A Hollow Mountain (The Brightest Shadow Book 2), page 71
More importantly, he dreaded the day when they finally attacked the mine. They'd not heard from Celivia since their parting in the Sotunn Mountains, but he felt certain that she was waiting. Striving toward her own goals that seemed so much more important than an abstract seal. When they came together...
"Oh, look!" Tani veered from their usual path into the town, eyes more alight than the town normally deserved. As Slaten emerged from his thoughts, he realized that Torgaadi had changed.
The previous season known as summer had taken place while they were traveling through the mountains. Mantyos had suggested there were celebrations and told stories of them, but Slaten hadn't been sure if he was telling the truth. Now he found the town transformed, fading garlands strung overhead and flowers in the streets.
If this was only what remained, the festival itself must have been a significant celebration. Even though it was days past, they were offered small dumplings and cups at no charge. He smelled fhoka and wanted to refuse, thinking that it was too hot, but to his surprise found that the cup was cool. Chilled fhoka was a very different experience, but he enjoyed the bitterness as they walked.
Most strikingly, he saw metal ornaments throughout the town, often dangling from windows or carts. Many had been ornately crafted into symbols of grain, flowers, or tools. He tried to find a use for them at first, only to realize that they were simply art, crafted by smiths solely to show their skill. It seemed that following the harvest, everyone wanted to celebrate.
Taking part in the lingering festivities made it take them much longer to reach the house, but Slaten felt no urgency. His mind had been stretched too taut during the war, then plunged into training. The constant tension could well be preventing him from hearing his sein.
Before they reached the house, Olondris encountered them in the street. A garland of flowers hung from the tip of her pike. She smiled briefly when she saw all of them, but almost immediately turned away. "Come. Mantyos will be pleased to see you."
When they arrived, that proved true. "Finally, you return!" The smith tossed the hinge he was working on to the table and rose to greet them. Though he was faster than most, Slaten was still taken off guard as he was pulled into a tight hug. "I have grown so bored without you."
"His gifts are burning a hole through his forge." Olondris spoke sharply with a soft smile that lasted until they looked at her. Tani accepted the smith's embrace and then pulled back to see him better.
"Does that mean you've completed our weapons?"
"He'd better have!" Melal lunged in for the next hug, slapping Mantyos on the back. "We will return to battle soon, I can feel it in my blood."
Mantyos skipped Veron and embraced Laeri before he pulled away. "Yes, your weapons are complete, or nearly complete. Since you are so eager, young hero, let me begin with you."
The group moved to a dark corner of the smithy filled with various tools. But beneath them lay a iron chest that appeared to be bound to the floor. Olondris took a key that hung around her neck and unlocked it, then Mantyos bent inside and first raised a sword with both hands.
"This is a bloodsteel blade, forged in the strength of a Steeljudge. Wield it well."
Melal grabbed the crimson blade and swung it several times, forcing others to back away, before smiling in satisfaction. It was certainly a beautiful sword, a gleaming length of red steel ending in an ornate pommel with a crossguard that swept upward like wings.
"What do you have to eat?" Melal asked, wandering into the house. Mantyos gestured to a pot that sat on the low table before he returned to the chest to retrieve the next weapon.
"For you, Tani, I have crafted these three knives." Mantyos carefully handed the narrow blades to her by the points. "I believe that you would be best suited to soulsteel, but I do not understand your path well enough to know if you are ready for it. These are the next best thing, forged with some of my own sein. Your threads of sein should connect to them more easily."
"Thank you, Mantyos. They're beautiful." Tani looked over them reverently, but then stood back to watch what Mantyos would reveal next.
"For you, Veron, I have this delightful toy wagon tha-"
"Go fuck yourself," Veron spat.
"As it happens, one benefit of marriage is-"
"My blade is good enough." Veron tapped the hilt of her sword as she turned away.
"Yes, I knew you'd say that." Mantyos only grinned after her before he bent down again. This time he pulled forth a strange piece of metal, like an elongated cup, but forged of quality steel. Everyone stared at it until Mantyos carried it to Laeri. "This is for you."
"Me?" Laeri stared at it in shock, yet as her hands accepted the metal, she lifted her staff. Then Slaten understood: the metal was shaped to cover the lower end of it. "But I'm not a warrior..."
"No matter what path you choose, this could serve you well. It could strike, it will defend better than wood, or it can simply prevent your staff from wearing against the ground. We will need to work to affix it properly, but it will be a simple task."
"Thank you, Mantyos!" Laeri bobbed through several bows, nearly dropping the metal in the process.
That left only Slaten, who waited as Mantyos reached into the chest one final time. The blade he lifted was a strange one, as long as an Oken blade but straight and unusually thick. When the smith delivered it to him, Slaten accepted with both hands, examining the sword with honest bafflement.
"It is very finely crafted," he said, but they were only polite words. The steel appeared to be of excellent quality, and the edge was sharp, but if it had been hardened, it had been hardened poorly. Not only was the shape strange, the balance felt entirely wrong to him. Slaten glanced toward Mantyos, saw the mischievous spark in the man's eyes, and realized that it must be a jest he failed to understand. Normally he would have said nothing, but with everyone staring at him... "It is... very finely crafted shit?"
Mantyos roared with laughter and Tani smiled, so Slaten thought his fumbling had been successful, but he was still truly puzzled. He leaned to try to catch a glimpse of something else in the chest, except Olondris was already moving to lock it. Taking back the sword, Mantyos urged him to follow to the anvil.
"Your path is best suited to bloodsteel, but would you fight with the blood of another? I think not. This blade is nothing but raw ore compared to what it will become."
"Did you shape it like a sword simply for a jest?" Tani asked. Mantyos smiled over his shoulder.
"Partially that, partially habit, and partially for what is to come." His face grew serious and he gestured for Slaten to stand opposite him. "To complete the work, I need you to cut yourself with this edge. I recommend the back of your sword arm. Unless you have urgent business, I suggest we begin now."
Slaten looked around the room, catching up to the new development. Melal sat on one of the stools, scooping porridge into his mouth without any sign that he had heard. Olondris gave him a slight nod and Tani smiled encouragingly. Accepting that he might as well, Slaten pulled back his sleeve and then drew the sword across the back of his left arm.
"More," Mantyos urged. "Let your sein flow through you."
After cutting a second and third time, Slaten's own blood covered the edge. Mantyos quickly took it from him, a crimson cloth in his hands running over the blade. Instead of wiping the blood away, it spread it evenly over the steel. There was sein flowing in the smith's hands, but it was nothing like any combat technique Slaten had ever seen.
Still carrying the blade, Mantyos bent down next to his forge and opened his mouth. Though the breath that escaped his lips was soft, the flame flared to life. Slaten smelled his own blood, but suddenly he tasted it in his sein, felt it in his body, and heard it in his ears. As the blade entered the flame, the blood did not hiss, it began to glow.
"This will take some time." Mantyos spoke quietly, for once without any hint of playfulness in his voice. "Please eat without me."
Though the others moved to the table as Olondris brought out food that Melal hadn't eaten, Slaten remained by the forge. First he waited to allow Laeri to heal the cuts on his arm, but even after, he found his gaze drawn to the metal. He had never seen such a forging process, yet felt as though he should be present while steel was forged from his own blood. His entire body was warm, far warmer than the fires in the smithy merited.
When the steel was white hot, yet still retaining a tinge of crimson, Mantyos turned back to him. "Go, Slaten. You have given enough."
He lowered his head and returned to the others, accepting the plate that had been left for him. Laeri and Melal were talking about the seals, while Olondris and Tani spoke in a quieter conversation. When he sat down beside them, Olondris gave him the slightest nod.
"I was telling Tani that I believe there is some truth to these stories the raiders tell of wolves. I have never encountered this problem, because errants always have overflowing sein, but I believe you are correct. You need a deeper understanding of sein to sustain yourself."
Slaten nodded, the confirmation doing little to comfort him. "What do you suggest?"
"You are already on the correct path, seeking to better understand yourself. But I have suggestions for both of you. Slaten, as you have mastered the hammer stroke so well, I believe that the reinforcing techniques from the Ironmonger's Path would be beneficial to you. Tani, you use your strings of sein well, but not exactly as an errant would."
"Forgive me." Tani dangled a throwing knife from her hand and stared at the invisible line of sein. "I accepted the wisdom of your suggestion, but I seek to be Nelee above all. Instead of adopting the errant methods of sein, I have used my own."
Olondris merely shrugged. "I noticed. What I observed is that your physical techniques and your sein techniques are somewhat different. For the threads of sein you create, I believe a slightly different method would be more appropriate."
They continued speaking about technique and Slaten fully enjoyed the rest of the meal. There was more than enough time for training in the evening, but Olondris said that she needed to conduct business. Melal was snoring upstairs, Tani had gone to practice her sein threads on her own, and Laeri was experimenting with her newly heavy staff. He was alone.
When he went to Mantyos, he saw the smith had stopped his work. The steel had been reformed into a thinner version of an Oken blade, but it was merely a steel bar. Though Slaten was not intimately familiar with the work of a smith, he knew that it would need to be ground to an edge, hardened, and tempered.
The steel was not bright red like Melal's blade, but as dark as dried blood.
"I hope you don't expect too much." Mantyos spoke quietly from his seat. "This sword will not split mountains or swing with the sound of thunder. It will be a pale shadow of the blade I could forge if you had a Steeljudge's body. But... Olondris and I have greatly enjoyed your company. I wanted to give you something before you go."
"Do you think it will be soon?"
The old smith's hair swung back and forth. "I cannot say for certain, but we hear rumors of movement from Espal. If they do act against Portant, the instability will ripple through all the rest. If that occurs, I believe your Hero will decide to strike."
It seemed very likely. Slaten regarded the thought grimly as his eyes ran over the dark red steel. Before he could fall too deep into his thoughts, Mantyos slapped him on the arm.
"Go out and enjoy yourself, boy, leave this to me! Maybe go order a sheath. If you think you're getting one from me, you have another thing coming!"
Slaten smiled at the smith's laughter and rose to his feet. The point was well-taken, even if he did not intend to enjoy himself by normal standards. Waiting would accomplish nothing. He was already doing the most that he could do in his own training, but that was only one aspect of a far more complex situation.
Leaving the house, Slaten instead traveled across town. He could not say with certainty where Natala would be at this hour, but he needed to speak with her. They had spent much time together on their journey back to the Maenhu, but whenever they reached a trading post or a town, she vanished.
He found her at an inn she'd mentioned, the Behemoth's Perch. Though he couldn't read the Reili on the sign, it featured a drawing of a behemoth balanced on an improbably small tree branch. The inn was crowded with merchants and other wealthy travelers, not an errant in sight. When he finally spotted her seated in a corner booth, he stopped to stare.
Natala sat in front of a Yenith board, practically vibrating with excitement as her eyes danced over the pieces. One hand reached out toward a piece, then retreated, while her other hand tangled some of her hair around one finger. She wore raider cloths, but only three layers that clung close to her body.
Merchants crowded around her, both men and women. Many of the men watched her admiringly, as well as one of the women, but Natala nudged the arm of the young woman at her side and said something that made them both laugh. Her aura was sexual, yet utterly without self-consciousness, as if she was unaware of it.
Which meant it was safe to assume she was completely aware of it. Slaten approached, unable to find any flaw in her act. He thought he saw her gaze flicker to him once, but she showed no sign that she recognized him. Wondering if she would pretend not to know him, Slaten simply waited.
"Oh, my poor behemoth..." Natala's hand wavered as she moved her piece between several potential places, all of which were poor choices. A beginner might want to preserve a strong piece, but any competent player would see that sacrificing the behemoth could win her the southwestern mountain.
At last Natala made her move, though she immediately groaned as her opponent captured one of her elite pieces. The older merchant laughed and patted her on the hand. "Always look over the entire board, my dear."
"You think you've won, but not yet!"
Natala did fight back, earning a few cheers of support from the surrounding audience as she claimed the central mountain. Her sloppy strategy made it only a matter of time before all three of her elites had been captured and the game was complete.
"I really thought I'd win that one." Natala pouted good-naturedly, but soon smiled as she accepted a drink from one of the merchants surrounding the game. Her opponent smiled and patted her hand again, though his fingers lingered on her wrist.
All at once Natala sat upright, staring at him. "Oh, there you are!" Her astonishment turned all attention to Slaten, who took a step back as everyone looked at him. Natala struggled to her feet, wavering a bit as she tried to push past the others. "To help secure all your orders, I've been hiring errants from the deep south. We... ah, we need to discuss payment..."
Though the other merchants objected, urging her to stay, Natala continually insisted. She tried to put the pieces of the Yenith board away but wavered as if drunk. Eventually the others helped her and Natala tucked it under one arm as she approached. She tripped and he had to catch her, which made her laugh. Her weight against him pressed them toward one of the tavern's back chambers, so he supported her there, feeling jealousy boring into his back.
"Close the curtain," Natala said as soon as they entered.
As soon as he did so, another curtain passed over her face and took all of the giddy cheerfulness with it. Natala sat as straight as a sword, no longer tilting her hips or arching her back. Seeing that emotionless, merciless gaze meeting his, Slaten felt the tension ease away.
"Sit and play." Natala gestured to the seat opposite her and began setting up the Yenith board. Slaten lowered himself into the seat and worked in silence.
While moving the pieces, he realized for the first time that she wasn't using the cheap board from the Bloodskin village. This Yenith board had been ornately carved so that it looked almost like a landscape, though one with unnatural lines and flat squares. He had been completely unaware, and it surprised him that he had missed such a detail, but when he had looked at the board, he had only seen the positions.
Once all the pieces were in place, Natala looked up at him seriously. "We should have privacy here. Did you need to speak about something important?"
"We weren't sure if you were in Torgaadi when we returned. I only wanted to talk."
"Good." Natala displayed a brief but authentic smile, or at least part of him wanted to accept it as authentic. "I grow quite weary of that game, so you really are my savior. I wanted to speak with you as well, but please let me have at least one game of Yenith."
Slaten nodded and made a conventional opening move, soldier to mountain edge. "I was surprised to see you behave that way. I thought that you wanted a different sort of life."
"I dislike it, but I have few resources available to me. My body is one of them, so I will exploit it as necessary." As soon as she finished speaking, Natala snapped a soldier piece of her own into position with none of the hesitation he'd seen earlier.
"Don't underestimate yourself. I can feel that you've gained some true understanding of your sein."
"But I will never be like you or Tani." Without stopping in the middle of a movement, Natala gave him a slight smile. "According to some errants, there are sein arts that can prevent one from becoming drunk. Do you know any you could teach me?"
"I am unfamiliar with such, but I believe Olondris could help you." With the opening four moves complete, Slaten needed to observe the board more carefully. He adopted a highly defensive strategy so that he could focus more on their words. "Have you been pretending to drink?"
"That would be futile, because predators are skilled at tracking how much you drink. So I am quite drunk at the moment. Please take advantage of me on the Yenith board."
She certainly didn't seem drunk, though Slaten almost immediately reversed his opinion. Natala might not act like the common drunks he knew, but something in her harsh edges had changed. Some revealed their true selves when they drank, and it seemed that her true self watched with eyes of stone.
