Chapter 18: The Blacksmith
The steady rhythm of hammers carried across Oakridge from the riverbank.
Fresh timber had been measured and stacked beside the old mill, rotten sections of the outer framework had been stripped away, and Master Rowan had already reduced three younger volunteers to nervous silence over joints that were, in his words, crooked enough to offend the tree they came from.
No, not like that
Rowan struck the edge of a support beam with the end of his cane before pointing toward the joint.
If you’re off by even a finger’s width here, the wheel won’t care how proud you were when you built it. It’ll shake itself apart before winter
The young man holding the brace adjusted it again.
Rowan leaned closer, checked the angle, then finally stepped back.
There. Now it might survive long enough for your grandchildren to complain about repairing it
Several villagers laughed.
Even the apprentice smiled.
Kael stood farther away with Edwin, watching more than the construction itself. Two days earlier, most of these people had treated the mill as part of the landscape, something broken long enough that imagining it repaired felt foolish. Now they argued about beams, searched sheds for old tools, and stopped Rowan in the street to ask whether he needed more hands.
Edwin followed Kael’s gaze.
They’ve almost forgotten you’re a prince
Kael smiled.
Good
You say that very easily
Because they’re starting to argue with me
Edwin raised an eyebrow.
You consider that progress?
Absolutely. People who are afraid of me will agree with everything I say and let me make stupid decisions
Edwin gave him a thoughtful look.
That may become one of your more useful habits if you manage to keep it after people begin calling you powerful
Kael glanced toward him.
Was that advice?
A warning
Those were becoming increasingly difficult to distinguish.
They continued through Oakridge.
The noise of the mill gradually faded behind them, replaced by quieter village sounds: cart wheels, livestock, doors opening, someone splitting wood behind a house. Walter had joined them again, partly because he knew nearly everyone in Oakridge and partly because, as he claimed, watching Kael discover obvious things had become entertaining.
The western side of the village looked poorer than the center.
Several workshops had closed over the years, and one building near the road caught Kael’s attention immediately.
A forge.
Or what had once been one.
The chimney was cracked near the top, no smoke rose from it, and the wooden sign above the entrance had faded until its original design was nearly impossible to make out. Weeds grew beside the doors.
Kael stopped.
Oakridge has a blacksmith
Walter sighed.
Had one
Had?
Walter moved toward the doors.
Come see
The heavy wood groaned when he pushed it open.
Dust drifted through shafts of sunlight inside.
The forge was cold.
An anvil stood near the center of the workshop, scarred from years of use. Tools hung along the walls, many older but better maintained than Kael expected. Half-finished horseshoes rested on one bench, while farming implements, cooking pots, hinges, wagon brackets, plow blades, and several other pieces occupied shelves around the room.
It did not look abandoned.
Not completely.
Kael approached the anvil and ran his fingers over its surface.
A forge shouldn’t be this quiet
Walter looked toward the rear room.
It didn’t used to be
Heavy footsteps followed.
A man emerged from the darker section of the workshop.
He was tall, broad enough through the shoulders that the doorway seemed smaller around him. His arms carried the thick muscle of someone who had spent most of his life swinging a hammer, and soot had permanently worked its way into lines along his hands. His beard was rough, his clothes plain and stained despite the cold furnace, and there was a deep weariness in his face that had little to do with physical exhaustion.
Walter lifted a hand.
Morning, Garrick
The man gave a small nod.
Walter
Then his attention moved to Kael.
So you’re the prince
Kael stepped forward.
Kael Asterion
I know
For a few seconds Garrick simply looked him over.
Not reverently.
Not nervously.
More like a craftsman inspecting unfamiliar metal.
You don’t look much like a prince
Lily frowned behind Kael.
And what exactly is a prince supposed to—
Kael raised one hand gently.
Let him answer
He looked back at Garrick.
What does one look like?
Garrick crossed his arms.
Soft hands. Expensive boots. Talks about hard work while other people sweat for him
Kael glanced down at his own boots.
These were expensive once
Garrick’s expression barely changed.
And now?
Now they’ve survived enough roads to regret knowing me
Walter coughed to hide a laugh.
Garrick studied Kael again.
You’re too curious
I’ll accept that as an improvement
It wasn’t meant as one
Too late
A faint movement touched one corner of Garrick’s mouth.
Not quite a smile.
Close.
Kael walked farther into the workshop.
The variety of work interested him more than the swords mounted along one wall. Plow components. Horseshoes. Pots. Nails. Hinges. Agricultural blades. Wagon fittings. Mining picks.
Things ordinary people needed every day.
Then he noticed the unfinished work.
Every piece had been covered with cloth.
Kael lifted one edge.
The iron beneath was clean.
Oiled.
Protected from rust.
He looked toward Garrick.
You intended to come back
The blacksmith’s expression changed.
Why do you think that?
Kael nodded toward the covered tools.
You haven’t been using the forge, but you’re still maintaining everything. Someone who truly gave up would have let the rust take it
Walter smiled faintly.
Told you he’d notice things
Garrick looked away.
Old habits
Maybe
Kael replaced the cloth carefully.
Why did you stop?
Garrick did not answer.
Walter’s expression became less amused.
Garrick—
Let him decide whether he wants to tell me
That seemed to surprise both men.
Kael leaned against an empty workbench.
I’m not asking because I need gossip. If House Kael wants craftsmen working again, I need to know why craftsmen stopped
Garrick stared at him for several seconds.
Then he walked toward the cold furnace.
Three years ago, Halwen’s office issued production orders to every major forge still operating in this part of Blackwood
Kael’s attention sharpened.
For what?
Weapons
Walter answered quietly.
Spears. Short swords. Arrowheads. Shield fittings
Kael looked toward Garrick.
And you refused
The blacksmith turned.
Yes
Why?
Garrick pointed toward the wall.
My forge made plows before I was old enough to swing the hammer properly. My father made plows here. Horseshoes. Wagon brackets. Kitchen knives. Hinges. Tools for cutting harvest
His voice stayed controlled, but the force beneath it grew.
My steel helps people grow food, build homes, move grain, keep roofs standing. I had no problem making weapons for village defense or Imperial soldiers protecting these roads
He looked directly at Kael.
I did have a problem making weapons for men who used them to frighten the same farmers paying for the iron
Lily’s expression changed.
Edwin remained still.
Kael looked toward the cold forge.
What happened after you refused?
Contracts disappeared
Garrick shrugged.
Orders from nearby settlements were redirected through smiths willing to cooperate. My charcoal permit became harder to renew. Iron shipments arrived late or not at all
Walter added quietly.
And somehow every administrative fee connected to the forge increased
Garrick’s jaw tightened.
Nothing they could call punishment on paper
Kael understood immediately.
No dramatic arrest.
No official seizure.
Just enough pressure to make operating impossible.
You closed before they could take it from you
Garrick nodded.
Better a cold forge than one I was ashamed to light
The room fell quiet.
Kael had met people who talked about principles when principles cost nothing.
Garrick had lost his livelihood.
That was different.
A brief System notice appeared.
[Garrick Ironhand]
[Age: 42]
[Profession: Master Blacksmith]
[Evaluation: Exceptional]
[Special Trait detected: The Forge That Serves the People]
Kael dismissed it almost immediately.
He had already decided the man mattered.
Kael walked toward the anvil and picked up one of the hammers.
It was heavier than he expected.
Garrick noticed the way his wrist shifted.
Wrong grip
Kael looked over.
I’m holding it
You’re surviving it
Kael laughed and set the hammer down.
Point taken
Then he looked around the workshop.
I don’t need swords from you
Garrick’s eyes narrowed slightly.
What do you need?
Nails
That answer seemed to catch him off guard.
Kael continued.
Hinges. Brackets. Mill fittings. Wheel bands. Bridge bolts. Plow parts. Better tools for farmers. Pumps eventually, if the designs work. Drainage equipment. Maybe presses later
Garrick frowned.
Presses?
Printing
The blacksmith stared.
Kael smiled.
Long explanation
You’ve been here five minutes and already want things nobody’s making
That’s going to become a problem, isn’t it?
Probably
Good
Garrick shook his head.
And why should I believe any of this?
Kael’s answer came immediately.
You shouldn’t
The room went still.
Garrick’s brow furrowed.
Kael continued.
You’ve known me less than five minutes. I’ve ruled Blackwood for less than a week. If you trust everything I say because I was born an Asterion, then I’d question your judgment
Walter folded his arms, clearly pleased.
Kael nodded toward the open doors.
Listen instead
The distant sound of work from the mill reached the forge.
Hammers.
Voices.
Someone shouting because Rowan had apparently found another unacceptable beam.
Kael looked back at Garrick.
Believe the mill when it turns. Believe the wells when they’re repaired. Believe the roads when carts stop breaking on them. Judge House Kael by what actually gets built
Garrick’s expression became harder to read.
And if none of it happens?
Then don’t work for me
Simple
It should be
Garrick looked toward his tools.
For a long moment nobody spoke.
Then he asked.
If I reopen this forge, what happens when you need weapons?
Kael considered the question seriously.
I’ll ask
Ask?
Yes
You’re a prince
I noticed
Garrick’s eyes narrowed.
You can order me
Legally? Maybe in certain circumstances
Kael shook his head.
But if I build House Kael by forcing every useful person to serve me, then I didn’t build loyalty. I built resentment with a better banner
Edwin glanced toward him.
That answer seemed to surprise even the old steward.
Kael continued.
Blackwood will eventually need soldiers. Those soldiers will need armor and weapons. I’m not going to pretend otherwise
Garrick’s expression tightened.
Then we have a problem
Maybe
Kael looked toward the farming tools.
What exactly won’t you make?
Weapons for people who use them to prey on civilians
And weapons for soldiers defending Blackwood?
Garrick hesitated.
That’s different
Kael nodded.
Then we understand each other better already
Lily looked relieved.
Garrick still didn’t.
He approached Kael.
I have one condition
Kael waited.
My forge will never make slave chains
The words changed the room.
Walter looked toward the floor.
Edwin’s expression sharpened.
Garrick continued.
Not collars. Not shackles for slave caravans. Not branding irons. Nothing built for buying and selling people
Kael’s answer came without hesitation.
Agreed
Garrick stared at him.
That quickly?
Kael stepped closer.
I don’t support slavery
The blacksmith’s expression remained skeptical.
A lot of nobles say they dislike ugly things until the ugly thing makes them money
Then watch what I do
Garrick held his gaze.
And if House Kael ever changes?
Then you remind me of this conversation
Kael extended his hand.
And if I become the kind of lord who orders you to forge chains for slaves, don’t light the furnace for me either
Garrick looked at the hand.
The silence stretched.
Then his massive fingers closed around Kael’s.
The grip was painful.
Kael refused to show it.
Garrick noticed anyway.
Soft hands
Kael grimaced.
You’re enjoying this now
A real smile finally appeared beneath the blacksmith’s beard.
A little
He released Kael.
The System appeared again.
[House Development Opportunity identified]
[Blackwood Forge Restoration]
Master Smith candidate: Garrick Ironhand
Primary needs: charcoal, iron supply, roof repair, chimney restoration, apprentices, operating capital
Kael studied the list.
No instant forge.
No magical production increase.
Just more work.
That was becoming familiar.
He dismissed the notification.
How long before this place can operate again?
Garrick looked toward the furnace.
If the chimney is repaired and I get decent charcoal, a few days for basic work
Iron?
That’s harder
Why?
Halwen
Of course
Garrick walked toward a small ledger on the workbench.
Most legal iron coming into western Blackwood passes through contracted merchants approved by his office
Kael’s expression flattened.
Add it to the list
Edwin already had his notebook open.
Timber, mill assessments, tax discrepancies, iron contracts—
Kael looked toward him.
You sound tired
I am documenting your first week, Your Highness
Walter laughed.
Garrick looked between them.
What exactly are you planning to do when Halwen arrives?
Kael’s smile disappeared.
Listen
Garrick stared.
That’s it?
First
And after?
Kael looked around the forge.
Depends what he says when the records are sitting in front of him
Garrick nodded slowly.
For the first time, there was something approaching respect in his expression.
Not loyalty.
Not yet.
That was fine.
Kael was beginning to dislike loyalty that arrived too quickly.
They spent another hour inspecting the forge.
The chimney required masonry work before Garrick would risk a full fire. Several roof tiles had failed near the rear. The bellows needed new leather. The main anvil remained usable, as did most of Garrick’s hand tools.
More importantly, Garrick still possessed knowledge.
He knew which farmers needed plow repairs.
Which wagons had been patched too many times.
Which villages lacked a reliable smith.
Which tools were constantly imported from Aurelia at prices Blackwood families could barely afford.
Kael wrote names and problems until Lily finally took his notebook away.
Enough
Kael stared at her.
Did you just confiscate something from an Imperial Prince?
Yes
Why?
Because you haven’t eaten since morning
Garrick looked impressed.
Keep her
She’s apparently decided that herself
Lily handed the notebook to Edwin.
Kael sighed.
Traitors everywhere
Walter laughed.
The forge no longer felt quite as cold.
Before Kael left, Garrick remained near the furnace.
His hand rested against the old stone.
Kael stopped at the doorway.
Tomorrow?
Garrick looked toward him.
Tomorrow what?
Do you start?
The blacksmith stared at the cold forge again.
First I repair the bellows
Kael smiled.
I’ll take that
He stepped outside.
Behind him, Garrick remained alone for several minutes.
Then he crossed the workshop, removed the cloth covering his main hammer, and carried it toward the anvil.
The metal had been polished regularly for three years despite having nothing to strike.
Garrick rested it there.
Tomorrow, Blackwood’s forge would not be completely alive again.
But for the first time in years, its blacksmith had begun preparing to light the fire.