Burning Vigil

By Roguebfl

It had been a long day for me. Between having to chop the wood and pumping the forge’s bellows I'm tired. Though my current task of minding the fire under the blank’s carbon pots was much more relaxing, but I would rather be sleeping.

Not that being my master’s apprentice is all bad. He was after all he not just a blacksmith but our Lord’s personal weaponsmith; a big step up from being the youngest child of a peasant farmer. While my master never had any children of his own was good with most of my ‘how to do that’ or ‘what does that do’ questions, as long it does not get in the way of getting the work done. By if my ‘why’ ones got a reply of “That's a question for the priests” I have learned to drop it there.

But it was an important task. The fire had to keep going all night so the blank was ready in the morning. And I would be allowed to rest afterwards. Unfortunately the first I realized I had fallen asleep was being awakened with a twist of ear.

“Get up you slothful brat!” my master yelled at me as he lifted me from spot by the remains of the cold fire and cracked pot that had let air into the sealed pot.

“Your laziness ruined 3 days worth of work,” he continued as he dumped me face-down bent over his anvil before he flipped up the back of my long tunic to reveal my bare nether cheeks. I laid there trembling knowing I had majorly messed up, knowing the blank would need to be resmelted to be of any use. So I was not at all surprised when my Master picked and return to my side with the strop.

When the coarse leather of the strop started to land on my naked nates I was in too much pain to keep track of the number of licks. Try as I might to take my punishment with dignity, I could not for long. For the same arm that can work the hammer and anvil was more than up to the task of breaking my pride and have me wailing like an infant. I squirmed, I kicked, I professed my repentance, I begged for mercy, but I did I stayed in place and accepted my correction.

When my master had decided he had meted out enough just mortal penance for my failings he set aside the strop and I was allowed up. I danced on the spot and rubbed my flaming backside. My master addressed me again this time more kindly he said, “When you composed yourself you can break fast after you have confessed to the priest. Then I'll show you how to fix a blank in this state.”

Washing my tears away in the tempering pool I prepared to find the Priest for confession. For this was not a lesson to miss.