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cut, when you try to order the metal into black iron, the order bonds don t
match and you have to tear the whole thing apart. That s why it took ten years
to build the Dylyss.
Clerve shook his head.  Just because they used shears?
 No& because they used violence to cut the metal. There s a difference
between force and violence.
 Teaching again, Justen? Here in the engineering hall? Altara stood behind
Clerve, who stepped aside with an averted glance.
Justen blushed.
Altara smiled at Clerve.  I don t eat apprentices, Clerve. Really, I don t.
Nibble perhaps.
Clerve, in turn, blushed.
 You can take a break. Justen nodded at the apprentice.
 Are you where you can stop? asked the master engineer.
Justen nodded.  It s slow going.
 Most engineering is.
The two engineers watched as Clerve trudged toward the side porch, where
both a breeze and the water spigot provided cooling and where the apprentices
usually gathered.
 Have you thought about joining the engineering group that s going to
Sarronnyn? asked Altara.
.  No. Justen blinked, trying to dislodge a speck of grit from his left
eye.
 Do you want to come with us? asked Altara.
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Justen looked at the thin-faced master engineer with the muscular shoulders
and dancing green eyes.  Why are you going? Dorrin couldn t stop the Whites.
How do you think you can?
 Do you want to sit around Nylan for the rest of your life mooning after
Krytella while she hunts down Gunnar? Altara grinned and waited.
 Hunts down? You make her seem like a mountain cat. Justen felt himself
flush again, and not from the heat of the forges.
 I know women, Justen. After all, I am one, you know.
 You don t let most of us forget it. He managed a grin.  That s what I
like about you. You can say something like that and it doesn t sound nasty.
You almost-almost-make it sound like a compliment. I also enjoyed your little
match with Firbek.
 How s the arm?
 Still a bit sore. Altara paused.  Why didn t you join the marines? You re
certainly officer material, and you re the kind that people would follow.
 You know what I think about hand weapons.
 I know. Altara sighed.  That s one of the few things I think you re wrong
about.
 Why?
She gestured around the engineering hall.  We re cheating on Dorrin. We
still have only ten ships-except that we don t. We have eleven for purposes of
the Balance. And if you-Have you ever compared the size and tonnage of the
Black Hammer?
 How could I? I m not a master engineer with access to the most venerable
records.
 Sorry. Well, take my word for it. The new Hyel will displace nearly three
times what the original Black Hammer did.
 I don t see Chaos Wizards sprouting all over Candar, observed Justen.
 No& just an Iron Guard with twice the strength of our marines, plus the
Whites, both of them overrunning Sarronnyn, and our beloved Council suggesting
that volunteers to help the beleaguered Sarronnese would be in order. Altara
shrugged.  I d be pleased if you d think about it; She smiled politely though
not warmly, as she headed toward Warm and his milling machine.
Justen took a deep breath. Did he really have a choice& if he wanted to
stay an engineer? He trudged after Clerve to get a drink of water himself, and
to reclaim his apprentice.
XIV
Severa handed over the leather post bag to a young man Jus-ten did not
know, apparently old Hawy s replacement as the local post agent. Justen
slipped down from the damp leather of the post wagon s seat and stood beside
the wagon, trying to use his limited order-senses to remove the moisture from
the seat of his trousers. Finally, he shook the rain off his oiled waterproof
and lifted his pack out of the wagon bed behind the second seat.
Gunnar was dry-somehow, rain never landed on Weather Wizards, even though
none of them ever talked about it. At least Gunnar s pack had a sprinkling of
water on the canvas. Gunnar brushed away the droplets before swinging the pack
onto his back.
 Thank you. Justen handed two coppers to Severa.
 My pleasure, young magisters. The wagon-mistress s face crinkled into a
smile.  I hope you will enjoy your holiday, and give your mother my
greetings.
Justen nodded.
 Perhaps someday you ll be as good a smith as she is. Severa s smile faded
into mere politeness as Gunnar extended his coppers.
 Thank you, Gunnar said, and inclined his head.
 Just don t take yourself too seriously, Gunnar. You may be the finest
Storm Wizard since Creslin, but a good smith s of more use to most than either
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an engineer or a wizard.
 Yes, Severa.
The woman grinned.  Don t mind me, boys. Been riding wagons too long. Off
with you! She watched as the post youth placed another leather post bag with
the half-dozen already in the wagon bed.
Gunnar waved, turned, and started walking. Justen paused, taking in the
town for a moment. Not much changed in Wandernaught. Severa had stopped at the
post house, next to The Broken Wheel, a two-story stone - and - timber
structure, and the only inn. Old Hernon had died right after Justen had gone
to Nylan, and Justen didn t know the couple who ran the inn now, but the
facade and sign were the same-even down to the cracked spokes on the broken
wagon wheel.
A young woman and a child stood under the small awning outside the
coppersmith s, waiting for the gentle rain to stop, and two men wrestled
barrels from a wagon into Basta s Dry and Leather Goods.
Justen shifted his pack, stretched his legs, and began to walk on the
rain-slicked but level paving stones-west, past the inn, past Seldit s copper
shop. He didn t catch up with Gunnar until they were out of town and abreast
of Shrezsan s, the house-with its attached barn-sitting next to the stream
where the family had woven wool and linen for generations.
Actually, Justen recalled with a smile, Shrezsan had been one of the few
girls who had liked him better than she did Gunnar-even if she finally had
married Yousal, in the Temple no less.
On the south side of the road rose the gentle, rolling hills that held the
groves: cherry, apple, and pearapple. The rain had not quite stripped the
flowers from the branches, which still held thin green leaves.
Gunnar slowed and crossed the road, putting a leg up on the low stone wall
separating the grass on the road s shoulder from the orchard grounds.
Justen waited, brushing water from his short hair.
 I think I miss the groves the most. Even the pearapples in Land s End
aren t the same. Gunnar stroked his bare chin.  Wandemaught s a better place
than either Nylan or Land s End. It s peaceful.
 I suppose you d put a big temple here, and move the Council to
Wandernaught. Gunnar smiled.  Why not? Maybe I will.
Justen swallowed. Did Gunnar really think he was going to be on the
Council?
The blond man sighed and turned back to the road.  Elisabet s already
getting worried.
Justen wondered how Gunnar knew that. Did he feel it?
The two resumed walking. They reached the fork in the road and took the
left branch. The timbered, black-stone and slate-tiled house stood on the
south side of the road, the smithy behind it in a separate building. Two small
groves flanked the buildings. A wiry figure in brown waved from the base of a
tree and began to walk toward the house.
 Gunnar! Justen! Mother! They re here. Elisabet bounced off the wide porch
and down the crisply cut stones of the walk. She threw her arms around Justen, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]