The work began: the coaxing of raw iron into shapes that it would hold for generations. There was something satisfying in that, Corban thought, as he pounded with a hammer where Thannon directed, sparks flying, sizzling and spitting on his leather apron. Thannon doused the length of iron in water and steam leaped up in a hissing cloud. Time passed quickly, father and son lost in the rhythm of their work.
