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Authors Note: This is a Promethean Age story which takes place a very long time ago. Before Inkamp Steel in fact but after Dog amp Crow.The Cold BlacksmithElizabeth BearWeyland Smith raised up his head from his anvil the heat rolling beads of sweat across his face and his sparsely forested scalp but henever stopped swinging his hammer. The ropy muscles of his chest knotted and released with every blow and the clamor of steel on steelechoed from the trees. The hammer looked to weigh as much as the smith but he handled it like a bit of cork on a twig. He worked in aglade out of doors by a deep cold well just right for quenching and full of magic fish. Whoever had spoken was still under the shade of thetrees only a shadow to one who squinted through the glare of the sun.quotHappen Im a blacksmith missquot he said.As if he could be anything else in his leather apron sweating over forge and anvil in the noonday sun limping on a lamed leg.quotDo you take mending old manquot she asked stepping forth into the light. He thought the girl might be pretty enough in a country mannerher features a plump-cheeked outline under the black silk veil pinned to the corners of her hat. Not a patch on his own long-lost swan-maiden Olrun though Olrun had left him after seven years to go with |
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