Hunt of the Bandham (The Bowl of Souls: Book Three) by Trevor H. Cooley

Author:Trevor H. Cooley [Cooley, Trevor H.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2012-09-07T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty Two

Justan could hear the two of them from quite a distance away.

“It won’t work, I tell you!” the half-orc was yelling.

“Dag-blast it, Bettie! I was doin’ this fer decades before you was even born. It’ll work I say!”

Justan stopped in the doorway to the forge and waited a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dimmer light. The tall and fearsome Bettie was glaring at Lenny and shaking a fist at him with such force that it caused the muscles in her sculpted arms to flex quite impressively. Her slightly green-tinted skin gleamed in the forgelight.

“Not like that it won’t, you goblin brain you!” she shouted. “You’ll blow the damn horse up!”

“It’ll work!” Lenny stood a few feet away with his feet planted and arms crossed in firm defiance. A very uncomfortable looking Benjo stood between them holding a beautifully constructed saddle.

Justan cleared his throat and both combatants turned their glares on him. Ignoring their glares, he walked up to Benjo and examined the saddle, his presence diffusing the argument for the moment. It wasn’t hard to pretend to ignore the tension in the air. The saddle was exquisitely crafted.

“This leatherwork is fantastic,” Justan said.

“I made it, Sir Edge,” Benjo said with pride.

“Really?” Justan said. “I am truly impressed.”

Justan was impressed by a lot of what Benjo had done lately. Master Coal had told him that Benjo had confessed what really happened during his time at the Training School. Since then, Benjo acted like a completely different person. No longer carrying the burden of his guilt, the man was quick with a smile and a laugh. He had started sparring with Justan in the evenings and he was really good. It was a shame that he had been kept out of the academy because of Kenn.

“The man’s a natural with the leather, son,” Lenny added. “And he’s a durn quick worker too. All the dag-gum farmers in the area are runnin’ around with harnesses and tool belts that’d fetch a fine price at any decent shop in Dremald.”

“Thank you, sir,” Benjo said, smiling at the praise.

“Ehh! He’s okay,” Bettie said. “Maybe in a few years he could even catch up and be almost as good as me. He’s already more creative with the trim.”

“Oh I could never, Bettie.” Benjo was blushing now. “You are a master.”

“So if this is Benjo’s work, what were the two of you arguing about then?” Justan asked.

“Dwarf’s in to killing horses,” Bettie replied.

“Yeah, and the half-orc’s as ignorant as a full-orc!” Lenny snapped, then said to Justan, “I want to improve on her magic saddles by workin’ some rune metal in, but she don’t think it’ll work.”

“It won’t!” she barked.

“She makes magic saddles?

Lenny sighed. “Yeah, she’s stubborner than a mule, but son, the lady makes saddles that can sing.”

“Darn right,” she agreed.

“But how?”

“Yer Master Coal magics-up the leather fer her and she can use runes to shape the magic, kind of like I do with steel. Now, the magic ain’t as strong

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