it. All I could think of then was that my husband and my son were hurt.' Her dark eyes peered at the Duke from under her fall of curly hair. Maybe not trying to be seductive, but trying to convey some message; well, he'd get it from her later.
The woman went on: 'Your Grace has close relatives too. If you knew that they were in peril, I suppose that your first thought too would be for them.'
The man glanced at his wife, as if it had struck him, too, that she was acting oddly.
The Duke asked: 'And is another relative of mine now in peril, as you say?'
'I do not know, sir.' Whatever the woman had on her mind, it was not going to come out openly just now.
'Very well,' the Duke said patiently. 'Now. As for young Mark, I can understand his taking fright, and running away, after such an experience — though I, of course, would not have harmed him, had he stayed. I can understand his flight, I say — but why should he have taken along that sword?'
'I think… ' the man began, and paused.
'Yes? By the way, Jord, would you care for a little of this wine? It's very good.'
'No thank you, sir. Your Grace, Mark must have seen both of us fall. His older brother and myself, I mean. So he probably thinks that I'm dead along with Kenn. That would mean… I've always told my sons that one day when I was gone the sword would be theirs. Of course I always thought that Kenn would be the one to have it some day. Now Kenn is.. '
The Duke waited for the couple to recover themselves. In his own mind he thought he was being as gracious about it as if they were of his own rank. Courtesy and gentleness were important tools in dealing with folk of any station; he sometimes had trouble making his subordinates understand that fact. All attitudes were tools, and the choice of the correct one for each situation made a great deal of difference.
Still, he began to grow impatient. He urged the miller: 'Tell me all about the sword.'
'It was given me years ago, Your Grace.' The miller was managing to pull himself together. 'I have already told your men.'
'Yes, yes. Nevertheless, tell me again. Given you by Vulcan himself? What did he look like?'
The miller looked surprised, as if he had thought some other question would come next. 'Look like? That's a hard thing to describe, Your Honor. As you might expect, he's the only god I've ever seen. If it was a man I had to describe, I'd say: Lame in one leg. Carries a forge-hammer in hand most of the time — a huge forge-hammer. He was dressed in leather, mostly. Wearing a necklace made out of what looked like dragonscales — I know that sounds like foolishness, or it would, but… and he was taller than a man might be. And infinitely stronger.'
Obviously, thought the Duke, this was not the first time the miller had tried to find words to describe his experience of thirteen years ago. And obviously he still wasn't having much success.
'More than a man,' Jord added at last, with the air of being pleased to be able to establish that much at least beyond a doubt. 'Your Grace, I hope you don't misunderstand what I'm going to say now.' 'I don't suppose I will. Speak on.'
'From the day I met Vulcan, until now, no man — no woman either — has truly been able to frighten me. Oh, if I were to be sentenced to death, to torture, I'd be frightened, yes. But no human presence… even standing before the Dark King himself, I think, would not be so bad as what I've already had to do. Your Grace, you must have seen gods, you'll know what I mean.'
His Grace had indeed confronted gods — though very rarely — and on one occasion the Dark King also. He said: 'I take your meaning, miller, and I think you put it well, that special impact of a god's presence. So, you stood by Vulcan's forge at his command, and you helped him make the swords?'
'Then Your Grace already knows, I mean that more than one were made.' The miller appeared more impressed by this than by the Duke himself or his surrounding wealth and power. 'I have never met anyone else who knew that fact, or even suspected it. Yes, we made more than one. Twelve, in fact. And I stood by and helped. Smithery was my trade in those days. Not that any of the skill that made those swords was mine — no human being has skill to compare with that. And five other men from my village were called to help also — to work the bellows, and tend the fire, and so on. We had no choice but to help.'
Here the woman surprised the Duke again, this time by interrupting, with a faint clearing of her throat. 'Does Your Grace remember ever visiting that village? It's called Treefall, and it's almost in the mountains.'
Duke Fraktin looked at the woman — yes, definitely, he was going to have to see her alone, later, without her husband. Something was up. 'Why, I suppose I may have been there,' the Duke said. The name meant nothing to him.
He faced the man again. 'No, Jord, I don't suppose you had much choice when Vulcan ordered you to help him. I understand that unfortunately none of the five other men survived.'
'Vulcan used 'em up, sir. He used their bodies and their blood, like so many tubs of water, to quench the blades.'
'Yet you he spared… except of course that he took your arm. Why do you suppose he did that?'
'I don't remember that part at all well, Your Grace… might I sit down? My head… '
'Yes, yes. Pull up one of those chairs for him, Mala. Now Jord. Go on. About when you made the swords.'
'Well, sir, I fainted. And when I woke again, my right arm was gone. A neat wound, with most of the bleeding stopped already. And my left hand was already holding Townsaver's hilt. And Vulcan bent over me, as I was lying there, and he said…'
'Yes, yes?'
'That now the sword was mine to keep. Townsaver. The Sword of Fury, he called it too. To keep and to pass on as inheritance. I couldn't understand… I hurt like hell… and then he laughed, as if it were all nothing but a great joke. A god laughing makes a sound like — like nothing else. But it has never been a joke to me.'
'No, I suppose not.' The Duke turned and stepped back up onto his dais, and poured himself another small cup of wine. When he looked down at the jeweled hilt of the fine dagger at his belt, his hand itched to toy with it, but he forebode. At this moment he wanted to do nothing, say nothing, in the least threatening. He asked mildly: 'How many swords did you say that Vulcan forged that day?'
'I don't think I said, Your Grace, but there were twelve.' The miller looked a little better, more in control of himself, since he'd been allowed to sit down. 'Would you believe it?' he almost smiled.
'I would believe it, since you say so, and you are an honest man. I would know if you were lying. Now, about these other eleven swords. It is very, very important that their existence should be kept very quiet. No one outside this room is to hear of them from you. My good people, what do you suppose I should do to make sure of that?'
The man looked to be at a loss. But the woman stepped forward smoothly. 'You should trust us, Your Grace. We won't say a word. Jord's never mentioned those other swords until now, and he won't. And I won't.'
The Duke nodded to her slowly, then switched his attention back to the man. 'Now, smith, miller, whatever — what happened to those other eleven swords?'
A helpless, one-armed shrug. 'Of that, sire, I have no iaea.'
'Did Vulcan name them, as he named your sword? What were they like? Where did they go?'
Again Jord made a helpless motion. 'I know none of those things, Your Grace. I never got a good look at any of those other swords, at least not after the early stages of the forging. I saw twelve white-hot bars of steel, waiting for Vulcan's hammer — that was when I counted 'em. Later I was too busy to think, or care and later still, I had my bleeding stump to think about. I couldn't… '
'Come, come, Jord. You must have seen more than that. You were right there, the whole time, weren't you?'
'I was, sir, but… Your Grace, I'd tell you more if I could.' Jord sounded desperate.
'Very well, very well. Perhaps you will remember more about those swords. What else did Vulcan say to you?'
'I don't know what all he might have said, Your Grace. He gave me orders, told me what to do, I'm sure. I must have understood what he was saying then, but I never could remember afterwards.'
'You do remember seeing those twelve white-hot steel bars, though. Were they all alike?'
'All meant to be straight blades, I think. Probably much like the one that I was given. Weapons never were my specialty.'
