Chapter 156: Of Blades and Better Measures

Mary let the hammer rest against the anvil and watched him as if she were reading the weather. Her eyes had that same steady humor that made apprentices either want to impress her or sneak away; most chose the latter. The forge smelled of hot metal, oil, and something faintly sweet from the tallow lamps, the familiar odor wrapping around Orion like an old cloak. Sparks fell like sparse stars as a fresh blade cooled in the trough. For a moment, the world narrowed to that ring of heat and the two of them standing under it. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

Orion did not answer her immediately. He watched the glow of the coals, and something in his face smoothed into thoughtfulness. "I was thinking the daggers might not be enough," he said finally, his voice low and serious. "What if she runs out of them? What if a beast is close and she can’t throw? Or she’s surrounded and it’s too tight to use a throwing blade properly? Daggers are fine for distance and quick strikes, but they don’t always buy time in a grapple."

Mary’s hands stilled. The smith’s trade called for an acute practicality, weight, balance, edge and she listened like a craftsman measuring wood.

"Aren’t you worrying a bit too much?" Mary asked him. "I suspect you are the one teaching her to use the dagger so obviously she’ll be able to use it even in close combat."

"But what if there’s not enough time for her to learn to use it properly? And besides, she’s not me." Orion told her.

Mary chewed the inside of her cheek and mulled it over. Her face, usually so sparing of expression, shifted into that look of concentration he recognized, the one that came before a new design. "Daggers can be used in close work," she said after a beat, tapping a finger against a cool iron rod. "You can throw them and then she can draw a blade and use the same technique, but it takes practice. If you’re the one teaching, then yes, you can make throwing blades translate into short-sword fighting. I taught Garrick that way, once. The principle is the same. It becomes about angles and economy of motion."

"She’s not a fighter, Mary, that’s the point," he said. "Not in any real sense.

Mary’s face softened then in a way that made him feel ridiculously exposed. She put the tongs down and stepped closer, the air between them full of the metallic aftertaste of her work. "Then she needs something else. Something that fits her, light, easy to handle, forgiving. If you want daggers for throwing, I will make them the best, but I will also make... a pair of short blades."

Orion raised an eyebrow before he could stop himself. "Short blades?"

"Yes." Mary’s voice carried the certainty of someone who was about to bother someone into acquiescing because she’d already decided. "Not long arming swords. Think of them more like short arming blades, broad enough for cutting, narrow enough for thrusting. Balanced right, they can be used by someone who lacks brute strength. You don’t need to swing wide to have them do work. You use the hips and the whole body. They’re a lot like... like a strong kitchen knife that has been taught to fight."

Orion rolled his eyes. "Mary, I know what short blades are. I’m just curious, most short blades are heavy, so wouldn’t that be taxing for her? Remember I said she doesn’t have much stamina or even the strength to lift something heavy."

"No." Mary’s smile was a quick flare. "If one knows how to make them then they can fit the request you made. They’ll have hollowed grips, a full-length tang, but thin. A properly tempered edge. A good fuller to take weight out without sacrificing rigidity. Anda slight curve to help with cutting motions. It will be the perfect weapon for her to use. And besides, conside it a gift to her for dragging you to the festival."

Orion blinked once, then smiled widely.

Mary’s eyes were bright . "I’ll make them." She dipped a rag into a bucket of oil and wiped down the slab where the daggers had been sketched, then reached for a new sheet of charcoal. "And I’ll try something different. There’s a technique I’ve wanted to attempt for years and you just gave me the perfect opportunity to practice it. People call it fanciful, but I think it’s not. And there’s a material I really want to use for this weapon."

Orion cocked his head. "A new technique?"

"Yes. Do you want to hear about it?" She asked him.

Orion shook his head. "Even if you explain, I suspect I wouldn’t be able to fully understand what it’s about."

Orion watched Mary sketch rough lines of a short blade, mindful of balance points, where the fuller should sit, not too deep, not too shallow and how the grip would be wrapped. Her hands moved sure and quick, the marks honest and purposeful.

"What about the hilt?" he asked. The question came from something more than curiosity; he wanted them finished how he had pictured them a little thing that bore a piece of the world he wanted Sophia to know.

She looked up as if he had read her mind. "I was thinking the vine motif you described for the daggers." She tapped the charcoal over the design. "Interlaced metalwork forming the guard and a grip wrapped in supple, treated leather. But...and this is the part I’m most excited about... for the pommel I want to use river jasper. It’s heavy enough to counterbalance but pretty. We can inlay a crescent along the guard. Discreet, but meaningful."

Orion knew at this point that he was losing Mary. She was already invested in the new blades. He wasn’t sure she even knew when he stepped out of the forge. But it wasn’t like she’d care either way.

Orion was glad that he had that out of the way. He was about leaving when he stretched us hands and he felt a sharp sting of pain from his shoulder.

That pain was what made him remember the deal he made with Sophia and it made him take a detour once more but this time, it was to the medical facility.