“Yes, master.” Yuri sighed.
Theros pretended he didn’t hear. He was training Yuri as an apprentice the same way Theros himself had been trained by the minotaurs. If that way was a bit harsh, it was the only way Theros knew and, he assumed, as good as any. Yuri lacked discipline in his life. And if Theros had to treat Yuri like a slave in order to instill discipline, Yuri would be the one to gain in the long run. At least, that was Theros’s view.
Yuri finished the gauntlet, began working on a small leather jerkin, putting metal strips inside the jacket to conceal the armor. The jerkin was bright green and decorated with painted designs across the front and back.
Theros, spotting it, glared at the boy. “Isn’t that jerkin done yet?”
Yuri looked up, flushed. “No, sir. I’ll be done within the hour. The kender will not be back until late this afternoon, so I have time to finish it.”
“You be sure that you do. I don’t want that damned kender wandering around my shop, ‘borrowing’ my tools and weapons. When you’re done, wait for him outside and give it to him there. Don’t let him in the door! And make certain you get good money for that, too.”
It had been a week since the kender had shown up in the shop. Usually Theros was quick to throw them out, but this time he’d been busy engraving a blade and hadn’t been able to leave his work. Yuri had foolishly allowed the kender inside and, once there, they couldn’t seem to get rid of him. He had wandered around, picking up this, looking at that, chattering all the time about his father-Trapspringer or something was the name.
Finally Theros was able to stop his work long enough to collar the kender, catching the little fellow just as he slipped a pair of steel tongs into one of his pouches. Theros grabbed the kender by the lapels and began to shake, trying to loosen his tongs and whatever else that may have dropped into the pouches and pockets. He turned the kender upside down, shook him by his ankles. All the while, the kender screeched and tried to whack Theros across the legs with his hoopak. A mountain of objects cascaded down onto the floor. Theros’s anger at the small being was replaced by wonder.
Theros was sure there was even more in the kender’s possession, but the pile was nearly a foot and a half high-nearly a hundred items lay there-when he set the kender down.
The kender was offended. “Never before in the history of the Trapspringers has such an injustice been performed!” The little fellow jumped about, trying to retrieve his precious possessions. All attempts were blocked by the huge smith.
“Yuri,” Theros ordered, “sort through that stuff and take out everything that is mine.”
Yuri sifted through the items, discovering the pair of tongs, a leather needle, a small dagger and leather thongs. He set these aside. The remaining items were a marvel. There were, among other things, maps of all shapes and descriptions, jewels, a purse of gold, an apple pastry that looked as if it had been through the Cataclysm, tiny mechanical items that neither Yuri nor Theros could fathom, a book of dwarven recipes, several buttons from a fancy tunic, a pair of wrist restraints, a silver goblet with Solamnic heraldry on it, and a small bag of glass beads.
Yuri looked over a knife, handed it to Theros. “I don’t think it’s one of yours, sir.”
Theros studied the weapon. Sure enough, the design was good, but not one of Theros’s. He tossed it back into the pile.
“That’s for slaying rabbits!” Trapspringer proudly announced. “It was given to me by my Aunt Slipjail! That’s what I came to talk to you about.”
From still another pocket, one Theros had missed, the kender pulled out a purse. “Look, I have money. I want you to make me something.”
Theros eyed the purse. “That’s a woman’s purse. How much gold is in there?”
Yuri picked it up and counted the coins. His eye caught something else in the pile, and he pulled out another purse. This, too, had gold in it. “He must have stolen it.”
The kender was outraged. “Steal? Steal! How dare you! That’s a present from some ladies I met in Palanthas. Or was it Solace?”
Yuri counted the money in the second purse. “All told, he’s got ninety-one gold pieces!”
Theros shook his head. He turned back to the kender. “What do you want us to make for you? A knife? A small sword?”
The kender’s eyes brightened. “I already have a knife. And I don’t think I’d be much good at using a sword. What do you have to offer?”
Theros thought for a moment. During the scuffle, he had ripped the kender’s jerkin. “How about a brand-new jerkin?”
The kender hopped up and down. “Will it have lots of pockets? Could you make it in bright colors? Will it have a fancy fastener in the front? Could I hide things up the sleeve?”
“Yuri will make you a colorful leather jerkin with lots of pockets. He will put steel strips inside to armor it against small blades, and line it so that it is warm in the winter. It will cost the same amount of gold that you have in those purses. Is it a deal?”
Trapspringer’s topknot had swung back and forth as he nodded vigorously. Theros had ordered the kender to return in a week and Yuri had begun work immediately.
The week was up. The jerkin was nearly finished. Yuri was inserting the last of the metal strips, fastening them to the material, then covering them. From the outside, there was no indication that the coat was anything special. There were, however, thirty-one different pockets and pouches built into the lining and sleeves of the piece. Yuri was pleased with his work. He had designed it himself.
Theros thought it was fine work, but he never said so. Discipline must be maintained.
Yuri was, as usual, prattling. “I think I’d make a good kender, you know, sir! Wouldn’t it be a fun life? Always traveling about, meeting interesting people.”
Theros grunted. He was in no mood for banter. He was never in the mood. Life was harsh and hard and the sooner young people like Yuri learned that lesson, the better.
“Hurry up and finish. I don’t want that kender back in this shop.”
Yuri finished within the hour and took the jerkin outside. He waited for only a few moments before Trapspringer came dashing up the street.
Theros, interested in spite of himself, kept watch through the window. The kender flung his arms around Yuri in a friendly hug. Yuri was probably thankful he’d been careful to empty his pockets before coming out.
“Is it done? Is it done? What’s it look like?” Trapspringer hopped up and down with excitement.
Yuri held up the finished jerkin. The kender was ecstatic. He actually kept quiet with joy for about three seconds.
He tried the jacket on. It fit well. The three brass fasteners were actually crate fasteners, but the kender didn’t know that and they held the coat together. He explored every pocket and seam. Finally, the kender took off the jacket and inspected the exterior. The back and front had been painted with clothing dyes of different colors, which effectively concealed several of the hidden pockets. The seams were all but invisible. Theros thought the color combination was truly hideous, but it appeared to be perfect for Trapspringer.
“So, it is to your liking?” Yuri asked.
“And you say this has armor built right in, do you?” Trapspringer was too excited to answer. “Well, fascinating! Now, I am fully prepared to give you this rather nifty purse-”
“Two purses,” Yuri reminded him. “There were two of them.”
“Um, well, I don’t have both purses anymore. I have just the one.” The kender rummaged through one of his pouches and came up with one of the purses. The gold was still in it, but where was the second purse?
“What do you intend to give in place of the second purse? After all, we did have a deal. It is a matter of honor.” Yuri lowered his voice to try to sound like Theros, much to Theros’s secret amusement.
The kender looked puzzled for a moment, then began rooting through the pouches again. He came up with a dog’s skull. “These are the bones of an ancient dragon from way back in antiquity. You could have it, I suppose, but-”