Chapter 222: A Convenient Excuse

Tuesday’s Combat Conditioning session ended with Felix unbuckling an academy-issue heater shield and dropping it onto the grass with a heavy sigh.

"The balance is wrong," Felix grumbled, massaging his left shoulder. "It pulls my stance forward every time I brace."

"It’s a piece of plywood with an iron rim," Arthur said, tossing his training dagger into the equipment rack. "You survived an hour. I’m sure your form will recover."

"Easy for you to say," Felix said, picking his bag up from the bench. "If Morwenna handed you a standard recurve instead of Whisperwind, you’d spend the entire session complaining about the draw weight. I’m going down to the forge district to get Aegis Bulwark."

"I’ll come with you," Arthur said.

Felix stopped walking and looked at him. "Why?"

"I’m a supportive roommate," Arthur said smoothly.

Felix gave him a long look. "Do you have a broken dagger? A torn strap? Did you crack that new bracer?"

"My equipment is in perfect condition," Arthur said, falling into step beside him as they headed toward the academy gates. "I just want to make sure the blacksmith doesn’t overcharge you. I’m looking out for your financial interests."

"Right. And you have absolutely no ulterior motive for visiting a forge run by a beautiful dwarven woman."

Arthur grinned. "I’m developing a deep appreciation for metallurgy."

They caught a carriage near the lower quadrangle.

"I am glad you’re getting it back," Arthur said as they rode toward the commercial districts. "That loaner shield is terrible. And you did a hell of a job holding the line in the tomb. If the Keeper’s dagger had gotten past you, Emily and I would have been missing limbs."

"It hit like a battering ram," Felix said, looking out the window at the passing merchant stalls. "I just hope Brokk managed to fix the steel."

"He’s a master smith," Arthur said. "He knows what he’s doing."

The forge district announced itself with the sharp smell of coal smoke and the rhythmic strikes of heavy hammers.

They walked into Iron Anvil’s main workshop. The heat radiating from the massive stone hearths hit them instantly. Two burly apprentices were busy hammering out raw iron billets near the back walls, while Brokk stood near the quenching troughs, inspecting a glowing longsword blade.

Brunhilda was standing at the front counter. Her fiery red hair was tied back in a messy braid, and a streak of gray soot marked her jawline. She had her sleeves rolled up past her elbows, revealing the thick muscle of her forearms as she measured a long strip of boiled leather.

Arthur stopped a few feet from the counter, watching her work.

Felix followed his gaze, found Brunhilda leaning over the leather, and let out a dry breath.

"Fascinating metallurgy," Felix muttered.

"The craftsmanship is exceptional," Arthur agreed, entirely unapologetic.

Brunhilda looked up at the sound of their voices. "Felix. Your shield’s ready. Brokk has it in the back."

Then her eyes shifted, landing on Arthur.

"Did you break the new leather already, Vance?" Brunhilda asked, setting her measuring awl down on the wood.

"Not a scratch on it," Arthur said, stepping up to the counter and resting his forearms against the scarred timber. "I’m just escorting Felix. Figured he could use the company."

Brunhilda met his gaze, her bright green eyes dropping to his chest before looking back up. "Of course. Very generous of you."

Heavy footsteps sounded from the back of the shop. Brokk emerged from the weapon racks, carrying Aegis Bulwark in his thick hands.

"Felix," the dwarven smith said, setting the massive tower shield down on a display barrel with a heavy thud. "Take a look."

Felix stepped past Arthur, running his hands over the steel faceplate.

The lower rim still bore the reinforcement from the quarry ambush. Brokk had repaired the two deep gouges left by the Keeper’s returning dagger, though one shallow mark remained where the blade had struck.

Felix traced the indentation with his thumb.

"There’s still a mark," Brokk said, wiping soot from his hands with a thick rag. "Grinding it out would’ve weakened the plate. The repair’s solid."

"It’s fine," Felix said, slipping his arm through the straps. He raised the shield, settled into his usual guard, and shifted his weight.

"That’s better."

"Looks good," Arthur said. "Now you’ve got a permanent souvenir from the tomb."

"You got exactly what you went into that tomb for," Felix pointed out, unbuckling the shield and resting it against his boot. "I got a repair bill."

"You also got a share of the silver and garnets," Arthur reminded him.

Felix pulled his coin pouch from his belt. "How much do I owe you, Master Brokk?"

While Felix and Brokk handled the silver, Arthur turned his attention back to the front counter.

Brunhilda was watching him. "Sounds like you’ve had a busy few weeks."

"I found an old ruin up north," Arthur said quietly, leaning a little closer to the wood.

"And whatever lived inside it is what put those massive gouges in your friend’s shield," Brunhilda guessed. Her eyes swept over his shoulders again, checking him for hidden bandages or stiff movements.

"It put up a fight," Arthur acknowledged. "But we handled it."

Brunhilda picked up a brass buckle, turning it slowly in her calloused fingers. "So you finally remembered where my shop is."

"I’ve been busy," Arthur said.

"I noticed."

Arthur dropped his voice to a murmur that barely carried over the ringing hammers in the back of the shop. "Missed me?"

"You seem awfully pleased with yourself for someone who’s been absent this long," Brunhilda noted.

"That’s not a no."

Brunhilda shook her head, but an amused smile touched the corners of her mouth. "You’re a menace."

"You told me I didn’t need a broken armor strap to come see you," Arthur reminded her.

"I did," she agreed softly, resting her own arms on the counter. The movement brought her close enough that Arthur could smell the heat of the forge and the faint scent of spiced soap on her skin. "But I assumed you’d find your way back before the season changed."

Arthur grinned. "I’ll try to improve my attendance."

"See that you do."

"Arthur."

Felix’s voice broke the conversation. Arthur glanced over his shoulder.

Felix had Aegis Bulwark slung over his back and his coin pouch secured. He was looking at Arthur with dry resignation.

"I have my shield," Felix said deliberately. "The transaction is complete. We can leave."

Arthur lingered another moment.

"Take your friend home, Vance," Brunhilda said, picking up her measuring awl again. She tapped the heavy iron point against the scarred wood. "If you hang around my counter all afternoon distracting me, I’m going to put an apron on you and make you polish breastplates."

Arthur laughed, finally pushing himself off the counter. "I charge a very high hourly rate for polishing."

"I’ll keep it in mind," Brunhilda said.

"Thank you for the repair, Brokk!" Felix called out to the dwarven smith.

"Try not to bring it back full of holes next week!" Brokk shouted back over the roar of the nearest hearth.

Arthur gave Brunhilda one last look, catching her quiet, amused expression before turning to join Felix.