That afternoon Bortez left for Prutton, a small southern town on the other side of the Ordelahr River. The stocky man used an old borrowed cart pulled by a borrowed horse. He was carrying a box of metal utensils ordered by a merchant at Prutton. William had been to Prutton once, and it wasn't that far. Shortly after sunset Bortez should be there.
Bortez had time to explain his plans before leaving. After his business in Prutton was over, he would continue his journey to Milliton to meet the Alton Kingdom's army commander. The kingdom needed a large number of weapons, and it was clear that Bortez didn't want to miss out on getting orders.
William once asked why Bortez didn't just stay at Milliton, so he could be closer to buyers and be more competitive with other blacksmiths. Bortez refused. He said that the closer to the big city, the higher the taxes the kingdom took. After all, if his work is good, the customers will still look for him even if he lives in the north.
Whatever the reason, there's one thing Bortez said that might come true. One day Alton will go to war against Tavarin. The two kingdoms never got along. Although they are still officially at peace, minor incidents occasionally occur at the border. It's just a matter of time before that small incident becomes a big one. That was the reason why the demand for making weapons continued to increase.
Or, could it be that Alton is preparing to face the attacks of the Elniri people who are now ruling in the east? Elniri had already conquered the land of the Terran Kingdom and reportedly their army was much bigger and more dangerous than Tavarin.
William didn't know much about war, nor was he interested, except that it could earn his master more money. But of course if one day the kingdom forced all the males who were old enough to go to war, William would oblige and perhaps force himself to love war. But not now. When he had the opportunity to practice with his master's handcrafted swords in the workshop, he did so more out of sheer pleasure. Or as preparation before he searches for his father's killer if it is true that he is dead.
So, if all this can be considered his life goal, that goal is in the north, not in the south. That's why William showed no interest when Bortez was about to take him to Milliton. The young man was convinced that it was better for him to stay in his village. For him, this is a golden opportunity. Rogas was still around Ortleg, and without Bortez, William would be able to find Rogas and practice swordsmanship with him tomorrow more freely without fear of being scolded by his master.
William closed the workshop door, whistling cheerfully. As he was tucking the bars into the door, someone punched him in the shoulder from behind. William turned with a grin.
A girl with curly brown hair stood in front of him with her hands on her hips. The girl's eyes were fierce, her clothes were dirty, and her cheeks were streaked with mud. William had no idea what she had just done. Even so, for him, the girl's disheveled appearance still failed to cover her cute face. If only her behavior could also be sweeter like an ordinary girl.
"What?" William answered in a high-pitched voice, feigning fierceness.
"Is Father gone?" the girl asked.
"Only just."
"Have you told him?"
"Told him what?"
Muriel, Bortez's only daughter, looked even more irritated. "Told him that I want to learn to work on swords, armor, or other more difficult things!"
William sneered. "Smartass. Why do the hard work? The easier it is, the better."
"But have you told him?"
"Your father already understands."
Muriel shook his head dissatisfied. "Brother, Father won't understand if you don't say it clearly!"
"Your father knows best," William said knowingly, quoting his teacher this afternoon. That advice turned out to be useful too. "He'll tell you later when he sees you're ready to accept everything."
"That means you haven't told him yet!"
"No need to shout."
Muriel was getting sullen. "I just want you to tell him! It's not that hard!"
"If it's not that hard, why don't you tell him yourself?" William laughed at her, then smiled, so that Muriel wouldn't heat up.
"He doesn't want to hear me talking."
"Calm down." William took the tray and cups from the table and handed them to Muriel. "As soon as your father comes back, he will talk to you. Maybe he'll even tell you something important."
"What's important?" Muriel looked suspiciously at him. Seeing William laughing again, the girl became even more curious. "Something like what?"
"Here." William brought his cheek closer to Muriel. "Kiss here first. I'll tell you later."
"Huh," Muriel growled in annoyance. If her hands weren't carrying the tray, she might have punched William in the jaw.
But still, she's dangerous. The girl kicked William's shin.
The young man winced, this time in real pain. Meanwhile, Muriel turned around, walking away quickly.
Rubbing his shins William exclaimed, "Hey, don't forget to take a shower. I know what you were doing. You helped fix Master Benzo's wagon wheel, right? Take a shower first, before dinner! So you can be cute again."
Muriel turned his head, sticking out his tongue.
William laughed.
The young man took a broom and cleaned the workshop terrace from the leaves. His attention then diverted, as soon as a male figure appeared and approached him from the corner of the street.
The man was tall, a little taller than William. His gaze was sharp and his eyebrows thick. His hair, mustache, and beard are dark. His black robe covered almost his entire body, reaching down to his knees. William recognized him. It was Mornitz, who had come two weeks ago to order the sword.
Bortez is wrong. That man came earlier than expected.
"Good evening, sir," William greeted as friendly as possible. He was about to ask why Mornitz had come so quickly but stopped when he saw the sour expression on the man's face. "Is there anything I can help you with?"
"Don't you remember me?" replied Mornitz curtly.
William gulped, slightly annoyed. "I remember, sir."
"Where's Bortez?"
"My master is going to Prutton."
"My sword is finished?"
"Yeah, it's done."
"Then what are you waiting for?"
William smirked. Seeing Mornitz's obnoxious attitude made him want to prank that guy. "I'm waiting for your money, sir. May I see that before you see your sword?"
Mornitz glared.
William hastily calmed him down. "I'm just conveying my master's message. Money first, goods later."
Mornitz snorted as he pulled a leather pouch out of his robes. The tinkling of coins sounded from inside the pouch as he held them up at William.
"Fifty sazets. Your master told you about the price, right?"
"I'll check it first, sir."
William casually accepted the leather pouch, then sat down in front of the workshop and spilled the contents of the pouch onto the table. With his index finger, he shifted the pieces one by one. "One, two, three ..."
The whole piece. Until long enough.
Then he looked up with a grin, didn't care how much the black-robed man grew impatient. "Right, it's fifty sazets. Paid off. Thank you, sir. I'll get your sword."