Ties of Blood and Silver by Joel Rosenberg

Author:Joel Rosenberg
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-04-28T18:01:06+00:00

of course—<and ryvathkstak, the fear-of-oncoming-death. Were I to feel ryvathkstak, others of the schtann would hear me, would come to my aid. Cherat was how I called Hrotisft when I heard you in this outer room. I had intended to deal with you myself, but there was that flash of what might have been cherat. So I called Hrotisft. I could have called the whole schtann, but…>

"You didn't figure to need more than one other to help you chain a human. Maybe you should have called for more," I said, eyeing the knife.

<It was not necessary. You have rested enough, try again. > I took up the hammer and hit the disk again, not denting it as much as Eschteef had.

<Better. But strike more firmly. Your purpose is to mold the metal, not simply to attract its attention.> As I kept banging at the disk, it kept talking. <If you can become part of the schtann, you will always feel cherat with the others, appreciate the work of their hands, feel their love for the work of yours. When you can do work worth loving. Not this.>

Eschteef took the battered disk from me and began to shape it with its own hammer. <If this is the best you can do, I will have to sell you and the brooch to Amos van Ingstrand. This is not the work of even a youngling member of the schtann. Observe."

In a few moments, it had shaped the battered disk into a round-bottomed bowl, covered with the scaling of the indentations of the hammer strikes. Working with another form, it bent the lip inward, curling it over.

<You see? So now we have a bowl. We may inscribe its sides, or flatten the bottom as a base, or make a separate base and weld it on. I think we will both flatten the bottom and then inscribe it—but first, we shall place it in the oven, to smooth the marks from its side. We will have done this together, little one.> Eschteef's hand was oddly clumsy as it patted me on the head. <And when you can do this all by yourself, drinking in the beauty of the work and the working, sharing that with others… you will be part of your schtann. You will not be so alone anymore.>

I nodded. Not that I meant it. Everyone is always alone. If someone feeds you, it's because he wants you to steal for him, or he wants to bugger you. If someone smiles up at you, trusts you, looks up to you, you come home to find her dead. Or worse.

Eschteef lit the finishing oven and set a pot on top of it. <You may use my spoon and eating prong today.

But you must make your own bowl—if you wish to eat.> It pointed a claw at the stack of silver disks.

<Begin.>

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