Warcry

was a runner,” Heath said as he guided Atira around the counter. “I’d bring blades and buckles to be fixed, and pick them up when they were done. Ismari and her brother Dunstan never minded me squeezing into their table to grab a bite.”
    Heath held open the door and let Atira go first. “Of course, I had to push through the apprentices to get anything worth eating.”
    “That never stopped you from reaching for the biggest piece!” Nathan protested, and they both shared a laugh as they entered the forge.
    Heath almost ran right into Atira, standing dumbstruck, staring at the men laboring over red hot metal.

    IT WAS AS IF ALL THE ELEMENTS DANCED AT THE big man’s command.
    The heat hit her first, like a blow to the face—heat so hot, it dried the sweat that formed. Atira breathed in, tasting the acrid tang in the air.
    The room was huge, with stone walls and a high-vaulted ceiling. Heavy wooden beams arched over the room. There were clusters of men and boys around the walls, working at tables. The noise was as loud as any battle. Each group seemed to be working on something, but Atira’s eyes were drawn to the ones in the center.
    The heat came from the middle of the room, where a circular stone ring sat, covered by an arched dome. She could see flame flickering within the openings. A young man worked some sort of odd wood-and-leather thing up and down, and the fire at the center danced in response, crackling and swaying with his movements.
    “That’s the fire that Dunstan uses to heat the metal.” Heath raised his voice to be heard over the noise. “The apprentice works the bellows, see? It keeps the fire at the right heat.” Heath pointed to three men, working close by the fire. “See the anvil? That large metal piece there?”
    “What are they doing?” Atira asked.
    “Watch,” Ismari said.
    Nathan set aside his sword and advanced to stand near Dunstan, gesturing back in their direction. Dunstan looked over and flashed a grin, but returned to his work.
    One man was holding something in the fire. He pulled out a long length of glowing, orange metal. Dunstan and the other man held hammers and tongs. As the metal hit the anvil, it started to change from a fiery orange to a sullen red.
    Dunstan grabbed the metal with the tongs and bent it over on itself. The other man started to tap it with the hammer, beating the red-hot metal in on itself with a strong, regular beat.
    The men worked as if they were dancing to the rhythm of the hammers, never speaking to one another, each moving precisely, folding the metal over and over. Finally, the huge one backed off. “That’s it for now, lads.” He picked up the piece of metal, now barely glowing, and thrust it into a barrel that stood close by. Steam whooshed up, and he withdrew the piece, looking it over with a critical eye.
    “Death of fire, birth of earth,” Atira chanted softly, staring wide-eyed at the forge.
    “Dunstan,” Ismari called, and Atira started, having forgotten everything but the forging. “Heath has come and brought a Plains warrior with him.”
    That got everyone’s attention, and heads turned in her direction. The huge man walked over with a big smile on his face. “Heath, lad! It’s good to see you.” Dunstan clapped Heath’s shoulder.
    “Dunstan, meet Atira of the Bear, warrior of the Plains.” Heath gestured, and Dunstan turned and smiled at Atira.
    “I want to do that,” Atira blurted out.
    Dunstan roared out a laugh. “Ah, lady, that has to be earned. I don’t let any but my journeymen aid me in the forging of a blade.”
    “They’ve come for the rings,” Ismari said. “And I’ve asked them to stay for the mid-meal. Wash up now,” she called out to the others as they started to put their tools away.
    The men and boys scrambled to obey, moving quickly. Two of the youngest ran to open two huge doors at the back of the room, letting cooler air and sun into the area. Atira had to blink to see past the brightness. There was a small courtyard out there, with a well.
    “What’s that, then? A new way to work a blade?” Heath asked as they headed toward the back.
    “Aye,” Dunstan said. “Not sure that it will work or not, but I think the idea is sound. Give me a minute to wash up, and we’ll talk over the meal.” He paused, his eyes twinkling. “Besides, what’s this I hear of opening the old trade routes?”
    Heath shook his head in admiration. “Now, how did you learn of that so fast?”
    Dunstan