Free Daygo's Fury by John F. O' Sullivan Page A

nose when walking through the slums. It made him both dislike them and wonder about the places they came from.
    Liam looked over the street and saw Carrick and his two cronies take position, trying to appear idle as they waited. He looked to Calum and they shared a moment of determination. It was time to focus on the task at hand.
    He felt grim as they walked towards the entrance to the smithy.
    The smithy was a solid-looking building made completely of stone. Huge wooden doors at the front opened wide, tall enough to let in a horse and wide enough for a wagon. The doors gave the building a very open feel, at odds to what Liam was used to in the slums. It made him uneasy.
    Inside was a disorganised mess.
    A large, rough-looking wooden table stood on the right-hand side of the room. It was made of thick chunks of wood, practical as opposed to aesthetically pleasing. The table top bore many scars from use over the years, and a large array of tools hung from metal pegs hammered into the wall above it. There must have been a dozen hammers of different shapes and sizes, tongs, metal tools that were similar in appearance to chisels and more that Liam didn’t recognise.
    The floor was littered with old horse-shoes, nails, pieces of discarded metal and large metal anvils.
    A large furnace built from stone stood against the far wall, longer than a man lying flat on the floor. At shoulder height the stonework curved upwards in an arc, meeting from both sides to form a chimney that extended up into the ceiling above. A charcoal fire burned on the stone and metal grill in the centre of the furnace. Off to the left side was a huge wood and leather bellows, propped up on wooden supports, connected to a leather pipe that ran into a hole in the stonework of the furnace and disappeared.
    The smith himself stood in front of the forge, shovelling charcoal into the fire from a pile on the floor. A boy a little older than Liam was working the bellows, pumping air up under the fire, driving the flames up in great bursts. His face glistened with sweat as he worked. He showed the beginnings of a muscular bearing from all the hard work. He must have been the smith’s apprentice.
    Calum and Liam stepped through the doorway and were hit by a blast of heat. Liam immediately saw their target. He breathed in deeply, not knowing whether to be relieved or deflated. There was a gold plated ornamental shield hanging up on the wall to the right of the furnace. It easily looked valuable enough to have the smith chasing their tails. Now, at least, the objective was clear. They just had to swipe the shield and get out of the room with it.
    The smith looked up as they walked in. Instantly, his eyes narrowed and he stood up, leaning on the shovel. He was a huge man, wide of shoulder with a barrel chest. He wore a leather jerkin with nothing but his hairy chest underneath. His legs seemed too small for his body.
    “What do you fellas want?” he asked. The bellows the apprentice stood beside was at the left of the forge, the smith was directly in front of it and the shield was hanging up on the right of it. It would only take the smith two quick strides to get across to the shield. Liam glanced across at Calum, not needing to speak to him to know he was considering the same things. They would have to pull the smith away from the furnace and towards the front of the room so that one of the boys could get behind him and take the shield from the wall.
    The problem then lay in how to get back out with the smith between that person and the door. Liam reluctantly conceded that they would have to use their knives. Calum walked to the right while Liam spread to the left.
    “Never seen a forge before,” said Calum, trailing his hand along the table at the right side of the room. He stopped and looked at the smith with interest. “How do you make the metal?”
    The smith eyed him. “We don’t make metal here, boy. I’m surprised you’ve never seen my forge before.