Legon Awakening: Book One in the Legon Series (7 page)

A smooth, warm voice greeted them. “Sasha, Legon, how
good to see you. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Arkin said,
stepping into the room.

He was tall and of a medium build, with long blond
hair and hazel eyes, a thin jaw line, and a small nose. He was
wearing a white shirt and brown pants, over which he had on a
leather apron with three pockets built into the waist. He walked
with a smooth gait and perfect posture. He was not what you would
envision a carpenter to be; he was refined and confident, qualities
that shined through not only in his countenance but also his work.
He was not an arrogant man, however. He was kind and fair, slow to
anger and had a balance of sternness and patience. Legon and Sasha
had always liked him and had gotten along with him well. There was
a smile on his face that revealed straight white teeth. 

“We were on our way to see Kovos when I realized that
it has been far too long since I’ve seen you,” Sasha said
brightly.

“Yes it has, and unfortunately you have caught me at
a bad time. I’ve been out hunting for the last few days and am
behind on work.”

“Did you get anything?” Legon asked.

“Ah … no, I didn’t but it was nice to get out,” Arkin
said. Legon detected a hint of apprehension in his voice.

Arkin said abruptly, “Will you come by later this
week and have tea with me? Then we could catch up.”

“We would love to,” said Sasha, and Legon piped in,
“Yeah we’ll catch you in a few days… see ya, Arkin”.

They walked out of the shop with a wave and continued
to Kovos’. After they had walked a bit Legon leaned over to
Sasha.

“Did something seem off to you with Arkin?” She
tilted her head slightly to the side.

“I don’t know. He did seem a bit preoccupied, and he
was a little vague about his hunting trip.”

“Yeah, and I’ve never known him not to bring a kill
in for us to butcher. That must mean he didn’t get anything, which
is odd for him.” As Legon spoke he looked at the ground and his
voice was soft, almost like he was talking to himself.

“Oh well. There’s Kovos,” Sasha pointed out.

They had arrived at their friend’s house. To the
right of it was a stone shop with smoke belching from a flue. They
both went up to the door of the shop and walked in. They were met
with a wall of heat. The one-room shop was large. Brack, Kovos’
father was by the wall on the right side of the building, standing
in front of a large furnace that curved up from the ground like a
teardrop. There was a long pipe that rose from the furnace to the
ceiling. The furnace was made of some sort of clay, but it was
impossible to distinguish from the black soot that covered it.
Brack was working a billow with one hand and holding a metal rod in
the other. The rod was deep in the fire; red was creeping up the
rod toward Brack’s glove. He was also wearing soot-black pants and
what had once been a white shirt with sleeves rolled up past his
elbows. As he worked the billows, sparks and flame roared out from
the opening of the furnace like some monster from a children’s
story.

Benches and anvils were scattered throughout the
room. It was lit only by the furnace’s glow which cast the room in
a sharp contrast of dark and bloody hues of red and orange. In the
center of the room was Kovos. Both he and his father were wearing
thick aprons made in the fashion of leather armor. They were
scorched and cut in places, signs of the hot iron’s angry touch.
Kovos was wearing a thick pair of gloves and pounding on a piece of
red-hot iron. Each time the hammer hit, sparks flew from it in
protest. Kovos and his father were amazing to watch. They brought
their hammers high in the air and then down with incredible force
and precision.

* * * * *

Sasha was having a hard time hearing over the roar of
the furnace. Legon had to shout over it. “Kovos! Kovos, pay
attention to me you great buffoon!”

At this Kovos looked up, made a rude hand gesture at
Legon, and continued to work. Legon and Sasha laughed. “Good to see
you too.”

Kovos nodded to them, telling them to wait a minute.
He raised the hammer high and brought it down with force on the
rod, showering the floor with sparks. Sasha noticed the muscles on
his bare arms ripple when the hammer reached its target. His stocky
build was made for this work. Kovos was wearing the same black
pants and blackened shirt as his father. He put down the hammer and
walked over to them with the rod still in his hands. “Let me give
this back to dad and we can go out back.” They nodded and walked to
the back of the shop.

It felt good to get out of the heat and into the
alleyway behind the shop. The spring air was cool and inviting. A
moment later Kovos came walking out with a large cleaver of the
type Legon had used the previous day to split a cow. He wasn’t
wearing the apron anymore and looked happy to be out of the shop.
He handed the cleaver to Legon, who began to inspect it. “Looks
good, Kovos. Thanks.” 

Kovos and his father were amazing smiths, or at least
they were in Legon’s opinion. He hadn’t seen much of the work of
other blacksmith’s since Salmont only needed one. Kovos was not as
good as his dad, but despite his insistence that he was not very
good, everyone in the town trusted him with any project. Kovos was
a hard worker and a perfectionist. He was also incredibly loyal.
Legon knew that Kovos would stand next to him no matter what. He
also knew that Kovos feared Sasha but would still defend her with
his life just because she was Legon’s sister. This was not a fact
lost on Sasha, and though she knew that Kovos, like most of the
town, feared her, she was grateful for him. He was nice to her, and
if she was on her own and saw Kovos, he would talk to her and
escort her wherever she was going. Barnin had been that way too.
Both Kovos and Barnin, while flawed men, had incredible
character.

“No problem. Thanks for killing and butchering that
deer for me. It was great.” He looked at Sasha. “Hey Sash, how are
you feeling today?”

“How… how did you know I had an episode?” she asked,
amazed.

“Easy. Legon didn’t come by yesterday, and he would
only miss out on a new cleaver if you weren’t well.”

“Oh. Thank you, Kovos. I’m feeling fine now.” As she
said this she looked at Legon and smiled inwardly. She was so
grateful to have him in her life, and she was sad to think about
him leaving.

Kovos looked at the buckskin tubes that Legon was
holding and frowned. “I don’t think dad will let me go shooting
today…,” he paused, “Unless….” Kovos shot back into the shop and
came out a minute later. “Great, I’ll get my bow. You talked me
into it.”

* * * * *

Legon laughed. There was no talking Kovos into it,
but rather talking his dad into letting him leave for a few hours.
Legon wondered how he did it, but when Kovos rejoined them he knew
how, and his heart sank a bit. Kovos brought with him a large boy
with the same black hair, though matted, who was wearing a pair of
blue pants and a stained green shirt. Keither.

Keither also had on a look of annoyance. The two
brothers couldn’t have been more different. Kovos was short and
stocky and Keither tall and rather large. Kovos was leading, or
more like pulling, Keither from the house. It looked like someone
trying to pull a dog away from chasing a deer or a small child from
his favorite toy. When they came out Kovos had two bows; one was
his combat bow and the other Keither’s hunting bow. Keither didn’t
have a combat bow. His family wouldn’t let him get one until he
could shoot his hunting bow with some degree of accuracy, which
Keither had yet to do. The boy hated going outside and didn’t like
to shoot, but it was important to learn, so whenever Kovos was
having a hard time leaving the house he would tell his father or
mother that he would bring Keither and try and work with him.
Keither never wanted to go, but Kovos was much stronger so Keither
didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.  Sasha attempted
to greet Keither by waving at him, but the boy only returned her
wave with a glare.

They walked down the alley and got back on the street
they were on before. They continued on the street until they got to
a large field at the edge of town. On one end of the field was a
line of padded targets with little flags that marked distance. Red
was for fifty yards, yellow for one hundred, green for one hundred
and twenty five, purple for one hundred and fifty, and beyond that
were black ones for two hundred yards. On the other side was a line
of white flags that marked where to stand while shooting. They
walked to the line of white flags. At the moment the four of them
were the only ones there. Everyone except Keither strung their bow
and prepared to begin. Kovos hit Keither in the arm and the boy
began to string his bow.

“Let’s just fire a warm up volley and then we can
move two of the targets further back,” said Kovos to the others.
They nodded their agreement and all knocked an arrow, pulled back,
took aim, and fired.

The air hissed with the sound of the flying arrows
and strings twanged. The arrows flew down the field and hit the
targets with a thump—all but Keither’s.

Sasha looked around. “Why didn’t you fire?”

“I did,” said Keither with a bit of irritation.

“You… oh I’m sor… sorry about that, Keither.” Sasha’s
face turned red. She looked away from him and began to fidget with
her bow.

Kovos broke in. “Well, where did it go, then?” he
asked, looking hard down the field.

“How am I supposed to know?” Keither said.

“Um, I don’t know, maybe because you shot it?” Kovos
said sarcastically, holding his arms out in front of him with his
palms up.

“Well, we’ve got lots of arrows, and I’m sure we can
find that one. It couldn’t have gotten far,” said Sasha, trying to
redeem herself. Then, in a hurry she continued, “Not that I’m
saying you can’t shoot far. I mean… um, well you know that you
probably only missed by an inch or so…” she sputtered.

Legon and Kovos laughed. “If we’re lucky we may find
it later. Come on, Legon, let’s move the targets,” Kovos said. They
walked to the targets and began to move them down the field. As
soon as they were out of earshot, Kovos said, “Sasha is going to
make a good wife, buddy. I’m happy for you, but it’s a little sick
you went for your sister….”

He was cut off by Legon. “What are you talking
about?” Then Kovos’ comment clicked in Legon’s mind. He reached out
and punched Kovos in the arm. “Shut up, that’s sick.”

“What, you mean you’re not? Oh, I’m sorry man, I just
thought with you two being so close and you being adopted…” Kovos
was smiling. Legon hit him again.

“Ow! What? Stop hitting me! I mean, she’s a
good-looking girl, and hey, beggars can’t be choosers. Ow!”

“You’re sick. I don’t know how your family is, but
I’m not into my sister. You’re right though, she is good looking,
but she would look better by your side.”

Kovos laughed. “Hey, I would, but I don’t want to be
looking over my shoulder for you my whole life.”

“Shut up and move the target.” 

They made it to the targets and began to move them
across the field. Kovos loved to give Legon a hard time about his
relationship with Sasha. He knew that they were close as brother
and sister, but that was it. Legon had to admit that they were
unusually close; he suspected that it had to do with their
situation growing up. They had supported each other, and at times
they were almost like one person instead of two. Emotionally, there
were no real boundaries between them. He knew that there was
something odd about the relationship though; he didn’t know of
anyone in town who needed to be with one particular person the way
that he felt he needed to be with Sasha. Or anyone who had a
strange sixth sense as they seemed to have with each other.
Sometimes it almost seemed like he could predict what she would say
or do. But never once had he had an inappropriate thought about
her, and he knew it was the same for her.

His attention came back to Kovos, who was walking
next to him hefting his own target. Kovos was still smiling but his
voice was serious now. “Honestly, I think you’re going to need to
take her with you. There’s no way you’ll be able to make the money
for the taxes and get it here in time.” Legon began to open his
mouth but Kovos cut him off. “It can’t be done, and don’t tell me
otherwise. Take her with you. You can live in the same house and
fall under the two adults rule for taxes. There’s a lot of people
that do it.” His face darkened. “And I also don’t think she will be
safe here when you’re gone. People worry about Edis but they’re
terrified of you, and…”

Legon interrupted. “I know. I have a lot to think
about, but not today. Let’s just shoot, ok?”

Kovos nodded.

* * * * *

Standing next to Keither, Sasha watched them go. She
looked over at the boy who was slouching and didn’t at all look
like he wanted to be there.

“So Keither… how are you doing?” she asked
tentatively.

“Meh,” said Keither in a grunt.

Sasha was having a hard time thinking of what to say.
She always had problems with Keither. He was a quiet boy and a bit
socially awkward, or extremely socially awkward if she was being
honest. He sighed hard and looked down the field at his brother and
Legon, who were carrying their targets to the purple flags. He
obviously hated being dragged along like this.

“So, have you decided on a trade to pursue yet, or
are you still thinking about it?” asked Sasha.

“Ahh, I don’t know, I haven’t thought much about it.
I think I’m going to go find my arrow before they get back.” And
with that Keither walked off to find his arrow.

Sasha stood alone and looking a bit irritated. “
He
has no manners! What will become of that boy?”
she thought to
herself. Legon and Kovos had finished moving the targets and were
walking back to her now. She could see Kovos throwing his arms in
the air at Keither, and she could also see that he was yelling
something at him but couldn’t hear it. Soon they were all back
together and Kovos was scolding Keither.