Read Online Devlin's Luck by Patricia Bray - Free Book Online Page B

the axe was bound up with his life. Seeing it, he could not help but remember the pride he had felt when first he forged the axe head, and set the blade on a helve. But that pride was overshadowed by the memory of all that had happened since that day, and of all that he had lost.
    He stared at it, fighting the urge to toss the axe into the forge fire and to witness it burn into oblivion.
    “That’s an unusual design,” Master Timo observed.
    “It was meant for wood, once.” Then feeling something more should be said, he added, “Your apprentice has fine tools.”
    Every smith made his own tools, starting as an apprentice. And the tools Devlin had used showed the quality of a journeyman, at least.
    The smith beamed with pleasure. “He should. He’s my son. He’ll be a master himself, one day.”
    Devlin knew he should leave, but he did not. For all the strangeness of the wood building, it was indeed a forge, and it was the only place in this strange city that had the feel of home.
    He glanced over at the racks of iron and steel bars.
    “I need some bolts, as well. I would make my own, if you would let me pay you for the steel.” He did not really need the bolts. He had a half dozen bolts in his pack, and as Chosen One could easily requisition whatever else he desired. What he needed was not the bolts, but to remember that once he had been something more than he was now.
    “How many do you need?”
    “A dozen should do. Steel, not iron, if you can spare it.”
    “All our weapons are made of steel,” Master Timo said firmly. “I keep the iron for horseshoes and the like. Make a dozen for yourself, and four dozen for me, and we will call it a fair exchange.”
    “Agreed.” Devlin selected two bars of steel from the rack, then placed them in the fire bed to heat. He used the opportunity to study the bolts that were set on the shelves near the door, noting that they were the same design he was familiar with, but longer by a good handspan. He brought one back to the bench to use as a pattern.
    The steel was glowing red. He pumped the bellows till the fire was roaring. When the steel bar had turned white with heat he removed it from the fire and began to work. His body remembered his craft, and his arm swung with its old rhythm. Soon he was lost in his work, his mind shutting away all thoughts save those of the steel, and of the task before him.
    Long unused to such work, the muscles in his back began to ache and then to burn. He ignored them, as he ignored the sweat that rolled off his body, pausing only to strip off his shirt. With each stroke of the hammer, sparks flew, and the metal rang in a sweet song that he had not known how much he had missed until he heard it anew.
    It had been years since he had performed such simple craft, and yet his movements were swift and sure. He made the first dozen bolts for himself, as practice, and then began to work on the ones he had promised the smith.
    Captain Drakken entered the forge, her eyes blinking as she made the transition from bright sunlight to the dimness inside. She saw Master Timo at once. He had a dagger and a sharpening stone in his hands, but it was clear that all his attention was on the apprentice at work in the corner.
    Master Timo nodded as he saw her but did not speak. With a jerk of his head he directed her attention to the other occupant of the forge.
    As her eyes adjusted she realized that the man at work was too large and well muscled to be Master Timo’s son. And then she saw something that made her blink, and then blink again.
    Terrible white scars ran down the length of the man’s back. As he swung the hammer, she could see that the scars extended across his left side and chest. She did not know what manner of beast could have made those marks, save that it must have been larger than any creature she had ever heard of.
    She had seen her share of deadly wounds, in the days before the King had confined the Guard to patrolling the city. But never