Matthew was woken by a huge banging from outside. For some reason, the smith at the camp had taken on the daily responsibility of rousing the soldiers by making the loudest noises possible. It didn't matter if the whole camp was asleep, he had a schedule to keep to.
Matthew groaned and stared up the ceiling. He had the day off. During the last couple of weeks, he and Peter had achieved the impossible. They hadn't ripped each other's throat, and that was a miracle. He couldn't recount a period that long when they would stand the other, or even have conversations without threats or cursing.
He had to a admit that she often fascinated him. He was curious to discover what was hiding behind her secretive eyes, how she ended up hiding amongst the army's men. She was a puzzle he was desperate to solve. Many times he would stand there studying her, trying to learn more about her, but she was always watchful around him and would shut herself off.
He didn't know why he wanted to get closer to her. For inexplicable reasons, he felt his mind traveling back to her, a frequent mishap that was followed by his swearing at her ability to cause such a brain malfunction. There I go again, he sighed. He had gotten used to it by then.
Sitting aimlessly on his bed wouldn't help much, so he got up and put on some clothes before going outside. He was fortunate enough to not share a room with another soldier, thanks to his prowess in scaring people off. He exited the barracks and went on to have a nice walk around the city.
The weather was unusually good, with the sun shining brightly in the blue skies, and the people flowed out their homes to enjoy the rare phenomenon. Matthew tried to contain his laugh when he saw a fellow soldier being attacked by some feral kids who wanted to climb on his armour. He didn't dare to interfere and quickly changed direction.
He decided to take the main street of the city. He was about to head east, towards the palace, when he saw something familiar from the corner of his eye. He looked closer, and saw it was Peter walking briskly, her mouth set in a hard line. He thought she looked cute when she was thinking.
'Where are you off to?' he asked her.
Peter was taken aback by his sudden appearance, and glanced at him, surprise written on her face. Matthew smiled at her reaction.
'To George. My sword is in terrible shape.'
They had made such a big progress that she didn't glare at him every time he asked her that kind of questions.
'Ah, yes. I'd like to see how that will play out,' he said in a dry tone and followed her.
Strangely enough she didn't object, and the two of them walked to the smith of the city. His leg had completely healed; he didn't limp anymore, but a constant feeling of tiredness he couldn't justify had taken its place. Even then, Matthew managed to keep up with her hurried pace.
The smith's workshop was located in the south part of the city, where other workshops for weapons could be found. Matthew heard the familiar clattering sound of metal and smelled the melted iron that would soon become a sword or a shield.
Peter and Matthew arrived at the blacksmith. The truth was that neither of them liked him. However, his skill in crafting weapons was still unsurpassable. They entered the small yard of the workshop and entered the stone building.
'Hello? George, are you here?' called Peter in the empty room.
'He must have gone outside.'
'We will wait, then.'
Matthew started looking around out of curiosity. The place was a bit dark. It had a desk with stacks of paper on it, a big fireplace with metallic tools that must have been used for heat treatments, water tanks for cooling off the hot metal, shelves and boxes where the weapons were displayed. While he walked around, he accidentally stepped on something on the floor. He looked down and saw a small toy.
'George has kids?' he asked Peter.
'I think he had a kid, but I am not certain.'
'It looks like a girl's toy.'
Matthew put the woolen doll on the desk beside him. He turned around and saw Peter looking intently at a painting of two young men on the wall. He approached her to get a better look.
'Wow! Is that George? With hair?' she mused, raising her brows.
'Hard to believe, huh. And who is this guy?'
'Hmmm...a friend?'
'Odd. I have never seen him around.'
'Me neither.'
Peter neared the weapons and took one in her hands.
'A fine job,' she said. 'These must be the new designs he was bragging about.'
'They could never match up to my new girl. I swear, this sword makes me feel invincible.'
Peter glared at him, making him chuckle. He had missed her feisty side.
'You should take it back, though,' she advised him. 'What if someone notices that it's not from around here?'
'Relax. No one will notice anything.'
She would have shown him how relaxed she was, if they hadn't heard someone entering the room. The blacksmith stood at the entrance, eyeing them suspiciously.
'What do you want?' he sneered.
Matthew heard Peter sigh; he knew she was trying to be patient with him. Having seen this play before, he stepped back to enjoy the show.
'Is this how you treat your costumers?' Peter snapped at the blacksmith.
'Be quick. I don't have time for everyone.'
'I need a new sword.'
'Come back tomorrow. Today is my day-off,' he said and waved her off.
'I have known you for years and you have never taken a day-off.'
'Well, today I am making an exception.'
Right then Peter lost her temper. She grabbed the man by the collar, and whispered threateningly, her face contorted from rage.
'Do not bullshit me. I tried to be nice. Now bring me a new sword.'
Okay, that is enough, Matthew thought. He gently touched her shoulder to gain her attention.
'Peter, calm down.'
She looked at him, her dark eyes boring into his, and took a deep breath in order to compose herself. She reluctantly let go of the man. While she was still trying to calm her nerves, a girl ran into the room and hugged the blacksmith's legs. Matthew was surprised to see a familiar pair of blue eyes and a toothless grin. He had already met that girl.
'Matthew!' the girl beamed at him and ran towards him.
'Hello, Grace! What are you doing here?'
Matthew held her small body in his arms and shared a worried look with Peter. They had lost her once, they wouldn't fail again.
'You know each other?' the man asked.
All the anger Peter felt earlier now had returned with full force. She took his arm, forcefully twisted it behind his back, and restrained him.
'Why is she here? What do want from her?'
'She is my daughter!'
Matthew stared at him wide eyed.
'What did you say?'
'I am her father.'
'Is that true, Grace?' she turned to the girl.
'Yes.'
Peter released him immediately. She couldn't believe what she heard.
'Do you know where we found her?' Matthew yelled at the man. 'In a cell, like a criminal! Where were you during all her suffering?'
'I had been searching everywhere to find her. For years I didn't give up, but in the end I couldn't bare it anymore. I chose to make a new start. How did you find her?'
'She was abducted by thieves. And if this is true, if she is your daughter, they took the child so that they would get back at you. Grace went through hell because of your past. You don't deserve to be her father.'
'Why did they take her? Speak!' Peter ordered loudly.
The blacksmith sighed. He wearily sat on a chair next to his desk and turned to Grace.
'Could you give us a few minutes, dear? Go and play outside.'
'Yes, father.'
The girl happily ran to the door, waved goodbye to Matthew and Peter, and went outside.
'So?' Peter probed after a few seconds of silence.
The man blankly stared at the floor and spoke in a low tone. 'When I was younger, I had a friend. His name was Jacob. Jacob Black. He was a blacksmith like me. We were partners. He wasn't that talented, but he worked hard. The seasons turned and he became a father. For a time he was truly happy. However, after a couple of years he turned into an insatiable man. He started gambling as a means of making his family rich. I warned him that if he continued following that path, he would regret it. He didn't listen.'
'Is that him in the painting?' Matthew asked, pointing at the painting on the wall.
'Yes. That was before he...he lost his family.'
'How did that happen?'
'He owed money to the wrong people. They took all his belongings and burned his house down in retaliation. His family didn't make it out. He was devastated. He turned his back on me, on everyone. He was filled with rage and resentment. He left the city and moved east. I am not sure who took my daughter away from me, but I have a feeling that he's the one behind this. Of course, I can't prove it.'
'We will look into the people who were involved, right Matthew?'
'Yeah,' he replied with a nod.
'Why are you helping me?' he said narrowing his eyes.
He couldn't know what exactly was going on; it was too dangerous for him, so he answered cryptically.
'Let's just say that we care for our fellow citizens, and in repayment you should give him one of your best swords.'
'Alright,' the man said after a moment's reflection. He stood up and gave Peter one of the swords he kept on the shelves. Matthew didn't miss the content smile that crept on her face when she took her new sword.
'Next time I expect to have a better service,' she warned him.
'Time to go,' Matthew said and pushed her lightly.
Before they could make it to the door, they heard the blacksmith's shouting behind them.
'Don't think that I will treat you any differently just because you found my daughter!'
'Ugh! He is incorrigible!' Peter groaned in frustration, and fortunately Matthew managed to hide his smile.
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A/N: As always, thank you for reading my book. I'd love to read your view on the story so far. Until the next chapter!!
Phrase of chapter: κακής ἀπ' ἀρχής γίγνεται τέλος κακόν / a bad beginning makes a bad ending - Euripides