For Love or Money by Lady MSM

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I Lie Like a Rug

Chapter 2: I Lie Like a Rug

On our way to Mahtan’s house, I learn the name of the village we’re in (Fana’s Crossing), how far it is from Tirion (pretty damn far), and why exactly there’s no room in the inn (all the farmers have come to the village to sell their crops and wool). I also remember where I’ve heard Mahtan’s name before…he’s actually quite well-known as a smith, and Father’s invited him to come to Tirion several times, but he always refuses.

“Why do you never come to Tirion?” I ask him. “You can’t beat Tirion as far as cities go. We’ve got everything. A tiny village like this…why do you stay here?”

Mahtan frowns. “Ye get to the point quickly, don’t ye, lad.”

I do get to the point quickly, and Indis is always telling me how true princes are more tactful than me. I usually ignore her.

“I was curious,” I explain. “I’m a smith myself, you see, and…”

“Ah, well, that’s different!” says Mahtan, slapping me on the back. “Well, ye see, lad, if I left Fana’s Crossing, no one would ever forgive me! I’m this town’s pride and joy, Eru bless ‘em. Sure if I wasn’t around, who’d make their pots and pans and horseshoes and all that? They’ve got plenty of fine smiths in Tirion. They can do without an old blighter like me.”

“Well, I suppose that makes sense,” I say, “but don’t you…”

Mahtan laughs. “Ah, yer just like me daughter. Always hankerin’ after life in the big city, that one. I tell her she can leave when she gets to be a bit older, but until she’s twenty-one she’s staying right where she is.”

This is another thing I frequently hear from Indis, and my current situation should be proof enough that I don’t listen to her on that either. Indis has no right to discipline me anyway.

“How old is your daughter?” I ask, just to make conversation.

“Eighteen. And yerself? I’m guessing yer not too much older than her.”

“I’m nineteen, actually.”

“What? So young and yer father lets ye wander around the countryside by yerself? Sure and these city folk don’t have an ounce of sense.”

I don’t bother telling him my father has no idea where I am. He probably won’t let me stay in his house if I do. I briefly imagine what’s going on at home: Father is pacing back and forth worrying about me, Indis is saying something like, “Darling, don’t worry. You know how that boy can be. I’m sure he’s at one of his little friends’ houses and he’ll be back tomorrow,” and the brats are being bratty. For a moment I feel guilty about worrying Father—he’s a good sort, really, and I like him—but it passes quickly.

“So, lad,” says Mahtan. “Tell me about yer family. I take it from yer clothes they’re wealthy.”

Quick, lie! I think to myself. Or, rather, selectively omit things. “Yes, we’ve got a bit of money—my father’s somewhat important in the city, I suppose. My—mother is Vanyarin. I also have two brothers. They’re younger than me.”

“Aye, me wife and I always wanted to have more children, but Nerdanel’s about all we can handle. Sure the women in me house are enough to drive any man mad. I may be the breadwinner, but me wife wears the trousers in the family, she does.”

I have to hold back a laugh at how he practically just described my family word for word. Except Father doesn’t know when to hold off on the kids, in my opinion.

“Well, here we are, lad…say, what’s yer name?” asks Mahtan, dismounting and looking at me curiously. I realize with a sinking feeling that I’m done for. If I tell him my real name, he’ll know who I am straight off.

“I’m called Ernil,” I say. This technically isn’t a lie because Ernil means prince, which people do call me, because it’s what I am. Hooray for rationalization!

“Well, Ernil, here we are. I hope ye’ll find me humble home comfortable.” Do I detect sarcasm in his voice? Yes, I think I do. Perhaps I should have given him a more humble-sounding name. I dismount and have a look around.

Mahtan’s house is a largish stone job with a big garden and a decent-looking forge out back. It doesn’t look bad at all, and I tell him so. He seems pleased. “I’m glad ye think so, lad. Probably not as grand as yer used to, eh? Come on in and ye can have a cup of tea.”

When he says this, I remember that it’s still raining outside, and I still haven’t had a chance to dry off yet. I shiver and nod.

Inside, Mahtan goes off to warn his wife that their house has been infiltrated by a nineteen-year-old city kid with a hoity-toity name, and I stand by the entrance, dripping on the floor and waiting for that tea I was promised. It doesn’t seem to be coming. Briefly, I miss the palace.

“Da says yer in need of something hot to drink, is that right?”

Well. That worked out.

The girl who’s talking is buxom and sturdy, and barely up to my shoulder. She’s got wild red hair and green eyes, and while she’s not pretty in the way of most Tirion girls, she’s cute. I guess this is Mahtan’s daughter. Damn it, what did he say her name was? It started with an M, didn’t it? Or was it N?

She snaps her fingers. “Hullo, city boy. I’m talkin’ to ye here. Do ye want some tea or don’t ye?”

“Yes, tea would be excellent, thanks,” I say. Nerdanel! That’s her name. “You’re Nerdanel, right?”

“Aye. And you’re Ernil, I suppose.”

Ernil. Lords, it’s going to be hard for me to get used to answering to that.

“Yes, that would be me,” I say. “I’m very grateful to your family for letting me stay here.”

Nerdanel nods. “So why are ye in Fana’s Crossing, then? Sure this place isn’t much, especially for a fine fellow like yerself.”

“I…I’ve come to study smithcraft with your father,” I say. Lies, lies, and more lies. Fortunately, this last one isn’t entirely false, since I wouldn’t mind studying with Mahtan at all.

“He didn’t say anything about that,” Nerdanel says, frowning.

“Well, I didn’t want to impose so soon…you see, I haven’t asked him if I can yet.”

“Huh!” she snorts. “Ye’ve got yer work cut out for ye then. Da doesn’t like surprises. Ye’d better be pretty good at what ye do.” My mind is frequently in the gutter, and this last sentence does nothing to discourage it. I quickly pull it out and get back on topic.

“I’m pretty damn good for my age, thank you,” I reply. “And I’m perfectly capable of paying your father for teaching me. I’m quite serious about my work.”

“I suppose training’s a fine thing,” Nerdanel says thoughtfully. “Sure I never had any…”

“Nerdanel!” trills a woman’s voice. “Are ye going easy on our guest?” Mahtan’s wife—I assume that’s who it is, at least—sweeps into the room. She’s about a head taller and a good deal sleeker than Nerdanel, with golden-brown hair and grey eyes. Honestly, she could be one of Indis’ friends—except this woman actually seems friendly and normal.

“Yes, Mam. I’m getting him a cup of tea,” says Nerdanel, busying herself with the kettle once again. Her mother glances at me and looks horrified.

“Goodness, I don’t know what me husband was thinking, keeping ye out here in the cold hallway! Come in, child, sit by the fireplace. We’ll soon get ye warmed up, not to worry! Nerdanel, hurry with the tea, dear.”

“Yes, Mam,” Nerdanel says again—a trifle sulkily, I do believe. “Anything else ye’d like me to do? Wash his bloody feet, perhaps?”

Her mother laughs—she’s obviously used to this. “Nerdanel, dear, yer as funny as ever. Come and sit with yer mam and our guest once ye’ve gotten the tea! Have a nice chat with us.”

Nerdanel just rolls her eyes, nods, and sets about preparing the tea. Fine, I think, be that way. I guess it won’t be that hard for me to keep my hands off you after all.

I follow Nerdanel’s mother, who tells me her name is Harma, into their sitting room, where a fire is roaring. I sigh with pleasure and throw myself onto an armchair, stretching my legs out over the side. Ahh, that’s nice and warm…

“Ye look like ye could use a fire, lad,” says Harma kindly. “Sure it’s raining cats and dogs out there! And ye’ve ridden all the way from Tirion in this weather, Mahtan tells me.”

“Yes, it’s been a pretty long day,” I say.

“So why have ye come to our little town? A bit out of the way, isn’t it?”

Damn it, what was my explanation? Being in a warm room has completely sucked all intelligent thought out of my head.

“Ernil’s come to study smithcraft with Da,” says Nerdanel, entering with the tea and greatly improving my opinion of her. “That is, if Da says it’s okay. I told him not to expect too much, since ye know Da doesn’t like surprises, and…”

“And what’s me surprise, then?” says Mahtan, entering and sitting down next to his wife. “If the well’s broken again, I swear to Eru, yer just going to have to figure it out on yer own, because I don’t have time to be doin’ repairs all day.”

“Actually, sir, I don’t mean to intrude, but the surprise is that…well, the real reason I came to Fana’s Crossing was that I wanted to study smithcraft with you,” I say.

To lessen the awkwardness during the silence that follows, I take a large gulp of the tea, which is entirely too hot to be consumed yet and almost results in me spitting in onto the floor. Thankfully, I manage to swallow it.

“Yer right,” says Mahtan after a while. “That is a surprise.”

“I should have mentioned it earlier, but I didn’t want to impose,” I say. “I’ve got enough money to pay you, and I’m a good student, and…” I trail off nervously. This may be the first time I’ve actually been nervous in my entire life. For some reason I really, really want to stay here and study.

“So what yer sayin’ is,” says Mahtan, “that ye’ll pay more than yer already paying for boarding with us, just for the privilege of lookin’ over me shoulder while I work.”

“Well,” I say, surprised. “Yes. That’s basically it.”

“Hmm,” says Mahtan. “Either ye’ve got more money that ye know what to do with, or yer desperate to learn. Either way, I don’t see a reason to charge ye for something that probably won’t take up too much of me time. After all, we’re already lettin’ ye stay here, aren’t we? Tell ye what, help out with the chores a bit and don’t talk too much while I’m working and ye can do what ye like.”

Nerdanel shakes her head. “Yer a lucky man and I hope ye realize that, Ernil. I’m off to bed.”

I consider calling “I’ll be along in a minute, darling” as she leaves, but I doubt her parents would appreciate that. Instead, I finish my tea, allow Harma to show me to their spare room, and flop down on the bed.

Cheap lodging. Free training. All with a family that seems about three thousand times less awful than mine. And all I have to do is pretend to be someone else for a while.

Goodbye, Feanor. Hello, Ernil.

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For Love or Money by Lady MSM

I Lie Like a Rug