Born in Fire

Act I: The Smith

Taran's hammer struck the glowing iron with a loud clang. At the hammer's command, the metal stretched against the dark anvil. He beat the steel until its glow dulled, at which he would return it to the forge. Several heats and hammers formed a sword blade. Numerous other sword blades Taran had crafted lined the stone walls of the smithy, lit by the gaping mouth of the furnace. In the darkness, the furnace was the only light aside from the opening to the world to his back. Taran preferred to work away from the light to concentrate on the glowing steel.

A knock broke his concentration. A tall man garbed in royal blue robes stood in the open yard, along with five knights, and a few other faces Taran could not distinguish in the crowd. The tall man raised his wrinkled hand and nodded his head to the young smith.

"My Lord Duncan," Taran bowed as he addressed the duke, "what brings you here?"

"Young Taran, may I come in?" the duke asked. Taran nodded yes, for common courtesy. Almost half of a dozen knights could fit in the forge, with the furnace in the back, but the duke gave them the command to remain outside, with the exception of his bodyguard, Ector. "I was merely taking a stroll, stretching my legs," said the duke, "yet I thought it appropriate to ask for a commission at this time. I require a dozen of your finest blades. My knights must be readily armed. There are reports of a dragon not too far from our manor, and several lords have lost many villages to the beast. I need your best steel."

"I can do it. I already have a few blades ready. It may take some time for me to forge the rest, but I shall do it. By tomorrow."

"You have my thanks." The duke looked behind him and said, "Men, let us return to the castle." As his knights obeyed and marched with the duke, the lord called out, "Lucina, come with me." A young woman in a bright dress shuffled by the large doorway of the forge. Briefly, her piercing, blue eyes met Taran's, and she stopped. She briefly smiled at him and blushed before her father called for her again. The young duchess picked up her skirts and strode alongside her father.

"Heh, they're a haughty lot, ain't they?" said Fergus.

"Aye, but they are nobles, Fergus." Taran retorted. "As a smith, I've no business thinking less of them."

"Bah, you know what I mean, boy," Fergus retorted, "that daughter of his sneaks out to see you enough to where you're practically wed! Why don't ya' pick up a sword and join them knights up there in the duke's high castles? Take that dame of his for yourself?"

"Don't talk about them that way," Taran snapped. He lowered his voice, "but I don't think the life of a knight is one for me. Taking orders, waiting for orders to be taken, I want to live by my own rules."

"Heh, that's a mouthful comin' from a smith that just took an order to forge a dozen swords." Taran rolled his eyes and pumped the bellows, shrugging off the quip. "And besides, it ain't like this is the first time the duke's lady daughter has seen you, lad, especially with her sneakin' out to see ya'."

Taran's hammer missed the glowing steel. It struck the anvil with a loud ring, shocking Taran's arm. A large dent was stamped on the edge of the anvil where the hammer had hit it.

"Don't look like such a bed pisser, lad," Fergus snorted, "if it were that big of a deal to me, you'd be rottin' in the dungeons by now." Taran simply threw the now cold bar of steel back into the furnace. "Relax. She's a good lookin' girl."

"Stop it." Taran picked up his hammer from the base of the anvil. He placed the heavy mallet onto the scarred lump of iron and pumped the bellows as he spoke back to his master. "I'm not fit for nobility. I'm a blacksmith, she's a duchess. No forces in Heaven or Hell could bring the two of us together."

"Not even livin' up to your father's legacy?" Taran glared at Fergus with his piercing, blue eyes. "Think about it this way, boy, if the duke had knighted your father before he died, you could have been a knight by now."

"I'm not a knight, Fergus," said Taran, "I'm a blacksmith."

"All knights are warriors, but every warrior ain't a knight, lad. You should think about it. If you become a knight, ya' won't have ta' live a life in the dirt. Your father knew that... and I think you should, too."