Page 64 of Warrior of the Wild
I thought they weren’t friends anymore. Iric blames Soren for his banishment. He acts as though he hates him some of the time. Is it all an act?
“If Soren wishes to help us, then we can help him in return as well,” I say. Provided he can find a way to make himself useful to me and my mattugr, that is.
Iric nods. “I will… think on all of this.”
He will?
Inside, I’m exploding, but I keep a smile from my face. “All right.”
Iric returns the hammer to the table.
“I can’t believe you’ve made all of this,” I say, taking in the forge again. “How is it that you trained to be a smithy your whole life, but then the elders let you take the warrior trial?”
“How do you do it in your village?” he asks.
“At the age of eight, we pick a trade. We train for that trade until we’re eighteen. Then we take the trial.”
“Ah. In Restin, we do not need to declare a trade until fifteen. We’re permitted to try all the trades, to train with any we might consider while growing up. We can switch at any time.”
“That doesn’t seem like it would produce adults talented in anything.”
Iric gives me a look like I’m stupid. “Raz, it produces adults with some talent ineverything. How else would Soren and I have survived if we didn’t know how to hunt, how to build, how to make our own clothing?”
“You’re right. That was a careless thing to say.” After all, I wasgroomed for leadership for most of my life, and I was always terrible at it. “Where did you get all of these? Surely you couldn’t have made all of this in the wild?”
“No. There’s a trash heap outside of Restin’s borders. Each time I go to retrieve one of Aros’s letters, I stop by and look for anything useful.”
“Is that where the window in the tree house came from?” It would explain why it was cracked.
“Yes. I’ve been able to repair most of the damaged tools I found while picking through the waste. I discovered a coal deposit not far from here, which serves as steady fuel for fire. Remember, I’ve had a year to make all of this. It didn’t happen overnight.”
“Doesn’t matter. I think it’s brilliant.”
“We’ll see how brilliant you find it after I’ve got you hammering for an hour.”
I can’t actually help with any of the hammering. Just gripping one of the tools has my stomach protesting. I had never realized how connected everything is to the abdomen. Breathing. Walking. Even holding things.
But I watch Iric work. I learn. Iric heats up metal until it is glowing red. He pounds it into shape. He pulls buckets of water from the nearby stream to the forge to cool the metal quickly.
It’s fascinating work to watch.
Honestly, I believe it is a shame that Restin is being deprived of such a talented smithy.
CHAPTER
13
Either Soren doesn’t do nearly as much work as Iric does around here, or he’s suddenly become much quicker at doing it, because he always seems to finish first and find time to come bother me.
Sorry,keep me company.
“Are you hungry?” he asks a few days later.
I look pointedly toward the bucket of berries next to me. “No.”
“Are you cold? I can get you another blanket.”
The sunshine from the window warms my cheeks, and a small fire in the hearth keeps the tree house a perfect temperature. “No.”
