They continued through the village until they reached a tavern on the outskirts. They tied Pip, and she slaked her thirst in a trough, while Ian and Rory carried one of the crates into the tavern, through a back entrance. The sound of the patrons inside the tavern was rowdy and they were clearly enjoying themselves. Ian smiled to himself, knowing how much of a part he played in this. Since they were all so focused on having fun, they were unlikely to notice Ian and Rory as well. Ian nodded to the cook, who gestured for them to come into the kitchen, in private. He was expecting them.
Ian and Rory carefully placed the crate on the table. They opened it and the cook inspected the utensils.
“Fine craftsmanship. And ye hae someone new,” the cook said, turning a beady eye towards Rory.
“Aye, this is my apprentice. He’s come from the McLeod clan and wanted tae learn about blacksmithing from the master,” Ian boasted. Rory looked at him with a strange look, never having said this at all, but he did not dispute it in front of Ian. Ian had never seen a problem with taking an opportunity to advertise his services or make himself look good. A little bit of boasting could go a long way, although the cook had been dealing with Ian for long enough that he wasn’t fazed by Ian’s words.
“Now, let’s see yer other wares,” the cook said. Ian pulled off the top of the crate. A false bottom was underneath, containing bottles of whiskey.
“It’s even better than the last batch,” Ian said. The cook took a bottle and held it up to the light. Then, he opened it and poured some into a small glass. He breathed in the aroma and then shot it back into his mouth, allowing it to linger over his tongue before he swallowed it. He placed the glass back on the table and then exhaled, coughing as the whiskey burned the back of his throat. He nodded in approval.
“I can see ye are a man of yer word. Load the rest in, and I’ll get ye the money. Ye are a lifesaver, Ian. I dinnae know what this place would dae without ye,” the cook said.
“I’m just happy tae help. I really dinnae understand why the Laird hae banned the local distilleries. It’s a wonder the people hae nae risen up in rebellion.”
“Well, they’re tae well-behaved for their own good. Besides, I would nae want tae take on his guards.”
“I can understand that,” Ian said.
He and Rory carried the crates into the kitchen, and then the cook paid them with a hefty sack of coins. Ian grinned as he felt it.
“I’ll never get tired of this,” he said, handing it to Rory so that the boy could get a feel for these riches. They collected Pip and headed back to their shop.
“See, lad, it’s just honest work for honest pay and naebody hae tae be any the wiser. There’s absolutely naething that ye hae tae worry about.”
“Until the laird finds out. He must hae banned the distilleries for a reason. I cannae imagine he would be happy with knowing that someone is supplying the village with whiskey.”
Ian waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Who knows how he decides anything. I’m sure my wee business is of nae concern tae him. Now, let’s get back and we can continue yer training. But ye hae a lot tae learn about life, my boy. As a blacksmith, ye show a lot of promise, but ye are naive. Ye cannae let yer fear get the better of ye,” Ian wagged a finger in the air. Rory nodded and sighed.
2
“I’m telling ye, lad, just give them a chance. They can be as sweet as can be, and when it’s over, ye will be smiling as bright as a cherry,” Ian said.
Rory huffed and tried to change the subject. Ian saw a lot of himself in Rory, but there was something pensive about the boy as well. It was fine to be focused on a craft, but there was more to life than that. Rory was only 18 so he wasn’t old enough to understand this yet, but seemed determined to ignore the lesson that Ian was trying to impart. That seemed to be the way of the world, however. There had been plenty of lessons that Ian had ignored from his father, although he tried not to think about these because they just made him sad.
“I’m looking forward tae getting started on that order we received earlier,” Rory said.
“From ol’ Mr. Big-for-his-Boots? Oh aye, I’m looking forward tae that as well. I thought we could overcharge him for it. After all, he wants an expensive sword that he’s never gaeing tae use. I could nae imagine him in a fight, could ye? He would probably topple over if he ever tried tae swing one. We’ll give him a useless sword that looks pretty, and he will never be able tae tell the difference. I dae like customers who hae nae idea what they’re talking about,” Ian rubbed his hands together and his eyes glistened with hope, but again Rory scowled.
“We should nae try and trick him. If he ever should wield that sword in battle, then he would soon realize what happened, and if he tries and shows it off tae anyone who daes know what tae look for, then they’ll surely tell him that the sword is substandard. I’m sure ye would nae want yer reputation tae suffer.”
Rory was taking things too seriously again, although he did have a point. A man’s reputation was everything, and if word did spread that Ian was overcharging for worthless swords, he would soon find himself in a nasty predicament.
“I was only joking, lad,” he said, trying to excuse his words.
“Well, it was nae funny. I came here tae learn how tae make swords well, nae how tae cheat people,” Rory said, his words more fiery than usual. Ian held his hands up, as though he was trying to tame a wild horse.
“Aye, lad, aye, ye dinnae hae tae get sae worked up. Ye know I take my work seriously. I would nae hae taken ye on if I dinnae. I just think that sometimes a good sword is wasted on people like him because he will nae be able tae appreciate it properly.”
“But we can appreciate the artistry of what we are making. As long as we can put our head down at night knowing that we hae done a good job, then we can be happy with ourselves,” the words were rehearsed. Ian could imagine that Rory repeated them to himself over and over again until they became a promise he was determined to keep to himself.
“And I dae, lad, I just like haeing a joke now and then, that’s all. But maybe I joke tae much. And maybe ye joke tae little,” he added in a teasing tone. Rory smiled.
“It’s just that I hae always wanted tae be a blacksmith. I want tae learn all that I can, and sometimes it seems like ye dinnae take it seriously.”
Ian regarded Rory with a rueful look. “Lad, look, blacksmithing is all I hae ever known. It’s in my blood. The first thing I can remember is haeing a wee hammer in my hand. It was my Da’s trade, and his Da’s before him, and if I ever bring a son intae the world, I hope it’ll be his trade as well. There is naething dearer tae my heart, but life is serious enough already. Ye dinnae need tae be sae stern all the time. There’s always room for a joke and a laugh, because there will be plenty of sorrow by the time ye are done.”
Ian tried not to think about the moments from his past that he would rather forget, yet they kept gnawing at the back of his mind. They walked on in silence back to the shop. Ian opened the door and they walked in.
