Chapter 6: Revelations

It was spring, it was a rest day, and there had been plenty of excitement. The villagers were in a partying mood. David's girlfriends had all forgiven him and he now held court amidst a swarm of young femininity at one end of the long table. The village men and boys sat or stood around in small groups swapping stories, paying off bets and reliving the afternoon's excitement. The village women and those girls not hanging on David sat in their own group gossiping and laughing. When Clark saw Emil and Diana coming toward the table he stood and walked to greet them.

"Hunter, you did a good thing here today. If you'd walk with me a way, there's something I'd like to show you."

"You men go on," smiled Diana as she released Emil's hand. "I want to talk with the women."

"Talk? About what?" queried Emil who had been thinking that he was finally making progress with Diana.

"None of your business," retorted Diana as she flitted off to join the women.

Clark laughed at Emil's confusion. "She's a woman. You'll soon learn that they'd all rather gossip than breathe."

Clark guided Emil to the other end of the village where a forge stood.

"Among other things, I'm the village smith," said Clark as he swung open the double doors to the shed adjacent to the forge. "My job may be repairing plows and making things like nails and hinges, but blades are my passion. David works here with me when he can, and between the two of us we've made quite a few good swords."

"I noticed the sword you wore when you came to investigate the noise we were making this morning," Emil joked.

"Yes, that's a good sword, just suited to my size and strength, but I want to show you something better. Do you know anything about swords?"

"My father taught me," answered Emil. "When he was alive we used to practice together, but we never had much more than blunt blades. I work with one of the old blades now just to keep my sword arm in shape."

Clark nodded and went to the back of the shed, where a rack of swords of all sizes and designs stood. He paused for a moment, scanning the row of blades, and then picked the sword he had in mind.

"Here's the one. David and I have a stash of old books on sword making, and we've studied them all to decide on the best sword for today. We looked at Roman swords, Viking swords, Celtic swords, all sorts of Asian swords, and more. We even studied the Napoleonic Hussars' sabers, U.S. cavalry swords and the more modern stuff: rapiers, fencing sabers and the like. This is the design we decided on. It's closest to the old Viking and Celtic swords. Those blades were utilitarian, well balanced, easy to carry and very effective. The big improvement we made is in the material and in the balance."

Clark handed the sword to Emil and Emil hefted it. "It feels very light."

"That's because of the balance," Clark glowed. "It's actually almost three pounds, but we've gotten the balance point back to less than three inches from the guard. The old swords balanced more like four or five inches from the guard."

"Is it strong?"

"Better than the old ones. We've found out a way to replicate what they used to call Damascus steel. See the beautiful pattern in the blade? It's as tough and strong as you're going to find today."

Emil examined the metal in the blade closely. The light played along the surface in a fascinating pattern. "It is beautiful," he observed.

"The length should be just about right for you. Hold it to your side in your right hand."

Emil held the sword as instructed, and the tip of the blade cleared the ground by an inch or two.

"Perfect!" Clark exclaimed. "This one is too small for David and too big for me, but it fits you fine."

"What would you trade for it?" asked Emil.

"It's yours," Clark answered.

"I can't take such a valuable sword without a trade," Emil protested.

"Look there." Clark pointed to the sword rack. "I have many swords." He paused for a moment and then continued. "I have many swords, but I have only one son. For a long time, I've been worried about David. I'm proud of him, but because of his size and strength, and because no one here can stand up to him, I'm afraid he's become something of a bully. You taught him a valuable lesson today. I saw it in his face as he sat next to you at the table. He admires you and he's learned a little respect."

Then Clark smiled. "Also, I think you could have won your dogs if you'd wanted. Consider this sword a trade for the dogs and for what you've taught my son."

Emil had the grace not to protest, but he recognized the long hours of work that must have gone into designing and making such a beautiful sword. He promised himself that some day soon he would find a way to repay Clark.

As Clark rummaged about in the shed searching for a suitable scabbard, Emil broached another subject. "You're a man of experience. Could you answer a question for me?"