Page 66 of Picking Up the Gauntlet

“Well then, we’ll just come to the castle during the tournament to judge your piece.”

“But-but can’t we wait and do it at a later date? In a month or two, mayhap?” asked Jonathon, feeling suddenly pressured since he hadn’t even started on anything yet.

“It’s either then, or you’ll have to wait until next year when we return,” said the man. “What is your choice?”

“Next year?” That sounded like an eternity to him. “Nay, I don’t want to wait that long.” Jonathon felt his opportunity slipping away as well as another year of his life. He was already twenty-three. His father couldn’t continue to pay two journeymen for long, since Avery was a journeyman now, too. It was crucial that Jonathon have his own shop, but he couldn’t do that without first becoming a master. He needed to do this if he was ever going to move forward. It was also time to marry and have a family in his life. He needed and wanted to be a master with his own shop. The problem was, he no longer had the time to make the masterpiece that was required to get to where he wanted to be.

“Then it’s settled. I’ll tell the other judges and we’ll meet you at the tournament in two weeks to judge your masterpiece,” stated Wilkin.

“Nay, don’t do that.” Jonathon needed to make the man understand. “I haven’t decided on anything yet or even started on my project.”

“You haven’t?” asked the man. “Two weeks is not enough time to make anything that is going to be good enough to earn you the title of master, I can guarantee you that. This piece needs to be exquisite and the best work you’ve ever done. Only the finest quality craftmanship will win you the title.”

“I know,” said Jonathon, shaking his head in frustration. It all came back to titles again, and him not having one. “I have very limited time at the forge to work on anything, since I’ve taken this job for Lord Blake. I’m sorry to say I will not be able to complete it in time. I guess I will have to wait until next year.”

“That’s a shame since I had a good feeling about you. I thought you would make a fine master of your trade, just like your father,” said Wilkin shaking his head. “We could use someone like you opening his own shop right now. There are many towns around here who need an armorer. You’d make a lot of money. We have a lot of blacksmiths, but not many armorers at all. Oh well, I guess that isn’t going to happen this time. Well, then, good day.”

“Thank you. Good day,” said Crispin, when Jonathon found himself lost for words. “Thank you for stopping by, Guild Master Wilkin.”

“Jonathon, what are you going to do?” asked Avery, after the guild master left. “This is your dream. It’s all you’ve been talking about for years now. How can you give it up so easily?”

“I don’t have a choice, Avery,” said Jonathon. “Without a masterpiece to present to them, I have no chance of being anything but a journeyman for at least another year.”

“Let me get those splinters out of your chest,” offered his mother, directing him to a chair.

Raven stood there silently, watching Jonathon’s family support him and take care of the wounds that she’d inflicted. Had her obsession to learn the joust and fight in the tournament cost Jonathon his dream? He seemed so downhearted, and she felt as if she were to blame.

It didn’t sit right with her. Raven felt stupid and also very selfish. She was only fooling herself thinking she could go up against experienced knights in a tournament. It took years of practice to learn the skill of jousting. Why in the devil’s name did she think she could master it in such a short time? Or even at all?

Her foolishness had given her hope, but now she realized there was nothing she could do to change the fact she was going to have to marry whichever man won the blasted tournament. Raven’s dream, just like Jonathon’s, was gone. Her future was being determined by chance, and there was nothing she could do to change it.

Removing her armor, she placed it on the table, slowly running her hand over it reverently, in a silent goodbye. “Don’t worry about finishing my armor,” Raven told Jonathon. “I won’t need it anymore.”

With that, she walked out the door to wait for Jonathon to take her back to her prison—Blake Castle. She saw Guild Master Wilkin mounting his horse, and had an idea of how she could at least help Jonathon.

“Excuse me, guild master,” she said, approaching him, sloshing through the muddy street.

“Who are you?” asked the man, looking down at her from his horse.

“I’m-I’m a friend of Jonathon’s,” she told him, not wanting to reveal her true identity. He would probably never believe she was a noble anyway, since she wore dirty men’s clothes and was wallowing in the mud.

“What do you want?” he asked her.

“I want you to give Jonathon another chance to earn the title of master craftsman and to have his own shop. It is his dream. It’s everything he ever wanted.”

“Well, he’ll still have a chance but it’ll have to wait until next year.”

“Nay. He can’t wait that long. Isn’t there something you can do to help him?”

“I wish there was, but unfortunately it looks as if Jonathon has no masterpiece to present to the guild, and no time to make anything impressive enough in that short of a time.”

“Oh, but he’s a wonderfully skilled craftsman,” she assured the man.

“I don’t care how skilled his is. If he doesn’t have a presentation piece, then he won’t be considered for the position of master this year.”

“He does have something,” she blurted out in desperation, certain Jonathon could get something together in time if he just stopped wasting his time with her.

“He does?” The man’s ears perked up. “Then why did he say he didn’t?”