The King of Winters

Chapter-86

One of the smiths knelt to inspect the object: three immense steel rods, with the spearhead made of black iron so dark it drank the light. "A mighty bolt."

"Mighty, but broken," Andrew replied. "And one bolt like this would not serve it's purpose. I want a good deal of such bolts. Do you have a name?"

"They call me Mikal, your grace," he said. "I came with Lord Royce." The smith was squat and broad, plainly dressed in wool and leather, but his arms were as thick as a bull's neck.

"I would like it if you could get this done as soon as possible," Andrew said.

A gentle murmur filled the armoury as they looked at the large scorpion bolt. Finally Mikken spoke up. "We could do it, your grace," he said.

Colren nodded beside him. "We will do it, your grace." He turned back to face the armours and the apprentices behind him. "We will have Riverrun's forge turned to making these bolts and sharpening them. All other work is to be put aside. You will hear hammers ringing, night and day. And you have all the men right here, to see that all this is done. Isn't that right men?"

"Aye," A dozen voices shouted at once.

"It would take some time though, your grace," Mikal said. "But what of the mail and swords and the other weapons of war?"

"That work can wait," Andrew said. "We would have to get it done first." The men did not lack for swords or axes or daggers, but they lacked for the scorpion bolts strong enough to bring the dragons down.

"My lord, begging your pardon, but we would need a lot of iron to make this possible," another smith said. "Iron and steel and other resources. We would need a lot of them."

"Aye, sire. Iron is grown dear," Colren declared, "and these bolts will be needing much of it, and coke beside, for the fires."

Andrew had not forgotten that. He had known a little about forge from his time in Braavos. He had helped an armourer to design the hidden blades himself. "You will have all that you need to make it happen. You have my word on it. I will have my men see to that you have all that as you need it," Andrew promised. He had to count on the coffers of Winterfell for that much, he hoped. "My men will help you find iron and the coal for the fires. We will have the ships bring in more supplies from Winterfell if it requires."

"In that case, my lord, we would be happy to get these bolts you've asked for," another smith said and clapped his friend on the shoulder and smiled. "So what are we waiting for? Let's help the Dragonslayer to slay more dragons."

A loud roar of smiths filled the armoury of Riverrun which made his smile. As the men get back to work, Andrew went around the forge to assist Mikken with the bellows. He was not good with the hammer of an armourer in hand as he was with sword in hand, but he knew how to work at the bellows.

"Get the fires up," Mikken said to the boy who added some chunks of coal to the furnace. He could instantly feel the heat rise up within the forge.

When the time came for him to blow some air into the fire, Andrew did it flawlessly that even Mikken was surprised. "I never knew you were so talented at this, your grace."

Andrew smiled at him. "I have some secrets as well." Secrets that he was not like to forget anytime soon.

Mikken chuckled lightly for a moment and took a step backward from the anvil and raised his hammer. "Your grace," he said, in a quiet tone. "I believe there is someone here for you."

When he turned, Andrew saw the steward of Riverrun, Utherydes Wayn walking hastily towards the armoury, with half a dozen guardsmen around him. He wondered why the steward would be so quick as to come for him now. He had never had any news of Aegon Targaryen moving away from Stoney Sept. Could the Prince have crept close under the cover of darkness. . . He did not know what he could do if a dragon descended on them so soon.