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adjoining forge, where Clerve was helping Nicos. The apprentice lifted the
hammer and struck. Justen smiled faintly and focused on his brother.
 Maybe. Gunnar ran his thumb along his jaw.  Maybe. Do you want to go into
Sarron?
 When? Justen wiped the dampness from his forehead again and glanced
toward the rear of the smithy, where Altara had just straightened up from
readjusting and leveling the shaft bearings for the still-unfinished hammer
mill.  We ve got a lot to do.
 Later& right after you finish.
Both men paused as Clerve delivered a series of blows to the metal on
Nicos s anvil. Justen wrinkled his nose to forestall a sneeze from the
combined odors of metal, soot, and hot oil.
 That ll be a while.
 It certainly will be. Altara had walked in behind Gunnar.  He ll be on
that section of the frame until the shadows have dropped on those pink walls.
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And he s going to have to go with you on with that Sarronnese detachment the
day after tomorrow. So here you are, cutting into productive- Gunnar looked
apologetic.  I didn t mean&  He paused.  But he would be helpful-
 You two. Altara shook her head.  All right. He can leave-this time-when
that cross brace is welded and the brackets are set. That s still going to be
a while.
 Thank you. Gunnar inclined his head.  Why do you&  Altara paused.  It s
not as though you re exactly a drinker, young wizard. Did Justen put you up to
this?
 Not this time. Gunnar closed his lips tightly for a moment, as if holding
a grin.
 What are you up to that you need Justen?
 I just want to get a feel for Sarron. If I go alone&  The blond man
shrugged.
 I don t know as that s a good notion, going into Sarron itself, since it s
more than a little clear that the Sarronnese are not overly fond of our
getting too close. Still, I couldn t keep you here, Gunnar, if I wanted to,
and maybe the two of you together will get into less trouble.
 How about three? asked Justen, looking toward the corner of the barracks
building where the green banner flew.  Besides, having a lady with us-
 You want to take the young healer, strip away all our talent?
 It s a good idea, added Gunnar.  This is one of the last bastions of the
Legend.
 Fine. Assuming that Krytella wants to accompany you two young scoundrels.
Just let Justen get on with his work for now.
Gunnar nodded, bowed, and left.
Altara pursed her lips, then blotted her brow, leaving a damp streak of
soot. She frowned and rubbed the smudge off with the back of one heavily
muscled and lightly tanned forearm.
 When I look at you two&  she shook her head  & I just feel trouble. Not
the ordinary kind of trouble. Something different. The chief engineer
coughed.  Then, maybe it s this place.
Justen nodded and swung the pieces of the cross brace back into the forge.
 But you do good welds, and your casings don t need much polishing, Berol
tells me. Altara looked straight at the young engineer.  Don t let that go to
your head. You re still not that good at really fine work, like turbine
blades.
 Yes, Chief Engineer. Justen grinned.  Do you want to help me with the&
fine work?
 Justen, your work there probably isn t that fine. Her lips quirked before
she turned toward Nicos and Clerve. The apprentice set down his hammer as the
chief engineer approached and passed him.
When the metal sections in the forge began to glow even brighter than the
cherry red needed for fullering, Justen let his perceptions wash over the
metal, waiting until the temperature eased slightly higher. Then he swung both
pieces into position and completed the scarfing before the metal cooled.
Following that, he slipped the sections back into the forge. After watching
and adjusting the sections through another reheating, waiting as the iron
reached even higher temperatures, he replaced them on the anvil and with three
even strokes of the hammer, completed the first weld.
The sun was still above the horizon, if only by a few hands, when at last
he left the smithy, washed, and changed.
Gunnar and Krytella sat on stools on the narrow porch of the old farmhouse
that the healers-and Gunnar-shared. The engineers, Justen reflected, had the
dubious privilege of smaller, if newer, cubicles in the roughly constructed
barracks provided by the Tyrant. In the rain, all the rooms smelled of the
stable at the north end.
 Sorry, Justen offered as he stopped at the bottom step.  The braces took
longer. Most iron work does, I think.
 No matter. Got your weekly pay? asked Gunnar.
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 All five pennies worth? That won t go far. The Tyrant is so generous& 
 We re supposed to be helping them, not behaving like mercenaries for
hire. Krytella stood and adjusted her belt, the green tunic, and the knife.
She also carried a short staff, half the length of the black one Justen had
left in his room.
 I sometimes think help means different things to different people. Gunnar
climbed off the stool, which rocked on the warped and uneven planks until he
put out a hand to steady it.
 It s a long walk. Justen s eyes flicked from the dusty road up the hill
toward the granite walls of Sarron, shaded even more toward the pink by the
late-afternoon sun.
 It s better to leave the horses here, and you could use the exercise,
anyway. Gunnar headed toward the road.
 You haven t been hammering heavy iron all day.
 I rode out past the Klynstatt Marshes and spent half the day grubbing
through the ironwood forests.
 Would you two stop trying to convince each other that you had the harder
day? Krytella stopped at the edge of the road to let a horse cart pass.
 Men& they re all the same. The driver, a flaxen-haired older woman,
grinned at the healer, then flicked the reins, and the cart full of rushes
wobbled past the three, the left axle squealing so painfully that Justen
winced at the lack of order in even that simple mechanical device.
 You can sense disorder in machines as well as healers do  in people.
Gunnar pulled at his chin as he resumed his long strides uphill.
 At times. Justen shrugged his shoulders, trying to relieve some of their
tightness.
By the time the three reached the stone causeway leading to the walls, they
were damp from the effort and the humid air.
The sentry studied the two men in black and the woman in green.  Recluce
types? From down there? He gestured down the long incline toward the Recluce
enclave, whose roofs just peeked above a grassy hill.
 Yes. Gunnar smiled politely.  We ve never been in a city this large and
prosperous.
The woman in stark, dark-blue leathers ignored Gunnar and turned toward the
healer.  Where are you bound?
Krytella swallowed and then grinned.  To the market. The boys have never
seen a real market. Then for a good dinner. Is there anyplace you d
recommend?
 Any of the taverns off the traders square are pretty good& except for the
Brass Bull. I wouldn t take two nice young fellows there.
 The square? Is that just off-
 Take the main way until you get to the Guard barracks. The traders square
is just past there to the left. The sentry stepped back and motioned them on.
 Take care of those two, lady. We don t want trouble here. She nodded to
Krytella as die three passed.
 I m beginning to understand why Creslin didn t think much about the idea
of coming to Sarronnyn. Justen grinned.
 Or why he worried about being tied up with a redhead? asked Gunnar.
Krytella blushed. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]