11 Safety Ne (2/2)
Corco nodded and turned fast to leave for a darker corner of the smithy, the one the pious blacksmith had pointed towards. Though he didn't mind the man himself, there might be problems if he stayed and talked some more about religion. Not for a second had Corco believed in the nonsense of the Arcavians and lying about his core beliefs was absolutely not his style. He felt bad about exposing the blacksmith to danger over a lie, but there was little he could do now that the work was done. If worst came to worse, he would just have to take the man in for protection.
As Corco came back with the heavy iron slung over his shoulder, Ronnie and Fadelio, who had been waiting by the door, moved with him, engaged in their own conversation. While the crown prince was embroiled in a war with the heavy armor, an attempt to get it over his head, Fadelio and Ronnie were still discussing the matters of Duke Herak.
”Why are you even coming along with us if you're this scared? Aren't you just here to complain? Not like we need any extra muscle with me around,” Fadelio said.
Meanwhile, the warrior stepped up and did his best to help his master get the chain mail over his head. After a slew of groans and sighs, at last, the armor dropped down with a jangle, laying itself heavily onto the crown prince's shoulders.
”If you must ask, warrior, I still call Etra my home. However, someone forced the great Bombasticus on a pilgrimage around the world, wasting my time for an entire year. Since such a long time has passed, the rats have taken hold of my shop. Even though there is little to be done about all the tinctures and herbs which have been taken-”
”Which were useless in the first place.” After the hard part had been done, Fadelio had put gray robes over Corco's head, which silenced his voice. The armor would be much more efficient if it was hidden. Corco's muffled voice prompted an annoyed look from the great alchemist, who decided to ignore the interjection.
”Though the tinctures were taken, the still was too large, and did not seem important enough to the unlearned.”
”Hiding the thing inside a wooden frame was pretty smart, right?” Corco bragged about his idea as he adjusted his robes.
”Sure, but an attempt at theft was still made and the still has been thrown to the floor. I will have to ask the local smith to repair a few parts before work can continue.”
”How do I look?” As the smithy wouldn't provide them with a mirror, Corco could only rely on the fashion sense of his companions.
”It's...” Fadelio frowned, unsure of how to answer. Being struck by an idea, the warrior unshackled his weapon from his waist and presented the polished axe head as a mirror. Finally, the prince could see his new look. His face had always been a bit round, even though his body was on the slim side. Now, with the added size from the layer of metal, he truly looked...
”You look overweight.” Instead of the warrior servant, the much franker alchemist answered the prince's question.
Corco slapped his robes, in an attempt to measure his new girth. ”Isn't that good? From today on, I'll be a merchant anyways. Pretty sure merchants are supposed to be fat.”
As Corco moved towards the door, the smith on the other side of the room gave them a friendly nod.
”I will be taking care of business and then follow along later,” Ronnie said. He still needed those parts fixed if they wanted to make any more brandy in the future.
”Sure you can't get your parts any other time? We can wait too.” Still worried about one of his own moving by himself, Corco turned to ask his alchemist if he needed assistance.
”No, there is still much work to be done for you as well as me. I would rather do it now, so long as the Duke is still busy with other matters. His plight will not last much longer. Of course, the tensions between Whiteport and Balit have been quite severe, but there will be no war. Sooner or later, King Albius will return to his senses and stop wasting money. And once he is freed from the nuisance, there will be nothing left to stop the duke from wiping us out. By now, Dukle Herak will know just who has been at fault for his recent troubles... after we have killed one of his men, no less.”
While the frightened alchemist was immersed in his monologue, Corco already had his hand on the door, out into the fresh air of spring.
”You're not wrong. The duke will come back with a vengeance. Even if war were to break out, I doubt Whiteport can beat Borna at sea. I've seen the ships of both sides. It won't even be a fight.” Corco thought back to Whiteports massive fleet of rowing boats, and to Borna's sailing ships, to the bronze cannons on board. He'd rather not see Borna become too powerful too quickly. Unfortunately, he couldn't do much to influence the outcome, beyond providing Whiteport with the kind of technology he would never hand over to the Arcavians.
”So then-”
”So we need to be prepared.” Corco interrupted the pessimistic Bombasticus. ”You want your revenge too, don't you? What we need to do now is establish ourselves here in Etra. Once we supply all the lords of the west with wine and sugar, Herak won't be able harm us any more without hurting himself. Only then will get the chance to force more mistakes, and achieve our goals.”
After he had turned to the door again, Corco opened his path into the sunshine outside. Though the illumination of the spring day made even the dirty roads of Etra seem lively and pleasant, the rays failed to brighten Corco's grim face. Not long now, just another year at most. Only then, finally, they could meet their foe as equals.