Marus stopped at the edge of the lake and looked at the shimmering surface, slightly undulated by the wind. The water in the shallows had a slightly greenish tint, but the further from the shore the more blue it became, resembling a uniform mirror. The surface of the water, illuminated by the morning rays of the sun, now reflected the crowns of the trees that thickly covered the shoreline and the fluffy clouds that drifted across the sky.

His horse snorted impatiently, digging his hoof into the sandy ground. Marus patted him lightly on the neck.

- Easy Byot.

He looked around again, then took a breath of fresh air into his lungs and breathed deeply. Nature filled him with peace. They were in the Land of the Great Lakes. That's what the people from his village where he grew up called this land. They had lived here so long that the elders no longer remembered where their people had come from. Nevertheless, they managed to settle this land and make it their home. The name of this land came from the many large lakes scattered within the forests, where similar tribes lived, speaking their language. Marus did not travel very far from his home, but he lent an ear whenever traders from neighboring villages came to his village. These merchants also ventured into foreign lands occupied by Goths who spoke another language, as they called themselves, traveling beyond the world he knew. This impressed young Marus, who had recently entered adulthood. Until now, he had been helping his father with farm work, hunting game, and practicing sword fighting. He hoped to become a merchant someday, even though this profession involved many dangers.

- Come on, Marus! Don't keep us waiting any longer! - there was a shout behind his back.

- I'm coming, Father! - he answered and pulled the hemp rope from the bridle and directed the horse towards the waiting group.

- Where to now, father? - he asked once he had caught up with them.

- You will see. - He answered mysteriously with a smile and moved forward on his horse, entering a thicket. The others followed him.

Marus mused, gazing at his father's upright back as they walked through the forest. He had never met his mother, who had died in childbirth from blood loss shortly after he came into the world. Had it not been for his wet-nurse who fed him then, he would not have survived his first winter. His father, even though he lost his wife, loved him throughout his life as best he could, even though the love was sometimes harsh. He taught Marus everything he knew how to do himself. He was now able to farm, hunt, and fight with sword and shield. Furthermore, he was no stranger to the spear either. Over the years he grew into a stout, strong young man, helping his father with the daily chores on the farm.

He was snapped out of his musings by a shout from ahead as they entered a marshy meadow that was in a small depression in the land.

- Stop! This is it. - declared his father, raising his hand for them to stop. - Get off your horses.

When they jumped down on the grass, he walked over to Marus and handed him the shovel.

- Keep it up, you'll dig it. Remember this place well, you'll be back here in the future.

Marus looked around carefully, a small watercourse ran near the meadow, but the area did not seem to stand out.

- Will we find what we are looking for here? - Marus asked uncertainly.

- That I am sure of. - his father said. - Now dig. We have to finish this by tonight.

***

The ground, slightly softened by the water, gave way easily under the wooden spade. Nevertheless, the work went on laboriously, and they had to change from time to time. They dug several search holes in different parts of the meadow, about half the height of a grown man, before they found what they were looking for. Under the soft soil, there was a thick layer of fine reddish-brown rock clumped together.

- Do you see it, son? - said Marus' father, taking one of the lumps in his hand and showing it to him in front of his eyes. - This is the true treasure of this land we inhabit. From this rock we obtain precious iron from which to forge swords, umbs for shields and spearheads. Without it, our life here would be much more difficult. - He then looked towards his fellows gathered around him. - Bring the baskets and load the ore into them. - he instructed.

Marus liked the physical work. He liked that he could focus on a single activity and not have to think about anything else. He had worked on the farm for as long as he could remember. His young body bore the marks of the toil and sweat he had shed. Every time he shoveled, the muscle tangles under his linen clothes tightened. He did not complain and patiently shoveled earth and rock.

Eventually they dug a long trench perpendicular to the watercourse, exposing the overlying brown layer. Then they loaded the ore into woven baskets, which they then had to fasten onto horses. The trench created in this way was immediately partially backfilled by the others with dug turf.

- Why are we doing this? - Marus asked curiously, looking back at them.

- This rock will renew itself in time, - his father explained with a smile. - That way we can come back here again someday.

By the end of the day, everyone was sweaty and tired. It was finally time to return to the village.

***

The next morning, Marus awoke and walked outside their hut. The sun was just rising, but his internal rhythm would not let him sleep any longer. As usual, he set to work tending the farm. His father, who got up a little later, found him working.

- What are you still doing here? - He asked, glancing at him. - You have today off. Go to the blacksmith, today you will help him clean and smelt the ore. Everything has already been arranged with him.

- Thank you, Father! - Marus said gratefully. Smelting ore was something he absolutely wanted to see.

- Go before I think about it. - waved his hand impatiently. But as soon as he turned his back on his son, he smiled under his breath.

Marus didn't wait any longer and moved hurriedly towards the blacksmith's hut. He could not hide his excitement. After all, such an opportunity comes along very rarely.

- Where are you going in such a hurry? - he suddenly heard a voice in front of him and Ayte, the daughter of one of the villagers, stood in his way. He had known her since she was born. She was younger than him, but they used to play together as a gang of kids. Much had changed since then, and Ayte herself had grown into a beautiful girl and had already taken on a feminine shape.

- To the blacksmith. - Marus replied, trying to avoid her. - Father agreed to let me help him smelt the ore.

The girl replaced his path again.

- Let the blacksmith sleep. He probably drank some mead last night. - she said with a laugh. - Everyone in the village knows that he likes it very much. Besides, it takes a long time to clean the ore and smelt it, you won't be finished by tomorrow. You'd better talk to me now.

Ayte smiled broadly. There was no denying her charm, even though like most girls, she had somewhat uneven teeth.

- So, what do you want to talk about? - he finally asked, resignedly.

- Make me your wife. - She said bluntly and laughed. - My father is unbearable. He keeps saying that I have to choose someone, and as you know yourself, there is not much choice here. I am afraid that he will marry me off to some old man. I have already rejected Menit and Glamsin and several others, and you are the only one left.

Marus laughed as well and placed his hand on her head, leaning lightly against her. He was taller than Ayte by more than a head.

- You're still a little low for that, don't you think?

Ayte pouted her lips in an expression of displeasure.

- You must like that blonde-haired Eynne like you all do. Remember, I can even be your second wife if you want. Your father is rich enough, and you have a big farm. - she said seriously.

- I'll think about it. - He replied evasively. - Will you let me go now? I really have to go to the blacksmith.

- But don't think too long, because my father is ready to marry me to any beggar. - she replied sadly.