Egbert stood inside the massive building, wiping the dark sweat from his forehead with a rough piece of cloth.
Egbert was now officially serving Rorik the blacksmith.
"Egbert! Hit this tal right now!" Rorik shouted, "If you do not hit it while it is hot, the iron will beco weak, and a weak sword brings zero honor in a war!"
Egbert quickly grabbed his own smaller iron hamr from the table and began hitting the glowing tal exactly where Rorik pointed.
Egbert hit the tal five tis, breathing heavily. He was a smart young man, but he did not possess the strength of a veteran blacksmith.
"Boy, your arms are as thin as dry twigs!" Rorik laughed a booming sound from his chest.
"I have seen sick sheep with more muscle than you! How do you expect to forge a legendary sword if you cannot even lift the hamr?!"
Egbert stopped hitting the tal and leaned against the bench, smiling a very cheeky smile.
He knew that Rorik liked him, so he felt completely comfortable.
"Master Rorik, my arms are thin because I use my brain to win my wars." Egbert replied.
Rorik wiped his own sweaty face and pointed his finger at Egbert. "When an enemy charges at you with an iron axe, you cannot throw a water mill at his head! You need a strong arm and absolute courage! But I will admit, your brain is useful. You know exactly how much coal to put into the stone furnace to reach the perfect heat."
While Egbert and Rorik were laughing, the door of the workshop opened.
A tall man wearing a complete set of interlocking iron chainmail walked into the room. He carried a short iron sword on his leather belt and a round shield on his back.
This man was Gutta, the armored knight who had traveled with Egbert from the northern territories of Scotland.
Gutta is now one of the army, he had been assigned to a prestigious infantry unit that guarded the inner walls of City Titan.
He received regular als of hot soup and dried at, he slept on a comfortable straw bed, and he was paid steady silver coins for his service.
Gutta heard the loud laughter and decided to join. He walked over to the table and looked at Egbert’s dirty face.
"I heard a blacksmith crying about honor, and I see a boy who looks like he fell face-first into a pile of wet dirt," Gutta said.
"Egbert, are you forging weapons, or are you just trying to change the color of your skin to match the coal?"
Egbert laughed and pointed his small iron hamr at the knight. "Look at you, Gutta! You march in straight lines all day. You wear heavy iron chainmail just to stand perfectly still on top of a stone wall. Tell , how many wooden doors have you defeated today?"
Gutta chuckled, crossing his arms. "The wooden doors of this city fear my power. But truly, my life is excellent now. The king’s army is highly organized. We train with the long spears every morning, and we practice breaking shield walls every afternoon. I no longer have to sleep in the mud of the forests."
Egbert smiled, he knew exactly why their lives had improved so drastically. It was entirely because of Louis the Stamrer.
Because Louis supported them, the other soldiers and workers treated Egbert and Gutta with high levels of respect.
Egbert knew that he owed his bright future entirely to the French prince, and he wanted to prove his worth by designing a weapon that would help Louis reclaim his stolen throne in Paris.
Rorik looked at Gutta and snorted loudly. "Soldiers are all the sa. You wear the iron plates I make with my own sweat, and then you stand around acting like you forged them yourselves. If you are not going to buy a new sword or carry iron blocks for , get out of my workshop! We are busy n!"
"I ca to deliver a ssage," Gutta replied, uncrossing his arms.
"Prince Louis is walking through the city streets right now. He wants to see if the young genius has learned how to hit hot iron..."
As soon as Gutta spoke those words, the door opened for a second ti. Louis the Stamrer walked into the hot workshop.
"G-good morning, my friends," Louis said. "I hope the heat of the stone furnace is not lting your brains."
"Louis!" Rorik said loudly. "The boy is learning fast."
Louis smiled warmly and looked at Egbert.
"Strength can be built over ti, Rorik," Louis told the blacksmith.
Louis then turned his visual attention to Gutta. "And you, Gutta. I have read the reports from Commander Leofric. I am glad you found a proper ho in the king’s infantry."
"I owe my position to your kindness, Prince Louis," Gutta stated firmly.
"I will fight for the Iron Kingdom, and if the king commands it, I will gladly sail to France and fight the knights of your cruel uncle to help you reclaim your rightful land!"
"The war in France will be terrible and bloody. We cannot simply rely on traditional iron swords and shields."
Egbert wiped his hands on his leather apron to clean them. He stepped away from the table and walked directly toward the French prince.
"Louis, while I was sleeping last night, I had a really brilliant idea for a weapon. May I show it to you?" Egbert asked.
"You have an idea?" Louis asked. "What kind of weapon are you talking about, Egbert? Does it use the black powder, or does it use the volcanic tal?"
Egbert smiled. He reached into a box resting on the floor and pulled out a rolled piece of animal parchnt and a piece of black charcoal.
He unrolled the parchnt and laid it flat on the bench.
"It uses both, Prince Louis!" Egbert declared.
"I call it a repeating bolt-thrower. The traditional grappling crossbow is powerful, but it takes too much ti to rewind the strong cord using the manual pulley. In a fast war, ti is the difference between life and death."
Egbert pointed his charcoal at the drawing. "We use the hard volcanic tal to forge tiny, unbreakable gears. These gears are connected to a tightly coiled iron spring. When a soldier pulls the iron trigger, the spring releases, firing a heavy iron bolt.
But here is the brilliant part: the energy of the uncoiling spring automatically pulls the next iron bolt from a wooden magazine attached to the top, dropping it directly into the firing slot in less than a second!"
Gutta leaned over the bench, staring at the drawing. "You are telling that a foot soldier could fire five iron bolts into an enemy shield wall without ever having to stop and pull the string back with his own hands?"
"Exactly!" Egbert said, nodding his head rapidly. "If we give these repeating weapons to the infantry, an enemy cavalry charge will be completely destroyed before the horses even reach our spears!"
Louis the Stamrer stared at the drawing for a long ti.
"Egbert..." Louis said softly, placing his hand on the young man’s shoulder.
"Y-you said it uses both? You have explained the tal, the gears, and the spring. But where... where does the black powder go?"
User Comments
0 comments from readers