The Two of Swords: Part 12 Read Online Free Page A

cherry-red and almost translucent. The smith draped it over the horn of the anvil and gave it a few smart taps. “Is that right?”
    “Yes. He lives in Mere Barton, in the second street. The fifth house, on the third floor. He keeps his hammers and his anvil at our house.”
    The smith held the horseshoe up to inspect it, turned it over, put it back in the fire. “If you’re looking for a discount, forget it,” he said. “Otherwise, I’m Glabria, pleased to meet you. Don’t get many craftsmen out here in the sticks.”
    “I’m Musen.”
    The smith looked at him for a moment. “You ought to be in the army,” he said.
    “I was, for a bit. Didn’t suit.”
    “Ah well. Nobody’s going to give you any trouble round here, and the draft doesn’t bother coming here any more. Cleaned this whole district out years ago. You could try walking with a limp, though. You don’t get asked questions if you limp.”
    “Actually, I don’t need to fake it. But thanks for the tip.”
    “Right.” Out the horseshoe came again; many light taps, until the iron turned grey. “Let’s have her foot up and we’ll see if it fits.”
    It fitted; Glabria tapped in the nails and cut off the ends, and Musen thanked him. “How much do I—?”
    Glabria grinned. “Get out with you, I was just kidding. Keep your money.” He tipped charcoal from the bucket on to the fire, heaped it up evenly with the rake, then doused all round with the copper can. “You in a tearing hurry, or have you got time for a drink?”
    The cabin next to the forge was what you’d expect of a hard-working man living alone. There was one chair and a stool, and the table was thick with black dust. Glabria lifted a stone bottle off the floor, pulled the stopper and sat on the stool. “So,” he said. “You stopping here or passing through?”
    Musen hesitated, then sat down. “Depends,” he said.
    “Really? What on?”
    He put his hand in his pocket. “Been a craftsman long?”
    “Born to it. We’re all Lodge in our family.”
    Musen took out the silver box and put it on the table. “Go on,” he said. “Take a look.”
    Glabria opened the box, took out the cards and laid them on the table one by one. “There’s a pretty thing,” he said. “What is it?”
    Musen felt a wave of disappointment. “Lodge property,” he said. “It’s very rare and worth a lot of money, and I need to keep it safe. There’s a man trying to steal it from me. He’ll kill me if he catches me. He’s very dangerous.”
    The look on Glabria’s face would have melted a heart of stone. “What do you expect me to do? I’m not anybody. I’m just a blacksmith.”
    “And I grew up on a farm, it doesn’t matter. This belongs to the Lodge, it’s really old and special. You’re a craftsman, you’ve got to help me, it’s what the Lodge is all about, helping each other.”
    “What do you want me to do?”
    “I don’t know.” Musen started putting the cards back in the box. “I can’t make up my mind. If I stay here, he’ll find me. If I go—”
    “If you wanted to keep from being noticed, you’ve gone the wrong way about it,” Glabria said. “You’ve been going round buying up enough stuff to found a colony. Even I heard about it, and I wasn’t interested. Your man’s only got to ask a few people, he’ll know you’ve been here and the direction you left in.” He shook his head. “That wasn’t smart.”
    “All right,” Musen said, “maybe it wasn’t. So what do I do now?”
    Glabria thought for a while. “You reckon this man of yours is a hard case. Just how bad is he?”
    “He’d kill either of us without a second thought, if he reckoned it’d help.”
    “That’s not encouraging,” Glabria said. “What I was going to suggest was, you find someone else to drive your cart full of stuff out of town. He follows the cart, by the time he figures out he’s been tricked, you’re miles away in the other direction. But who’d be prepared to do that