Modesitt, L.E. - The Saga of Recluce 04 - The Order War by Modesitt L.E

Author:Modesitt, L.E.
Language: eng
Format: epub

LXXXI

"Yual needs to meet you. He is waiting for you. Besides, I have work to do, and so do you."

Dayala took Justen by the arm and walked with him out to the road. "You remember the directions?"

"Over two bridges and past the splintered oak. Then take the uphill lane to the clearing." Justen grinned. "Is it safe? I mean, for a near-child like me to wander around alone?"

"As long as you don't order-probe all over Naclos. Besides, not much happens around Yual."

"I get the feeling that you very much want me to meet him."

"I do."

"Why?"

"Because." Dayala grinned. "You need to work with your hands, not just with your mind. I see you twitch, and your body needs that work."

"Ail right, most excellent druid. I bow to your knowledge." His fingers brushed, hers, and their eyes locked for a moment Impossibly deep were those green eyes, and for a timeless moment, Justen could neither move nor speak.

"Justen ..." *...need to go...*

He shook himself like a wet water cat. "I'm going. It's off to Yual's I go."

He could feel Dayala's eyes on his back until he had walked around the first curve in the road and out of her sight.

Yual's holding sat on a low hill. Around the hill grew none of the monoliths. Gray, thick clouds scudded above the forest, and a heavy rain pelted onto the hillside and against the two buildings crouched there. The house and the smithy were the first structures Justen had seen within the great forest that were not grown by some tree or another.

Justen shrugged and walked out from the high canopy into the rain and up the stone-paved lane toward the smithy.

Like every door in Naclos, the door to the smithy was open, and Justen stepped inside. There he waited until the silver-haired man reached a stopping point and set the rough-forged blade on the forge shelf to anneal. Then Justen stepped forward.

"You must be Justen." The smith's eyes were not green, surprisingly, but a clear brown that seemed just as piercing as the green eyes of the other Naclans. He smiled broadly. "Dayala said you would be here, and I was hoping that you would come. My forge is yours."

"You're too kind." The younger engineer bowed.

"I am not kind at all. I am hopeful. So few in Naclos pursue smithing, and it has been more than many years since an outside smith has come this deep into the great forest."

"I bring no tools . . ."

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"I have a few extra ones, and you may borrow as necessary to forge what you need."

Justen glanced around, from the ubiquitous anvil to a second, smaller anvil, at the great bellows, albeit curved differently, and at the hammers and tongs, racked neatly in two stands.

From the forge came the gentle heat of charcoal.

"Charcoal?"

"Even in the great forest, trees die."

"Andiron?"

"There is enough in the bogs." Yual gave a wry smile. "Those of us in Naclos use little iron compared to Sarronnyn.

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