We had breakfast together in the morning as a family, and we planned how we would make things work in the household. In the smithy there were already four work areas set up near the two forges which were in use by Dortham, Elric, Darek and Hituren. With Hituren gone, which included the anvil and all the tools that were made for him, that left one station open for Bran and it meant we had to make room for one more station for me.

  Father intended to teach us everything he knew about armor smithing, which was a lot. He was very good at it. That meant we had to learn a new trade almost from the beginning, but I was eager to start. There was a lot that we already knew just by watching father work all those years, but we still had to put the pieces of knowledge together and practice. We also needed to make our own tools. That was going to take some time and father’s expertise, but with the ingots and anvils we carried back from Kurgh Rhamot, we had very good raw materials with which to make that happen. That journey was more of a trial than I thought it would be, but now Bran and I were ready to reap the reward.

  Dortham gave us a day to rest. We needed new clothes and boots anyway, as the ones we wore in Kurgh Rhamot were worn out and too small. It surprised me as I thought about it, but I didn’t know how or where to buy clothes and boots. I’d never had to do that before, but Juleen and Elle did. They were working for the Bakers two doors over from us, and they arranged to take some time off to help us out. It made sense to me. Bran and I were pretty helpless in this sort of situation. Bran washed up a bit more than usual when it was almost time to go with the girls. I decided I should clean up a bit as well, just so I didn’t ruin his sterling look and drag him down to my level.

  When Juleen and Elle came home from the bakery for lunch, they still had white handprints here and there on their dresses where the aprons didn’t cover. Elle brushed a strand of hair behind her ear that had come loose from the bun she wore it in while working. Bran smiled broadly as soon as he saw her, and she timidly smiled back.

  “Um, hi, Elle,” Bran said, ever the font of flowery words. He just stood there stupidly as the girls finished setting the table. She waved and smiled a little uncomfortably.

  “Idiot,” I whispered, as the girls chattered to each other. “Think of something better to talk about.”

  My back was still killing me from carrying that heavy pack from Kurgh Rhamot, and my bruises hadn’t healed yet. That was what I was looking forward to the most, actually. Healing the bruising without someone putting another few bruises on me somewhere. For the past two years, I felt like a steak that mom had tenderized with her little hammer, and I wasn’t sorry that it was over.

  Mira and Bandit joined us for lunch, which must have remained their habit in the time Bran and I were gone. Mira was wearing a gray dress, one that was universally worn by wash maids, which I could tell she hated even more than the rough, itchy dress she used to wear. I still felt bad about my outburst yesterday, so instead of teasing her about the dress she despised, I asked her about any new wizard stuff she’d learned.

  We all had a nice lunch together, and we talked more about the Terrans’ lifestyle. I let Bran do most of the talking since he had more at stake and hadn’t seen his heart’s desire in two years. Talking about foreign lands made him seem more interesting to everyone, I could tell, and I graciously ceded the attention to him. When we were done eating, Nora gave Juleen a little pouch of money and out the door we went. Mira had to go back to her job as a wash maid (which she despised), so we said goodbye and went our separate ways.

  We decided to get the boots first since it takes more time to do that. To get to the cobbler’s shop, we went down the street away from the closest gate for two blocks, then cut through an alley to take a shortcut. Unfortunately, the courtyard at the end of the alley was occupied by none other than Kromwell and his gang. There was a smaller boy curled up on the ground holding his ribs while Kromwell and his toadies laughed.

  Bran and I had discussed this sort of situation when we were in training in Kurgh Rhamot, and we shared a grim glance. It took less time than we thought for this confrontation to take place, but this time Bran and I were determined things would be different. Raynold, the smallest of the gang, noticed us first and hissed a warning to the others. They all looked over at us and grinned. They were still two years our seniors, of course, but they hadn’t noticed the changes in Bran and me yet. Juleen and Elle backed up a couple of steps in case they had to run, and Bran and I stepped in front of them protectively.

  “Well, well! Look who’s back!” Kromwell said with a menacing sneer as the gang advanced on us. “Your clothes seem even shabbier than I remember. And by the looks of your faces, I’d say you spent your time in a dungeon!”

  “Or maybe they got beat up by a girl,” Sethor said helpfully.

  “Yeah. Uh. A couple times,” Lerg said stupidly. This was the part of a confrontation where a little dung fly like Kromwell liked to pile on the insults as his gang surrounded its quarry. They were advancing on us do surround us right then, but they hadn’t gotten close enough yet.

  Terran unarmed combat focused a lot on finding solid footing and then punching while deflecting and blocking punches from an opponent. Basically, it was advanced bar fighting, and Bran and I had gotten pretty good at it. We couldn’t actually block punches with our faces like the toughest Terrans could, but we had gotten very practiced at blocking and evading strikes. The Terrans were a lot stronger than us, but we were quicker, and we learned to use that to our advantage. That turned into a big advantage here. I doubted these bullies had any training at all, and we were about to find out for sure.

  Bran and I shared a glance, and he nodded. Together, we were already in motion, advancing on the gang without speaking a word, which turned out to be quite unexpected and confusing to the bullies. Bran charged Lerg, the biggest of the group, and punched that mocking sneer right off his stupid face. I was already advancing on Kromwell, my fists up defensively, and as I sidestepped and deflected the expected wild swing, I delivered two body shots and a stunning uppercut to his chin almost before his grin faded. I guess he expected to get off a few more cutting words after landing a heroic strike.

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  Kromwell staggered back a few steps, and as he did so I blocked a punch from Bermin with my left forearm, who was sneaking up on my left flank. I pivoted and threw a right cross that caught him solidly on the side of his eye with a loud smack and knocked him off his feet. Raynold tried his luck and advanced on Bran, who laid him out with a left hook to the jaw. Lerg came back at Bran, who sidestepped, grabbed his right arm, and flipped Lerg head over heels to land on his backside on the cobbles. As I knew from experience, that had to hurt. I went back at Kromwell, who had gotten his balance back and was coming at me with both arms extended at his sides and head down like he was going to tackle me. Jumping, I hit him on the crown of his head with a flying knee that stopped him in his tracks. I landed and sidestepped, then I grabbed his right arm and flipped him on his backside. He groaned in pain where he lay on the cobbles.

  Sethor had been hanging back, as he was a coward at heart, but he charged Bran just after Bran flipped Lerg, thinking that Bran was unaware of the attack. It was a big mistake. Bran pivoted to face him, fists up protectively to block the expected haymaker, and then gave him a jab to the face with his right then left fist, then smashed him in the nose with a brutal right-hand punch that had all his considerable strength behind it. Sethor went down holding his nose with blood pouring from it. Seeing that Kromwell was trying to get up, his face full of hate, I kicked him in the face, which knocked him back onto his back, then I jumped on his chest. With my weight holding him down, I started punching the snot out of him. He tried to block the punches, kick, scratch, squirm, and everything he could think of, but I beat him senseless. Lerg didn’t give up, to his credit, and went back at Bran, who dodged, then delivered a solid punch to Lerg’s ribs and followed with a punch to his jaw, knocking him unconscious. With looks of great fear, Sethor and Bermin picked themselves up and ran off without looking back. Raynold was still unconscious when it became clear that Kromwell and Lerg were too badly beaten to defend themselves.

  Bran and I, breathing heavily, shared a satisfied look as we got up and dusted ourselves off. The little boy who started the melee on the ground was still there staring up at us with wide eyes. Bran walked over and helped him up. I sensed some movement in my peripheral vision, and saw an older woman watching us from a second-floor window. She smiled and gave us a thumbs up sign. Juleen and Elle were still standing at the entrance to the alley from which we entered, staring with wide eyes.

  “That was a long time in coming,” Bran said to me. “Are you all right?” Bran asked the boy.

  “I’m better than they are,” he said. “Thanks!” With that, he ran off, still clutching his ribs.

  Kromwell was starting to groan where he lay on the cobblestones with a bloody face. Lerg was still unconscious. Bran nodded in satisfaction. He had a strong sense of justice even then, and I knew he was remembering all the wrongs inflicted on us over the years. They deserved a lot worse in my opinion. Bran turned to face Juleen and Elle.

  “Shall we?” Bran asked the girls, holding a hand to indicate the opposite alley.

  Juleen and Elle walked across the little courtyard and started walking the way we were originally going like nothing happened. Bran and I followed after them, by now breathing normally. We went about the rest of our day in good spirits.

  -----

  Kromwell stormed through the front door of his family’s home with Lerg and Raynold close behind him. His eyes were already starting to blacken, and blood from his broken nose stained his face and shirt. Lerg was in much the same condition, but he looked uncertain of his next course of action. Raynold was still rubbing his sore jaw, but he was only following Kromwell because he had to, his eyes downcast. Kromwell didn’t hesitate or deviate from his present course to the study, however. When he got there and saw his father wasn’t at his desk, Kromwell went to the display of weapons on the wall and began pulling some down. He took a battleaxe off the wall and handed it to Lerg, then took an arming sword and gave it to Raynold. He took the best weapon, an arming sword that his father used, off the wall and briefly admired the gold hilt and the way it felt in his hand.

  “Is it a good idea to do this in broad daylight?” Raynold asked, his eyes carefully downcast.

  “I dunt care bat timb bit is,” Kromwell almost shouted, “I well bake dis wight.” Blood still oozed from Kromwell’s crooked, broken nose, and it made a little bloody snot bubble there on the end of his nostril.

  “Ub. We bight get caught, Kwobwell,” Lerg said through bloody, swollen lips.

  The sound of boots came from the staircase and then down the hallway towards the study. Almost in a panic, but unwilling to give up his plan, Kromwell turned towards the doorway and hid his father’s sword behind his back. Raynold and Lerg quickly did the same. After a few more loud footsteps, Sivash Surekeel entered the room. He instantly noticed the three young men standing there with their hands behind their backs, then noticed the empty places on the wall where his trophies were kept.

  “What are you bloody idiots doing?” Sivash asked nonchalantly.

  “Be’re goin’ to get rebenge,” Kromwell stated.

  “No, you’re not,” Sivash said firmly. “Are you honestly so stupid that you’ll walk through the city in broad daylight in front of hundreds of witnesses carrying my very recognizable sword and then do murder with it? Is that your entire brainless plan?”

  The three boys knew better than to say anything at all. They hung their heads in shame. Raynold was the first to put the arming sword back in its place on the wall. Lerg put the axe back, then, reluctantly, Kromwell divested himself of the sword.

  “By the looks of you, whoever did that can beat your worthless asses any time they want. I doubt that having a sword in your untrained hands would do you any good at all.” Sivash paused. “Who did that, anyway?”

  “Da Sbiff brudders,” Kromwell said.

  “All of them? I can’t blame you for that. Did you at least give a good account of yourselves?”

  “It bas dust da two sballer buns,” Kromwell said with his head down.

  “Just the two smaller ones, you say? They are years younger than you, are they not?”

  Sivash walked over to his son, roughly grabbed Kromwell’s nose, then yanked it back into place. Kromwell yelled out in pain. Sivash kept his hold on Kromwell’s nose and stared dangerously into his son’s eyes.

  “How weak. Pathetic,” Sivash said with acid in his tone. He paused for a moment to release his son’s nose and to give his next words more emphasis. “If any of you fools bring any attention to this house, in any way at all, I will personally flay the skin from your bodies.”

  The shock of hearing that and the deadly intent behind the words set the boys on their heels, all thoughts of revenge or provoking another fight suddenly gone. They each gulped in fear, wide-eyed.

  “I trust each of you knows how important my plans are.”

  All three boys nodded.

  “And how secretly they must be carried out.”

  They nodded again.

  “This is not an idle threat,” Sivash said in a low voice. “All of you will cease your childish bullying and anything else that could bring attention to me or my businesses, or you will rue the day you were born. Now get out of my sight!”

  The three young men were very quick to comply, almost tripping over each other in their haste to get out of the house. Children all over the upper city would have been delighted to know that their torment was over. As happy as they would have been to know, they would have been even more fearful of the terrible reason for their deliverance. Something much, much worse was brewing.