Trifecta

After lunch, they took a staircase to the lower levels, where the sound of iron being struck could be heard. Heading down, Jane could see an orange light fill the basement. The glow was so intense; she had to shield her eyes until they had adjusted to the gloom. When her vision returned, she was shocked to see a Sheepdog standing on its hind legs while hammering something on an anvil. The girl slowed her advance and kept close to the stairs.

“This is Reinhardt,” Isaac said. “He’s a friend. Well, insofar that’s he’s not an enemy. I think ‘friend’ is pushing it.”

~A Werewolf! ~ Jane signed, shaking. ~Why do you have a Werewolf in your castle?~

“He’s more Border-Collie than Wolf.”

“Chance’ll be a fine thing.” The Dog-man grumbled. His voice was low and distinctly Germanic.

“He married a witch,” Isaac continued. “She tried a spell, but something went wrong, and there’s no way to turn him back. So now he spends his days being sad and well…sadder.”

“The only way to live.” The girl studied him with a curious fascination. His large eyes reflected the fires, and his tail would wag. “She’ll be throwing sticks next.”

Jane caught sight of something on the shelf. It appeared to be a knitted cabbage with coal-black dots for eyes and no mouth. She gestured at Isaac, who shook his head.

It’s a long story. He signed. Not a good ending.

Reinhardt let out a sigh. “If you’re going to waste my time, you can at least do so from the kitchen.”

“Klaus, I need a favour.”

“Stop sleeping in your armour; it won’t bend out of shape.” The Blacksmith said, not bothering to look up.

“No, it’s not for me, it’s for the girl.”

“Does it have a name?

“Jane.”

A beat.

“I’m sorry I asked,” Reinhardt said. He sighed again and gave Isaac his full attention. “How can I be of service?”

“I am training this girl to defend herself. She will need armour.”

“Or you can train her to be a servant and put her to work in the village.”

“A servant girl?” Isaac said. Jane tugged at his arm and signed angrily. “Calm down, no one said anything about being a slave.” He turned back to Reinhardt. “Klaus, come on. She’s trying to meet the Empress.”

“What makes you think the Empress would want to meet her?”

“Isn’t that the point of it all? To get back what was lost?”

Reinhardt stopped what he was doing. “Sometimes you need to let go of what has been lost. You more than any should know.”

“This is not about me.”

“Only when you convince yourself will you be finally free of it,” Reinhardt said bluntly. An uncomfortable silence followed. “Fine.” The Blacksmith lifted a thumb at the girl and waggled it left to right. Satisfied, he threw the Knight a set of keys. “Take your friend to the ‘Happy Place’. Try not to knock anything over.”

“Good man.”

“Maybe. Once upon a time...”

What does he mean by ‘Happy Place ’?

“You’ll see. C’mon.”

The room in question was located through a door in the darkest corner of the Forge. After descending a flight of stairs, they came to an enormous hall with rows of gleaming armour hanging from an army of wooden mannequins. All sizes and shapes were catered for, in a variety of metals. Reinhardt had been busy. The girl looked slightly unnerved. The display gave her the creeps, as if these suits of armour could come to life at any moment. It reminded her of a school trip to a War museum.

There are so many.

“Yeah, I often come here and try on a new one,” Isaac said. He offered one of the helmets to the girl. It was square with a gold cross placed in the middle. "Try this one. See what you think.” She slipped it on, panicked and started banging the sides in desperation. He quickly lifted it back up. “Problem?”

~It is too dark. I can barely see out of it.~

“That’s the point of protection,” Isaac said. The girl crossed her arms, unimpressed. “Let’s keep looking.”

Jane tugged at Isaac's shirt as they strolled past the endless cabinets filled with daggers.

~Why are you helping me?~

“I’m supposed to say it is my duty, but it’s really out of selfishness,” Isaac said, opening one of the cabinets. “A long time ago, I failed someone; someone I was close to.”

He carefully examined the length of the blade. “I was too pleased with myself, thinking I had done the right thing, when I should have been teaching them how to fight. I cannot make that mistake again” Replacing the dagger, he puffed out a breath. “Anyway, let’s not get distracted. We are losing light.”

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Jane’s gaze strayed toward a discarded helmet tucked away at the base of one of the suits. It was grubby, with a grill for eyes and dots on the lower half. Placing it on her head, she rolled her shoulders and looked left to right. Satisfied, she patted the top. Isaac knelt down and adjusted the straps on the back,

“Cydonian armour.” He said. “Are you sure?” The girl gave him the thumbs up. “Well, alright then. Let’s get the rest.”

They came to a selection of armour made for children. The girl frowned, how any child was supposed to manoeuvre in all this plate metal was beyond her. They were better off running for their lives. She thought how strange it felt, like shopping for clothes. This sparked a memory in the swirling mists that made up her form. It brought her back to days when she would take the old bus to the shopping centre with friends, stopping off for lunchtime burgers and shakes—the joy, laughter, and goofing around. The girl remembered when her parents took them on nature walks through the hills. The hail would pelt down sideways, as the two sisters stamped through puddles, despite being told not to. These puddles were different this time; the reflection bore no face, just an empty hood looking back. Jane shook her head and came back.

~I have to go home, I need to go.~

“Yes, that’s the point of this little excursion.”

She wasn’t paying attention. Her focus strayed toward something in the forest of mannequins. A set of armour stood out for being the most colourful and least cumbersome. It was a mustard-coloured cloth tied over the breast plate, and came down just above the knees. The arms and hands were covered by chain mail, with worn leather gloves. The lower half was mostly light plates of metal and leather boots. Impressed, Jane ran a hand down the arms and felt the darkened sleeves of linked metal. Something about this set seemed to speak to her; something that felt right. She turned to Isaac and nodded.

“It’s a good size.” He said. “Are you sure this is the one?”

The girl took a dagger from the cabinet and slid it straight into a tiny scabbard. Case closed.

***

While Reinhardt was reinforcing the new helmet, Isaac took Jane to the beach located at the rear end of the Keep. A long staircase led toward a wide portcullis set under a stone arch. The Old Knight used a ‘Paladin Key’ and pulled on a lever. The gate shot up instantly, leaving the way open for a well-stocked armoury. It reminded Jane of someone’s garage, with swords and shields instead of tools. Axes were stacked in a barrel in the corner, with Bludgeons on a wall to the right. She immediately gravitated toward the giant sword spanning the left-hand wall. She admired the weapon's size and how it was slightly shorter than herself.

“A Claymore,” Isaac said, slightly amused. “Otherwise known as a ‘Great Sword.’ Unless you have horses charging at you, it is not the best choice for a one-to-one battle.” The girl picked out a small sword.

~I could use this.~

“Ah, a Cutlass,” Isaac said. “This one is known as ‘Bee-Eater’ or ‘Sword of the Blade’. I remember not wanting to sell it because I swore I would use it later. I never did.” He weighed the weapon with both hands. “Good for a secondary weapon, but let me tell you why a sword should not be your first pick. Stay still.” He moved around, and after a few seconds, Jane suddenly felt a tap from behind. Looking to her left, she saw half a wooden blade resting on her shoulder. Isaac came back into view. “Of course, you couldn’t hear me sneaking up behind you. That’s where you are vulnerable. Once your enemy realises this, you are done for. Hop the twig, as they say.”

So I can’t do anything?

“Let’s not give up hope just yet. You have to shift the balance in your favour.” Isaac pulled out one of the pole weapons that were neatly stacked under a workbench. It had a short shaft ending with a spear point on either end.

“I presentChain-Maker; a Javelin. It can be used for both close quarters and throwing. I think it will be more to your liking.” He handed her a Gladiator helmet. Come on, let’s try it out.”

As they walked down the wrinkled beach, Jane wondered if there was a sea. She could see only a line on the horizon, with no sense of movement. With three moons, it would not take much for the sea to drown the forest with one freak wave. A cheery thought to warm her up, while she put on the helmet. Isaac handed her the Javelin.

“How does that feel?” He asked. Jane shrugged. “The trick is to keep your grip in the middle. Too far back and your hits will be too weak, too far forward and the back end will drag it down. Get used to the weight, find the balance.” He used his sword to position the weapon outward “Keep on the move in this position, you will find it easier to keep your rearguard protected.” He took a few steps back. “Alright, let’s see what you can do.”

Jane took Chain-Maker in both hands. She began to swing it around like a majorette in a flamboyant display of showmanship. Once done, she poised angrily with the weapon at the ready. Isaac tapped it with his sword, and it fell from the girl’s hands. “Oh, thank goodness, you nearly had me there.”

~It’s too big.~ Jane signed, frustrated. ~How am I supposed to take this thing into a forest?~

“You won’t always be in the forest. If you weren’t aware, this weapon will stop enemies from sneaking up on you. Pick it up.”

Jane reluctantly bent over and took the weapon in both hands.

~What if I forget how to fight?~

“Skill is like any blade,” Isaac said. “If it is neglected, it will become dull and ineffective, which is why you must practice every day. Trust me, enemies will come when it’s least convenient, you have to respond with more than a bored look.” He raised his sword. “Shall we?”

Over a few hours, Jane began to apply everything she had learned in the past eighteen months. Positioning, muscle memory, and technique came automatically thanks to the unique nature of the training: The wooden blocks had taught her to keep her feet balanced while constantly shifting.

‘The lesson of the Sword’ built up the strength in her arm, while ‘The lesson of the Spear’ taught her how to pierce with any pole weapon.

The Log run allowed her shield to deflect incoming blows from all sides, while the sewer chase helped her anticipate danger. With the dagger, she skewered the nearby pumpkins in place of enemies and knew how to change weapons swiftly. They sparred throughout the afternoon; slowly at first before increasing the intensity, until the clouds grew dim and grey. Satisfied, Isaac put a stop to the training.

“Good, good.” He said. “You are ready, but you can always improve.”

Jane looked up at the three moons. The two smaller ones were now lined up on the right. “The Trifecta.” He added. “This only occurs once every hundred or so years. You’re lucky, not many get to see it.”

Jane scooped up a handful of sand. It reminded her of home, of picnics on the beach, when the family would let their English Sheepdog run free as they sat on the grassy bank, eating Banana buns There was sadness in her expression, a permanent aching for a time before the madness, a time when the world spun on its apathetic axis, and youth culture heaved with a disconsolate shrug.

“Are you alright?” Isaac asked, watching Jane spell out ‘Inverness’ on the sand. “Is that where you’re from?”

The girl nodded.

~What if I never see my family again?~

"What if you wake up as a crab and find out reality was just a dream?" Isaac said. "Only worry about what is before you; the rest will play out in time."

~Where do you live?~

“It doesn’t matter," Isaac said, turning toward the sea. "I’m not there anymore.”