• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Destrin kept looking at me as I cleaned and sharpened the tools, and then as I cleaned off the second bench, re-racking all the odds and ends into the old cabinets that seemed to have a place for everything.

Only after I had done that, and I realized it was well after noon, did I lay out the wood pieces for the box.

“Father…” A light voice came from the now-open door at the back of the shop, a second staircase to the quarters. “I didn’t know anyone was here.” The girl was golden-haired, thin like her father, and petite, although definitely feminine in shape and demeanor. Her voice was thin like his, but not whiny, just thin, or tired. Her face was not quite elfin, with a short but straight nose a touch too long to be called cute, and her eyes were a brown-flecked green. She wore a faded blue apron over calf-length brown trousers and an equally faded yellow shirt. Her feet were in sandals.

“I didn’t mean to surprise you. My name is Lerris,” I told her.

She looked from her father to me and back again.

“I’m trying to persuade your father to take me on as a journeyman.”

“Hmmmmphhmmm,” noted Destrin. He coughed again.

I wondered if that were his way of avoiding commenting on anything. Again, I said nothing as I finished measuring the wood scraps.

“Would you like to join us for some dinner?” she asked. “It’s only soup with some fruit and biscuits.”

Destrin glared at his daughter.

“Neither one of you knows me. I appreciate the offer, but, until I finish something of value for Destrin…” As I spoke I could see the woodcrafter relax.

“Let me bring you something to drink and some fruit at least.”

“I wouldn’t object to that, mistress, but I need to keep working.”

She looked down, then retreated up the stairs.

As usual, everything took longer than it should. I had to readjust the wood vise, including a minor repair of the fastening on the bottom plate, and the sawing took longer because the blades weren’t as sharp as Uncle Sardit’s.

In fact, though I only took a few minutes to gulp down the sliced soft apples she set out along with a battered blue clay mug, it was nearly supper time before I finished gluing the last joins together. The whole time, Destrin had “hmmphed” along with the bench, barely finishing his by the time I put the little white oak box into the setting clamps.

It didn’t take very long to groove a rectangle on the top and chalk out a simple four-point star, then carve and chisel out the shallow design.

The box was good and workmanlike, not exquisite, but better than much of what I had seen.

“You know woods and tools,” Destrin said grudgingly.

“It’s nice,” observed his daughter.

“Better than nice, Deirdre. Fetch a silver or two in the market.” He almost smiled.

I shrugged, not wanting to correct the older man. I didn’t know Fenard, but I doubted that the box would fetch more than a half silver. “Are you interested in a journeyman?”

“Can’t pay much.”

“I don’t ask for anything up front. You get half of what I can make and sell. I pay two coppers an eight-day for room, and another two for food, but if I clean out the old stable I can put my pony there.”

Destrin’s head jerked up at the mention of the pony. “Where are you from, fellow?”

“Up the North Coast. I went to Freetown, but I had to leave. There was no work after the black ones closed down the port.”

“You could afford a horse?” asked Deirdre.

“Hardly,” I laughed. “He’s a shaggy mountain pony, and he doesn’t eat too much.”

“Another two pennies for the stable.”

“Two pennies, but only if I don’t make you a half-silver an eight-day.”

Destrin reflected, but not for long. “All right. And you sleep here in the shop. There’s a small room in the corner.”

That was all I wanted, for the moment. I needed some funds, some time to think and to read The Basis of Order, and somewhere to stable Gairloch.

“You have supper with us upstairs,” added the craft-master. He looked around the shop.

I understood. “After I clean up a little.”

He nodded.

Destrin was getting