Read Online Call of the Herald by Brian Rathbone - Free Book Online

to Roset.
She still lives in a land of buttercups and faeries; maybe she
could make you feel better."
    "She won't even talk to me," Chase said, his
mood continuing to be dour in the face of Strom's humor.
    "You see? You're utterly powerless. Therefore
you can't possibly be at fault. Doesn't that make you feel
better?"
    "If I said yes, would you stop talking about
it?" Chase asked.
    "Probably not."
     
    * * *
     
    Catrin spent the next few weeks throwing
herself into every task her father assigned. Master Edling did not
return, despite her father's many requests. Benjin and her father
did what they could to teach her, but what they remembered of their
own lessons was fragmented and disjointed. Catrin learned other
things from the extra time she was spending on the farm. Benjin
taught her the basics of shoeing horses along with other farrier
skills. She was an apt student and excelled with little practice.
It interested her because she loved horses, and they had always
been part of her daily life. She had seen it done a hundred times,
which helped her to quickly master even the most difficult
techniques.
    Forge and anvil became outlets for her
frustration. She coerced the hot bars into the desired form,
shaping them with her will. The song of the hammer and anvil
soothed her, and she quickly replenished their supply of
horseshoes. Benjin also taught her to make shoeing nails, whose
shape was critical. Wide heads prevented the shoe from slipping
over the nails, while the tapered edges prevented injuries by
forcing the nail to turn outward to the edge of the hoof against
the taper.
    As long as a farrier is careful not to drive
one backward, the nail will always poke back out of the hoof, a
finger's width above the shoe. The farrier would clip most of the
tip of the nail then crimp the remains against the hoof. The
technique provided a secure fit and better protection from sprung
shoes.
    "A horse will always spring a shoe at the
worst possible moment, and it's good to know how to handle it,"
Benjin said. "You seem to handle the hammer well. Would you like to
make a farrier's kit?" he asked. Catrin was delighted with the
idea.
    The hours she spent at the forge with Benjin
were the only times she forgot her worries. Using tools to create
new tools enthralled her, and she was immensely proud of her new
implements. In a way, they brought her freedom. There were always
coppers to be made shoeing horses and trimming hooves at local
farms, and the knowledge that she could earn her own way was
comforting. She would take pride in whatever work she did with
them. Smiling, she tucked them into her saddlebags with care.
    The weather was becoming unusually volatile,
and intense storms confined Catrin to the barn or the cottage much
of the time. Clear skies could quickly turn dark and foreboding,
and fierce winds drove the rain. One afternoon, the sky was an
eerie shade of green, like nothing she had ever seen before. Hail
made her run for cover, each stone growing in size as she ran, some
even larger than her fist. Benjin and her father sprinted into the
barn just behind her.
    Wind howled so fiercely through the valley
that it lifted a hay wagon into the air and over a fence,
depositing it, unharmed, in a pasture. When the storm passed, they
checked for damage. Catrin helped her father and Benjin repair the
roofs on the cottage and barn. The chicken coop had also suffered
damage, but Benjin mended it quickly.
    Abe Waldac, a local cattleman, drove his
wagon behind a team of mules to the front of the barn. "Anyone
hurt?"
    "Luck was with us, Abe. We're fine. Thank you
for checking on us, though. It's much appreciated," her father
replied.
    "You've always been good neighbors. I'm glad
to see you all well. A funnel cloud ripped through the lowlands;
looks like it made a boiling mess of things. I'm going to see if
anyone needs help."
    "We'll go with you. I'm sure they could use
some extra hands down there. Catrin, you stay here and mind the
farm.