The Rapier Brothers

Sweat streamed down his forehead and irritably Dagger wiped it away on his already damp and grimy sleeve. He gave the sword he was working on another look, then went back to pounding.

Another hard hour of labor later and he set the blade aside, then took care of his tools. Striding to the bucket in the corner of the smithy, he took several deep swallows and then dumped the rest of the water over his head.

It was hot. Summer at its peak and being stuck inside the smithy was not his preferred method of dealing with the heat.

Untying his hair, he raked it back into some semblance of order and retied the thong. Thick and black, it only added to his misery. He really should cut it, and accept his lot, but gentlemen wore their hair long…

Sighing, determined not to ruin his day further by dwelling on the stupid facts of his sorry life, Dagger looked over the work waiting for him and pondered what to do next.

He didn’t want to do any of it, not really, but he would. Maybe some of the tools next, so he could finish his day working on the swords. Nodding, decided, he headed back into the work area of the shop—

Only to be stopped by a cacophony of shouting and cheering, the sharp tolling of the bells in the village square. A duel already? It was only midmorning. Rolling his eyes, suspecting he knew exactly who he would see in the dueling circle, Dagger snatched up a cleaning cloth and scrubbed at his hands and face as best he could as he walked down the street to the village square.

Sure enough.

Epee stood in the far right corner, the morning sunlight bringing out the threads of red in brown hair. Opposite him was Lord Sharp. Dagger rolled his eyes again. Honestly, these two never seemed to tire of trying to kill each other.

He narrowed his eyes as they fought, shaking his head slightly at Epee’s slipping defense—but Lord Sharp was too hasty, as always. Their fights were becoming predictable. He would have to tell Epee so.

The bruise just below his left eye throbbed, a reminder of the last time he’d voiced such an opinion within range of his stepfather’s hearing, and Dagger made a mental note to tell Epee about his slipping defense before they returned to the house.

Yesterday Lord Sharp had won. Today, Epee took it. Dagger clapped for his stepbrother, smiling faintly when Epee finally noticed him. Before he could motion Epee forward, to speak about his defense, his stepbrother was called away by another.

Oh, it was his stranger—Tan, he’d always called himself. Dagger knew nothing about him, save he was a noble and knew how to use the sword slung so casually at his left hip. Very fine hips, those, on a very fine body. Light brown hair, just long enough to barely be fashionable. Handsome features; if not for the smile he’d be rather stern looking. Simple, elegant clothes.

He conversed avidly with Epee, who clapped the man on his shoulder and motioned. Dagger blinked. Epee knew the man? Surely not…but they conversed lightly, easily. He watched, frowning now, as Epee motioned to the board where notices and all were hung. The frown deepened as Tan tore away a notice Dagger didn’t recognize, though he’d looked at the board just this morning. Epee snatched it back, holding it laughingly out of reach, and Dagger could see he was taunting Tan. Where they friends? How had he never known Tan and Epee knew each other?

But why should he have known, Dagger acknowledged bitterly. He hardly moved in the same circles. He grimaced at himself and looked back at the two men—and realized they were walking toward him. Dagger suddenly felt every last bit of grime plastered to his body with sweat. His clothes were damp beneath the hot weight of his work apron; he looked nothing like Epee in his careless prettiness or Tan’s simple elegance.

Well, of course he didn’t. Dagger scowled at himself. He wasn’t them, of course he didn’t look like them. He’d been reduced to peasant status since his mother’s death, when her will had left every last thing to her husband ‘in good faith he would take excellent care of his stepson.’

He loved his mother, but she’d always been an idiot.

“Dagger,” Epee greeted. “I could see from the look on your face that I was doing something wrong.” He motioned before Dagger could speak. “Reprimand me later. I believe for now you have a customer.”

Sketching a bow, Dagger quietly recited all the niceties and accepted the sword the stranger held out. “Greetings, my lord. I see you’ve been putting it quite thoroughly to use. When would you be wanting it back?”

“The sooner the better, of course,” the stranger said with an easy smile. “However, there is no special rush.”

Dagger nodded. “I can probably have it finished by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Excellent. Thank you. It is always worth it to come out here to have my sword tended.”

Dagger looked at his stepbrother, who had looked as though he were struggling not to laugh the entire conversation. Suppressing an urge to roll his eyes again, Dagger ignored his stepbrother and returned his attention to Tan, drinking in the sight of his hopeless crush to have new images with which to torture himself.

“Thank you,” Tan said. “It’s truly most appreciated. This should cover it, I think.” He pressed a small bag of coins into Dagger’s free hand, then clapped Epee on the shoulder and bid him farewell before turning and vanishing into the crowd.

Epee burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Dagger asked.

“You—how long has he been bringing his sword to you, Dagger?”

Dagger shrugged. “At least as long as I’ve been working the smithy, I guess.” Like he’d admit he knew exactly, to the day, how long Tan had been coming. Epee obviously had enough to be amused about.

Epee slowly got his laughter under control. “Never mind. Take a look at this.”

Frowning, thoroughly vexed with his confounding stepbrother, Dagger nevertheless accepted the notice he held out. His eyes widened as he read it. “A tournament? Really?” His breath caught as he read the prize. Oh, he wished… Dagger shoved the frivolous thought aside. He was a peasant. Entering the tournament was impossible; dwelling on the idea for even a moment was stupid. “Are you planning on entering?”

“Of course I am,” Epee said dismissively. “Why were you glaring at me after the duel?”

“Because your defense is abhorrent,” Dagger retorted. “You’re getting lazy and sloppy; it’s little wonder to me that Sharp took you so easily yesterday.”

Epee grinned; it was more a baring of teeth. “I’m sure he’d like to take me, the bastard, but father will give his estate over to you before that happens.”

“You’re an idiot,” Dagger replied. “Go provoke Sabre; fighting him will force you to improve your defense. I have to get back to work.”

“As you command. Father went to speak with his solicitor today, so if I were you I’d sleep in the smithy. Ta ta, little brother.” Waving absently, Epee turned and began to walk back home.

Heaving a sigh, Dagger made his way back to the smithy.

“Was beginning to think you ran away, lad.” The man who spoke was as rough and weathered as the smithy itself, as messy as Dagger. He was just past fifty but didn’t act like it; Dagger had seen him throw around more than one man like a sack of feathers when tavern brawls got out of hand.

Dagger snorted. “Where would I go?” He carried Tan’s sword to the front counter and logged the new job in the ledger. “I went to see a duel. Epee and Sharp again, naturally. They should just kill each other and get it over with.”

“Something like that,” Hammer said, joining him at the counter. Though he could still toss men like they were nothing, the same didn’t go for horses. Helping a farmer shoe his horse the other day, Hammer had taken a nasty blow to his arm when a child managed to spook the horse in question.

Which meant all the work fell to Dagger—not that he really minded, in the end. Anything was better than going home. “Do you mind if I sleep here tonight, Hammer?”

“Rapier on a tirade again?” Hammer asked, tone idle rather than pitying or sympathetic, something Dagger deeply appreciated.

Dagger shrugged. “Epee’s suggestion.”

“You should just leave for good, lad,” Hammer said. “Certainly you’re welcome here, always. Hell, you run the shop more than me these days, even before that nag tried to finish me off.”

“I know,” Dagger said quietly. He should. He probably could. His stepfather and Sabre wouldn’t miss him. Epee always knew where to find him. But—it was his house damn it. He wasn’t going to let the bastard drive him entirely out of it.

Hammer eyed the sword on the counter. “Encountered Tan, did you?”

Dagger nodded. “Yes. After the duel. He gave me the sword and asked us to touch it up.” He grimaced, recalling how friendly Epee had been with Tan. Just once, he wished he could be that easy and familiar. But wishes were a waste of time, and Tan was completely out of reach.

“You could stop mooning and do something about it, lad,” Hammer said, looking at him in exasperation and amusement.

“Oh, yes. That would go over well. Look at me, Hammer. That any noble would take my interest seriously is laughable.” He stomped away to put Tan’s sword with the others.

Hammer shook his head. “You don’t know until you try, lad. But suit yourself. Get on with your work so you can have this ready when he comes to retrieve it.”

“Yes, Master,” Dagger said, and threw himself into his work, determined to drive out all other thoughts.