The Silversmith Chronicles: Episode One Read online

  The Silversmith Chronicles

  Episode One

  Sam Hossler

  Sam Hossler

  The Silversmith Chronicles

  Episode One

  GRANNY APPLE PUBLISHING SARASOTA, FLORIDA

  The Silversmith Chronicles

  Copyright © 2012 by Sam Hossler

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to photocopying, scanning, recording, broadcast or live performance, or duplication by any information storage or retrieval system without prior written permission from the publisher. Inquiries should be directed in writing to the publisher.

  This book is an original work of fiction by Sam Hossler.

  Cover Photo: Art by Nathan Wiedemer

  Published by

  Granny Apple Publishing, LLC, Sarasota, FL

  www.grannyapplepublishing.com

  Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Hossler, Sam

  The Silversmith Chronicles: Book One / by Sam Hossler

  Granny Apple Publishing LLC trade pbk. Ed.

  eBOOK ISBN: 978-0-9851844-0-7

  Chapter 1

  “Ned, Ned, get over here. There’s another one, gut ripped open and looks like the liver’s gone.” Jake called excitedly to his friend as he looked with horror on the blood-splattered pasture.

  “Dang, we won’t have any sheep left if this keeps up. See any tracks? I keep thinkin’ it’s wolves but they would eat the whole carcass or drag it off somewhere. Just don’t make no sense.”

  Jake was searching the ground around the mutilated sheep. “The ground’s all stomped down but no wolf tracks that I can find. What say we post ourselves out here tonight, it’s almost a full moon, so we should be able to see any critter that comes in the pasture.”

  Ned, thoughtfully gazing at the colorful hills of Westmoreland County, Pennsylvania, looked a little apprehensive about spending the night with wolves about but agreed. “I can get my father’s musket and you have your spear, we should be able to take care of anything that comes sneaking around.”

  Both boys had grown up on the frontier and were seasoned hunters. “We lost another sheep last night,” Ned shouted to his father as he raced into the barn where Mr. Duncan was working. “Jake an me are gonna stake out the pasture tonight an I’d would like to have your musket with us.” His words came haltingly as he struggled to get his breath.

  “Well, I guess that’d be all right. There’s balls and powder on the shelf in my room, and don’t go gettin’ a pack a wolves after ya, there’s only one shot.” Albert Duncan knew his son was safe with the musket because he had taken it hunting many times. Still he wasn’t thrilled that these two sixteen year olds would be setting a trap for wolves.

  “Jake will have his spear and it’ll be near a full moon so we should be all right. What is it you say about our heritage, the Scotch-Irish are as tough as any critter on earth?”

  “Get your ma to fix some eats for ya, it’ll get right chilly after sundown and knowin’ you two you’ll be hungry before the moon comes up.”

  Ned disappeared into the Housa and soon was lifting the musket down from over the fireplace. “Now to get some balls and the powder horns,” he mumbled to himself. “Ma would you fix some vittles for Jake an me? We’re gonna stake out the pasture tonight.”

  After supper Ned gathered up the musket, shoulder bag, powder horns and package of food his mother had prepared. He ran swiftly over the plowed ground to Jake’s cabin. “Howdy Mr. Housa,” he called as he came to the door. “Jake ready to spend the night with me?”

  Gus Housa smiled and waved the boy in. The two families had become good friends and the boys helped at each other’s farm when it was harvest or planting time. “He’s been sharpening that spear all afternoon. You boys know what you’re gettin’ into?”

  Ned smiled and nodded, “It looks like there’s only one of the critters so if I can get a good shot at him that should end the raids. Have your cattle been bothered any?”

  Gus frowned as he shook his head, “No not yet, but, if it’s a wolf pack it won’t be long, so kill that critter any way ya can.”

  “We plan on doin’ just that, an I can already see the money we’ll get for the wolf hide over at Greensburg.”

  Just then a little old woman hobbled to the door and waved her cane at Ned. “Howdy Mrs. Housa, good to see ya.” She must be a hundred years old, Ned thought as he looked at the face wrinkled like old leather, hands gnarled, but a smile that would light up your heart.

  “Go ahead and call her Grandma everyone does,” Gus told him. “Mother doesn’t speak a word of English. Came over from Hungary as a little girl, her people never spoke English so she never learned. Ma and me can understand her and Jake gets some of it. She loves to tell him stories of the old country and he sits there soaking it up.”

  Jake came out the door, kissed his grandmother on the cheek and told her, “We’s gonna go kill us a wolf, I’ll bring back the hide to show you.”

  The old lady looked like she understood more English than they gave her credit for, her face turned cold and her eyes blazed, “No lycanthrope,” she mumbled, “no lycanthrope!”

  Jake just laughed, “Don’t worry grandma, I don’t know what a lycanthrope is but we won’t get any.” With that he slapped Ned on the back and shouted, “Let’s get this done.”

  The sun was sliding behind the trees as dusk settled over the small community of Salem Crossroads. The foothills of the Allegheny Mountains could be seen in the distance raising like barricades to easy access to this fertile land. It would be another two or three hours before the moon rose to give them the light they would need. As they made their way to the pasture Ned couldn’t stand it any longer and asked, “What’s a lycanthrope?”

  Jake just laughed, “I got no idea. Grandma has some funny sayings an I just go along with them. Probably it’s some kind a wolf they got in the old country. I’ll ask Dad when we get back.”

  Ned’s eyes were straining in the growing darkness to find a suitable hiding place. “Over there in that opening in the hedge row, we can see the whole pasture and not be seen.”

  “Looks good to me. The wind is in our face so they can’t smell us,” Jake answered. “You can rest the musket on that log an should be able to pick off anything that shows up. The trees are still in full color and the leaves haven’t fallen yet, so we’ll have cover.”

  The boys settled in talking in whispers. “Jake, you seen that greaser girl from down at the mines?”

  Jake rolled his eyes, “I seen her, ain’t she a good lookin’ gal? And does she ever fill out her blouse.”

  “They are somethin’ and she likes to show ‘em off, an I like to look. You notice she gives you a little smile when she catches you lookin’? I think her name is Maria an I thought about askin’ her to the Grange dance next week but my dad would skin me alive if he ever found me with a greaser. If they ain’t Irish,Scotch,German, or maybe British, as long as they ain’t a Tory, he wants no part of ‘em,” Ned muttered.

  Jake nodded, “Yah, I got the same problem except my dad would accept a gal from the Balkans or Scandinavia. You know at sixteen we should be able ta make our own choices about gals.”

  Ned tucked his chin down and pushing his chest out mimicked his father, “My Housa, my rules; so I guess I’ll put up with it a while longer,” Then nudged his partner. “Somethin’ got the sheep stirrin’ they’s gatherin’ in a circle and bawling back and forth.” Ned checked the priming powder, “I see something coming out of the woods on the other side of the pasture. It’s headed this way. What ya make of it
? Looks like a giant, twice the size of any man I ever seen and walkin’ stooped over like that.”

  Jake’s mouth was so dry he could hardly answer. “It’s gettin’ closer and with the moon light I can make out. . . . hell! What’s that? Looks like it’s covered with hair an the head, damn it’s, like a wolf. Ned them giant paws are reachin’ for a sheep, shoot the bastard!”

  Ned was shaking so hard he could hardly hold the gun steady, “Okay, okay, I’ll try.” Ned pulled the trigger sending the flint against the steel pan and igniting the powder and, with a mighty whoosh, the sixty-caliber ball was hurtling toward the victim.

  “You got ‘em, ya got ‘em, I seen him jump when the ball hit. Now where the hell did he go? With all this stinkin’ smoke I didn’t see him fall. Load that thing again I don’t want no critter like that alive.”

  “I’m loading as fast as I can but I’m still shaking and I don’t see that thing on the ground. You game to go out and check where it was hit?”

  Jake was shaking as bad as Ned but answered, “I’m game and I got me spear ready to stick whatever it was.” With that he stood up and on rubbery legs headed into the pasture. “Ned I know you hit him, I saw him jump but there ain’t a speck a blood here.”

  Ned was searching the ground around the frightened sheep, “Here, looka here, there’s a bit a hair, I ain’t never seen anything like it before. An I don’t like it, not at all. I don’t scare easy but this thing got me shaking. Let’s get back to my Housa and ask your pa if he knows what that was. At least it didn’t get any more sheep.”

  Jake was clutching his spear with a death grip, “I’m all for goin’ back, not sure I want to know what that was. I even lost my appetite—and that’s a first.”

  The boys burst in the door as Gus and his wife were getting ready for bed. “You boys back already?” Gus asked. Then he saw the look on their faces. “What happened? Ya look like you seen the devil himself.”

  Stammering, Jake blurted out, “I think we might have just done that. This giant thing came outa the woods and walked on two legs but all bent over. When it got close enough for us to see what it was, we just about swooned. It was twice the size of a big man, covered with hair and a head something like a wolf. Its arms were like great legs, paws with long fingers all hairy. Ned shot, it acted like it was hit, but when we went to find out, there was no blood—only this bit a hair.”

  Gus blanched, “Damn, they made it all the way over here,” and collapsed in a chair. “That’s what Grandma was tryin’ to tell you, a lycanthrope is what they called werewolves in the old country.”

  All the commotion woke Grandma and she came hobbling in, still in her night clothes. “Lycanthrope,” she cried. Then in a flurry of a language that Ned didn’t understand and of which Jake only caught a few phrases, she launched into an excited tirade.

  Gus was wide eyed, “She says when she was a little girl in Hungary these lycanthrope were known to roam the forests. They would attack the sheep and cattle, and then with a blood lust attack humans. Silver bullets or a silver knife stuck in the beast’s heart was the only thing that would kill them. She says it’s almost impossible to identify who they are during the daylight. They turn into these beasts and become active when the moon is full or nearly so.”

  Grandma, still chattering in her native tongue, went clattering back to her bedroom. Sounds of a trunk being opened and things moved about could be heard. Then she reappeared carrying a silver frame that had once held a painting of her mother and father.

  Gus was shaking, “She wants you boys to take this and have silver crosses made for each of you and some silver bullets. The crosses will give you some protection. I’ve heard stories about these things but never imagined they could be true. It’s1822, and things like this just don’t happen in this day in age. Grandma says since you two have seen him and tried to kill him you ain’t safe, he will hunt you down for revenge. You’re to wear the silver cross at all times and keep a silver bullet handy. She claims that he most certainly will be coming back.”

  Chapter 2

  Mounted on plow horses from the farm, Ned and Jake headed down the road to Greensburg. They rode bareback, no saddles, with only a blanket on the horses back and a bridle to guide the animal. It was better than walking the seven miles up and down hills. As the horses plodded along, the boys reflected on the apparition they had seen.

  Ned was visibly worried, “I heard stories about werewolves but thought they was just stories to scare little kids. These damn things is real. How come you brought your spear?”

  “I guess we know that for sure.” Jake shifted his weight on the saddle blanket to look his friend in the face and held the weapon out at arm’s length. “If there’s enough silver, I wonder if the smith could make a point for this. Grandma says silver’s the only thing that’ll kill one of these beasts, an this here spear’s all I got.”

  His friend nodded, “I reckon there should be enough, depends how much he wants to keep for himself as payment. But a couple a crosses an half a dozen sixty-caliber balls shouldn’t use up very much. Let’s walk this last mile. My backside’s starting to hurt,”

  There wasn’t much to the new county seat: a few stores, a courthouse and a church. The road coming in from Salem Crossroads, another from Crabtree and the main trail from Ligonier made this an important stopping point on the way to Pittsburgh.

  “You ever meet this silversmith, what’s his name, Hans, yah Hans Genhart?” Ned asked as they approached the cluster of cabins.

  “No, my dad said he met him once and he seemed a likable fellow, but has a heavy German accent.”

  Jake looped his reins over the hitching rail, “I don’t think they’ll go anywhere but just to be safe, I’d hate to go back and tell dad we lost the horses.”

  That brought a laugh from Ned as he followed with his reins. “We got enough trouble without that. I sure hope old Hans can help us.”

  Even though it was October and there was a morning chill to the air the shop door was open. Smoke from the smelter cast a blue haze throughout the room. Hans Genhart was a rather portly man with a full white beard and head of hair to match. Various items of silver were stacked around the room on shelves and tables.

  “Come in, come in,” Hans called as the boys entered the doorway. “You be the boys dat seen da werewolf, yah?”

  Jake smiled and Ned answered, “News sure travels fast in these parts.”

  “Yah, yah I heard about it just the other day. Ya know back in Bavaria we had them an they terrorized the whole community. But silver will kill ‘em, yah only silver.”

  Jake took the package from under his arm and opened it on the table in front of Hans. “All we got is this silver picture frame, can you make us a couple a crosses and about six sixty-caliber balls, an if there’s enough a tip for my spear?”

  Hans was stroking his beard, “Ya don’t leave much for payment. I may look like Father Christmas, but I ain’t. But yah, we can make a deal, we got to kill this beast before he gets the lust for human blood.”

  Just then Swede Norcrist stepped in the door. “I seen the boy’s horses an figured they was the ones dat seen the werewolf. Ya know these things been here in this country for hundreds of years. Vikings landed way up north back then and in the crew was not only werewolves but vampires. We been lucky this far south, dat is up till now. Me grandmother would tell me stories about these wolf-men but I always thought they was just stories. She claimed, just like everyone here is sayin’, silver is the only thing that will kill them.”

  Hans looked out the door and called to a passer-by, “Ho! Preacher, can ya come in for a while?”

  “I didn’t want to intrude, but I did see the horses and thought it must be the boys from Salem Crossroads. You know I’ve had some experience with these creatures and maybe could give the boys some advice.”

  Hans said, “This be the boys and boys this be Parson Tomas. We can use all the information we can get on this thing and how to kill it.”

 
The Parson nodded and turned facing the two boys, “You’ve heard silver is the only thing that’ll kill ‘em, and that silver crosses will keep ya safe. Well that’s not entirely true. Silver kills them all right but a silver cross will only protect you if you are a true believer in Jesus Christ and have given your life to Him.”

  The boys looked at each other wide eyed at the statement and not fully understanding what it meant.

  The Parson could see the confusion in their eyes and explained, “You have to believe in Jesus Christ as your Savior, believe it deep down, not just words to make believe. If ya don’t, the silver crosses won’t protect you any more than a stick. Where do you stand boys? Are you believers?”