The Patchwork Knight (Chapter 1)

     I was born in a small outlying village of the Targan realm. It was a rocky and mountainous region. My father was a blacksmith in a village that had little use for one. He made his fair share of pick axes and hammers, but there was little need for anything else, and he was forbidden by law to make arms. That was left to the court smithy. The kingdom had strict rules on arming the peasantry. It kept revolts at a low, not that there was enough interest in a revolt as far from the castle as we were.

     Our village was left alone except for the once a year pilgrimage to the castle to pay homage to the king on his birthday. It was on one of these trips that I saw them for the first time. When I was a lad, there was only one thing that I wanted, and that was to be a knight. It was on this trip that I saw the court knights coming back from a campaign on the borderlands. Their armor was scarred but still gleamed in the sunlight, in all it's splendor. The rode through the outer market with a pride that I'd never seen in anyone before. My father noticed me starring at them. "Those are the Calvary Knights of Targan. Did I ever tell you about the time I fought beside them in the Blind War?"

      "You fought beside knights?"

      "Yes, boy. I wasn't always a village blacksmith."

      "Are you a knight father?"

      "No lad, I was a soldier in the infantry. We would follow the cavalry into battle. They would run through the lines, and we would swarm in and clean up what was left."

      The Blind War was named thusly, because it was said that it was the war to end all wars, and that no one could turn a blind eye to it. I'll tell you more about the Blind War later.

      "Come now boy, there is someone I want you to meet." We walked through the market until we were near the wall of the outer castle. Against the wall was a large stall with weapons adorning every post. This was the market stall of the court smithy. "Here boy, this is my old friend Galdren. He thought me everything I know about smithing."

      "Yes, but I didn't teach you everything I know." The man said with a grin. "How have you been you ol' badger?"

      "Not as good as you, from the looks of that belly you got there." The man was excessively large, and he laughed at my fathers words. "This is my son Galdren. He is here in the kingdoms outer walls for the first time. Say hello to Galdren, Pitre."

      "Hello sir. It's very nice to meet you." He grabbed a hold of my hand with a mighty grip. My fathers grip was similar, so I was used to the squeezing that I was now getting.

       "Pitre, how are you my boy? Are you sure this is your father? You are too handsome of a young man to come from this mud gump." Another burst of laughter came from him. My father joined in. "Did your father tell you where we met?"

       "No sir."

       "We met back in the Blind War. Your dad was a no good infantry man, wanting to learn a trade. He would hang around my forge trailer during every march. I was always surprised whenever he would come back after each battle. He was a skinny lad back in those days, could barely hold his shield up."

       "Now Galdren, If my memory serves me, you were a bit more svelte yourself." Another fit of laughter from the both of them.

       "Sir? Did you make the armor for the calvary knights?"

       "Did you see them lad? Aye, I made their armor. Well, I oversaw the making of their armor. I don't swing the hammer much anymore, except for very special occasions, and of course the king's own armor."

       "Their armor was magnificent sir."

       "Ah, your boy has a discerning eye for good taste, unlike his father."

       "Now now Galdren, I always said that you were the best smithy in the ranks."

       "That you did, but I never believed that you meant it. Your father was always quick with a compliment. It was his way of getting out of trouble with his superiors."

       "And it worked every time. I wanted to show the boy what you could do with a hammer and anvil. I don't get to make anything like this back at the village."

       "For you, anything. Truth on the table boy. Your father saved my life on more than one occasion during the war."

       "You did." I looked at my father and saw him in a whole new light. I always loved my father, but I never knew him to be a fighter in any sense. He was always quiet but jovial, and he treated everyone with respect.

       "Don't believe the ramblings of an old fool. He would say anything to make a sale."

      "It's true boy. The first time was when the raiders of the mudwood snuck into our camp one night. Your father in his typical fashion, would come to my trailer and sleep underneath so that he could learn how to forge steel. This one night, the raiders came into camp and were slaughtering the support caravan for the army. Your father woke up, just as they were barging into my trailer. He killed 3 of them on his own before sounding the alarm. We lost a lot of people that night, but if it weren't for him, we would have probably lost the entire caravan. That was the day I decided that I would finally teach him how to really forge. Up until that point, I only had him sharpening blades."

      "I thought you said that was part of being an apprentice?"

      "That was the only way to get you off my back, so that I could do my job. The king expects weapons to be made in a timely manner during war."

      "If you saved the whole caravan, why weren't  you a knight."

      "I was low born boy. We don't get to be knights. The best hope for us, is to be a good soldier and not die in battle. Then we get to go home after the war and learn the family trade. Since I was an orphan, I had no family to learn a trade from, so I latched on to this old lump of coal here."

       I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My father was a hero of the Blind War. I decided at that moment, that I was going to make him proud and become a knight.