Marigold Bellamy's Arc

Chapter 4 of 4

Mari had tea with Olga that morning before walking back into Lyle. Olga had set down her cup hard when Mari said she needed work. "Find it somewhere else," Olga had muttered, but she would not say what she meant. Mari left it alone. She still needed coin for the supplies, after all the manor would not fix itself and her magic surely wouldn’t do it. She’d been practicing as much as she could, for little progress. Later she could ask Olga about training though given she hadn’t offered yet, Mari wondered if she was born with the gift at all. She thought of checking the book on the walk to town, but it felt like an invasion of her great-aunts privacy. Garris found her near the market, arms full of red cloth. He set it down to talk. "There's a blacksmith just a few roads north of here," he said. "Poor man has been looking for help a long while." He paused. "Folks won't take the job. He's half giant see. They're afraid of him. I had an idea you wouldn’t be.” He looked at her with a soft smile. "Besides they shouldn’t be afraid either, but people will do as they do" Mari thanked him and walked north till the cobblestone turned into a dirt path. The forge sat low and heavy, timber-framed on a stone base. Fire glowed in the open hearth. A large shepherd dog lay by the door, light brown with fluffy ears. He lifted his head and thumped his tail when she came close. "Toby. Leave her be." The voice came from inside. Deep but surprisingly soft. A man ducked under the doorframe and stood. Looked to be in his late thirties. He was taller than any man she had ever seen, broad across the shoulders, blonde beard streaked with soot. His light brown eyes met hers and waited for her to flinch. She didn't. He seemed surprised. "My names Mairgold. Garris said you may need a hand around here. I’m looking for a job.” Mari stated offering a small smile. Tormund studied her a moment. "Three days a week. Hauling, cleaning the shop, and keeping track of the orders I get. Birdies come every day” He paused. "It’s hard work and most people don’t want to work long with how hot it gets in here." "I'm not most people. I grew up in a desert in Solmar.” She knelt and scratched Toby's ears. "Now I’m here, I'm fixing my late mother's estate into an inn. I need the coin to start." He watched her hand on the dog's head. “Which estate? There aren’t many around here.” Mari sucked in a breath. “The Bellamy estate, my mother was Isla.” “Ah, understood." He said it slow, like he was testing the shape of it. "Well fixing that place into an inn will take more than coin. Takes tools. Hinges, latches, nails." He wiped his hands on his apron. "I can help with those. For the inn." Mari looked up. "You'd do that?" "I said it." He did not soften it. Then, after a moment, “Sharing blood doesn’t define who anyone is, but you’ll have a hard time finding help around here. You show up, work, help me, I’ll help you. I expect to see you in the morning.” Mari stood and shook his hand. Her fingers vanished in his grip, but he was careful with it. "I’ll see you then," she said. “Wait before you go, I know these sisters. Identical twins, they’re unique and don’t say have much to say. They love to build though, paint too, might be willing to help. If you’d like me to ask.” “That’d be lovely. Thank you.” She nodded at him and petted Toby one last time before going through the old door. She walked home with the work in hand and a path forward. A steady wage. Tools for the repairs. Builders who could turn the broken manor into something travelers would seek. It was feeling like the inn could truly happen, a new start, and her small dreams coming true. The next few weeks would be busy but things were coming together.