Revenge of the Wrought-Iron Flamingos(7)

I turned my attention back to the dagger in time to grab Amanda's hand before she touched the blade.

„Careful!“ I said. „It's razor sharp; you could slice your finger off.“

„You get much call for working daggers?“ Amanda asked.

„There's a growing market for period weapons,“ I said. „Renaissance fairs, Society for Creative Anachronism folks – you'd be surprised.“

„They let people run around at Renaissance fairs with sharpened swords?“

„No, but this is a test piece,“ I said. „Proof that I've learned the first stages of what Faulk's been teaching me about the swordsmithing craft. I had to handforge the steel for the blade, just the way they would have in the 1300s, and sharpen it to perfection.“

„Can't you just buy the blades somewhere these days?“ Rob asked. „From Japan or something? That'd be a lot easier.“

„Yes, and you can get them pretty reasonably from India and Japan, and most people couldn't afford a handforged steel blade. But even if you're usually going to buy your blades and just make the handles, Faulk says it's important to learn how they're made the traditional way, so you really understand the steel. You're much better able to choose a good blade if you know how they're made.“

Michael frowned again when I mentioned Faulk's name. Aha! Maybe it wasn't swords that bothered him – maybe it was Faulk. As I realized that, he smiled – was it a genuine smile, or was he just making an effort? – and disappeared into the crowd with a slight wave.

„Mr. Right not keen on the swordsmithing project?“ Amanda asked.

I shrugged. Damn, she had sharp eyes. I'd only just picked up on it myself.

„Well, you seem to be in good shape,“ boomed a voice from outside the booth.

Mrs. Waterston. We all whirled, and Rob, who had been testing the blade of my dagger, yelped as he cut himself slightly.

„I told you to be careful,“ I said, taking the dagger back as Rob sucked his finger with a martyred air.

Mrs. Waterston fixed her gaze on Rob. And frowned.

„Haven't you got anything useful to do?“ she asked. She was, I noticed, speaking with an accent that might be mistaken for British, but only by someone who'd never heard the real thing.

Rob looked uncomfortable, and tugged at the ruffled neck of his shirt.

I found myself resenting Mrs. Waterston's immediate assumption that Rob was loitering about with nothing to do. Irrational, since that's just what he would have been doing if I hadn't scared him into action. But then, he was my brother, I might disapprove of his character in private, but I wasn't about to give Mrs. Waterston the privilege.

„He's been helping me unpack,“ I said. „Put the stand for the dagger right in the middle of the table, Rob.“

„Besides, I'm meeting someone here,“ Rob said. „A business meeting.“

„A representative of one of the software companies mat's interested in buying Lawyers from Hell,“ I added. „You know, the computerized version of the role-playing game he invented.“

„Oh. I see,“ Mrs. Waterston said. „By the way, I've been meaning to speak to you about people's accents.“

„Don't worry; I've already given orders about that,“ I improvised. „Since the fair's located behind American tines, we're going to represent colonial crafters, not British ones. The Town Watch has orders to arrest anyone speaking in a British accent and put them in the stocks, as suspected Tories.“

„I see,“ Mrs. Waterston said, blinking. „Well, then, cany on,“ she added, in something closer to her normal accent.

She scrutinized Rob once more, as if she still hadn't quite gotten used to the notion of him as capable of inventing something for which grownups would pay good money. Then she turned and sailed off, though not without difficulty. The lane had grown more crowded, and she had to turn sideways every few feet to squeeze her panniers through the crowd. Instead of a galleon in full sail, she looked like a barge being towed through a crowded harbor.

„Wow,“ Cousin Horace said, peering around the edge of the booth. „That was great.“

„So go tell the Town Watch about arresting Tories,“ I said. Horace disappeared.

„Thanks,“ Rob murmured, his eyes still on Mrs. Waterston's retreating form.

„No problem,“ I said. „I thought the guy wasn't supposed to come till noon, though.“

„I didn't want to miss him if he came early,“ Rob said.

Two hours early? Well, it was important to Rob.

„You're welcome to stay as long as you keep out of the customers' way. Or, better yet, make yourself useful. Bring some more stuff out from the back.“