A Soldier's Life - 361 - Mithril Chain

BACK IN CHAPTER 224 I ADDED A NEW SCENE -ABOUT 1200 words. IT IS ONE OF THE RECENT EDITED CHAPTERS IN BOOK 4 FINAL EDIT COLLECTION

Chapter 361: Elven Chain

The sun was setting, and people were hurrying home. Gramney felt relatively safe as the knights patrolled the streets at night. Still, people were eager for their evening meal, and the aromas of numerous cooking dishes wafted through the streets as I traveled. I was not surprised to see the lights still on in the forge.

Ignis was still hammering away, with two young men nearby working the bellows intermittently and tidying up the shop after a long day. I stepped into the shop, and Ignis barked at me without looking back. “I’m not taking any new orders, and I’ve got my hands full with these two apprentices if you're looking for work.”

I didn’t leave and instead studied the two young men. Neither looked afraid of the smith as she tapped precisely with a small hammer, working a curve into a thin plate. She seemed to sense I hadn’t left and looked up, irritated. Her face darkened with grimy soot. “Eryk?” Her white smile cracked her blackened features.

“I am here to collect my share of the business,” I proclaimed pretentiously. 

I was clearly joking, but Ignis just nodded seriously. “I have the books in order for your review. Should be around seven hundred gold by now, maybe a bit more.” She turned to her apprentices, “You two can go.” They looked at the mess in the forge, confused, as they hadn’t finished cleaning. “Go, it will keep till the morrow!” The two young men hustled out, allowing Ignis to give me her full attention. “Not bad lads, but it will take them a few years to get the touch with the hammer and feel for the metal.”

“I thought I told you to reinvest my share back into the smithy?” I said, wandering around the shop while Ignis began to close the furnace and clean up herself. By the finished goods hanging on the walls, Ignis had branched out from armor, with a few kettles, short blades, and craftsmen tools resting on the walls.

“Bah, you may be my partner now, but I will work and repay you ten times what you gave me to earn the entire forge,” she said with a smirk.

“You can have it now,” I waved one hand while turning a remarkable set of gears—maybe a crude clock. Pendulum clocks were rare, but I had seen some. People uderstood time by instinct, the sun, and hourglasses, mainly in the Empire.

“I will earn it,” Ignis said firmly, ignoring my offer.

“What about lessons?” I held up the device, “Could you teach me to do this?” 

Ignis laughed and took the device. She wound it up, and the device waddled across the table as the gears turned. It was a toy that stored energy in a series of springs. “From one of the books you gave me,” she said. “I am still a long way from matching the skill of the elven masters. It is five times the size it was on the pages. Once I can miniaturize the gears and figure out the springs, I will consider myself a step closer to their mastery.”

“It is remarkable,” I praised her. 

“What about instructing me in the making of armor and weapons? I would gladly consider your debt repaid if you taught me to forge weapons and armor.” I needed something else to distract me until Raelia arrived, and I had always been mildly interested in the craft and had an extensive library in the dreamscape from the elven metal smiths.

I was surprised when Ignis didn’t say no immediately, which caused me to look over and make her assessing gaze. I knew that look. She was weighing how serious I was—the truth, was that I was probably not that serious. “How about you teach me to make the elven chain mail in the book I left for you with Zyna? Then the forge is yours.” 

“Elven chain?” Ignis said, puzzled. “I only have the books I bartered with you for services.”

I thought back and was certain I had left the book with the other items. Maybe Zyna never got around to delivering it. She was certainly busy with the Mage College, the War, the Emperor, and the conspiracy to kill him. I missed that old woman. “Yes, the one that required mithril links to make,” I recalled.

Ignis stormed across the forge and shoved me against the wall. Her face was just inches from mine. “Elven mithril chain mail? The ones with links smaller than the nail on my pinky?” She pressed her dirty hand into my face.

“I believe so. I’ll need to check,” I said, reflecting.

“Check. Do you have another copy with you? Bring it out, boy.” She grabbed my vest, and maybe she was thinking of shaking me in the hopes that it would fall out of my dimensional space.

The stout women surrounded me, trapping me without an exit. “No, I don’t have another physical copy. Just a reference in the dreamscape amulet.” I quickly swore her to secrecy. “Of course, don’t spread the word that I have such an amulet.” Ignis was not familiar with what a dreamscape amulet was, so I took a few minutes to explain it to her, and she was devastated when I told her she needed to be able to channel aether to use it.

She sat dejected after I explained, “The process and techniques of making the mithril chain of the elves has been lost. I have seen some ancient mithril shirts on Elven ambassadors, but they are treasured, and I have never been given the opportunity to inspect them closely.”

“So, only the Caelorian armorsmiths made the chain?” I asked as I moved toward the door in case I needed to escape the enthusiastic woman.

“They developed the intricate process and expertly produced it. While a few inferior shirts have been made in the last two thousand years, I believe the issue arises from the limited supply of mithril. Only one distant dungeon, far to the south, generates the mystical metal,” Ignis said. “Ugh, if I knew you had such a tome, I would have given you my soul to study it.” 

I smirked playfully, “No need to go that far. We are friends after all.” It would take a lot of effort on my part, but I offered, “I can transcribe the book if you wish—there were dozens of illustrations—and I am not an artist—but I will try for you.”

Ignis rose and moved in to hug me. I let her, but I wasn't expecting the kiss on the lips that followed. It wasn't romantic or affectionate, just a deeply felt gratitude expressed in a kiss. I pushed her away and wiped the sooty taste from my lips. “Like I said, no need to go that far!”

“How long?” The grayed woman asked, her muscled forearms flexing in anticipation. Maybe she planned to hold me down until I finished making her a copy.

“A week?” I offered. It was a long book with mostly detailed illustrations and notes.

“Give me the pages as you complete them,” she demanded, then softened her tone. “I would appreciate them as you are able to produce them.”

“We still have not agreed upon my compensation for such a marvelous tome!” I said theatrically.

“I will teach you to swing a hammer. You can work with the two boys. Be here from sun up to sun down, six days a week,” Ignis said agreeably.

“I was thinking more like four mornings a week? Maybe till lunch?” I replied tentatively.

Ignis laughed heartily at me, “Four half days? With that commitment, I couldn’t make a decent smith out of you in a decade.”

I tried to explain why to her. “Well, I’m a neophyte alchemist, and that craft consumes a lot of my time. I also assume Konstantin isn’t going to let me avoid weapons training. Plus, I promised Benito that I would explore the local dungeon with him. I also plan to open a shop selling lovely chests...”

Ignis growled but not angrily, “Fine, I understand! A man with a hundred projects never gets a single one done, but I will teach you for the book when you choose to bless our forge with your presence.” A thought occurred to me that if the elven chain was so rare, maybe Raelia’s family would accept me if I could deliver them a copy of the book as well. 

I mumbled mostly to myself, “Maybe the original is still in the Chancellor’s suite.” Ignis’s eyes flared with passion, and I regretted saying it aloud. “No, Ignis! It’s not worth your life to try and retrieve it.” Damn, I was glad I hadn’t told her about the rest of the cache of books behind the wall in the storeroom. She would have charged back to Telha to recover it. Even now, I could see it in her eyes. If I didn’t give her a usable copy of the manual, she would seek out the original herself. 

I wouldn’t let the old smith go back, though. I would retrieve the collection myself if it came down to it. Ignis made me promise to bring her at least one page tomorrow before I left the forge. This meant I had to find paper and pencils in the city at this late hour. Most shops were closed, but I found one with decent-quality supplies.

From there, I needed to decide whether to return to Viridia’s villa or Adrian’s Rest. The room I had woken up in at the villa actually had clothes in the armoire, so it might already be occupied. I turned toward the inn, passing knights in the streets who eyed me suspiciously. I didn’t have a key but entered through the back as Gilda was still in the kitchen but alone.

I thought to be friendly to her if we were going to occupy the same building for the foreseeable future. “So, are you going to be the cook?” I asked the currently portly changeling.

“It suits me for the time,” she said. By the number of pots cooking and bowls of rising dough, it looked like she planned to reopen the inn’s tavern tomorrow. 

“Just don’t poison the customers,” I said jokily as I passed through her kitchen.

“Even the ones who deserve it?” she said in a flat tone. I paused in my steps through her domain to face her. Once you got to know her, Gilda’s emotions always seemed so manufactured. Her lip curled into a slight smile. She was Konstantin’s problem, I told myself, and nodded before continuing to my room.

The bloodstain on the common room floor was gone, and the room was immaculately clean. Damn it, Benio, I hope he did not hire a void mage to clean the entire room. I said I would pay for it, but I figured a mage's cleaning would be far more expensive than I planned for.

Blaze had tidied up the bedroom, removing everything but the maps. The window and door had a metal bar that could be placed to secure them. I unloaded the paper, ink, pencils, and two very expensive fountain pens from my space on the desk. New linens were on the bed.

My griffin-down pillow appeared in my hand, and I tossed it onto the bed as I prepared for an evening of work. With the room secure and my work desk ready, I entered the dreamscape. The library in the mindspace looked impressive now. The circular scorpion room was lined with shelves full of knowledge. Oscar came running up to me and dropped a ball at my feet. I patted his head and tossed it.

I instinctively knew where the book I wanted was. I could have summoned it to my hand, but I preferred to walk and take the physical book off the shelf instead. I opened to the first page, which showcased a stunning lithograph of the completed armor. The elves did not use conventional ink, as that would have faded over the centuries. Instead, their books were crafted from tough fiber and written in metallic alchemy ink. I sighed and began to imprint the first page into my mind, knowing I would be entering and exiting the dreamscape quite a few times tonight.

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