Speaker Of Hell

Prologue - Boiling Blood

Shelby Bergstein was a mostly silent man, taking comfort in the noise of his hammer hitting the steel of a red-hot blade. He preferred to let his exquisitely crafted weapons do the talking, drawing customers in and sending them on their way, with considerably lighter purses. If the occasional drunken idiot or overly casual thief wandered into his shop, Shelby didn't mind picking up one of the said exquisite weapons and translating for it.

But one little lady, one almost Goddess-like lady, left not only him, but also left his weapons speechless. The woman had came into his shop at the peak of dawn, early enough for Shelby to think he was still dreaming when he saw her.

It took him several seconds to realize that she was a customer, and had requested two things from him. He was so stunned that he agreed to fix an item that would likely get him executed by the Church, and agreed to craft the oddest pair of daggers he'd ever heard of, something a woman had no business buying.

Well, the streets were extremely dangerous at night, now that the war between Ursai and Gaelia had gained so much popularity. Hell, they were dangerous in the mornings. The King had no resources to spare on soldiers and peacekeepers. Most young men, starting from sixteen years old, had been either voluntarily drafted or forced into the war. That left all of the older men, fifty years of age and up, to either produce weaponry or to run the shops. As men do, they would relax at the tavern, get drunk, and have a go at any woman foolish enough to be out after dusk fell. It was understandable that the lady who arrived earlier would like to defend herself.

She had promised to pay him handsomely for his troubles, and then some. She had better. The last time she came in, she was barefoot and missing a purse, but her clothing looked like it was worth thousands of shillings. Even if she had sowed it herself, the material it was made of must have been the highest quality of silk. He was dubious, but not put off. If she did try to leave him without coin, however, he would be more than happy to take her payment in another way. Honestly, who could blame him? She was a lovely woman, and made him feel like he had when he had first come of age.

It was approaching sunset, the time that the lady had designated for Shelby to be finished by. He was extremely nervous to meet this strange lady. She not only mystified him, but she intimidated him, too. First off, she had requested two specific daggers, which probably meant she knew how to use them. Not to mention she had asked him to fix a necklace that he should have flat out refused to fix, but he had been taken by surprise.

She was also wearing fairly strange yet very expensive clothing. He hadn't really scrutinized the clothing, though. It was a second thought to him. He was too busy looking at... other details. It wasn't his fault! If she decided to wear such tight clothing, she should expect to get stared at.

As the last beams of the dying light shone through the open doors, Shelby decided she had done the sensible thing and stayed inside as dusk arrived. He took two candles from the back room and lit them in the burning coals of the forge, then stepped outside to the cooling air. Shelby savored the breeze, thankfully not strong enough to burn out the candles, and placed them in the candelabras outside.

Just as he was about to head inside, Shelby caught a flash of red run up the hill in his peripheral vision. It was the woman, who seemed to be racing against time in order to meet him at sunset. His heart skipped a beat. She hadn't seen him yet, which he took as a cue to go back in. He faced his back to the door, and braced himself.

Shelby heard the woman step into his doorway, breathing heavily. He turned around, and despite knowing she was there, he did a double take. She was beautiful, still lacking a purse, but he wasn't disappointed by that in the least. If she had no money, he would be more than happy to take another form of payment in the back room.