Publisher's Synopsis
"Ironhand?" The dark haired man inquired.
"Yes." She peered out the half open door.
"You are Uther Ironhand, the fabled blacksmith?" The incredulity in his tone of voice did not surprise her.
"He was my father, I am Ethel." She replied impassively, ignoring the wide eyed look the man standing outside her door gave her. "I run the smithy now, but the hour is late and we are closed."
"If you have half your legendary father's skill, then I have come to the right place." The man peered over her broad shoulder to get a look inside. He was as tall as she, slender of build and dressed in form fitting leather jerkin over a fine silk shirt, dark leggings and expensive leather boots. His moderately handsome face did little to impress her, finely groomed moustache or no. "I have heard much of Uther's fame and am in need of a weapon of his workmanship."
"I have all the skills my father taught me and more." Ethel kept her voice cold, setting an errant strand of her long blonde hair back into place. "But we are closed for the day, old man... come back in the morning."
