curses continued as he tethered the end to a log by the fire. After testing the knots, Korendir climbed into a tree overlooking Anthei’s garden. There he remained, though Haldeth screamed abuse at him for the remainder of the night.
Silence returned with the sunrise. Beyond the wall, where the gelding had leaped, the new morning revealed shrubbery festooned with gobbets of flesh. The path was splattered scarlet for yards in each direction, and not so much as a sliver of bone remained of the equine victim of the carnage. Korendir removed a gaze cold as ice from the garden. He lowered himself to the ground and guardedly approached the ash of last night’s fire.
Haldeth lay asleep. Torn earth at his hands and feet told of exhaustive struggles to free himself. Korendir bent to check the frayed cord at his wrists, and roused by that slight movement, Haldeth stirred. He attempted to rise and gagged, jerked up short by the belt.
The smith let his head fall back. “Great Neth,” he murmured. Lucid at last, and afflicted with a misery of aches, he focused on his companion. Beneath the soot which smudged cheek and forehead, Korendir’s skin was raw with burns; absent was the grim expression, replaced by an intense compassion. Haldeth caught his breath, and as if startled by that slight sound, Korendir turned sharply away.
Unsure whether the moment’s revelation had been supplied by his own imagination, Haldeth spoke gruffly. “Neth, lad, you’re a sight to make a young maid faint. You’ll scar badly unless you tend those cuts.”
“Stay clear of Anthei’s gates, and I’ll try.” Korendir yanked the stake from the ground. All businesslike efficiency, he loosened the belt and set his hands to the knots restraining Haldeth’s wrists. “Have you any more barley flour?”
Still prone, Haldeth gestured at the satchel left beside the dead embers of the fire. While Korendir tossed away the hackamore string and busied himself with the contents, Haldeth worked the bindings from his feet.
The smith sat up. Wincing from stiffened muscles, he accepted barley gruel from fingers as marked as his own and said, “What do you plan to do?”
Korendir never looked up. “Avenge Snail.” The words left no space for compromise. Finished with eating, he vanished beyond the dunes, and later reappeared with a clean face. For an interval after that he stared at Anthei’s tower, the agate walls now innocently mellowed under sunlight. At length he retrieved his belt.
“I have a task for you,” he said to Haldeth as he cinched the buckle at his waist. “Half a league back lies an abandoned forge. Would you go there and make a fire hot enough for tinker’s work?”
Affronted, Haldeth set his bowl aside. “Better you asked whether any tools remain for my use.”
“The Blight will have warped them, I expect.” Korendir bent and adjusted his boots. “I’ll come at noon. Wait for me, and try not to crush your great thumbs under any hammers.”
Haldeth took a swipe at him. Korendir ducked clear and with maddening purpose strode off into trackless bracken. His companion stared after, and only then realized he had neglected to ask what Korendir wished him to forge.
“Arrogant get of a sow!” Haldeth yelled. “What idiocy are you about?”
But Korendir had vanished beyond earshot into the scrub behind the dunes.
* * *
Shivering beneath mouldering thatch, Haldeth bent over the firepit in the abandoned smithy and coaxed damp kindling into coals. He cursed steadily in monologue, and did not see Korendir enter, laden with rusted ironware. Looted without discrimination from the surrounding farmsteads, the collection included anything from chipped axe blades to punctured buckets. Warned by a metallic clank, Haldeth looked up in time to cringe; Korendir unburdened his load with an ear-jarring crash just beyond the threshold. He ignored the smith’s yelp of annoyance, but moved to the canted work table and laid out his other
Silence returned with the sunrise. Beyond the wall, where the gelding had leaped, the new morning revealed shrubbery festooned with gobbets of flesh. The path was splattered scarlet for yards in each direction, and not so much as a sliver of bone remained of the equine victim of the carnage. Korendir removed a gaze cold as ice from the garden. He lowered himself to the ground and guardedly approached the ash of last night’s fire.
Haldeth lay asleep. Torn earth at his hands and feet told of exhaustive struggles to free himself. Korendir bent to check the frayed cord at his wrists, and roused by that slight movement, Haldeth stirred. He attempted to rise and gagged, jerked up short by the belt.
The smith let his head fall back. “Great Neth,” he murmured. Lucid at last, and afflicted with a misery of aches, he focused on his companion. Beneath the soot which smudged cheek and forehead, Korendir’s skin was raw with burns; absent was the grim expression, replaced by an intense compassion. Haldeth caught his breath, and as if startled by that slight sound, Korendir turned sharply away.
Unsure whether the moment’s revelation had been supplied by his own imagination, Haldeth spoke gruffly. “Neth, lad, you’re a sight to make a young maid faint. You’ll scar badly unless you tend those cuts.”
“Stay clear of Anthei’s gates, and I’ll try.” Korendir yanked the stake from the ground. All businesslike efficiency, he loosened the belt and set his hands to the knots restraining Haldeth’s wrists. “Have you any more barley flour?”
Still prone, Haldeth gestured at the satchel left beside the dead embers of the fire. While Korendir tossed away the hackamore string and busied himself with the contents, Haldeth worked the bindings from his feet.
The smith sat up. Wincing from stiffened muscles, he accepted barley gruel from fingers as marked as his own and said, “What do you plan to do?”
Korendir never looked up. “Avenge Snail.” The words left no space for compromise. Finished with eating, he vanished beyond the dunes, and later reappeared with a clean face. For an interval after that he stared at Anthei’s tower, the agate walls now innocently mellowed under sunlight. At length he retrieved his belt.
“I have a task for you,” he said to Haldeth as he cinched the buckle at his waist. “Half a league back lies an abandoned forge. Would you go there and make a fire hot enough for tinker’s work?”
Affronted, Haldeth set his bowl aside. “Better you asked whether any tools remain for my use.”
“The Blight will have warped them, I expect.” Korendir bent and adjusted his boots. “I’ll come at noon. Wait for me, and try not to crush your great thumbs under any hammers.”
Haldeth took a swipe at him. Korendir ducked clear and with maddening purpose strode off into trackless bracken. His companion stared after, and only then realized he had neglected to ask what Korendir wished him to forge.
“Arrogant get of a sow!” Haldeth yelled. “What idiocy are you about?”
But Korendir had vanished beyond earshot into the scrub behind the dunes.
* * *
Shivering beneath mouldering thatch, Haldeth bent over the firepit in the abandoned smithy and coaxed damp kindling into coals. He cursed steadily in monologue, and did not see Korendir enter, laden with rusted ironware. Looted without discrimination from the surrounding farmsteads, the collection included anything from chipped axe blades to punctured buckets. Warned by a metallic clank, Haldeth looked up in time to cringe; Korendir unburdened his load with an ear-jarring crash just beyond the threshold. He ignored the smith’s yelp of annoyance, but moved to the canted work table and laid out his other
Similar Books
