He finished it on the second morning and quenched the whole thing in the vast vat of rainwater at the center of the room. He then took a stone to file and sharpen the edge, but found it was already dangerous to touch. He tested the edge and the tensile strength and was deeply satisfied. When one of the assistants knocked at the door this time he unbarred it and allowed the other man to enter.

He had worked until daylight pulled his head up to the horizon, just as the morning star, Venus, disappeared under the summit of the mountains, and he held the sword by its hilt up to the sun to see clearly what had been created in his furnace. It was perfect. Or nearly so.

When Charlton, the young assistant who was in charge of keeping the fires going, entered that morning, the first thing he noticed was the motif radiating out from the center of the sword, like patterns on Damascus steel, as it rested there on Purchase’s bench. These were not ordinary etched formations, though. People lucky enough to view it over the years all claimed they saw different things there, but even the wisest men and women could only see what they already knew. The majority saw nothing at all. What Purchase and his assistant both saw in the metal, as it cooled from its own creation, neither would confess to the other, for it was the entire world and future of the not-yet-conquered continent.

First was Auriga, called the Charioteer, who was the son of Hephaestus. There were then the instruments: Caelum, known as the Sculptor’s Chisel; Pyxis, the Compass; Sextens and Octans; and Norma as well. Great Fornax adorned an edge, as did Scutum and Horologium. Andromeda did burn brightly, and Ara, that most ancient altar, was there like a jeweled inlay in the metal itself. The celestial birds were present in pairs, Tucana and Aquila, the Eagle; Corvus and great Phoenix, though this was the only thing that might be called a blemish on the blade, as it was the same purple color of that creature in life, and was in fact the strongest metal, standing hard at the tip.

Delphinus played with other lighthearted beasts. Ophiuchus was present with his snakes, and Draco, the Dragon, appeared to turn, as it does in the night sky. Old Boötes drove the Bears as e’er he will — until the polestar turns away.

He saw Adam and Eve and their children, whom he did recognize, but hundreds of other people he did not. He saw in fact whole peoples who seemed strange to him and so could not make out their actions, only the ones he had already heard tell of. But everywhere on it he saw hope.

Down, not far from the base of the sword, Purchase Merian saw a man who was undoubtedly his father, Jasper; then himself. There were other figures as well near to them, but when these two appeared he nearly dropped the metal, for while the others were all strangers or only distantly known, these two stood so forcefully and lifelike he recognized that it was work even beyond what he could create and knew he held what had been blessed by God.

Besides his own hidden history he also saw a face that was clear and knew it was another close to him, though he did not recognize the man. He next saw the history of the country, from the explorers Cabot, Columbus, Balboa, Magellan, and Raleigh in their armadas first sailing, and the king’s chartering each of the colonies one by one. He saw as well fantastic inventions that he could not decipher from the more mythic things that adorned the blade. Had he an interest, he could have counted and named the great artists and scientists of the land and even its immortal bards. Of the philosophers there were not a great many, but its generals were numerous and mighty.

He also saw wars. He saw them first in what he recognized as the African and European lands, and he saw the Indian conflicts, ending with that race sent on a great trek out of their countries. Nearer he saw a war between Englishmen and another people who seemed much like them. Deeper down the blade he saw war again in Europe, that conflict then spilling off and onto all known parts of the globe. He also saw wars with the strange races he did not recognize and could not name, but that his countrymen did fight with them.

Next he counted men he did not know but could tell were to be the great leaders of the colonies, and of them were every race of men, including some he had not seen before and could not recognize. His eye did stop and go back, though, when he realized how close was the first of the mighty wars imprinted on the sword, and this he surmised was the reason for it being called into being.

When he could see no more, as the motif faded at a point and would not reveal its mysteries, he bade Charlton to hold it and feel its faultlessness, but the instrument was too heavy for the boy. One by one the rest of the workers entered the shop that day and marveled at what Purchase had created in his sequestered fever, but none could lift it, nor could any decipher the legend that ran down the center of the blade.

The sharpness, though, was evident to all. One man touched a solid iron bar to it, which was split evenly in two. The same was true for paper, hair, and even rock. Nor did the blade dull. When he asked that they try to break it, they all balked, not wanting to harm anything so lovingly crafted. In fact none would approach until Purchase offered a reward for whoever could break that steel. Each man tried it then, but none of them could succeed. For Purchase had made a perfect sword, which he told all who would listen was the only need it had for existence, though he knew by then it would eventually be part of an altogether different and very sad business.

Defeated in their efforts to break the blade, the other men retired, each speaking in awe of it — most of all the master smith who had been first to teach Purchase about fallen metals. He then spent the rest of that day creating a scabbard for the weapon. Although the scabbard was itself a fine item of worthy craftsmanship, and even beauty, it was quite plain compared to the sword. Nor did Purchase see any reason it should be any other way. He wrapped the entire bundle in a piece of handsome fabric, then swaddled it again in coarse burlap to protect it. When he had finished, he bade an assistant bring his horse around.

When the boy appeared with the animal it was already nearing darkness, and Purchase boarded it in one graceful motion, holding the package in his hands. He set out briskly for Stonehouses, where he was expected.

He arrived just as the shadow across the sundial out front spread into general communion with the shadows around it, and the thumbnail of a sun, which had held up just long enough for him to say he was there before sundown, vanished.

He stabled his horse, rubbing it down a little before entering the house through the kitchen, where Sanne’s great oven was filled with foods. Before he even opened the door, he could feel the warmth from the other side of the wood and smell that his mother had been cooking all day. Inside he found Adelia, the girl who helped Sanne with the house chores, stirring a large pot as he greeted her.

“They were waiting for you to eat,” she said, as he made his way to the dining room. There he found his parents, as well as Content and Dorthea, several of his father’s friends, and their immediate neighbors — except Rudolph Stanton, who never mingled — all gathered to celebrate Merian’s birthday.

Purchase first greeted his mother, then all their guests, as his father watched from the chair where he sat. Finally he went to his elder.

“Since when is sundown half past eight?” Jasper asked, looking at a watch he had bought some years before. “You know how we appreciate punctuality.”

“You have my profuse apologies, Papa.”

Purchase knew his father’s moods by now, as well as how best to avoid them, but tonight he found occasion for good cheer, seeing that he was not intent on punishing him for his tardiness. The two men clasped and he bid his father a happy birthday and good health. Adelia then came out and Sanne announced dinner to be ready.