Finally closing the armoury doors behind her, Hertha took a deep breath, and straightened her shoulders. There was one more thing she wanted to do before she headed for her rented accommodation, and a well deserved sleep. Her day had been full at the forge. Then three travellers had arrived to stay a few days at the Roaring Dragon, and two with horses that needed her attention. She thought again on what her cousin had told her, about the new woman in Bancross being a horse healer, or possibly a farrier. She would make a point of checking that information out soon. But that evening she wanted to ensure the chosen apprentice had her parent’s permission to begin training.
Looking up at the sky, the first stars were already twinkling. The year was turning. The evenings growing noticeably earlier by the day. She pondered a moment, was it too late to visit Ethel’s family?
Never one to overly abide by convention, the auburn haired smith decided she would at least try. If Waelden and Yllfa thought it was too late for a visitor, they would surely say so.
So she wandered along the lane towards the farms, passed Northgyth’s house, and made for the still partly barricaded dwelling where she knew Ethel and her family lived.
She had seen the place many times over the past couple of years, watched it slowly fall into disuse and neglect. What could be expected? Erbrand, the owner, had been elderly and frail. His family did not come out of Edoras to visit. Yet now, finally, it was in new hands.
Standing back a moment, the smith cast her eyes over the building. There was a lot to do to make it what it once was. But she caught sight here and there of new touches. The roof looked patched, there were a few troughs of flowers in the yard, there was smoke from the smoke hole and a light already lit on the inside window sill. Best of all, the smell of a rich and hearty stew reached her nostrils.
‘Humm, they are settling in,’ she thought.
As she walked to the main door, well aware she was very close to meal time, she heard a voice from the yard away to her left.
There was a man, sturdy of build, greying of hair and beard, clad in a casual green tunic. He was addressing the blonde sorrel horse he groomed. “Steady there my friend. Just your mane to finish.”
Heartha strode towards him. Maybe there would be no need to intrude on their forthcoming meal.
“Well met,” she called loudly. “Are you Waelden, father of Ethel?”
The man looked over his shoulder at her, though he was beginning to work the comb he held through tangled mane.
“Aye. Do come in if you will. The horses don’t bite. Much.”
Maintaining a straight face, Hertha replied, ‘Neither do I. Much.”
The man, Waelden, gave her a slight grin. She could not see much of Ethel in him. The girl most likely took after her mother as Captain Denholm had implied. But Waelden had pleasant, open features, just a little marred by a couple of long-healed scars on his face. Hertha thought he was a sort she could speak easily with. She halted at the edge of the yard so as not to interrupt his work.
The horse, like Waelden himself, looked as if he was past his best years, yet could still offer some surprises if need demanded.
“That is a fine horse you have there. Yours for some time?”
Waelden finished his untangling, then took up the brush again to give the horse a couple of long strokes over his withers and back. “He is an old warhorse. We have only had him for a few months. He’s part of the family now.”
“He looks like he has seen better days to my eyes, but he still has some spirit and life in him, eh?.”
The horse turned his head to look at Hertha directly, almost accusingly. ‘Who are you calling old?’ He shook his head, snorted, then walked off towards the water bin.
“I guess you are done then,” Walden said to the retreating horse. Then he turned his attention back to the smith. “We call him Ealdhors, since no one knew his name we thought we would give him a new one when we bought him. My woman is quite attached to him. The girl likes him too. Old? Aye, but still stronger than many young stallions out there, and as stubborn as a mule when he wants to be.”
“He has a good home now, it seems?”
Waelden simply nodded. “You’re the smith, aye?”
Holding out her right hand, to grasp Waelden’s arm in greeting, she nodded. “I am Hertha, the master smith in Bancross garrison. But I am not touting for business.”
Waelden walked closer, grasping her arm firmly in turn. Older? Aye, but still stronger than many younger men, she thought.
“Well met. I figured as much. Ethel has mentioned you a few times.” he said.
“It’s Ethel I want to speak with you about. If it’s not too late in the evening?”
The man glanced over at the house a moment, “Aye. It’s fine. But let's walk a bit further from the smell of the yard. Over there by the trees is better. And what’s this about Ethel?”
As they moved from the yard, past several worn barricades, the smith wondered if the man was keeping an eye on the door for when the meal would be ready, but then again he didn’t seem the sort to be overly hurried about such matters.
“This will do,” he announced, giving her his attention again.
The smell of dinner was making her nostrils twitch a little. Hertha considered stopping off at the Roaring Dragon herself before going home to bread and cold meat. “I won't keep you long. It’s about me taking on your daughter as my apprentice.”
“Mm. I had hoped you would.” Waelden spoke openly, as he brushed stray hay and dirt from his tunic.
‘He wants that dinner’ the smith thought. ‘By Bema, so would I in his place’ But she said, ‘I am impressed with Ethel.”
It was true. She had only met one youngster as promising before. Being a boy, his parent’s had not considered her suitable as an instructor. She was not going to let that happen here.
Waelden smiled with genuine pride, and folded his arms over his chest.
“But I need to speak with you before I say more to her.” Hertha pressed on.
“She is a good girl. I already had her apprenticed at Floodwend,” the man said. “Even though the smith there was a sour old swine.”
At that, Hertha laughed. “And this smith isn’t?.”
“Well, I can’t claim to know you well enough yet to make a comment.” Waelden replied.
“No need. I let everyone know I am a miserable woman.” she laughed again rather heartily, so disproving her own observation. “But I am not like that all the time.”
Waelden nodded, relaxing now against the tree. “That's fine. I'm more than impressed to know there's a woman blacksmith here. That alone is a feat!”
Down to business, she thought. “I am the master smith here. I am responsible for, or for overseeing all metal and weaponry work for the garrison, and any farrier work for the village. I have one smith not long out of his own training, and he more specialised in armour repair. My other, more experienced worker returned to his family recently. There is lots of work. I need an apprentice with promise. It is a hard life, particularly for a woman, but Ethel tells me you are more...open of mind...than many.”
“I try to be... and Bema knows, I've been trying to find good female role models for her, ever since her mother died.” Waelden said.
Her mother was dead? For a moment the smith recalled the expression on Captain Denholm’s face when Ethel had said her papa was at home with her mama.
“So Yllfa isn’t her mama, yet she calls her….ah, that makes sense now.” Hertha spoke, and immediately rebuked herself. That information possibly explained the tension in the family, but it was actually none of her concern unless it affected Ethel directly.
Waelden shook his head at her question. “No... not her mama by blood, rather by choice. Her birth-mother passed several years ago. But aye... back to Ethel. My family history is of no interest in this, eh.”
“Absolutely. This is about Ethel alone,” Hertha moved on swiftly. “But I need the agreement of her family, of her father, to apprentice her.”
“Aye... do tell what you have in mind then? Ultimately it's all up to her, but I want to hear your thoughts even so.”
Heartha also relaxed her back against the opposite tree, making a slight glance at the house just in case a call was imminent. A second light appeared on the window sill.
“Very well. With your agreement I will take Ethel on for three years. Bancross is a bit of a backwater, but I am a damned good smith.” she said. “'She wont find anyone better to train her. And if it’s role models you want..” she opened her arms, but shrugged, “ I can’t say I will be a good role model, but I will show her by example how to stand against those who think this world is just about men.”
Waelden straightened up, looking at the now inky dark sky a moment. 'I don't doubt that. Any woman who can work herself up to your level, is sure to be good. I'd be happy to see her train under you, as long as she likes. Three years time... yes, I'm sure she'll be happy to do that. One year she has already done in Floodwend, after all.”
“I will mostly teach Ethel farrier skills at first. There is always work to be found there. But I believe she wants much more.” the smith nodded at Waelden.
“Hah! In all honesty, I'd hoped she'd grow to do all manner of things. I'm expecting her to make a personalized axe for me in a few years!” Waelden grinned again, but the smith knew he had high hopes for his daughter.
Too high perhaps?
No.
Hertha nodded. “That will happen.” she said.
