The Story.
Chapter two: the first ten years.
"Jamesley, be a good un' and go and get some water from the well!" Shouted Hughas Vin, father of Jamesley Vin. Jamesley shouted back, "Yes, pa'!" And ran off, towards the well that the farm had. It was a bright day, Hughas and Jamesley had spent the whole day in the blazing son doing farm work. Whilst Lucy had gone to work in Bree. Jamesley was Ten years old in a day’s time, he was looking forward to it, as it was a mark of his first ten years of living. His past life had been great, he had been raised to help tend to the farm in any way possible, thus strengthening him to be a strong lad due to the incredible amount of farming and work he did. In his spare time where he had the pleasure of not doing farm-work, he was taught how to read and write by his mother, Lucy. Who knew much due to being raised in a semi-wealthy family. At the age of seven, Jamesley had first seen a sword, but not held it, he was told the tale of the Dwarf-smith by his father, a tale that Jamesley very much enjoyed, and much other tales. Jamesley had been raised quite well, at the age of nine, almost ten, he could already read and write better than some other people. Some say he was 'intelligent' but compared to the wisdom and knowledge of other scholars and people, he was by far, much, much lesser.
Jamesley returned with a fresh bucket of water. He smiled at his Dad, Hughas, and gave him the bucket-full of water.
"Father.. for my birthday.. can I have a-a.. sword?" Jamesley asked, whilst his Father was tending to the crops with the water. Hughas turned, and looked at Jamesley, smiling, he said. "You will have to wait and see, my son." Jamesley nodded, knowing that he could not moan or ask again, and went away to get some more water from the well.
Hughas walked inside, smiling to himself. Georgia was there. Georgia was Lucy's midwife in the time when Lucy was pregnant, and is now like a baby-sitter for Jamesley. She was clad in an bright orange dress, for her age she was very good looking. She was reading a book named "Herbs and where to find them." Hughas looked at Georgia, smiling to himself, it was indeed a good day. Better than the past, which oft' Hughas thought back to. It had been a strange past. Hughas' raising of Jamesley had been hard. After the birth, Lucy had fell ill for a long time, only two winters ago had she recovered from the illness, in those long years, Lucy saw little of Jamesley, and Georgia was much more of a mother to Jamesley than Lucy in that time.
"Georgia, a sword for Jamesley? What would you think if I did get him a sword? Would you think me foolish... I do not know, I want to get him a sword, but then people may think less of me, and I would not want that to happen again." Hughas said to Georgia, looking down at her as she was reading her book. Georgia looked up, smiling at Hughas, and said, "He is your son, Hughas, it is up to you what you do and do not do for him, do not rely on my opinion, sooner or later I will leave Jamesley when he is older, and go on to look after another family, it is up to you to make your own decisions now, for you cannot rely on my decision for the rest of your own and Jamesley's life." Hughas nodded, smiling to himself, he had made the decision, "I will get him a short-sword, he is responsible enough to be able to wield one, and I shall start teaching him what I know about swordsmanship."
So Hughas walked out of the Farm, and into Bree-town. It was a bright, beautiful sunny afternoon. The people of Bree were outside, enjoying the sun for they did not oft' get it much. The town had a pleasant feeling, the air was cool, and the streets were clean. Hughas came to the local blacksmith's workshop. It was in the very corner of Bree, a small, shabby hut, with steam raising out of the chimney, it was hardly a pleasant home. More a shed for work and labour. Hughas walked into the workshop reluctantly.
"Hail, Eoghan, it is good to see you." Hughas said, looking around workshop's mess, there was swords, daggers, and other forms of weaponry inside, and a huge forge, with a chimney leading down to the forge, for the steam to rise up. It was very dark, only a small glimmer of light lighting the room. Eoghan turned, his dirty face looking at Hughas'. Much was said about Eoghan, some said he was a good smith, some said that he did not do what everybody thought what he did, clearly he did, as the workshop was a mess and it looked like Eoghan had crafted many swords in his life-time, due to his hardened face, and by the look of the dirty, encumbered, workshop.
"Ah! Hughas, what do I owe this pleasure?" Eoghan said. Staring Hughas in the eye. Hughas stared back, and smiled, saying, "You owe nothing, Eoghan. But only that you must tidy your workshop if you would want perhaps more visitors." Eoghan looked around his workshop, and nodded, "Aye, I do need to tidy, but then, the people who do not come to my workshop suffer, for without my blades, wherever else they get some, save the elven-lands, and perhaps the Gondorian ones, they suffer without the expertise of me' quality blades, I presume, master Vin, that you have come here for a blade, and not just to keep me company, for I do not need it." Hughas stared at Eoghan strangely, and then nodded, saying, "I do need a blade, aye. But not for myself, for my son-" Hughas was going to finish, but Eoghan finished off for him, "Jamesley? Ah! I shall have a sword crafted for him by tomorrow, come by, and he shall have a quality blade for his age." Hughas nodded, but then said, "And what about size? You do not know how tall he is, or anything else that you may need to craft him a good sword." Hughas raised a brow, looking at Eoghan, Eoghan smiled, and beckoned his hand for Hughas to get out.
Meanwhile, Jamesley was back at home, his Mother teaching him more about words and letters, Jamesley was bored, but nonetheless he listened, for he knew that it was a gift to be taught how to read and write, especially in Bree-land. Jamesley was being told about the words and letters involved in his favourite tale of the Dwarf-Smith, so therefore Jamesley listened, intent on learning more about the favoured tale, and more about the writer. But even because of this, Jamesley was bored.
"Mother, tell me of the dwarf, is he real? Did he really kill himself in the end? What a sad, ending." Asked Jamesley, in his child-like voice. Jamesley did have a child-like voice, and he may have been mistaken for a rich old boy. "The dwarf? Oh, yes, e' his real, trust me on that, Jamesley.." His mother, however, spoke with a strong, families son, though his voice was that of a Rohirric child. Jamesley had dark brown, muffled hair, he was tall in size, for his age. He would be called skinny by other children, though he was not as skinny as other people, some would say that he was 'average' for a nine or ten year old child.
“Mother, it is getting dark- Look outside, there are people arriving!” Jamesley said, looking in the distance at the horses and men, there was at least about twenty or thirty men coming towards the town, each on horses. Jamesley ran outside, Lucy and Georgia following him. “Look!” Exclaimed Jamesley. Georgia and Lucy looked, a man came up to them and said, “Hail, we are travel-worn and ruined, where is the best place in Bree to get shelter and warmth?” Asked the man, Lucy replied with, “The Prancing Pony, but tell me, who are you?” The man on the horse looked down at the trio, and said, “We are soon to be your protectors and the Guard, but our past is irrelevant to you, thank-you for your aid, I am sure Garriot will be happy that you have told us what I asked of you.” And so he rode off into the distance, back towards the squadron.
“Mother, who were they?” Asked Jamesley, shocked in awe at the armour and the weapons that the men carried. Lucy looked down at Jamesley and placed a hand on his shoulder, and said, “Come on, darling, we best get you to sleep, a big day for you tomorrow, your birthday!” And Lucy led Jamesley back inside, into the house, Georgia soon followed. Lucy got Jamesley to sleep, whilst Jamesley was asking questions such as, “Who were they?” “What are they doing here?” And many more, but eventually, Lucy got him to sleep.
Only moments after Jamesley fell to sleep, did Hughas walk into the house, saying, “I have decided to get him a sword, Lucy. I hope that you agree with my decision, whether you do or not, a sword he shall have.” Lucy looked at him, and nodded, then told Hughas of the ‘Guards’ and the men.
“Ah, yes, Mayor Tenderlarch has been expecting them for some time now. Nobody knows where they have come from, I’ve just seen them walk into Bree just now, they don’t look like much, but then, I think we’ll accept whatever, the amount of Brigands are rising, and that’s not our only problem.” Said Hughas. He sighed softly and said that he must sleep, so Hughas went to bed. Whilst both Lucy and Georgia were alone, Lucy said to Georgia, “I have a gift for you, here, take it, and do not refuse it, for if you do, then I shall kick you out of my home, and I will not let you in again!” She said, offering a fine necklace to Georgia. Georgia looked at it, and replied with, “Thank-you... I shall treasure it, but, why?” Lucy smiled and said, “For being a better Mother than myself for Jamesley, though now I am well, I shall be his Mother, though you play an important role for him, it would be shameful of me to not let you have a part of his life anymore.” And with that, Lucy smiled, and followed Hughas in to bed. Georgia exited the house, and went her own way towards home.
The next day, Hughas woke up bright and early, and went into town to retrieve the sword specially made for Jamesley. Hughas arrived at the work-shop, but found nobody inside, just a note saying:
“I am busy, today, master Vin, the sword can be found in the cupboard to your left, it is a fine make, and though it needs sharpening, keep it blunt, for a child should not have a sharp sword.”
Hughas walked over to the cupboard, opening it, he saw a fine iron short-sword, indeed it was blunt, but it looked well enough, it was shiny, though not as shiny as some swords. Hughas retrieved the sword, and wrapped it in part of his cloak, then made his way back towards the home. On the way, many people gave him good tidings, though one person, who Hughas had encountered in the past, said to him, “Do not remember what I said about your child, Hughas, I hope that he has an ill future! And I hope that you do too, Hughas.” Hughas turned around and swore at him, saying, “Shut it, foul-mouth, may you rot in the corners and the alley-ways of Bree!” And with that Hughas walked away.
When Hughas got home, he was careful not to wake up the others, he put the sword in a sheath that had been Hughas’ in the past. Hughas also had a tough bear-hide for Jamesley, for him to make his own battle-belt. After an hour, Hughas woke Jamesley, and took him into the main room, and presented his gifts to Jamesley.
“Pa’.. thank you!” Exclaimed Jamesley, he ran towards Hughas and hugged him, then looked at his sword in awe. He started playing around with it, but then Hughas said, “Jamesley, a sword is no toy, it is a tool, you should never see pleasure in wielding and using a sword, it is used to defend yourself, please, do not put it to evil purpose.” Jamesley looked up at his Father, and nodded, understanding his words.
Throughout the day Jamesley was given few gifts, a flower of Georgia, that was fine crimson and the stem was fine green. From Lucy was a written up story by Lucy of the tale of the dwarf-smith. Jamesley thanked each of them for their gifts. At lunch they ate a fine chicken roast and gravy, with herbs that was found by Georgia.
At the end of the day, Hughas told Jamesley that he must make a leather battle-belt, and so Jamesley set himself to do, following the instructions of his Father, by almost midnight, the belt was done, it was a fine, strong, black belt, it could hold a sword and a dagger, and other essentials, Jamesley looked down at the belt, and said, “It is too big for me, Father..” Hughas nodded and said, “It is for you in the future, not now. Now then, it is late, you should go to bed!” So Jamesley went to bed, happy of what the day had brought.
