Chapter 6
“This will be where you’ll forge my sword,” said Martin, showing Wallace the blacksmith shop in his castle’s courtyard.
“Thank you, my lord,” said Wallace, entering the shop with a box of tools in his hands. Winter entered right behind him.
When they’d docked at Goswick, Martin had his crew unload their supplies as well as his horses. He had several wagons waiting, and his things as well as the blacksmith’s things were loaded into the cart. They’d then traveled to Castle Heaton that was over the River Twill just outside Cornhill-on-Tweed and near Coldstream.
Martin couldn’t stop thinking about Winnie’s question, asking him the size of his castle. The truth was – his castle wasn’t all that big. But if she had really meant what he thought she meant, then he wasn’t lying. And he still planned on giving her an exclusive tour of his castle – in every way.
“This shop is amazing,” said Wallace’s daughter, walking through the room examining every little thing, even though her father didn’t look around at all. She ran her hand along the anvil, caressing it like a lover. This only made Martin’s thoughts stronger of taking her to his bed. By right, he could demand she join him in the bedchamber. After all, she was only a commoner. She was naught but a mere tradesman’s daughter. Perhaps he would do that later. For now, his primary concern was getting the blacksmith to construct his sword as quickly as possible.
“I’d like you to get started working on my sword right away.” He stopped his squire who had entered the room with a wooden box. “Hold up, Rock,” Martin told him, opening the box and taking out the Damascus steel. He held it in two hands, carefully, wanting nothing to happen to his prized possession. “Have you ever seen such fine steel before?”
“Nay,” said Rock. “I haven’t.”
“I wasn’t talking to you, Squire. I was talking to the blacksmith.”
“Nay, I can’t say I have,” said Wallace.
Martin ran his fingers along the top of the block of steel. “I paid dearly as well as traded for this. If anything happens to it, I will be very upset.” He held it out to the blacksmith. The man hesitated to take it, but the girl shot forward.
“I’ll take that,” she said, holding out her arms.
He contemplated whether to hand it to her or not. After all, she was just a young girl. “I’m not sure you know the importance of this or anything about it,” he told her.
Her hands lowered slowly. “Do you mean that Damascus steel was first brought back by Crusaders or would you be talking about the fact it is sometimes called wootz? It is made by melting pieces of iron and steel with charcoal using reduced oxygen, so the metal absorbs the carbon. It’s then cooled at a slow rate. Forging the metal alters the structure, making the wavy, decorative bands that, when shaped into a long sword, makes it stronger but at the same time more durable.”
“Oh, you do know something about it,” he said, very impressed since he hadn’t even known everything she just rattled off nonchalantly.
“Once forged into a sword, Damascus steel is so sharp that if a hair fell across it, it would be cut in two.” Her hands went out, and she waited. He slowly and carefully laid it in her arms.
“Your father has taught you well. Now, be careful with that. I don’t want you to do any of the work on it. Only a master craftsman like your father is allowed to hammer and temper the steel. Once he completes the sword, I’ll use to kill my enemy.”
“Kill your enemy?” she asked with wide eyes as if the idea shocked her.
“Why did you think I wanted the sword? To hang on the wall in the great hall? Of course, I’m going to use it.”
“Of course,” she mumbled, putting the steel down on a wooden bench.
“My lord, if you don’t mind me asking, where will we live?” asked Wallace.
“You’ll stay here at the smithy in the back room. My former blacksmith died recently, so you’ll have the place to yourself. As for your daughter – I won’t have her staying here out of my sight. The guards sometimes get well in their cups, and I can’t protect her from randy men unless she is in the castle with me.”
“I’ll be staying in the castle?” The girl’s head jerked upward at hearing this.
“You can stay in a room with the old healer woman, Nairnie. She seems to keep a good eye on you.”
“Did I hear my name mentioned, my lord?” Nairnie hobbled into the blacksmith shop carrying a large travel bag over her shoulder.
“Aye,” said Martin. “You and the girl will stay in a room next to mine during your visit. You will all eat in the great hall. But Blacksmith, I don’t want to see your face unless it’s for a meal. Every waking moment, you will spend constructing my sword. I need it as quickly as possible.”
“Aye, my lord,” said the blacksmith with a nod of his head.
“Rock, take the ladies to the castle and have my steward show them to their room,” commanded Martin. “I’m going to stay here and give the blacksmith instructions as he starts working on my sword.”
“Aye, milord,” said Rock, heading to the door.
Winter’s heart jumped into her throat. She couldn’t leave now. Not when Lord de Grey was going to give Wallace instructions and planned on watching as he constructed the sword.
“My father works better when he is well-rested,” she blurted out. “I think it would be better if he started the work first thing in the morning.” She held her breath hoping this would work.
“Your father doesn’t seem able to speak for himself,” said Martin.
“Aye, I agree with Winnie,” the blacksmith finally spoke up. “She is right. Tomorrow would be better. My head will be clearer then.”
“All right,” he said. “But I still want to go over the instructions with you, Wallace.”
“I’ll stay too,” said Winter, pulling up a chair. “Since I’m his assistant, it would be good if I heard your plans as well.”
Martin looked at the girl suspiciously. She was acting odd. He had a feeling she was hiding something, but he didn’t know what. Still, since she was Wallace’s assistant, mayhap it would be good if she were there as well. “All right,” he agreed. “I’ve already told the blacksmith what I require, but since it has been so long, I’ll go over my instructions again.” Wallace seemed a little absent-minded, reminding Martin of his own father at times. He could only hope the blacksmith wasn’t addled, or he’d never get his sword.
* * *
Winter entered the great hall with Nairnie later that day, joining the others for the main meal.
“Ye willna pull this off,” Nairnie warned her. “Ye need to tell Lord de Grey the truth.”
“Nay, don’t say anything, Nairnie,” she begged in a soft voice. “You heard what Lord de Grey said. He doesn’t want me doing anything to forge his sword. If he knew I was a noblewoman, he’d be even less apt to allow me in the smithy. Then, where would poor Wallace and Josef be? They would be doomed. I have to help them.”
“Fine, but just dinna think I’m goin’ to be involved in this deception. Ye are on yer own, lassie.” Nairnie walked away.
“Ah, you’ve shown up for the meal,” said Martin, walking up behind her.
“Yes,” she said, once again wondering how he always seemed to sneak up on her without her knowing it. She hoped he hadn’t overheard her conversation with Nairnie.
“I suggest we get seated since the servers are waiting to bring the food.” He walked toward the dais and she automatically followed him up the steps. It wasn’t until he turned around and scowled at her that she realized her mistake.
“What are you doing on the dais?” he growled. “You’ll sit below the salt where commoners and servants belong.”
She was so used to sitting in the designated spot for a lady that she hadn’t thought twice about following him to the table of the nobles. How was she going to explain this?
“I . . . I . . .” Looking out to the sea of faces, she noticed Wallace walk in and take a seat at a long table next to Nairnie and several other tradesmen. “I was looking for my father and figured I could find him from up here. Oh, there he is,” she said, pretending to wave to Wallace even though he wasn’t looking in her direction.
Feeling the blush of embarrassment paint her cheeks, she quickly turned to go.
“Wait!” commanded Martin.
“My lord?” She slowly turned to face him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw everyone watching her.
“After the meal, I intend on showing you my castle. Just as I’ve promised.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary. I’ve seen most of it already today. But thank you just the same.” She started away, but Martin’s hand on her arm stopped her. His hot breath whispered in her ear.
“You haven’t seen it all. My bedchamber is something you will be quite familiar with by the morning.”
Her head snapped around and she looked directly at him. The sultry look as well as the hint of amusement in his eyes told her all she needed to know. He was talking about taking her to his bed. What was she to do? She couldn’t deny him – not while she was posing as the merchant’s daughter. He was a noble and could order any girl to sleep with him, and she couldn’t object. But he couldn’t do that with a lady.
She held her breath and blinked twice, not knowing what to say. It was much too soon to reveal her true identity. Her mind screamed for more time. With a small nod, she did the only thing she could in this dire situation. “I would like that, my lord,” she whispered, feeling scared out of her mind and yet excited at the same time.
“My lord, the servers would like to know if you are ready for the meal,” interrupted his steward. Martin’s gaze lingered for a moment, sending a sweeping sensation through her.
“Aye, we are ready,” he said, breaking the connection between them and turning away.
Winter rushed back to the table and scooted onto the bench next to Nairnie as the meal began.
“What were ye doin’ on the dais, lassie?” asked the old woman.
“I mistakenly went up there. I am not used to sitting down here below the salt.”
“I saw you talking to Lord de Grey,” said Wallace, leaning over to speak to her. “What did he say?”
Her eyes traveled from Wallace over to Nairnie.
“Aye, what was that look all about between ye?” asked Nairnie.
Winter wanted to tell them but didn’t think it would sit well with either of them, so she decided to keep at least part of the conversation to herself. “Lord de Grey is going to show me his castle after the meal.” A server laid a trencher, an old, stale crust of bread, between her and Nairnie. They would share this, serving as a plate for their food.
“Good,” said Wallace, shoving food into his mouth. “Find out where he’s keeping my son. I’ve yet to see Josef anywhere. Everyone I ask about him says they don’t know who he is. I can’t believe that. Josef has been here several months now. Why wouldn’t anyone know him?”
“I’m not sure,” said Winter. “But I promise you I will try to find out.”
“What else did he want?” asked Nairnie in her ever-knowing way.
“That was all.” Winter reached for a piece of cheese from the platter in front of her, placing it atop the trencher.
“Winter?” Nairnie prodded her to tell more.
“You worry too much, Nairnie.” Winter picked up the cheese, taking a bite. She inspected it as she talked, rather than to have to look into Nairnie’s eyes. If she had, the truth would be known. “Don’t wait up for me tonight. It might take longer than expected to see everything Lord de Grey has to show me.”
Nairnie leaned over, squinting one eye in that threatening way she usually used when trying to intimidate people into telling her what she wanted to know. “Dinna make an addled decision tonight. If he wants to show ye anythin’ besides the castle, ye hightail it back to the room as fast as ye can. Do ye understand me?”
“Have some cheese, Nairnie.” She plucked another hunk from the platter and handed it to the old healer. This piece was cut into a long strip.
Nairnie snatched it out of her hand, still giving her the evil eye. “I ken what ye’re up to, lassie, and I dinna like it.” She shook the cheese in Winter’s face as she scolded her. “If Lord de Grey so much as lays a finger on ye, I want ye to promise me ye’ll tell him ye are a lady.”
Winter didn’t want to make that promise. She was curious about kissing and making love with a man – especially a handsome knight like Martin. But if she didn’t promise, Nairnie would be pestering her throughout the entire meal.
“All right, Nairnie, I promise.” Just as the words left her mouth, she looked up to the dais to see Martin staring at her from across the room. He had one thing on his mind, and it excited her. The more Nairnie told her to stay away from him, the more she wanted to experience a touch and kiss from the powerful border lord, Sir Martin de Grey.