a bark-like shell, greatly reducing incoming physical and magical damage for a single instance. The ability has a 12 Hour cooldown.
2. Impale: Fires venomous spikes up to 10 feet; damage increases with proximity. This ability has a 3 Hour cooldown.
3. Unknown: ???
When the Golem had tried to grab me, a spike had shot out, deflecting its hand. If I could find out how to do that on my own, or what would trigger it, I'd have a tremendous weapon aside from Roq at my disposal.
But first, I took another sip of beer, gathering courage to ask about another weapon. The memory of our supposed friends and allies in Milltown showing us their backs was still fresh.
“Knut,” I said. “I want to ask you for two things.”
The big man turned his head, stroking his singed beard.
“Ask,” he rumbled. “If have power to grant, will do.”
I nodded and took another drink.
“First, I would like to hire you. To protect the smithy. One mind gem per week.”
Knut's face darkened, and he shook his head.
“No.”
“What?” I sat up straighter, nearly spilling my beer. “But—”
“Protect for free.” Knut spat over the edge of the roof, and I saw Pa flinch. Thankfully, the northerner didn't hit our house. “Hate nobles. Think they own everything because they crawl from golden fleece and between special legs. Birth make 'better’? Bah!” He took a long pull. “Most people bastards. Ninety of ninety-one. But you, little bird, Thomas, Helena?” He smiled, showing his white teeth. “Good people.”
“Then let me process your monster carcasses,” Pa said, clearing his throat. “No charge.” He held up a hand as Knut started to protest. “Equal trade. Your protection for my work.”
Knut considered this, plucking at his shortened beard.
“Deal,” he said after a long moment, extending his massive hand to Pa. They shook, and I could see the relief in his eyes.
I shifted, uncomfortable with what came next.
“The second thing,” I started, but hesitated. “It's a secret.”
Knut laughed, a booming sound that echoed off the buildings.
“Many secrets you have, yes? Always whispering, look over shoulder.”
“Oh, if he only knew!” Roq said. “Though I suppose I'm the biggest secret of all. And the most magnificent at that!”
I sighed.
“I wish it wasn't like this.” I gestured at the empty street below. “But you've seen what happens as soon as people know we have something valuable.”
Knut's laughter died at that and expression hardened.
“True,” he said, his voice mirroring his face. “Understand need for caution. Share secret when ready.”
I took a deep breath.
“We have a warrior's class gem.” The words came out in a rush. “And I'm almost level eight. Need about thirty more mind gems to reach level ten.”
Knut's beer spilled from his cup as he twisted, eyes wide.
“By rift!” Knut's voice dropped to an awed whisper. “Already?” His eyes lit up. “With your strength? Your gear?” He shook his head slowly. “Will be terror on battlefield. Congratulations, friend! Smart risking my life to save yours!”
I smiled.
“There's more. I'm not sure if it's public yet, but Commander Edwin is running another raid on the Twisted Titan in... six days? He... he said if Eryn and I were classed by then, he'd personally help us form a party.”
“What you need?” Knut asked.
“Your help getting the mind gems fast enough.” I leaned in closer. “We'll provide food, drink, repair your gear for free, carcasses, new armor, weapons... anything you need. You help take care of us, Knut, and we will take it from there. Your family will have all it needs, we will make sure of that.”
“Plus think of the GLORIOUS COMBAT!” Roq added enthusiastically. “The CARNAGE! The DESTRUCTION! They will call me Roq THE ABUSER!”
Knut didn't answer immediately, his expression uncharacteristically serious.
“What's wrong with him?” Roq demanded. “Usually he'd be dancing at the prospect of more fighting!”
I didn't ask and just waited, and after a short while, Knut finally spoke.
“Like you being honest,” he said slowly. “Could hide truth, tried tricks. Instead, trust.” He nodded to himself. “Will join. Because friends, yes, but also...” He grinned suddenly. “Even blind deer see you and little bird go places. Better earning means more money home to family. Maybe—” His voice softened. “Maybe even bring them here someday.”
“So that's a yes?” I asked, hardly daring to hope.
Knut raised his beer.
“Yes! Will help protect smithy, help level faster than wise.” He laughed. “Ma is smart woman. She chose you both. Why I doubt?”
Pa lifted his drink, and I did the same. The three of us clinked our beers together, making sure some spilled between the three.
“To family,” Pa said.
“To friends,” I added.
“To crushing noble bastards!” Knut boomed.
