The Merchant of Vengeance (Shakespeare & Smythe 4)

"There, in the blade, see?" Dickens pointed it out to him. "'Tis a flaw in the metal."

Shakespeare looked more closely. "Now that you point it out, I can see it," he said, "but 'tis barely noticeable."

"Nevertheless, 'twould make the blade fail in combat," Dickens said, tossing it aside contemptuously. It fell to the floor with a clatter.

"Fail how?" asked Shakespeare.

"'Twould break," said Smythe, bending down and picking up the sword. "This cannot be one of yours, Ben."

"It very nearly was," Dickens replied. "One of my own journeymen tried to pass this off as being acceptable, since 'twould only be employed for decoration. I gave him the boot. Some of the others thought that I was being too harsh. When you came in, Tuck, I told them that you would spot the flaw in an instant. They disagreed and wagered you would not." He laughed. "Gentlemen," he cried out, thumping the table, "pay up!"

With sour expressions, several of the journeymen placed their coins upon the tabletop.

"Consider it a lesson cheaply bought!" Dickens told them.

"Mark me well, for I shall not tolerate inferior craftsmanship!"

"Where shall I put this?" asked Smythe, holding the sword. "I care not," said Dickens. "What good is it? Throw it out."

"Why not hang it upon the wall back here, as a symbol of what shall not pass out of this shop?" asked Smythe.

"Now that is an excellent idea," Dickens said. "I shall do just that. You should come and work for me, Tuck. You know your steel. You would make a splendid armourer."

Tuck smiled. "You have asked me before, Ben, and I fear my answer has still not changed."

"But why?" asked Dickens. "You do work for that cantankerous old smith Liam Bailey. What can he offer you that I cannot?"

"The freedom to come and go as I please, for one thing." Smythe replied. "And I enjoy working in a small smithy, for another. It reminds me of my boyhood, working with my Uncle Thomas. Besides, my first loyalty shall always be to our company, Ben, you know that."

"Aye, I know," said Dickens with a smile. "And I understand, too. I was a player once myself, remember. But 'tis indeed a pity. You would be a wonderful addition to my shop."

"You are too hard a taskmaster, Ben," Smythe replied with a grin. "I fear that you would grow impatient with me."

"Nonsense. But have it your way. My offer stands. There shall be a place for you here anytime you choose."

"Thank you, Ben," said Smythe. "Your kind offer means more to me than I can say. Perhaps I may even take you up on it one day. But if I may, I should like to discuss the purpose of our visit."

"By all means. I am all attention."

'Well," said Smythe, "we have considered that of all the people that we know, you are doubtless the most widely travelled and have thus seen much more of the world than anyone else of our acquaintance."

"Perhaps," said Dickens with a shrug. "I have travelled widely, that is true, and I have seen much. I would not pretend that this has given me great stores of wisdom, but I may have learned a thing or two along the way. If my experience can be of any benefit to you, then please say how I may be of service."

"Do you happen to know any Jews?" asked Shakespeare.

Dickens raised his eyebrows. "Now, there is a curious question! Of all the things you could have asked of me, I must say, I would never have expected that. Why do you ask?"

"Will is intent upon writing a play about a Jew, so as to outdo Kit Marlowe's Jew of Malta," Tuck replied.

"Well now, you need not have put it quite that way," Shakespeare said, somewhat petulantly.

"How else should I have put it?" Smythe asked.

"You could have simply said that I was considering writing a play about a Jew and left it at that. You need not have added that I was trying to outdo Kit Marlowe. That makes it seem as if I am trying to compete with him."

"But you are trying to compete with him. You told me so yourself."

'Well, never in so many words."