"Sword warrior?" Bortez replied to William's words in a dismissive style. "What kind of work is that?"
"You know, work like … Rogas has. I practice with him a lot. He said I have talent. Fit to be a warrior."
"Warrior? Rogas? He's just a mercenary!"
"Merce … what?" asked William, confused.
"Mercenary! Soldiers that the Kingdom of Alton pays to fight against raiders or enemy forces. Something like this exists too in the Kingdom of Tavarin, far south." Bortez shook his head. "Believe me, one day the two kingdoms will use these mercenaries to fight and kill each other, even though they may be from the same country. From the same village! I know that, William, because I've made swords for them several times. Huh, a warrior ..."
"But Rogas always said that he was a sword warrior," William replied adamantly. "Yeah, sort of. Anyway, the payoff is quite a lot, you know? When he comes he always treats people to food and drinks!"
"Do you mean someone can get richer by being a soldier than being a blacksmith?" Bortez grumbled. "What kind of stupid thought is that?" Then he shrugged. "Yes, it is possible. There's always a possibility. But to me, it doesn't matter."
"Well now, about what matter and not matter, which is more matter: making a sword, or using it?"
"Of course making swords!" Bortez snorted. "If the sword is not made first, how can it be used?"
"If it has been made and then not used, then what's the use?"
"That's not … What I meant earlier, it is not very important to be rich, if it's not useful to you," said Bortez. "Rogas came here with a lot of money, but look, what for? Only to be spent drinking and gambling. What a waste! Do you understand? Ah well, maybe you don't understand yet."
"I understand. I'm not a kid anymore. And I don't like gambling either. But if I drink a little it's okay, right?" William smirked. "But according to you, Uncle, am I suitable or not to be a mercenary?"
Bortez shook his head again. "William, a year ago a Tavarin merchant came and said you'd better be a stage performer in his country. He says you have a nice face and a good voice; the audience will be happy to see you. Do you remember what your answer was? You said you'd think about it. But you see, after two months you forget it. It's the same now, you'll soon forget what Rogas said. In my opinion, it's obvious that your talent is making swords. When I was your age, I didn't understand this at all, while you have almost mastered all the techniques now. You'll be great here. That is if you believe in my opinion."
"Do you not believe I can use a sword well? And become a warrior? Or mercenaries?" William insisted.
Bortez took a deep breath. "Okay, I believe you can. You're the strongest and the most skilled boy I've ever seen. You can be anything you want. I've seen you practice swordsmanship with Rogas, and if he's honest, he'll admit that you're much better than him. But you're still young, William. You will learn later, about yourself, what is important and what is not. The good, and the bad. Sometimes what you want isn't what's best for you."
William nodded. Looks like this time he can accept Bortez's words.
But Bortez remains unconvinced. It seemed that there was still something the young man was curious about.
"Actually, there is one important thing, Uncle, which prompted my intention to master the sword as soon as possible."
Bortez looked at him warily. "What's that?"
"I want to find my father," Willam replied, without the slightest hesitation in his voice or the look in his eyes. "I need to know why he left me and my mother. Or if he's dead, I have to know why he died. And if someone killed him, I have to kill that person back."
"Hey, hey, hey!" Bortez glared again. "What kind of talk is that? Who poisoned your thoughts about killing? Rogas?"
"I spoke to Rogas about a few things. Also with other people." William shrugged. "I'll figure out the rest on my own."
"Don't listen to Rogas anymore! That worm, he doesn't know what he's talking about!"
"But your job is making swords. You should be familiar with this killing affair, right?"
"It's just a job! Not that I like it when my family or close people deal with such things!"
William shook his head. "Uncle, since childhood I always wondered who my father was and where he was now, but no one ever wanted to answer. Not my mother, not even you. I always keep quiet when my friends gossip about my mom and dad. How dare they! If it weren't for Mother's advice against fighting, I would have beaten them all. Now I'm not a kid anymore. But still, no one wants to tell me. Would it be wrong if I ended up going to find out for myself?"
"William, your mother forbade you to fight because she knew your strength could harm your friends! Besides … I think she has her reasons for not wanting to tell her about your past."
"That reason, you don't know, Uncle?" William probed.
"I do not know! How many times have I told you? You and your mother came here when you were two years old. Your mother didn't say where you were from. She never spoke."
"People say I come from the north, from a faraway land called Hualeg. How did they know?"
"They're just guessing. You know, because of your blue eyes and your big body."
"According to you, is that true?"
"I do not know ..."
William turned gloomy. "I've also heard that the Hualeg people are cruel, savage, and like to kill. Do you think my father is like that?"
Bortez shook his head, unsure. "They're not as bad as people say. Hundreds of years ago it was the Hualeg people who came to build villages here. That's why this area is called Ortleg, Hualeg language which means 'red land'. Some of the people in this area are descendants of Hualeg, mixed with the Alton people. I mean, mocking the Hualeg people is the same as mocking themselves. But … William, do you really want to get to know your father?"
"All children want to know who the father is. If you were me, you would also want to know."
"Yeah, that's right." Bortez was pensive. "Then maybe you should ask your mother. But nicely!"
"What if she still refuses to answer?"
"Yes, what if she refuses?" Bortez asked back, defiantly.
"I do not know. I guess … I will obey," William answered doubtfully. "I'll wait for her to explain."
"Good. You're a good boy, William." Bortez patted his shoulder. "Believe me, your mother knows what's best for you. She'll tell you later when she sees you're ready for it."