Fall of Angels (The Saga of Recluce #6)(72)

In time, Nylan hoped, they would be able to afford glass for the remainder of the tower windows, but glass was a lower priority than food or weapons, especially now that Ryba had declared that the destiny of the guards of Westwind would be the double blades.

No wonder she had pressed him for the forty blades he had made so far!

He stepped toward the mostly filled tables. The grass baskets were filled with loaves of fresh-baked bread. Ayrlyn had finally brought back a yeast starter or whatever it was, and Kyseen had only exploded dough all over the kitchen a handful of times before learning how to mix flour, yeast, and water in making loaves suited to the big, wood-burning ovens that everyone had thought were too big when Nylan and Huldran had started laying bricks and mortaring in the metal cooking surfaces and oven grate slots.

Nylan sniffed the air, trying to determine the composition of the steam rising from the two big pots-one on each table. Some sort of stew, with local roots and greens tossed in.

Jaseen turned toward Nylan as he passed the end of the second table, and he noted the scratches on the medtech's forearms.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Frigging pine trees. The second and Kyseen discovered the cones have nuts, and you can roast them or bake them or whatever. Only problem is that if you wait for the cones to fall, the nuts are gone. Selitra and me, we've been climbing pines. I slipped, and some of those needles are like knives."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I. Frigging nuts. Bet they don't even taste good." She took a savage bite from the chunk of bread she held, and Nylan walked toward the hearth end of the first table.

Ryba, as usual, sat at the head of the table, and Nylan slipped onto the end of the bench to her left, the space that was always left for him.

As he sat, he noticed Ayrlyn leading Hryessa toward the second table. The local woman now wore leather trousers, boots, and a shirt somewhat large for her thin frame. Her face had been washed, and her hair had been cut short, marine-style.

As Hryessa looked down the table, her eyes widened, and she swallowed. Ayrlyn said something, easing Hryessa onto the bench and breaking off a large chunk of bread for her.

"There's our first recruit," noted Ryba.

"She's not that big," said Gerlich from the other side of the table.

"Given time, she'll be as good or better than any except Istril or a few others." Ryba's words were matter-of-fact. "We'll see more before long."

Beside Saryn, Relyn frowned, struggling with a spoon in his left hand. "You will teach her the blade?"

"Of course. Why not?"

Relyn opened his mouth, then looked at Nylan. "Mage? What do you see when women have blades?"

"More men and women will get killed-at first." Nylan stood and spooned stew onto his trencher. "After that, most of those who die will be arrogant men."

"You sound displeased at that," Saryn offered.

"I'm displeased any time force is the only answer, and these days I'm displeased a lot," said the engineer as he reseated himself, forcing his tone to be wry.

The silver-haired Siret smiled shyly and passed Nylan a basket of bread.

"Thank you." Nylan handed the basket back after breaking off a chunk of the heavy bread.

"You're welcome, ser."

"Would you pass me some, dear Siret?" asked Berlis.

"I certainly would, dear Berlis. About the time you bed a demon-except you already have. So enjoy it." The deep green eyes flashed.

"Talk about bedding ..."

"If you want to bed a blade," suggested Siret, "just say another word."

"Guards!" snapped Ryba.

Both women closed their mouths.

"Thank you." Ryba turned to Nylan. "You were working on something different this morning."

"Yes. I finally got the bow thing worked out, I think." Nylan turned to Gerlich. "You might want to try it later this afternoon."

"Try what?" Gerlich lifted his eyebrows.

"A metal-composite bow."

"I'll try it, but I finally made one out of a local fir-type tree that works pretty well."

Nylan took a spoonful of stew. The meat and sauce tasted more of salt and some spice than meat, but he was hungry and shoveled in several mouthfuls, followed with a bite of bread. The bread was better-tasting than the stew.

Perhaps because of the outburst between Berlis and Siret, the midday meal was relatively quiet, although Gerlich had a long and low conversation with Narliat.

After eating, Nylan went back to the north yard and the next group of metal-composite bows.

First, he laid out three more strips of composite, and trimmed them, before rough-shaping the braces into the bow outlines. After that, he turned off the power and rested for a moment, letting the chill breeze off the western heights cool him and dry his sweat-soaked hair.

Behind him, the clink of trowels and mortar and stone continued as the outside walls of the bathhouse rose. The walls separating jakes, showers, and laundry could be installed after the roofing.

His break done, Nylan adjusted the goggles over his eyes once more and eased power through the laser. He could sense the raggedness of the powerhead, and he sweated even more heavily as he strained not only to meld the metal around the composite core, but to keep the energy flow from the powerhead constant.