Page 19 of Picking Up the Gauntlet

“I’m not a horse, so don’t tell me whoa and speak to me as if I were,” she snapped, still upset about what had just transpired inside the great hall.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.” As his hands slipped from her shoulders, Raven felt his warmth go with them. After meeting those two awful noblemen, being in Jonathon’s presence felt so much nicer, and actually calming.

“Nay. I’m sorry,” she told him with a shake of her head, regaining her composure. “I didn’t mean to sound so shrewd with you here, or in the kitchen earlier either. I’m just upset, that’s all.” She stepped back and looked the other way.

“I see,” he answered, sounding as if he knew the problem. “Well, the lords are leaving so I am guessing your meeting is over?”

“I-I suppose so.” She bit her bottom lip, still not looking at him.

“Were you going somewhere, my lady?”

“I usually go to the practice yard when I’m upset, but today I was planning on going for a ride to clear my head.”

“I’ll saddle your horse for you, and go with you. Let me accompany you to the stable.”

Raven looked over to see the lords approaching the stable to get their horses. She quickly changed her mind, wrapping her arms around her. “I don’t think I’ll go for a ride after all. Not now.”

Jonathon’s head turned to see the reason. “Perhaps you could show me the blacksmith’s shop then,” he suggested. “I will be living there until after the tournament, and I haven’t seen it in years.”

“Oh.” Her arms fell to her sides. “Of course. It’s right over there. I can show it to you.”

“I’d like that,” he said, holding out his arm to accompany her.

Raven wasn’t used to this. It felt awkward and much too intimate to be taking the arm of a commoner. “I’ll just walk next to you.”

He looked surprised, not to mention disappointed. Slowly, he lowered his arm. “Of course. Whatever you desire, my lady.”

They walked in silence to the building that contained the forge.

Jonathon opened the door to the forge and stopped in his tracks. It took a moment for his eyes to get accustomed to the dark. The bright sun spilled into the room, slowly revealing the place to him.

“This is the forge and where our last blacksmith lived,” said Raven from behind him.

“I barely remember it, since it has been so long since I’ve been here.” Jonathon took a few steps into the room and Raven followed.

“It smells so smoky in here.” Raven wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know how anyone could work here, let alone live here.”

Jonathon turned to look at her. “It’s the life of a blacksmith, and takes a while to get used to,” he told her. “Before too long you’ll not even notice the smell anymore.”

“Oh,” she said, looking around the darkened room. “I’ve only been in here a few times, since I try to avoid it. I don’t really know much about it, so I’m not sure what to tell you.”

“You don’t need to tell me anything about it. I will manage.” Jonathon walked over to a window and threw open the shutters, letting in the fresh breeze.

“Is this similar to your shop?” she asked, curiously. “I don’t think I’ve ever been to your place in town.”

“In some ways, yes, but in others, no.” He walked over and opened a second window. With the sunlight now filling the room, he had his first real view of the castle forge. He had only been here once or twice as a child, accompanying his father to visit the castle’s blacksmith.

Housed in a building made of brick was a small forge at the far end of the room. It was a stone hearth that vented out a hole in the roof. In front of the hearth were two small bellows, attached to ropes that were pulled to work them, to blow air on the fire and make it hotter. There was, of course, an anvil, and blacksmith tools hanging on the walls, but not much else. The floor was wood and very dusty.

It seemed as if the entire place was covered in filth. True, blacksmith shops were always filled with smoke and covered with soot, but he kept their shop in town clean. His family prided themselves on keeping their work area presentable for their customers, and especially the nobles. The condition of the castle’s forge surprised him. He could see now why the nobles came to him instead of using their own castle’s smith for what they needed at times. The conditions here were severely lacking.

“How is it different?” she asked, seeming genuinely interested.

“Well, for one, this is a very small shop. Mine is much bigger.”

“Really?” she asked with a grin. “How much bigger is yours?”

Jonathon could have kicked himself for saying that. Her smirk told him that she was being flirty and not talking about his shop anymore. Or at least, he hoped not. He smiled inwardly, liking this playful side of Raven that he had never seen. From all the stories he’d heard of her, and from what he’d experienced so far, he didn’t think the woman knew how to jest, or even how to smile.