Tranquil Fury (17 page)

Lauren stood up, overwhelmed, “Purity, heritage, pleasure, strength, pain, evil, and humility. It almost sounds like your father was trying to teach a child lessons. Is that common with forging weapons, or is it ceremony?”

“Ceremony not, Earth Daughter. Such words, never before said. A sword we thought when we began, now none be sure, and correct you may be. Of this, long have I thought, what we did, what Pappy said. Never able to sum it so truthfully, was I.”

Lauren was stunned, never having heard a story like this. She followed Aaro in silence, completely dumbfounded, as he led the way down to the main level through the maze of tunnels and stairs. He stopped in front of a blank wall, placed his hand on a non-descript spot, and the wall opened. Inside was a small room that could accommodate no more than forty people, with a huge fireplace, truly too big for the room against the far wall. Lauren stopped to look at the sword above the mantel, which was magnificent, but as she went to approach it, Aaro stopped her.

Lauren looked back to Aaro, “That sword is six feet long. How is a dwarf going to use it?”

“A grand weapon, dwarf built, but for dwarf too large. That which you see, pride and curse of Ironhouse it does be. This be why eastern clans leave they do,” he replied.

Lauren turned to look at the sword, and in the cold room, she saw what look like steam rising from it, “How long ago was it made?”

“Fifteen years gone.”

“But steam still rises from it. Is it not hot?”

“Touch it. Cold, find it you will.”

 “Then why does it look like it is still cooling down?”

 “Anger we think.” Aaro’s response was genuinely serious, “Upset with us, still it is.”

Lauren was confused, “What do you mean?”

“For this, prepare you want I did. Plans to ask you, name the sword he does. This burden on you, wish it I would not. More stubborn than metal he works Pappy is. In heat metal is born, shaped in cold. Welcomes forge it does, born there is design. Mere metal this is not, tortured it was. Six times forge taken, seven with mountain, never done before, has this been. Taught pain by dry quench, metal screams, still haunt my dreams. Punished mountain high, taste of evil taught that night. Then once done, here we lock it, forgotten it remains. Fifteen years gone, wrapped in dark. Why, none know. Many times, checked on it I have. Each time, as you see it, greeted me it did. Steaming mad.”

Lauren looked at him, “I don’t think I understand.”

 “Imagine should child you have. Raise, feed, nurture, and teach it you do. When greeted by the world it should be, instead locked away it is. Years fifteen later, to it you go. Fifteen years, destiny denied, once again, acknowledge it you do. Fifteen years ignored, shed light on it. Metal we melted, beat, tortured. The finest weapon crafted we did make. Then our backs we did turn. Made to kill, not kill time. Earth Daughter, years of fifty, with my Pappy weapons have I built. Scares me, this one does. Urge you I do, council seek Earth Mother, and explain all I have. Except if you should, know this. Ceremonies are two, naming ceremony first it be. Pappy or brothers, the sword present to you we will. Witnessed one, I have not. Heard I have, long they can last, or short they be. Ironhouse, never a named weapon known we have. Name origins, I know not either. Earth Mother, here guide you she can. Once named, in days of seven, ceremony second take place it will. Master Weapon Smith, weapon champion reveal he shall. Earth Daughter, spoken much I have, concerns made, I do apologize for. Council seek Earth Mother, for guide you she will. Fear not, if naming brings no desire, then name it not, as no shame will befall you. To your room, take you now I will.”

Chapter 13

Lauren went back to her room, and thought about everything that Aaro had told her, the image of the smoldering sword etched into her memory. She sat on the edge of the bed for about an hour, just watching the storm vent its frustration—which paled in comparison to her own.
Earth Daughter? Naming weapons? What’s next?
She decided to heed Aaro’s advice, and went off in search of the Earth Mother, finding her in her personal quarters. “Aaro suggested I seek your council. Do you have a few free minutes?”

The Earth Mother looked at her, “Earth Daughter, for thou I shalt always make time. How canst I help thou?”

“Aaro told me, that tonight after dinner the Master Weapon Smith is going to ask a favor of me. He is going to ask me to name a sword, a great sword.”

The Earth Mother was aware of no such weapon, especially one that required a naming ceremony. She had seen a few of these named weapons over the years, but really did not understand them, or the significance, as it was more of a dwarf ritual than an elf ceremony.

“Aaro told me about the sword. It was an amazing tale, but I am uncertain what to make of it. He told me of the great honor that it is to name such a weapon, but there is much he said that. Well, it scares me. I don’t know what I should do.”

She looked at Lauren, “He does be a good man, years I hath known Aaro. From his heart he does speak, but trust him thou canst. I does imagine that thou does expect me to say, Aaro does be right to send thou to me for council, but council I canst naught give thou. Young in the order thou does be. Naught once before hath one so young, such a great honor received. But this shocks me naught longer, as much as it does distress thou. If I tell thou too little, wrongly thou may act. If I tell thou too much, the same result may happen. But in truth, it does hath no purpose. It does be but a naming ceremony, naught more, naught less. And in truth, dwarf does believe that it does bestow power or courage to that which does be forge born, but it does naught. It does be like a child to dwarf, they does hope name does make it great, but forge decided that does be. It does naught be any different, then when mother does name child. Does naught fret over it Earth Daughter, purpose it does lack. Does name shiny sword, as Master Weapon Smith, it shalt make him smile. Now go, fret naught.”

When Lauren had left, the elfin Earth Mother thought about going to talk to Aaro about the sword, seeing it, then pushed the thought away, knowing if a little sword worried Mother, she would have said something.
Dwarf, each year they does be shorter, each year their stories does grow taller. So small, stories so big, I does naught understand them.
She just shook her head, poured a fresh cup of tea, and looked out the window at the odd intense storm.

Lauren spent the day alone, as a million thoughts raced through her mind, none of them with a happy conclusion. She formed an image in her mind, and on one side was the sword in the dark room, steam rising from it. On the other side, the Earth Mother sitting there calm, telling her that it did not mean anything. She wasn’t sure if she should go back, take Aaro, and have him tell the story, or maybe have Aaro show her the sword. The contrast between the two images was disturbing to her, and add in the words of Aaro, ‘
Scares me, this one does.
’ He was so persistent that she should seek out the Earth Mother, as if she could provide information that was crucial to the event. But the two conflicting stories, they just did not make sense. It was like the time the teacher handed out the incorrect textbooks, something was wrong, but she was uncertain if she had the wrong book, or was in the wrong class. Then, before Lauren realized it, she heard the call for the evening meal, and slowly she went down the stairs and joined the others.

And just as Aaro had predicted, after the meal, the Master Weapon Smith stood and approached her. “Earth Daughter, favor I would ask of you. History tells of weapons great, dwarf forge born. Named be best, tradition it be. Crafted such Ironhouse did, named to this day not. Forge shaped they be, but destiny be name born. To the world, name that which Ironhouse did make. Earth Daughter, please honor metal forged with name great.”

Lauren smiled, “Let us see the weapon first,” she replied. The Master Weapon Smith nodded, and headed out into the hall, as everybody followed him, Gor and Gingaar leaving last, bringing with them various wines and ales.

Only the Ironhouse dwarves knew of the weapon, and the secret room that housed it, and as the door opened, everybody stood in awe of the magnificent sword. The size alone immediately drew one’s eyes to it, even from twenty feet away, the huge deeply carved runes, now reflecting the light from the freshly lit lamps. Aaro and Lauren both noticed the change in its mood, for no steam was rising from it. Everybody took a chair, blowing off the thick dust, and sat down.

The Earth Mother and Gingaar were the last to arrive, but when the Earth Mother looked at the mantle she did not see a little sword, she saw history. The dwarf runes, given by Father, erased from history by Mother so long ago, stared at her, mocked her. She was expecting a sword, two, maybe three feet long. What she looked at was not a dwarven sword; it was a harbinger of death.
Why does they build this?
Her mind raced, wondered how she could interrupt the ceremony, stop the Earth Daughter, but as she stood, no sounds could she make, her voice silenced by Mother.

The Master Weapon Smith turned to Aaro, “Present the sword of Ironhouse to Earth Daughter.” Aaro went up to the mantle, picked up the rack while Bor quickly pushed a small table into the middle of the room. Aaro walked around Lauren so that his back was to the crowd, the look on his face, asking if she knew what she was about to do?

Lauren did not want to name the sword, but something inside of her, told her she had to hold it. She picked it up, and it was lighter than expected, the balance incredible. Even though she knew nothing of weapons, or how to make them, she realized it was an extraordinary feat. She ran her hand down one side, examining each deep rune in detail, and turned it over to examine the opposite side. For Lauren time seemed to stop. Those that looked upon her were surprised at how she was acting, caressing each side of the sword, looking at her reflection in the deep polished runes, tracing her fingers over each one. Lauren examined every inch of the sword, becoming visually intoxicated on the fine craftsmanship, and without realizing it, she had been studying it for over an hour. The crowd with her friends, elves, and dwarves watched in amazement, while the Master Weapon Smith just smiled, and the Earth Mother, struggled to get her voice back. Lauren ran her hand along the edge, and as she did, Aaro sucked in his breath, “Do not worry, it will not harm me. It knows that I am Earth Daughter.” True to her word, the edge that nearly ate Aaro’s hand, the edge that could cut time itself, did not slice her hand, even when she ran it over the razor sharp edge itself. Lauren did not expect what happened next. She began to understand the deceitful power inside the sword, “Master Weapon Smith, name who has been selected to champion this weapon.”

The Master Weapon Smith replied, “Ceremony different that be Earth Daughter. Name the sword only this night we will.”

“Master Smith, whom have you selected,” asked Lauren?

 “That time, now it not,” he replied.

The Earth Mother could sense something was wrong, wanted to say something, but could not.

Lauren spoke again, more forcefully, “Smith! Name the champion. He who will make rivers of blood flow. He who will fill the night with screams of terror. He who no army can destroy. He who has a blood lust that cannot be fulfilled.”

Everybody in the room was shocked, except the Master Weapon Smith, who did not understand what was happening, “Please Earth Daughter, name only this night.”

Lauren had never held a star in her hand, that was about to go supernova, and it scared her. She knew she needed a name, knew the Master Smith was the only one who could provide it, “SMITH, IT AWAKENS, SENSES YOUR PRESENCE AND IT IS NOT PLEASED.” At this point, everybody in the room started to push their chairs back, as they were uncertain what would happen next, and were doubtful that they wanted to witness it. Lauren bellowed, “WALWRD IRONHOUSE, THE NAME NOW!”

 The Earth Mother felt it, an Earth Bond.

It had been so long since the Master Weapon Smith had heard his birth name, that it snapped him out of his trance, “Why Eric, of size required only he be.”

She grabbed Eric, thrust the sword hilt into his hand, said “Tranquil Fury this is Eric, SERVE HIM WELL.”

Lauren turned to the Master Weapon Smith, “WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE!” Then collapsed to the ground, which was followed by a scream from Eric, before he also fell to the ground unconscious.

The Earth Mother was beyond shock, the giant sword, the runes, Lauren’s words and more.
Mother, what does be happening?
And when Lauren said, ‘SERVE HIM WELL,’ she felt a second Earth Bond, from the Earth Daughter who did not know how to even issue the first.
Over two-hundred years of service Mother, naught once hath thou ever given me a reason to issue one. And why does thou silence me?
She prayed.
Mother does send me a sign that THOU hath naught lost thine mind.

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Lauren awoke to a fresh breeze blowing through the window.
What a dream!
She stretched her arms, wiped the sleep from her eyes, and opened them.
Crap, it wasn’t a dream
. She looked around at the elves, dwarves, and her friends, “What’s up?”

The Earth Mother spoke first, “Does thou naught remember night last? Sword named Tranquil Fury?”

Lauren concentrated for a minute, slowly the fog faded away. DOES
GET OUT OF MINE HEAD, NOW!
She sat up, “Where is Eric?”

Again the Earth Mother spoke, “He does be fine, still sleeps he does.”

Lauren grabbed the Earth Mother, a forbidden act, “Where the hell is Eric?”

“In his room, fine does Eric be.”

Lauren jumped out of her bed, and ran into Eric’s room, trailed by the others. She shook him, lightly slapped his face, but he did not stir. Jumping onto the bed, she straddled him, began slapping him harder, “Wake up!” But Eric did not stir. Lauren jumped off the bed. Her voice, filled with a new authority, she called to the dwarves, “Get him out of the bed, and into that chair. Now!”