Horseshoe's Tall Tale

"The Little Horseshoe Maker"

Foreword...
  I have always believed that stories are told to inspire and spark the imaginations of those fortunate enough to read them. A good story should be entertaining, but also be able to give something to the listener that they didn’t have before. Some moral truth, or just something as simple as a happy feeling. Reading about characters facing the challenges of their lives, and struggling through the hardships to overcome them strikes a chord with those of us facing the gauntlets of ordinary life. As long as people can relate to the characters, they can in some way help and motivate people to fight their own battles, and come out stronger.
  Now, I’m no great storyteller, but I don’t believe you have to be to tell a great story. All you really need is life experience and the desire to use it to help others by way of a morally uplifting message. I believe everyone has a story to tell, a story as unique and one of a kind as they are. They only need the motivation to put it down in words and share it with everyone. Now I have plenty of stories in my head, but one in particular seems to be pushing its way out. The story of a vertically challenged young girl and her desire to become something more than what everyone else seems to think she can be. She faces the normal everyday challenges of life in addition to the ones brought up just by her size. In my opinion, the difficulty of challenges someone faces in life is equal to the strength and determination they gain once that challenge is met and defeated. So it is reasonable to assume that a person with much greater challenges in their life can become much stronger than someone that faces very few challenges. In that vein, someone with a height challenge, who somehow meets and overcomes the struggles that her height creates, can in some ways be taller than the tallest of warriors. With all that said, I shall now begin the story…

Chapter One:  The Little Horseshoe Maker

  The world is full of warriors, those that see evil and wrongdoing and take up arms against it. The strongest of these warriors put their own well being behind those of the ones they protect. They bravely stand between the innocent, and the wrath of the enemy. They fight to survive, but live to die for the right cause. Without those with the courage to put it all on the line, the world would be a very scary and painful place. Now if one was to measure a warrior’s strength and worth, they might take a measuring tape to their muscles, or examine the sturdiness of their chin. They might also take into consideration the boldness of their voice and the volume of their shout. All of these things are to be considered when ranking the best of the best warriors that is true, but there is one thing that cant be overlooked and is not so easily placed on a scale and calculated. The heart and determination that the warrior holds inside. The willpower to face challenges and never back down. Also, the compassion to help those in need. These things cannot be determined by just a visual inspection of the warrior, which is why looks can be deceiving. If you wish to learn of just such a case of a warrior being more than what he, or she seems, then I shall tell you a tale of the most unexpected warrior to don a set of armor.  The tale of the little Horseshoe maker and how she became the strength of an entire army.
  The story begins in the unforgiving environment of the Scared Mountains. High up on this beast of nature lived a small village surrounded by a frozen forest. The people of this village were an extension of the Kingdom of First Dawn, trying to tame the wilderness to do the bidding of man. Many years had passed since the village was first established and little progress was made, save for the small radius of the village which stood as a small fortress against the wrath of the bitter cold and bloodthirsty animals that patrolled around it. The challenges were severe and many, but the people of the village stood up to them, deciding not to bend to the will of the wild. The people of the village called it Ironwill. One bitter cold day, there came visitors to Ironwill. It was two high ranking officers in the army of First Dawn, come to investigate the village’s claims of an unusual threat that had appeared of late. The two soldiers rode their horses up the trail to the village. They were greeted by two village defenders high atop the large outer wall of Ironwill. The defenders were part of a group known as the Blue Blade Militia.
“Who goes there? What business do you have inside Ironwill?” One of the defenders bellowed to the approaching soldiers.
“Our business is from the king, who sends us here to observe the claims of an unnatural presence threatening your village.” The lead soldier responded. “My name is Commander White, and this is Lieutenant Williamson.” He said, gesturing in the direction of the soldier behind him.
“The king sends us but two warriors to face an army of a hundred beasts? These are not your typical mangy wolves and starving mountain lions. The beasts are organized, bloodthirsty raiders!” The village defender shouted out. Commander White looked back at him with an unfeeling and callous stare.
“The kingdom’s resources are strained by the ongoing fighting in the Borderlands. You cannot expect the king to pull much needed fighters from the frontlines, to some out of the way village on top of a desolate mountain. We shall find these beasts you speak of, and report back to the king our observations. He will then make a determination on how much force is needed to insure the safety of this village.” The commander then gestured towards the gates. “Open up the gates, we require lodging and services from your village.” The defender grumbled to himself as he released the gate lock and swung the doors open for the soldiers to proceed into the village. Commander White turned to Lieutenant Williamson. “You go find us lodging for the night and some good strong ale, I will find a blacksmith to refit the shoe my horse threw.” Williamson saluted and rode off into the village. “You there...” The Commander spoke to one of the gate defenders. “Your village does have a blacksmith right?”
  Inside the gates of Ironwill, there stood a humble shack where the village blacksmith, Tiller Wellington, was hammering out armor and weapons for the village defenders. Commander White rode up to the shack and called out to him.
“Blacksmith, I require your services.” Tiller looked up from his anvil and removed his eye protection. He was a well built man that looked every bit the part of a skilled blacksmith. Tiller laid his hammer down and approached the commander.
“Good day sir. Welcome to Ironwill, how may I assist you?”
“Thank you blacksmith, my horse here, she threw a shoe a few miles back on the way to your village. It is such a harsh road to travel, you know. I would ask you to make a fitting replacement for a horse of the king’s.”
“It would be an honor.” Tiller replied. “I will get my apprentice on that right away.” He walked over to a bell and rang it. “Ursula!” He yelled out. Some distance away, a young girl practiced various lunges and sweeps with a wooden sword. The tiny girl stood but three and a half feet tall, with messy green hair and crystal blue eyes. Her target was a wood steak driven into the snow covered ground. A second piece of wood was nailed horizontally near the top to simulate arms. A pumpkin impaled on the top of the steak for the head, was the finishing touch on this most threatening of opponents. The girl pointed her sword up at the dummy.
“So Pumpkinseed, we meet at last.” She said with a smirk. “I’ve come to put an end to your reign of terror. Any last words before I finish you off, vile fiend?” The pumpkin just grinned back, thanks to the carving done on it to simulate the appearance of two eyes and a mouth. “No!? Well then, taste my sword!” She jumped high into the air and swung her sword into the dummies head, smashing it to bits in an explosion of seeds and goop. With her foe vanquished, the girl stood triumphant, having saved the world once again. “Good riddance, to bad pumpkins.” She scoffed.  In the distance, Tiller’s voice once again could be heard calling out.
“Ursula!” The voice seemed to bring her back to reality, causing the girl to stop and look in the direction from which it came.
“Uh oh…“ She said worriedly. She slid her wooden sword up under her belt, and took off towards the blacksmith’s shack.
“An apprentice? To make a horseshoe for a royal horse? Commander White spoke as though offended by the thought.
“This apprentice happens to specialize in horseshoes, for some reason or another she’s a natural at it. You can rest assured she will make a shoe worthy of the most royal of horses.” Tiller replied in a confident tone. He then turned his head and looked off into the distance. “That is if she can keep her mind on her work long enough…” Tiller muttered under his breath. Meanwhile, the young girl raced through the snow covered streets of the village, ducking in and out of alleys. Eventually coming to the back of the Blacksmithing shack. She climbed up toward a window and fell into it, landing safely on her bed. In a rush, she grabbed a blacksmithing book from her meager bookcase and dashed out through the front door.
“That girl…” Tiller continued to mutter to himself. “If she’s out playing I’ll…”
“You called father?” Tiller quickly turned to see the girl walking innocently out from inside the shack holding a book in her hands. “I’m sorry I took so long, but I was studying the finer arts of... uhmm...” She closed the book in her hands and glanced at the cover. “Decorative iron underwear crafting... ewww!”
“Ursula, you haven’t been in there this whole time studying, now have you?” Tiller squinted his eyes at his daughter, with an obvious doubt about her honesty. Ursula, or Horseshoe as she was sometimes referred to as because of her skills in crafting horseshoes, was looked upon by her father to carry on the Wellington blacksmithing tradition. As far back as family records showed, Wellington men have hammered the anvil, and Tiller had hoped to have a son of his own to continue the tradition. However, during the grueling three month journey to establish a settlement on the unforgiving Scared Mountains, Tiller’s wife died giving birth to the couple’s only child. The tiny,
underweight miracle he named Ursula. Her name was inspired by the ferocious battle the tiny girl fought against all odds to survive her early few months alive. Tiller believed she had strength like that of the massive bears back home in Fairgarden Valley. And even though she wasn’t the son he had hoped for, he loved her just the same regardless. He made her his apprentice and set about training her to become the first female blacksmith the Wellington family had ever known. But, despite Tiller’s best efforts, and the relative ease at which the girl had advanced in the art, Ursula had not shown the devotion that her father had always had for their family vocation.
“Well, you told me that I needed to study my armorsmithing, right?” Ursula looked up at her father with her big blue eyes, hoping to sound convincing. Tiller reached down and pulled out the wooden sword that was still hooked under her belt.
“What is this, a bookmark?” Once she saw her cover was blown, Ursula let out a guilty giggle. “We have already been through this discussion before Ursula, about you taking time away from your studies to go play some silly game.”
“It’s not a silly game!” Ursula disputed. “It’s warrior training, I want to be a fighter.”
“Ursula I...” Tiller stopped in his tracks and remembered the commander waiting at the front of the shack. He turned to see the soldier atop his horse, waiting impatiently. “I’m very sorry sir...” He apologized. “I will have my apprentice begin work on your horseshoe immediately. He turned back to
his daughter, who was still steaming from her fathers reference to her training as a silly game. ”Ursula, we need a horseshoe fit for royalty. Please deliver your best effort to this brave soldier.”
“Yes father...” The girl resigned the battle for another time, and went about her work. She walked up to the commander’s horse to take some measurements.
“This is your apprentice? A child!?” The commander spoke in disbelief. “I will not have some little girl make a mockery of my horse.” This comment stopped Ursula in her tracks.
“I assure you. she is well trained and will make a...” Tiller’s attempt to persuade the soldier was suddenly interrupted by Ursula, who’s face had turned red as a beet.
“I am not a little girl!” She yelled out at the commander. Tiller rushed over to his daughter and grabbed her shoulders.
“Ursula! You do not raise your voice to a soldier of the king.” He looked up at the commander. “I’m very sorry sir, but my daughter, she is not used to addressing someone of your rank.” The commander looked back at Tiller and let out a loud laugh.
“You have no need to apologize my good man.” Commander White said before turning his attention back on the young girl. “You have alot of spirit, and nerve to match, talking to me in such a manner.” He climbed down off his horse and tied the reigns to a hitching post. “If your ability in blacksmithing is anywhere near as strong as the fire in your eyes, then I do not doubt you will make a fine horseshoe.” The commander patted the top of Ursula’s head as he looked back towards Tiller. “I will be back here tomorrow morning, I shall expect my horse to be ready by then.”
“Yes sir, it will be.” Tiller replied. With that, the commander turned and walked off towards the bright lights of the village tavern. When the soldier was a far enough distance away, Tiller resumed his lecture towards Ursula.
“I don’t know where you got this notion of being some tough, hardened warrior, but if you continue to address distinguished members of the First Dawn army in that manner, someone is going to knock it out of you!” Tiller took Ursula’s wooden sword and snapped it over his knee, breaking it in half. He then tossed the shattered remains down to the ground. “This is going to stop young lady. You will behave yourself and obey your father.” Ursula looked down at her broken sword laying in pieces over the snow covered ground. Her heart sank into her stomach at the awful sight. “You are my daughter Ursula, and I know what is best for you. This fantasy of being some adventurous fighter, it wont last. It’s only a phase, and soon the harshness of our life here will wear it away. You have to accept
the reality of our situation, and stop running off to daydream.” Tiller walked over to a shabby workbench and took a hammer from it. He then returned to Ursula and handed the hammer to
her. “I love you Ursula, and I want you to have a good life. Training in blacksmithing and having a profession to survive on is what will make your life fruitful in this harsh environment. One day, when I’m long gone, you will look back on the training and guidance I have given you and be thankful for it, I promise.” Tiller gave his daughter a kiss on the cheek. “Now, enough of this, you have work to do and so have I.” He went back to the armor piece he had been hammering out. He slid his goggles back on and turned back towards Ursula. “Remember, your best work on that horseshoe. We want to give the king our best.” Ursula nodded, barely listening to what he had said. She looked back at the splintered pieces of wood that a few moments ago had been her great warriors blade. He didn’t
understand, she thought to herself, that she wanted to be some- thing more than just a blacksmith. She wanted to be a fighter, to be in a battle, to push herself to the limits of her body and go past them. Ursula looked up at the commander’s horse. She imagined herself up on it, riding to victory and carrying the king’s banner. Such an honor it would be to lead an army of soldiers into war, she thought. To charge in on her horse and fight a grueling battle to vanquish a vile threat to the kingdom.
These thoughts were so much more thrilling to her than merely making a horseshoe for a commander’s horse.
“Ursula, today...” Her father’s voice snapped Ursula out of her daydream. She quickly made her way towards the horse and began measuring it’s hoof for the shoe.
  The day wore on, and as the sun was setting behind the huge summit of the Scared Mountains, Ursula finished the horseshoe she had been working on. Her father put away his tools for the night and told her to fit the shoe on the horse before she went to bed herself. She set the shoe on the commander’s horse, burning it into the hoof to ensure the proper fit. Afterwards, she hammered the nails in and sanded down the horse’s hoof. It might have been boring work, but Ursula was proud of herself. It was a horseshoe that would make the king proud. Ursula put her tools away into her tiny workbench and was about to close the shop, before she had a sudden thought.
“I really should test the shoe out, I mean I wouldn’t want there to be a problem and have the commander be the one to find it out.” She said to herself. A great big smile appeared on her face at this thought she had just had. Ursula dragged a few wooden boxes of nails over and stacked them into steps alongside the horse. She then untied the horse’s reigns from the hitching post. Even with the extra height of the boxes, she had to stretch to reach the saddle and drag herseld up onto it. She carefully balanced herself atop the horse and for a brief moment felt like she was ten feet tall. She grabbed the reigns and snapped them. “Yaww!” She yelled out. Suddenly the horse reared up and stood on it’s rear legs. Ursula held on tight to the reigns to avoid falling backwards. The horse then let out a loud whinny, before going back on all fours and into a gallop. Ursula merely held on for dear life as the horse made it’s way down the darkened streets of the village. With no idea how to control the horse, Ursula was at the animal’s mercy. The horse rode by the tavern, where the two soldiers were still drinking into the night. They could see it through a foggy window, as it passed by.
“Here now!” Lieutenant Williamson said to Commander White. “Wasn’t that your horse riding by at this late hour?” White, who was completely smashed off of the pints he had been chugging, stared out the window to see the horse disappear into the night.
“I suppose it was!” He let out a loud belch. “Good to see it back and riding well on a new shoe.” The commander held up his mug. “Hear hear, to the little horseshoe maker!” The lieutenant gazed back at the commander.
“But sir, your horse is running away...” Commander White squinted his eyes back at the lieutenant, obviously struggling to maintain consciousness.
“What horse?” He said. Outside, Ursula struggled to hold on as the horse turned a corner and headed straight for the village gates. The gate defender rose from his post atop the wall and looked on as the horse charged full steam ahead.
“My goodness, the commander is heading out this late at night? Maybe he has a lead as to where to find the mire beast’s camp!” He quickly pulled on the gate’s heavy chains, which opened the massive doors in a large wide arc. “All clear for the king’s rider!” The defender yelled out. As the horse came closer, the defender saluted it. He was then shocked to see the tiny figure of the green haired girl hanging from the saddle. The horse flew by and out through the gates, into the wilderness of the frozen forest, taking Ursula with it. Outside the village, Ursula could not see more than a few feet in front of her. The darkness enveloped everything in the distance. All she saw were trees streaking past her as the horse quickly galloped through the bitter cold night. She knew somehow, she was going to have to stop this animal, and get it to turn around. She fought to get up in a sitting position with the wind trying to push her off balance.
“Whooooa horse! Whooooa!” She yelled out. The horse suddenly slammed on it’s brakes, sending the girl up and over the front of it. She slammed into a tree and fell down into the snow, unconscious. The horse strode by and sniffed at her, almost as if to see if she was alright. Ursula just lay there not moving. After a few moments, the horse walked off and disappeared into the forest.

End of Chapter One...