GENESIS - THE BEGINNING. Book 1

CHAPTER 14 ... The Metal Worker

The next morning, not knowing where to go for breakfast, they milled about outside their rooms until all were present. Walking down the carpeted passageway, they came upon a thin wooden frame above a doorway saying, 'Breakfast nook' with an arrow pointing upwards.

Of them all only Adelia looked upwards at the ceiling and frowned. Before she could say anything, Katya laughed softly and whispered to her that she was an idiot. Trouping through the open doorway, they encountered five waiters and the portly, apron-wearing owner rushing about the fifteen empty tables and placing cutlery. To one side were two tables pushed together. A white tablecloth with pink and blue floral prints around the edges covered both tables. Five sturdy wooden chairs were spaced around them and they automatically maneuvered in that direction.

"Good morning. Good morning. Please forgive me," said the man. "It is still early and our customers usually come in at about six. But no matter..." he said quickly, as he saw their disappointed looks. "We were prepared, for we surmised you-all would probably be up and about before the others. Sit. Sit." He gushed and waddled forward ushering them to their table. "We have a small menu..." he clapped his hands and a waiter stepped forward and handed out menus. "Just call James here when you are ready to order." He beamed proudly at them, turned away and giving the other waiters instructions.

Forty-five minutes later, as the friends finished off their breakfast, the first of the motel residents stumbled in. Without looking left or right, the man made his way to the closest table, scratched his hairy chest and looked up at the waiter that stood at his side.

"Ok people," Wyatt said, moving back from the table. Breakfast was fast becoming something of the past. "What now? Should we go to the Metal Worker or..."

"Please excuse me, sir and ladies." Although it was morning, the owner perspired to such a degree that he continuously mopped his baldhead and neck with a sodden handkerchief. He smiled broadly. "Mr. Wykstra, the blacksmith, has delivered your weapons and is waiting for you in this gentlemen's room." He motioned towards Wyatt, "As you were still busy with your breakfast, I took the liberty to send him there as I believe we should be circumspect for ..." he stared in surprise as spoons clattered onto plates and slid to the table. Chairs scraped harshly back and a small stampede occurred for the door.

The friends gathered silently in Wyatt's room. All eyes darting from the emaciated blacksmith to the unstrung bows and shields lying on the unmade bed. The room was small and overcrowded.

"Great Lord," Wyatt and Tobor bowed deeply and the rest hesitantly followed suit.

The blacksmith was bare chested, wearing only sandals and old, frayed, leather breeches. His gaunt appearance notwithstanding, the sunken eyes held their attention and passed over one face after the other. Assessed. Evaluated and judged.

With bony arms folded across his fleshless bony chest, he nodded at Wyatt. "Choose your tools. There are three bows and four shields. You receive my blessing Sigil Wyatt Earp. Send my regards to your mother. Take care how you treat those around you. Listen before you judge. Think before you act and always be prepared to accept your own mistakes. We will see each other at the birth of your son." He turned to Megan who blushed, "You will make or break your husband. It lies in your hands. Acknowledge his weakness and strengths. Guide him. Be the wall that will supply shade. Be the well that will slake his thirst. For when you fail, so will he. The choice is yours. You have strength and compassion, use them to your peoples benefit and you will be much loved."

The silence was profound.

No one dared breathe loudly.

They watched the old blacksmith as his eyes settled on Tobor who unconsciously straightened and licked her dry lips. "You, warrior maiden, will be fruitful. Many children will come from your womb. You will establish your own clan and it will become a force to be reckoned with throughout the Empire for it shall protect the Emperor herself.

"Always remember that honor above all else, is your strength, your guiding light. You will redeem yourself in battle and this alone will prove to all that honor can be redeemed." He turned to Adelia who stood behind everybody else, casting sidelong glances at the closed door and wondering if she could somehow slip out without anybody noticing her absence. "Your hate has carried you this far. It will not carry you much farther. Your anger, your lust for revenge has destroyed you. But fear not, you have been noticed and reprieve will come in death." As the blacksmith turned to Katya, Adelia pushed Megan and Katya aside.

"A question old man," she said.

"There is no need woman. You will die the death you seek. Many will surround you and come up against you...they will perish. You will slake your thirst and glut your soul. But beware the pommel, therein lies your death."

Adelia stepped back with a grim smile on her face, he turned to a concerned Katya staring sorrowfully at her friend. "I noticed you have a good bow. I believe a master made it and it is not my place to interfere with another's work. The fact that you take good care of your weapons also tells me you know their worth and how to use them.

" Use them well for worlds and nations. The gods, shall rise up against you. Three enemies will become your friends and a god will watch all that you do. For in you lies the seed of the future. In you lies the destruction of all. In the span of your long life, many will die and you will be feared, hated and cursed. Indecision, the fear to act, will destroy you. Trust none. Make your own counsel. Should you die all is lost. And beware...the black horse for it will either be your undoing or it will become your most prized possession."

He stared at the silent group . "Training will see you through the dark days ahead. One and all, you will leave your mark no matter how small. Sigal, walk with me." The group shuffled out of the way as the two men left the room. Almost immediately questions were whispered, answers sought. The two men reached the forge, shimmering in the heat. "Wait here," the blacksmith said. The old man disappeared into the forge and returned shortly with Wyatt's sword. "I have refashioned the new blade out of Grayvite steel. It is stronger than my first attempt, will not chip or ever need sharpening. This is the strongest blade in the realm and only Grayvite steel itself will stop it. Guard it with your life and before you return to Hades, you must present it to the one who shall be Emperor. Her life depends on it."

"The one who shall be Emperor? Not the Emperor? How Lord, shall I know who she will be?"

"You will know. Even now, you know. Go, Sigal Wyatt Earp. Destiny awaits you all."

Wyatt bowed deeply. "Lord..." when he straightened, the blacksmith had turned and walked away.