A Sword And Sorcery Adventure Book Series With Dragons
Escaping Dragons by Neil O'Donnell
Series Excerpt
Thomas stayed true to his word, fixing things for the inn and its guests while directing residents to the village smiths. Of course, he spent time coaching the villagers on what to ask and giving them pointed questions to ask before handing over coin for any work they had done. He most certainly encouraged them to ask about seeking some sort of guarantee should a smithy’s repairs fail in some way. To an extent, it was a tiny dig or last laugh he got in as, truth be told, he was still angered at how the smiths had treated Grier.
For the most part, his days were spent reworking iron scraps from the barrel and turning out nails, huntsman axes, spike hatchets, and other tools he figured some travelers might need. Grier eventually even set up a display of the goods in the inn by the check-in counter he’d made for his wife when they first opened the inn. Sales were slow, but Grier made a sufficient amount to more than cover any expenses he incurred from having Thomas on his staff. Some weeks, sales of Thomas’s tools covered costs for all inn employees.
It was near three weeks of snow and rain after the confrontation with the village smiths that a coach arrived carrying a host of well-to-dos who thought little of the inn and less of their coach driver. Thomas could hear them yammering on about the rough ride and lack of comfort the coach offered. It was later that morning that Thomas finally ventured out to find the coach driver atop the coach’s roof attempting to hammer in a nail, wielding a splitting maul head instead of a hammer. He could hear the soft cursing of the driver as he crept up on the coach.
“Must say, that’s the first time seeing a maul used for a roof repair,” Thomas said as he looked up at the rather gaunt driver. The middle-aged man glared down at Thomas before returning his focus to the work at hand.
“Yeah, well, the roof took damage during a storm, and I had thought the repairs I did would hold until the end of the month, but a combination of rough roads and hail storms have made things unbearable. To make matters worse, some hooligan made off with my tool chest a couple villages back. I was left with but this maul head to work with and a few nails the last innkeeper gave me.” The driver, clad in roughspun trousers and a gray cotton shirt, both garments nearing the end of their lives, looked defeated. He stopped hammering with the maul head for a moment taking time to wipe the sweat from his brow. “Had to use my leather jacket as a makeshift tarp to keep the rain out, my travel clothes included to help limit the rain that got in on my less-than-understanding passengers. Bastards one and all.” The driver spoke the last in a hushed voice, but still he scanned around to check for any eavesdroppers.
“Did the coach’s owner not give you any travel money for emergency expenses.”
“I’m the owner, cursed that I am. Had a good bit of coin, but I lost some gambling and the rest was spent to pay for complementary meals for my passengers, given their grumblings. Snivelin’, ungrateful shits that they are.” He returned to his work without another word. Thomas took the hint and left, returning to the barn. He didn’t stay there long. Near a quarter-hour later, the smith returned with a ladder and, wearing a tool belt, including pockets containing nails along with a ball-peen hammer, two chisels, pliers, and an awl. He was up on the coach roof in no time and assessed things for a repair.
“I got wood for replacement shingles and a tarp for you to keep for future roof emergencies. Plus, I could give you a few tools to tide you over till you can restock your tools and supplies.”
“And how much will that all cost me?”
“How ’bout I just take that maul head off your hands and we call it even?” The man looked down at the maul for a second.
“You’d do all that for this piece of crap?”
“Yes sir.”
“You got yourself a deal then. My name’s Timothy.”
“And I’m Thomas.” The two shook hands before going off to the barn to get wood for new shingles. The repairs themselves took less than an hour to complete. The real issue had been Timothy’s lack of tools and hardware with which to make the repairs. After finishing, they returned to the barn where Thomas handed over the tool belt he wore, tools and all. He then provided Timothy with wood for future shingle repairs, a jar filled with nails, and a bearded axe.
“The axe should come in handy in case of any future hooligans,” Thomas said, smiling. “If you have no coin left, how do you pay for rooms at inns?”
“I don’t. I’ve been sleeping in the coach and fishing for meals.” Thomas suspected as much.
“Tonight you can sleep in the barn on some fresh hay, and I will get you a nice, warm meal from the innkeeper. You can also get the inn’s maid to wash and stitch up your good clothes.” Timothy was more than delighted at the aid offered. The plan was to depart at sunrise the next day, which provided time for Timothy to rest. He didn’t rest for long. Taking the wheelbarrow, he headed to the woods and gathered up wood for the fireplace. He ended up making a number of trips, and by the time he was finished, he’d secured sufficient wood to keep the fire going for a couple of weeks. Meanwhile, Thomas got to work on the maul head.
Once the forge was ready, Thomas began in earnest reworking the head, from maul to war hammer. The blunt edge of the maul needed no fixing. As for the tool’s cutting edge, Thomas hammered that bit to a wicked point, a point that should easily puncture armor, whether plate, chain, or leather. Adding a 30-inch hickory handle, Thomas found himself armed with seven-pound weighted hammer head to aid in any less-than-friendly encounters he met on the roads ahead.
“Damn fine work, Sir,” Timothy said as he brought in his last load of firewood to find Thomas swinging the war hammer to adjust to its weight and balance. The smith smiled.
“The innkeep brought you some ham, bread and mead. Take a break and eat, after which we can give your coach a once-over and tighten up whatever needs tightening. Maybe we’ll get your passengers more comfortable.” After the late lunch, the two men surveyed the coach, where they found numerous bits of hardware that needed adjustments. The adjustments did make for a better ride for the duration of Timothy’s travels, but his passengers just seemed to find other things to complain about. By evening, after a hearty dinner of roast chicken and potatoes, Thomas and Timothy returned to the barn where they spoke briefly before heading to sleep a bit early; both were beyond exhausted, given the day of work they’d completed. Come morning, Timothy took a bath before donning his good clothes and leather coat. He seemed more than eager to shed the rags he’d been wearing for the last couple of days.
“Here’s for your journey,” Thomas said, handing over a bag of foodstuffs and a small pouch that clinked as he lifted it. “Just a few silver in case you want a meal along the way, other than fish.”
“Can’t thank you enough, Thomas. Your parents did a great job.” Timothy and his passengers left shortly after sunrise, everyone reveling in the meals and soft beds Grier had provided. Even the most surly of Timothy’s retinue were most appreciative of the coach driver’s selection of the inn. It was hours after night fell and dinner finished that Grier found himself wandering out to the barn where Thomas had a good fire going. The innkeep, as always, carried a bottle of whiskey, along with a much smaller pewter flask, the latter tucked in his pocket. Without a word, he walked up to the smith and handed over the bottle.
“Was hoping you’d stop by,” Thomas said as poured out a half cup of the amber-hued beverage.
“Well, I was hoping to have a last drink or two with you before you left,” Grier replied as he sat on his milking stool before taking a swig of whiskey right from the bottle.
“How’d you know I was leaving?”
“I saw ya give your coin to the coachman. Now armed with that less-than-friendly-lookin’ war hammer, I suspected by lunch you were fixin’ to leave. East still, I take it?”
“Figured I’d head out just after sunrise while the others are busy with work. That way, maybe I’ll avoid long goodbyes.”
“And miss any of the maids trying to convince you to stay?” Thomas nodded. “Welp, if you’re aimin’ ta go, you’ll need this.” He tossed Thomas the pewter flask. “Filled with my best, so be frugal with your sips.” Again, Thomas nodded before resting the flask on the floor by his pack. With that, Grier stood and extended his hand. “You’ll always be welcome here, Thomas. So, when your travelin’ days are done, we’d love to see you back here.” After a firm handshake, the innkeep was off. Not long after, Grier’s wife stopped in with a sack filled with food for the road, some seed cakes, a half-loaf of bread, a bit of salt pork, and a small belt pouch filled with a mix of raisins and nuts. After giving the smith a big hug and a smooch on the cheek, she left, tears flowing. Thomas, wanting to avoid further tears, left when the sun was just peeking over the horizon.
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