THE SMITH
The pounding of a hammer sounded far into the night from the workshop of Henrik the Smith. In the glimmering light of the forge he estimated his work and grunting dissatisfiedly pushed the iron back in to the middle of the coals and grabbed the bellows. The revived flames sparked and the fluttering light revealed the gloomy face of the ageing man. Henrik wiped the sweat and soot seeking his eyes with the back of his hand and felt how the exhaustion weighed in his arms and back. This was the most important order he had received and it was also the most difficult one, even though he kept it a secret.
Not very long ago in the middle of the afternoon a distinguished legation had marched in to Henrik’s workshop. Indeed, Henrik had at once recognised the arrogant looking and expensively dressed man –it was no other than Bishop Magnus Tavast who had personally come to meet him. Clearly, the bishop wanted something new and big now: it was decided that the chapel of the Holy Body is to be built to the Cathedral in this the year of Grace 1425. He wanted a gate of iron and Henrik was to prepare it.
After he had stated his business, the bishop had left as majestically as he had arrived. As of mutual agreement the clergymen who had arrived along with the bishop now simultaneously started swiftly explaining and showing Henrik drawings one more peculiar than the other. Politely, Henrik gazed at the pictures and listened to the men. He nodded when he found it necessary. He was thinking to himself, that once the men left, he would redraw the plans a little. It was evident that the soft-handed clergymen had no idea how the iron would or would not bend. They would hardly notice, if he straightened a couple of curls.
Henrik pulled the red-hot iron from the forge and started pounding it against the anvil. The iron curved and sparks flew upon the leathery apron. Finally the smith was satisfied.
