I Will Be the Greatest Knight
Chapter 51: A Brief Visit

Chapter 51: A Brief Visit

The southern region of Chemois, where the border blurred with northern Hydrogia and wars had been fought there for years before, was sparsely populated.

There were few who wanted to be involved in the heavy politicking of such a place. Even more than that, there were floodplains that could wash away an entire house during the yearly snow melt. It made travel impossible for nearly a month in the early spring of each year.

As Sir Arthur led two other knights through the duchy on behalf of Duke Arlin to ensure that most major townships were taken care of with food stores and supplies, they started closing in on the end of their journey.

The knights could tell it was coming to a close by the way the air felt heavy and frost started appearing in the grasses at night. It made for uncomfortable sleep unless close to a fire, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. All they could do was hope that the nights in an inn were far more than the nights without.

That day felt particularly cold as Arthur’s boots crunched against the debris on top of brick-lined roads. He lifted the silver helmet off of his head. With it rose the steam from his mouth despite it being late morning. Fortunately, the night before was one of the nights they would be able to stay in an inn. On the other hand, it would be the last night and they would have to camp before they reached the Duke’s Tower.

Arthur had allowed the other knights to go off into the township and do as they pleased because his reasoning for being there in the first place wasn’t an official visit. It was more along the lines of something he told his daughter he would do the last time he was there.

After he checked on his horse who stayed overnight at one of the numerous stables in the township, the knight continued on towards the blacksmith which—according to Sir Gunnar—was in an obvious place considering it wasn’t against any of the other white plastered buildings with exposed dark wood edges.

Smoke rose from the large chimney and the clanking of hammers against anvils could be heard. The wide door to the place wasn’t even closed because the inside of the building still remained rather warm.

Arthur walked inside, his head swiveling left and right as he took in the place. It was one of the larger blacksmith shops he had ever seen before which was no wonder the knighthood used it so often. With the mother he had, however, he never required a blacksmith. Unfortunately, with her health declining and age not getting any less, he feared he might have to procure weapons a different way. The thought always made the bitter tinge of sadness sting his heart.

A few of the apprentices nodded at the knight and one of the older ones with his workstation closer to the back room than the others, stood up straight.

"Excuse me, sir," the teenager said. "Samson! There’s a knight here!"

However, the apprentice didn’t move and continued hammering away at what looked to be a plate of hardened steel. Whoever ordered that armor was paying a pretty penny, without a doubt.

As his light brown eyes moved towards the door where a shuffling noise was heard, Arthur’s red eyebrows rose when he saw only a somewhat familiar face. The man was a bear compared to what he was like when he was younger. As Irene told him, far more scarred than before as well.

"Arthur?" the blacksmith said in disbelief. "I suppose I should say ’Sir Arthur, shouldn’t I?"

His eyes crinkled and a loud laugh erupted from the depths of his chest. It caused Arthur to grin as well.

"Old friend," the knight greeted. "Calling me something so official would make me uncomfortable. I knew you when you were still scared of forest faeries."

They embraced one another with rough pats on each others’ backs.

"What brings you all the way here?" he asked. "I understand from your child that you have remained in the north-central region."

Calling Irene a ’she’ was at the edge of his tongue but he managed to realize that before he continued speaking.

"He’s the reason I’m here today," Arthur admitted. "That, and I was in the area after touring the duchy for winterization."

Samson stroked his beard thoughtfully, but then he gestured for Arthur to go to the back room that he used as a workroom for more tedious tasks. It was just next to the armory where Irene had been only a short while before, but, as the seasons changed, he realized just how long it had been.

"That’s something His Grace would do, isn’t it?" Samson asked, wondering if he would get answers about questions he kept seeing being raised all throughout the township. "Is he as sick as what’s been said?"

Even though they didn’t have the relationship they had before and all through adulthood they didn’t have trust built, Arthur felt he could speak freely considering Samson himself was insistent on hiding the conversation.

"Even I am unsure of the extent of his illness," Arthur admitted. "He hasn’t been an active commander for the knights in quite some time now."

Samson’s dark eyebrows lowered as he considered it. The main worry was the duchy’s lack of heirs. So far no one was certain what was in the Duke’s will if it came to an untimely end for the man.

"The Duchess passed through this way on her return from central Hydrogia," Samson explained. "That was only a couple of weeks ago but the entourage she requires didn’t go without notice. I do hope that means the Duke is getting the healing he needs."

Arthur wasn’t fond of the Duchess so all he could do was nod and hold his tongue in regards to her.

"I hope the same," Arthur admitted. "But this isn’t my reason for visiting. I was making sure that your business is well. There are more monster sightings than usual. I have a feeling you will be a busy man. Can your business support this or is there a need for funds to hire more apprentices and other fully trained blacksmiths?"

"Sales reduce in the winter of most everything except for horseshoes," Samson explained. "I will handle whatever is thrown at me."

"I’m glad to hear that—"

Arthur was cut off when the apprentice from before shouted again.

"Samson! A messenger hawk has been trying to enter various buildings!"

They couldn’t have been in there for more than a few moments and the blacksmith pushed the door open once more.

"Where?"

Arthur strode forward and was surprised to see a greyish hawk swoop through the open door and divebomb him. Luckily he was wearing armor.

Not only that, but he recognized the distraught raptor.

"This is Blade, His Grace’s messenger hawk," Arthur explained with an incredulous expression. "Has something happened to the Duke?"

As he removed the scroll with one of his gloved hands, Arthur flung his arm that the hawk was having trouble gripping onto because of the smooth armor and he forced the bird to fly away.

"Get a snack," he ordered the bird who was already on his way out.

A few had stopped hammering the projects they were working on and even Samson stood still as he watched Arthur unfurl the letter.

The paper dropped from his hands.

"It’s my child," he uttered.

"Forgive me, I—"

Samson held up a hand.

"I would never consider a man going after his child impolite," Samson explained. "Godspeed."