The Copper Sign (67 page)

When Ellen arrived in Conrad’s yard, a boy came running up at once and greeted her politely.

“I would like to see the guild master!” Ellen said, without dismounting.

“Of course. I will go and get him,” the boy stammered and raced off.

A smile passed over Ellen’s face. Her elegant clothing had clearly impressed the little fellow. Perhaps Isaac was even right, and the boy thought she was a noble lady!
Thank you, Rose
, she thought,
it was right to dress like this
.

Then Conrad came out of the smithy. He was no taller than Ellen, wore a leather cap on his almost bald head, and had rolled up his shirtsleeves almost as far as his powerful upper arms. Ellen slid gracefully to the ground just as Jean had taught her and stood there solidly on both feet.

“Ellenweore!” Conrad said, with a surprisingly warm smile.

“Conrad!” Ellen nodded respectfully.
I feel like a fool with this silly formality
, she thought for a moment.

“People everywhere are talking about you and your swords nowadays.” Conrad gestured cordially for her to enter the house. “Look, Edda, who has come for a visit,” he called out to his wife. “This is Ellenweore…”

“The swordsmith?” Edda broke out in a wide smile, wiped the flour off her hands onto her apron, and reached out to greet Ellen. “I’m really happy you have come to visit us!”

Ellen could not get over her astonishment. First there was Conrad’s friendly greeting, then Edda’s wide smile. Perhaps she had better watch out!

“Well, what brings you to me?” Conrad offered Ellen a seat at the table, and Edda served her a goblet of honey wine.

“Do you remember Jean?” Ellen asked, taking a sip in order to soothe her sore throat a bit.

“Of course,” Conrad replied, interested in what she would have to say.

“He forged a sword. It was just him and a young, inexperienced striker.” Ellen had been holding the sword inconspicuously close to her in her left hand, but now she took it in both hands, unwrapped it, and laid it on the table.

Conrad picked up the weapon carefully and inspected it more closely. “I am not a swordsmith,” he said almost reticently.

“You are the guild master. I am sure you can judge whether it is the work of a professional smith, allowing him to be called a journeyman.”

Conrad clearly felt flattered, for he smiled briefly. He examined the weapon again, visibly impressed.

“No inclusions, well polished—it seems to be a good weapon,” he said without looking up.

“Then you have no objection if from now on Jean calls himself a journeyman?” Ellen asked again, just to be certain. She didn’t want to be in conflict with the guild forever.

Instead of answering, Conrad replied, “Did you teach him how to do that?”

Ellen bristled instinctively. “Yes, indeed I did!” she said with a note of defiance. She was ready to get into a battle of words with him. He had no right to deny Jean the title of journeyman just because he had learned his trade from a woman!

“We made a mistake in rejecting you as a master. Ever since you took over Isaac’s workshop you have brought honor and fame to the smiths of St. Edmundsbury, and I will propose in the next guild meeting that you be recognized as a master. This way Jean’s title as journeyman would be assured, too.”

Ellen was too surprised to know what to say. Conrad had been her fiercest opponent, and now was he going to support her? Evidently he interpreted her surprised silence correctly, for he cleared his throat nervously.

“Let’s just assume the guild will accept my proposal to recognize you as a master.” Conrad took a deep breath as if he were struggling to find the right words, and Ellen was getting prepared for the worst. “Then you could take on regular apprentices,” he continued after a short pause, scratching the back of his head.

“That’s true,” Ellen answered, still waiting for what might come. She felt certain that the guild master had something up his sleeve.

Conrad seemed to be summoning up all his courage.

“As you surely know, a father is not always the best teacher,” he stammered, blushing.

“Oh, rubbish,” Edda interrupted impatiently. “Our son has taken it into his head to become a swordsmith. He doesn’t talk of anything else! And of course we thought of you.” She gave her husband a reproachful look. “Just come out with what you want to say!”

“But that’s just exactly what I was getting around to, woman!” he snapped at her crossly, turning back to Ellen uneasily. “Would you take him as an apprentice if the guild agrees?” he asked stiffly.

Ellen could guess how much effort it had taken for him to come out with his question. “As soon as I have my confirmation as a master, I’ll have a talk with the boy. If he’s eager and hardworking…”

Conrad gasped for air like a beached whale. Naturally, he had expected her to accept his proposal at once.

But Ellen didn’t want to lose face any more than he did. Only her swords were for sale, not she herself.

“Bring the boy to me when the guild has decided,” she repeated amiably. Ellen was certain that Conrad had enough influence with the other smiths to get what he wanted.

“The meeting is in a week,” he said, visibly relieved.

“Fine, I’ll look forward to seeing you then,” she said, getting up and shaking hands.

In the yard she saw the same boy who had greeted her when she arrived running into the smithy. “Is that the lad?” she asked.

“Yes, that’s Brad. He’s almost eleven,” Conrad said proudly.

“A strong, friendly-looking fellow!” Ellen said.

Conrad stretched a little. “He’s my youngest. The others are grown up and have left the house, except for the eldest who works with me in the smithy and will someday take it over.”

“You are a lucky man, Conrad,” Ellen said cheerfully as she left.

About a week later, as the March sun struggled to penetrate the thick clouds, Conrad suddenly appeared at the workshop with his son.

“You are a journeyman now, Jean!” Conrad congratulated him and shook his hand. “You made a really fine sword!” Then he turned to Ellen. “Master!” He grinned stiffly. “I bring you my son with the request that you try him and take him on as your apprentice.” Conrad played his part properly and bowed slightly.

“You may come back to pick him up this evening, and we shall see!” Ellen said with a friendly smile.

Conrad looked at his son sternly. “This is what you wanted, Brad—now show what you can do!”

Brad nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, Father!”

The boy had gathered some basic knowledge about iron working from his father, and he was both eager and clever. After training Jean and Peter, Ellen was genuinely happy to have Brad to teach. She agreed with Conrad on an apprenticeship of seven years. Most other smiths were in training for just five years, farriers for four, and at first Conrad was unhappy that his son would have to be apprenticed for so long. But Brad pleaded, and Ellen came to an agreement with his father on the apprentice’s due. It was good for her reputation among the smiths, after all, if the guild master apprenticed his own son to her.

When Conrad had left, Ellen went into the house to eat and sat down quietly at the table. How proud Osmond would have been of her had he been able to see how far she had come! For a moment a smile passed over her lips. Perhaps even Aedith would one day hear how famous her sister was, or Kenny would be able to impress his customers by letting them know he was her brother. Ellen also thought about Mildred and Leofric and felt a bit sad because she missed them.
Perhaps even Mother would have been proud of me
, she thought, when Isaac interrupted her thoughts.

“If we take on more apprentices, we’ll soon have to enlarge the smithy.” He handed her a piece of bread and smiled.

“Sometimes space is too tight already at the two forges,” Jean added as he chewed his food, “and three anvils are also not enough!”

“I have already thought about that,” Ellen agreed, and she was about to say something when Rose interrupted.

“First of all, I need some help now!” She set little Jeanne down on the ground. “Here, sweetheart.” Rose handed her a rag doll, and the child shouted with glee. Looking at Ellen, Isaac, and Jean one by one, Rose added, “Eve and I can’t do it ourselves any more. We have six children to take care of and then everyone at the smithy here for lunch, and in addition cleaning and washing, as well as taking care of the animals and the vegetable garden. We each have only two hands.” Rose’s voice kept getting louder, and it was clear how upset she was. Her anger must have been building up for a long time.

Ellen looked at her in dismay. Rose had never complained before! Recently she had been a bit irritated at times, but no one had really taken it seriously. Neither Ellen nor any of the others had given much consideration to the fact that the two women had more and more work to do.

“And on top of all that, Eve is getting married soon!”

Rose was interrupted by an outburst of applause and happy hand shaking, and she waited patiently until the general merriment had subsided.

Everyone fell silent when Ellen asked anxiously if Eve would quit after the wedding. Eve said no, she wouldn’t, and Ellen gave Rose a quizzical look as if to say,
See, nothing will change!

Rose’s eyes flashed with anger.

“Then in at least a year we’ll have one more child here. Do you think Eve and her new husband will do nothing but hold hands forever? I need more money for a second maid, and especially for groceries. Smiths eat like nine-headed caterpillars! Flour, grain, and especially bacon vanish in no time, and sometimes I don’t have anything to put into the soup. Nobody’s hunger is satisfied with just onions and cabbage all the time!” Rose’s voice was rising again.

“Good heavens, Rose!” Ellen looked at her, conscience stricken. “You are right, of course. We earn enough! Why didn’t I think of that myself?”

“I have always somehow managed, but now it’s just too much,” Rose said almost apologetically.

Ellen opened her purse and placed a good number of coins on the table.

“You should have told me sooner!” she scolded. “If you need more, come to me, do you understand?”

“That will do for now. I’ll pay close attention, but…”

“That’s enough, Rose! You don’t have to justify yourself. I know you are excellent at keeping house. Will you take care of getting a maid? After all, you will have to get along with her.”

Rose cleared her throat and nodded contentedly. “There was a girl from town here yesterday inquiring about work. She looks like she could help out. I’ll send Marie to her tomorrow.” Rose was satisfied.

“I hope we’ll soon have cake here again then, what do you think?” Ellen asked, looking around.

“Hooray!” the children cheered, and Rose broke out in a wide smile.

“When did you want Peter to finish his journeyman’s piece?” Isaac inquired, holding his wooden plate out to Rose for a second portion.

“Before the winter. It would be a sword for the younger son of the Earl of Clare. I thought that would be his best opportunity.”

“But if it doesn’t have the copper ‘E’ he won’t want it,” Jean replied.

“I have already spoken with him about it. The young man cannot afford one of my swords, so that’s why Peter will be making it. Under my supervision, of course. I assured the de Clare boy that all our work is first-rate. The sword will have an ‘E’ inlaid in brass, just like all the swords made in our smithy from now on. Only the swords that I make personally will have the copper sign from now on. And we’ll charge dearly for that.”

“Not a bad idea!” Jean agreed. “Then from now on my own swords will also have a brass ‘E.’”

“Of course!” Ellen took a heaping spoonful of porridge. “You’re right, Rose, it tastes pretty good, but a bit more bacon wouldn’t hurt.”

The winter that year was especially mild. It hadn’t snowed once, and little rain had fallen. Ellen took a deep breath of the fresh morning air. For more than a year and a half she had made nothing but swords! Her reputation had brought her many customers and an excellent income.

Isaac had also earned himself a good reputation. A growing number of noblemen came to him to have their weapons, new ones or family heirlooms, polished. He was so busy that he had recently taken on a boy from St. Edmundsbury, whom he was training as a sword polisher.

Every day they received more orders, and Ellen thanked the Lord regularly in prayer and through the alms she gave to the poor.

“We need a larger smithy…and a house as well. I think it’s time to enlarge them both. I’ve made inquiries and the abbot recommended a builder to me,” she said one day to Isaac.

“The abbot?”

“Didn’t you know he recently gave us an order for more swords?”

Isaac sighed, then grinned. “The most exalted people in the country want us to work for them. It’s hard to keep track.” He pretended to shrug in despair but then broke out in a wide smile. “I would never have thought a smith could get so far in the world.” Contentedly he wiped his forehead with his sleeve.

“I’d like to have a real stone house,” Ellen told him, dreaming. Isaac swallowed hard. He had built the little half-timbered house as a boy along with his father.

“Jean and Rose and their children could have the house. The rooms we built for them are much too small, anyway. And then we would have the new stone house to ourselves,” she said, dismissing his objection even before he could get a word in. She stroked his cheek fondly and kissed him on the forehead. “I know you love the house, but we’ll soon have another child to care for under the same roof…” She sighed.

Isaac looked at her, wondering. “Rose?”

Ellen shook her head.

“You don’t mean Eve, do you?” Isaac asked, peeved. Was Eve pregnant, just as Rose had predicted, right after the wedding? Did Ellen want to take her and her family in as well?