I Will Be the Greatest Knight

There was a certain level of roughness Irene had gotten used to having looked upon knights her entire life. In fairytales, they were always handsome, flawless men but in reality, the men were rough around the edges and marred with scars. Even her beast of a father came home with scratches and bruises. Her mother often fussed about it—a reality she understood well.

However, nothing could have prepared her for the scarred appearance of the blacksmith they were set to meet that day. 

As he stepped out of his shop to meet the knights, his marred face and arms were on display because the sleeves of his shirt had been torn off. Over the entire outfit was a thick leather apron. Irene forced herself not to stare. 

One of his eyes was completely scarred over and his lip had been split and badly healed another time. 

His dark brown hair was tied back in a rough bun at the base of his neck and it was enough to show off the lump of an ear he had left. 

Regardless, Sir Gunnar greeted the man with an embrace and they spoke loudly and friendly with one another. 

"We've brought you a bit more business, Samson," Gunnar greeted the man warmly. "I hope that your queue isn't too terribly long."

The man's scar went down his cheek and into his beard, but it was still a very full beard and he smoothed his hand over it thoughtfully.

"I have plenty of apprentices working on immediate orders," he muttered. "I suppose the Knights of Tenetium should be the highest priority." With a nod, the older man finally said, "I will work on them myself."

Gunnar clasped the man's shoulder and the apprentices were able to see him in a more lighthearted mood than usual. It made him seem more youthful to behave less dutifully. 

As the older men were admired, Gunnar then turned to Irene.

"This one will go first," the knight explained. "He's using a weapon much too short for close combat. We need to size him a sword. The other orders will be much more simple."

"What are you working with now, boy?" the blacksmith asked as he approached Irene. 

He then placed his hands on his knees and got closer to Irene's height. 

She obediently unsheathed her sword and handed it to him.

Gunnar was large, but Samson was even larger. The dagger was practically the size of his hand with fingers extended. He raised dark eyebrows at this and scratched his beard. 

"How long have you had this poker?" he asked, observing the worn leather wrapped around the handle. "And this gem. Something to do with a mage, I assume?"

Considering magic was a bit taboo, Irene's green eyes widened but she refused to falter. 

The entire Kingdom of Hydrogia was far more sensitive than the Sünsto people. Luckily their region, Chemois, was faster to change their hearts since they were further away from the capital. 

With her grandmother constantly telling her what to do, she often forgot where the line was. Even as an adult, she would forget that she wasn't supposed to be so open-minded and accepting of topics regarding magic. It was certainly a thorn in her future husband's side. Luckily, she had chosen to never marry again.

"Yes," she confirmed. "Enchanted with a protective spell from the healer in my township."

The man seemed intrigued as he stood up straighter. As he held the dagger in his hands and turned to Irene once more, he arched an eyebrow.

"Whose child are you?"

"Litharion," Gunnar answered for Irene.

"Sünsto!" the blacksmith exclaimed and let out a hearty laugh. "Why didn't that old wolf make you a sword himself?"

"Ah…" Irene uttered, speechless.

"His grandmother made that first dagger for him," the knight interjected once more. "At least that's what Arthur explained to me before."

"Yes!" Irene agreed. "My grandmother made me this sword when I was seven."

"But you've grown quite a bit since then it seems," the blacksmith mused. 

"Ah… yes," she agreed, feeling shy again. 

She glanced towards Felix who wasn't paying attention, otherwise the older apprentice might have given a little jab about her height. 

Sensing there was something unsaid, the blacksmith then clasped Irene's small shoulder. 

"Let's go inside," he suggested. "I have a few blades that might be the correct size from when I was a mercenary. I'll make something if they fit." 

Ah, that explains the scars, she thought.

"Phillip," Gunnar directed the other knight. "Watch the apprentices in the meantime."

While Gunnar wasn't mistrustful of the blacksmith, knowing what he knew about Iro, he felt it was best not to leave the child alone. Sir Arthur would likely appreciate that approach as well.

The trio went inside of the white-plastered building with brown wooden borders at street level. Unlike the others on the street, however, it wasn't nestled against any others and was further out than most of the other ones. There was a burn risk using such hot fires and being close to other wooden structures. 

The inside was unbelievably hot and Irene knew right away why the man didn't wear sleeves. 

However, they continued through the main room and went towards the back where it seemed Samson kept most of his weapons. 

Irene was in disbelief as she saw only a glimpse of what he had hidden in a storeroom. There was no doubt by the muscles and scars on the man that it was unlikely anyone ever tried to take the weapons from him.

There the man found a few swords that were more suitable for what Irene needed. 

He had her extend her arm outward then he handed her a blade with the weight he expected her new one might be similar to. It would be heavier than her dagger, but it would be important for her to build her strength and get used to a heavier weapon anyway. 

He also took her dagger and screwed it into a clamp so he could get measurements of it. The handle seemed the perfect fit for her hand and it was unlikely the sword she would have as an adult anyway. He observed the handle to see the pattern of the leather strip fitted on the outside as well.

Fortunately, Samson knew a bit about the Sünsto way of crafting swords. He had been a blacksmith for over twenty years. After his time as a mercenary, anyway.

The man then made sure the sword wouldn't drag on the ground which was what Irene was most worried about. He assured her that wouldn't be an issue. 

When they were about to get into the details of the sheath, there was a shout from outside.

"Goblins spotted at the edge of town!"

Gunnar ran out first. 

Irene's green eyes met Samson's brown ones. 

It was clear the apprentice wanted to leave as well but he had her dagger wasn't readily available.

Rather than asking for permission, she decided she would apologize later. 

There was a bow and a few arrows laying on one of the work benches and she grabbed all of them before running out to follow the rest of the knights. 

Rather than being irritated, Samson chuckled and muttered to himself, "Sünsto and knights aren't all that different, are they?"