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Genre - Historical Fiction
Rating - PG13
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Miners, grimy and stooped,
returned in the gathering dusk to the settlement huts beyond. As Gebann greeted
passing men by name, Cian related messages to certain weary miners.
Gebann asked if the cloud of dust covered the Boyne at
the past spring, and they talked about its aftermath, the brilliant sunsets and
stunted growth. When he asked about the Starwatcher woman who married Elcmar,
it was the lad’s turn to give clipped answers. Gebann glanced over at the
smelting activity. “We could sit farther away from the smoke. I see it doesn’t
agree with you.”
Not knowing if he might have private access to the great
smith again, Cian risked asking questions. He asked first about the stone molds
he’d seen used to pour copper axeheads and simple tools.
“You know that I carve in stone. The molds for the axes—how
are those made?”
Gebann sat back, big hands splayed on his knees, and eyed
Cian. This was probing of secrets, the deep secrets of the metals known by very
few in all the world. Information that this Starwatcher is not privileged to
have. Not just yet. But the time may come. This quiet lad’s got the fire in
him, as sure as the sun will rise again. Perhaps this Cian had a fight
coming; let it be with Elcmar.
The smith reached for an axe mold, its flat hollow for
the axe carved into solid rock. His stocky forefinger jabbed at the smooth,
symmetrical outline for the axehead. “See that? We trace the shape of a folded
leaf onto stone, that way the axe is exactly the same along both halves east to
west. You would know how to do it yourself, lad. Now heft this axe in your
hand. It’s heavy for the size, isn’t it?”
Cian nodded as Gebann gave him a new copper axehead to
hold.
“We
can adjust the axe size with different molds. The crucible holds what a man is
capable of pouring while the metal is hot. Once the mold is filled, we quickly
lay on the cover.” He handed Cian the mold cover, flat on both sides, then Cian
noticed slight tunnels routed into its ends.
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