Trent ch 3

Chapter Three

I sent that boy on his way home, Trent.” Ivan called to Trent. He had just closed the shop for midday meal, and was standing in the doorway watching Trent as she labored on another sword—this one for Haven. She would come and visit when their brother Domi—whom they called their ‘cousin’ to keep their parent’s marriage a secret—when Domi took the Fourth-year Page Examinations. They’d seen each other only once since Haven joined the Shang, and it was only by coincidence. The Shang were on another round through the various kingdoms, looking for likely warriors willing to join their numbers. Haven, having left before the other three started to change their appearance, looked unchanged—the only original copy of the four girls.
Trent’s version of the charm wasn’t too far off from the original, but it was hard to tell when she was at work in the forge and covered in sweat. She was wearing her usual blacksmith garb: tight black breeches, soft-soled knee-high boots, no shirt, and a full-length leather work-apron. Trent loved the heat, and liked to expose as much of her body to it as possible. Ivan, on the other hand, was in full garb. He wore dark brown breeches, mid-calf soft-soled shoes, a white shirt, and a light brown vest with the Armoury’s emblem of a snowy white owl on the right breast. Trent had copied the owl from her mother’s first shield.
“Thank you, Ivan,” she called back, not turning from her work. She knew he had been standing there for a while. He always did that, ever since he started training her as an apprentice. But she hadn’t known that until the day she burned her hand and he came running over with an ice-cold cloth from the ever-present icebox and rescued her finger. After that, Trent always looked over her shoulder when she thought she was alone in the forge only to discover that she was wrong. Most times, Ivan would be at another work place doing something with his hands, and watching her—just to make sure that she was safe. On one occasion Trent commented that he was acting like a mother hen. He was indignant, and denied ever watching her, but they both knew better. Ivan was a mother hen, and thought of her as his niece. He protected her, and comforted her when she cried—albeit awkwardly at first, but now that Trent rarely cried, he listened to her vent frustrations instead of offer his shoulder. It looked like some venting would happen soon.
“He walked right by me, and didn’t recognize me,” Trent went on in a bitter voice. “They’re all so prejudiced.” She wrinkled her nose in disdain.
He was afraid of this. Trent hated to be the center of attention, but at the same time she hated it when she was dismissed, overlooked, or not taken seriously. But that’s not what scared Ivan: Trent was starting to vent, but Ivan knew that his reply could only lead to a touchier and over-fought subject, which would take them to the painful past. His shirt was bound to get wet. Ivan thought his answer over carefully. “He wanted to thank you. He was probably so focused on finding you the same way he saw you the night before, that he didn’t recognize you at the forge. He’s not as prejudiced as you think he is.” He hesitated. What he had to say next would bring on the storm of tears, but it had to be said. It always did. He took a deep breath and plunged on. “From what I can see, the only one prejudiced is you.”
Trent stopped her hammer in mid-swing. She lowered it slowly and turned to look at him with hurt eyes. “That’s not fair, Ivan. You know why I don’t trust nobles.” She completely forgot her former complaint, and focused on the insult. “You know what they did to—.” Her eyes started to well up with tears.
“Yes, Lass. I know—I know why you hate nobles.” He walked over to her and wrapped her up in a giant hug. She clung to him, her eyes now spilling over. “I’m as sorry as you are to bring the subject up again, but you have to let it all go, Trent. Put the past behind you and move on.” He kissed her on the head, and released her. “You’re a smart woman, Trent. It’s about time you started acting like one.” Trent nodded.
“I suppose you’re right. But—. It’s hard to forget. When you’ve been hurt so many times, it kinda leaves a lasting impression on you.” She turned back to her work before it was too late for her to finish.
“I know it’s hard, Trent. But please try. Don’t let the past get in the way of a new beginning.” He walked back to the door of the store. “By the way. How much sleep-poison did you give him?” he asked changing the subject.
“It’s called sleep-weed. And I think I gave him too much. He slept all day yesterday without waking up even once, but he was able to heal almost completely during that time,” she assured Ivan. “Besides,” she smiled to herself, “he was cute to look at. Almost peaceful when he slept.”
“You’re going soft, girl,” Ivan growled. Trent just laughed.
“No. Not really. He was just a little different somehow. Like I’ve met him before or something. Or someone very much like him. Hmm,” she mused. “I wonder if I have met him before, a very long time ago. Perhaps when I was just a babe.”
“Didn’t you just call him prejudiced not two minutes ago? I wish you’d make up your mind, Lass! Either fall in love with the boy or hate him! Stop floundering in between, or you’ll get me confused!” he teased her.
“I am not falling in love with anyone, Ivan. He just reminds me of someone that I know. Someone who was, or maybe still, is very important in my life.” Trent stopped her work again, this time to gaze into the flames of her forge.
“I think you’d better get that boy out of your head before you ruin that sword that you’re supposed to be working on for your sister.” Trent’s head snapped back down to her work, and she immediately started moving again. Leave it to Ivan to embarrass you and bring you back to reality all in one swift move. “You have that day-dreaming look on your face that only innocent, swooning, foolish maidens get when they see a man with a cute face and broad shoulders.”
Trent glared at him. “He’s not distracting me! And besides, I can probably concentrate on the smithy a lot better than he’ll be able to concentrate on anything for a few days! You wouldn’t believe how he stared at me! He was still delirious while I was about to re-open his wound and he complimented my on my eyes! My eyes! When he was delirious! How many other men have liked my eyes, and not been able to even walk straight for a week?”
“I’ve lost count. After the first month, I didn’t think it was worth it, all those boys walking into my shop with a mission and a list of what they needed, only to suddenly go mute or dumb when they saw you.” Ivan grinned at her wolfishly. She stuck her tongue back out at him. “Great. Glad you’re back to your normal, cranky self. Now finish that sword so we can eat!”
“Yes sir!” Trent attacked her work with renewed vigor.

I can’t believe it.” Neal and Merric were still in Neal’s rooms after Nathaniel was sent off. He was still a little weak, but he was practically healed completely. There would hardly even be a scar left over!
“Neither can I,” Neal agreed.
“She’s actually here. I haven’t seen her since she was tiny!” Merric was dazed. He had been there for the quads’ birth, and had helped raise them until they were about seven. But that was the last he had seen of Trinity. Haven left to join the Shang Warriors when they were all four. She was the earliest to leave. Hope and Dry left when they were ten to go to the University in Carthak and to go to the convent to become a lady, but he had not seen that. And Trinity, as far as Merric and Neal knew, had stayed with her mother in Scanra. They had no idea what she had made of herself, but if she was working in an armoury—. There was almost no doubt that she was her mother’s daughter.
“We have to go see her.”
“I fully agree, Merric, but what about Domi. They’re family, you know. Does he even know that she’s here?”
“I don’t know Neal. But surely she’d have sent word if she wanted people to know she was here. Wouldn’t she?”
“We don’t really know that Merric. Remember, we haven’t seen her since she was five! And she was very determined, and Raoul knew her the best. And besides, if she’s working in an armoury she could be trying to blend in with the commoners, to be known as a noble. I can’t imagine why she would do that though.”
“We can ask her that when we see her, but for now, we’ve got to find her!”

Trent was in the middle of forging a sword, when she had special visitors come to call. “Hello? Trinity? Are you here?” Neal called.
“Ivan! I’m a little busy right now. Can you deal with them?” Trent called from the forge behind the store.
“No problem, Lass.” He put down his whetstone and stood up from behind the desk to greet the visitors. “Hello, good sirs. I am Ivan von Dreger, Trent’s master. How may I help you?
“I am Sir Nealan of Queenscove, and this is Sir Merric of Hollyrose. We’re old friends of—Trent.”
“Ah! So you’re the ones! I’ve heard a lot about you both from Trent. It’s a pleasure to meet you finally.” Neal and Merric each took Ivan’s outstretched hand in turn and shook it firmly.
“Trent, eh?” Merric began. “Not—.”
“No. She gave up that name years ago. When she first came to study under me, actually. She wanted a normal, common name—so she could fit into society better and avoid the pesky court nobles at the same time,” he winked, and they laughed nervously at his joke, not really understanding. When Ivan noticed, he said, “You don’t know, do you. About the court, the men there.” They shook their heads, dumbfounded.
“What do you mean by ‘the men there’? Was she harmed in any way?” Merric asked.
“Who? I’ll kill him! I don’t care if it’s the king’s son, I’ll kill him!” Neal declared hotly.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa—keep your noble shirts on. No! It’s not like that, not like what you’re thinking. Well, not exactly. She was mistreated, yes, but nothing permanently damaging. She just holds a grudge now. Which is why I thought it was a miracle that she helped that lad from—.”
Ivan stopped talking when Neal and Merric grinned at each other wickedly. “You know the boy?”
“Oh yes. And so does Trini—I mean Trent. But she was very small. Just a babe when they met.”
“Tell me, has Trent been able to concentrate on—wait. When did she start to work under you? And in what?”
“You don’t know? She wrote you every week. But she didn’t tell you? I’m surprised,” he laughed to himself. “Trent has been learning the trade of a blacksmith since she was seven. She’s very good at it, actually. She’s a journeywoman now, and almost ready to be a Master. I’m just here to make sure she doesn’t start any fights, or be rude to too many nobles. And I don’t live with her,” he assured them. “She’s like a niece or daughter to me and I’d never try to take advantage of her. I live down the street. A couple blocks, actually. The girl is very independent—she likes it that way—and I let her have her privacy.”
“Well, I can see that she’s been in good hands,” Neal said.
“This shop then, it’s hers?” Merric asked. “Since you live two blocks down the road, I mean.”
“Yes, sir. She picked the spot herself, actually. Bought it last time we were here, in fact—so she’d already have a place to set up shop if she ever decided to return to Tortall to stay. She designed the whole place too. Wanted the store in the front, where people could see all the wares, and the forge in the back where it’s hottest. She likes it that way. The heat helps her concentrate, and it gives better quality metal, too.”
“I see,” Merric said.
“Uncle Merric! Uncle Neal!” It was then that Trinity—Trent—emerged from the forge, carrying her newest creation. It was marvelous, handcrafted steel. Almost blue, like the Tyran kind. The blade was sinuous, curving ever so slightly, giving it a deadlier look. The blade was razor sharp, and perfectly balanced with the handle. She laid it down on her desk—almost nonchalantly!—and ran into Neal’s and Merric’s outstretched arms to be enveloped in a giant bear hug. “Oh! I’ve missed you so much!”
“We’ve missed you, too. How are you?”
“You’ve grown so much!” Merric said staring at her in disbelief.
“I’m well. Very well,” she smiled. “As you can see, I have my own store, with Ivan to look after me, and it’s doing quite well. But how did you know I was here?”
“It’s a long story. Trent. So why don’t you let us treat you to lunch, and we’ll talk more about it there?” She thought about it for a while.
“Ivan?” she began sweetly.
“Yes, lass?”
“Would you be so very kind as to watch my store for me?” She blinked her eyes winsomely at him.
“Of course! How can a man say no to those eyes!” he laughed. “Where would you like me to put your latest work?” he asked, hefting the magnificent sword.
“In the safe box, please. It’s a gift; not for sale.”
“As you wish, lass.”
“Thank you, Ivan.” And with that, the three nobles walked out of the store, with Trent betwixt the two taller men.
They walked in constant chatter, all the way to the Grapevine, a prosperous inn, where many knights frequented. Trent tried to object, but they insisted. They wanted to treat her to a special meal, since they had not seen her in years. And besides, it had the best food in Corus. Trent found it hard to object.
The food was delicious! And the company could not be better. Trent had not seen her adoptive uncles since she was five! That was a long time ago. If not for their constant correspondence by letter, she would not have remembered them. They sent her portraits of themselves and of loved ones, and she sent them portraits in return.
But two years ago, she stopped sending her letters. Her uncles didn’t know why, and frankly, neither did Trent. She didn’t want to go back to Tortall then, and had thought it best to cut off all communication with that part of her childhood. But she couldn’t shut the door forever. That was part of the reason why she had decided to come back: family. Extended, real, and adopted. There were so many people here in Tortall who loved her, had cared for her as a babe during the war, and had missed her while she was away. Trent finally admitted that she couldn’t turn her back on them all. It would be like cutting off her arms, her arms that enabled her to be a blacksmith, to live amongst the commoners. Trent couldn’t give that up either.
“So,” Uncle Neal began. “Have you been able to concentrate properly on your work?”
“Of course. Didn’t you see that sword that I just forged?” she defended herself.
“Well, not really. You hid it quickly,” Uncle Merric objected.
“Oh. Sorry. Why do you ask, Uncle Neal?” she asked, interested in their peculiarities.
“Oh, no reason in particular. Do you remember that young man whom you sheltered the other day?” Uncle Merric asked innocently.
“Yes, why?”
“You saved his life.” Coming from Uncle Neal, it couldn’t be denied. He was the only one who was able to recognize Trent’s magic, but only after a few days and if he was in close proximity to the one effected.
“Yes. I only let him in my store after closing hours because he was practically dead on his feet!”
“You’ve gone hard, Trent,” Merric said. “There was a day when you would have opened your hospitable arms to any man who knocked at your door.”
“That was before the Scanran court,” Trent said, taking a deep drink of her slightly alcoholic fruit juice. She never drank alcohol straight. “Why do you ask about the lordling? Was he the king’s grandson or something?”
“Close, but not that close. It’s actually quite amusing,” Uncle Neal said smiling. “Would you like to hear?”
“I suppose.” Trent stretched. “I’ve got nothing better to do at the moment,” she said, trying to hide her excitement. She loved Uncle Neal’s stories. He was such a jester, and he could always make her laugh.
“Well, he was over a week late and we were all getting worried. It was very unlike him to be so late! So we woke up at dawn, all of us ready to go charging out the gates on a reckless search for the poor boy! But of course, we had to make plans, and as we all had our own ideas, and not the strategic abilities of your mother, it took us half the morning! Eventually, we were ready to go. We gathered at the stables an hour before noon and set out towards the gate, and whichever strange plan that we had come up with. Well, we got to the gate as it was opening, and who do you think we saw coming up the hill at full gallop?
“No! Not—!” Trent was on the edge of her seat. She loved Uncle Neal’s exaggerations of real life situations.
“It was the little lordling! Tired and battered from a day and two nights spent in an armoury’s storehouse! We didn’t even recognize him in such poor clothing!” Uncle Neal teased, knowing full well that Trent would never clothe anyone in anything less than the best quality of material.
She took the joke well. “His clothes were infected from his wound and the fever, Uncle Neal, so I had to get them away from him before they started to infect my whole store. And those clothes were the largest ones I had.”
“That’s as may be, but he looked terrible!”
“Now, you know that’s not true, Neal. You didn’t even notice he was missing!”
“That’s beside the point, Merric. He’s not my squire. And who’s telling the story here? You or me?” Uncle Merric gave up the floor.
“As I was saying, we were about to charge out the gates when we saw your little lordling stagger half-dead through the gates! Sir Wallace was furious!”
“He almost got the bucket,” Merric took over. “That is, until Neal came in. He must have sensed your healing work, because he was the only one who believed the boy when he said that he had been waylaid by bandits.”
“Basically, I checked his temperature, his practically-healed wound—you did a very good job on that, might I add. I’m going to have to get more attuned to your powers!—and declared that he was telling the truth because he was in perfect health.”
“Which only confused Sir Wallace more.”
“We tried to explain—to an extent. More so that he would stop asking questions than understand what we were saying, which was impossible for him.”
“You two are evil, Uncle Neal!”
“I know,” Uncle Merric said humbly.
“We try,” Uncle Neal added in kind. “Well anyway. The boy is fine, and he’s dying to know your name.”
“You don’t mean to tell me that—d?”
“That he’s in love with you?” Uncle Neal finished on top of her.
“That he can’t concentrate on anything anymore because he’s fallen under the spell of your dazzling eyes?” Uncle Merric added.
“Very funny you too.”
“We’re serious, Trent! The boy starts day-dreaming at just the mention of your armoury!”
“It reminds me of puppy love, actually.”
“And of course you’d know all about puppy love, Neal. Since you had it more than anyone else in history who has ever gained knighthood.”
“Very funny, Merric. If I were you, I’d keep that tongue between your teeth before I chop it out!”
The rest of the meal was uneventful, and they returned Trent to her store with more stories on the way of Uncle Neal’s and Uncle Merric’s adventures with her mother. They were about to leave, but Trent insisted that they look around her store first. She was a girl to the core, and couldn’t help but want to show off what she had accomplished. Trent showed them about the store and her forge, telling them about her work there in Corus, showing them her latest masterpieces, her first works at the forge, and the plans that she still had for the store and the forge. Her uncles were amazed.
“Wow. You’re really moving up in the world. Of course, it’s not who you really are, Trent. You know that, right? You could have it so much easier if you just told the people who you really are.”
“But I don’t want it easier, Uncle Neal. I like the way I live. I love the smithy. And I don’t want to be known as one of the nobles. It closes so many doors, and locks so many people’s hearts. And that’s precisely why I’m disclaiming my inheritance. I love my parents and my family, and you all, but I hated court. I hate nobles, and I would hate to live as one when it’s so much more fulfilling in life to live as I do now.”
“What happened to you, Trinity?” Merric asked, on the verge of wrapping Trent in another hug.
“I’d really rather not talk about it, Uncle Merric,” she said quietly, her eyes pleading.
Silence.
“Do you know the name of the boy you saved?”
“No, and I don’t want to know, Uncle Neal.”
“Are you sure? He’s dying to know your name. He can’t hardly think of anything but you.”
“Stop teasing me, you two! I don’t have time for a husband! I have work to do! A business to run, things to make! You really expect me to go searching for a lover?”
“I just thought you’d be interested to know. He’s my squire, by the way.”
“Really? What year?” Trent’s interest was piqued. Knightly matters always did that. It was all because of her mother’s stories of when she was studying to be a knight. Trent loved her stories of how she and her friends had gotten into scrapes, fought bandits and spidrens and centaurs.
“He’s a third-year squire. He’s about your age, too, I think. He started a few years late. Aren’t you eighteen thereabouts?” Sir Merric asked innocently.
“Yes, I’m eighteen. What are you hinting at, Uncle Merric?” Trent was suspicious now. Her uncles had never acted this way before.
“Oh, nothing. I just think that you and my squire have a lot in common. Why don’t I properly introduce you sometime? He keeps asking me your name.”
“No. I want nothing to do with nobles and the palace and the court. I hate it!”
“So. You won’t even come to the palace for your brother’s birthday? He’s turning fifteen, you know. And he hasn’t seen you in years. Do you even have a gift for him?”
“He’d love for you to be there,” Neal finished.
“Of course I have a gift for my cousin! What do you think that sword I made earlier was for? To sell!” She turned her nose up at the very thought. “I’d never sell such a magnificent sword. To a commoner, or a noble.”
“Well, why don’t you attend his party?”
“He’s having a party?” she asked suspiciously.
“Yes, he is. In the evening. We’ve asked for one of the spare small ballrooms. It’s a private party, mainly other squires, and a few pages and knights. Most of them might be a little young for you, but some of them have started late, so they’re about your age. You might like to meet them.”
“Why should I believe anything you’re telling me right now?” Trent asked them pointedly. “You’ve both just been trying to set me up with that lordling puppy that I rescued, and now you’re convincing me to attend my cousin’s private party! Is it because the lordling will be there?”
“Well, he might be there. He’s a third-year squire, whereas your—cousin—is a first-year. But I do believe that they know each other, so the lordling could probably be there.”
“But that’s not the point, Trent,” Uncle Merric continued. “The point is that you haven’t seen your bro—I mean cousin, in a long time. And this is a wonderful opportunity for a reunion. Who cares who else will be there! No one will guess the real connection between you two.”
Trent thought about it for a minute. “Introduce me to the palace blacksmiths, and I’ll come. And in a dress, too!”
“Done then!” Uncle Neal exclaimed, holding his hand out. Trent shook it, sealing the deal, and did the same with her Uncle Merric. “We’ll pick you up at lunch, show you around, let you hide out wherever you want, and then it’ll be time for your cousin’s party.”
“Bye, then. Take care, Trent.”
“You old goons!” Trent teased them as she pushed them out her doorway.