Page 12 of Forcing Fate

“Ah, what did you say, lass? Speak up so an old man can hear you!”

I cleared my throat, then repeated myself in a manner far louder than appropriate for a lady.

“No, no, I’ll be off soon. You just get started on those, there on the floor,” he chuckled, muttering more nonsense as he set some kind of sharp tool to the binding on the shield’s edge.

I took a deep breath, then knelt to pick up the papers. Surely this would not be so bad.

Chapter Four

Evidently, Master Damon did not get the message that I was supposed to help with his classes. Less than a chime after I arrived, he got up and walked out the door without a word. He’d been gone all morning. Well past midday, and I was covered in dust, grime, and ink.

I blew a stray hair out of my face and surveyed my work. All papers and parchment were piled into neat stacks in alphabetical order. I organized all shield designs and strategy drafts by category and title. I took my time with the drawings, and though they gave little insight concerning the Shadow Men, they did give me an insight into the war.

After bonding with a dragon, I would fight alongside men using these same shields and strategies. I would attack the enemy, but also protect these men. I then realized that this time assisting the War Masters was an opportunity for me to know what to expect when I became a Dragon Rider.

With all the papers and documents sorted, I stood there, not knowing quite what to do. The only chair available was at Master Damon’s desk and sitting at a Master’s desk was ill-mannered. He didn’t tell me to touch anything else, and I didn’t want to upset him by moving something that he had organized in some obscure way.

I stood with my hands clasped in front of me, looking out the window. It was currently three chimes after midday. Two chimes remained until Willhelm came to fetch me.

I hadn’t eaten anything aside from the roll and dried fruit. It was hardly enough to sustain me the entire day. With the school Masters, I took midday meals with them either before or after their classes. Master Damon left me with no instructions other than to sort through his papers. Normally, I was not one to complain, but I hated idleness. I could do so much more than just stand here without purpose. With only so much time a day, I wasn’t one to waste any of it.

Leery but determined, I headed to the door. Willhelm hinted that the men here might not be the most friendly, but I needed to find Master Damon to figure out what I was supposed to do next.

The afternoon was pleasantly warm. I left my cloak draped on top of a pile of discarded shields and walked out into the sunshine. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, I smiled up at the sun.

A repetitive clanging drew my attention to the blacksmith, hard at work near the forge. I turned toward him, thinking he might be able to help me find Master Damon. I stood outside the fence, careful not to invade his workspace. He was a large man, as to be expected of a smith. Dark lensed goggles concealed his eyes.

“Pardon, sir,” I called over the clanging.

He either didn’t hear me or ignored me, so I waved my hands and repeated myself, leaning over the fence. He used giant tongs to put a circular piece of metal back in the coals and turned to face me, lifting his goggles.

“Miss?” he answered hesitantly, taking in my dress and hair.

“I beg your pardon, I was simply wondering if you knew where Master Damon might be?” I flashed him a bright smile, hoping it would encourage him to help.

Sweat beaded at his temple, running a trail through the grime caked on his face. The day was warm, but the forge was molten. Blacksmithing was brutal work.

“He’d be out teaching the first year cadets right about now.” His voice was raspy, as if he didn’t use it often. I assumed the metal didn’t require conversational skills.

“Wonderful! Do you happen to know which direction that might be?”

Please don’t escort me, please don’t.

He jerked his head in a westerly direction and frowned. “Miss, you shouldn’t go alone. Perhaps you should wait till someone fetches you. It wouldn’t look right.”

“I’m sorry, look right… how?” Pressing my lips together in a frown, I studied his serious face.

On school grounds, we had independence and could go where we pleased as long as it was in our free time.

“Ah… miss, a young lady such as yourself, wandering about without a chaperon in a place like this…” He took off a heavy glove and rubbed the nape of his neck, glancing back at the forge as if the metal would jump out and rescue him from this conversation.

“Please, sir. I don’t understand. Is it because women do not frequent the barracks?” I asked.

“They’re not allowed.” He shrugged, putting his glove back on.

“Because there are so many men?”

His gaze returned to his forge once again, and I knew I wouldn’t have him much longer.

---