‘We aren’t royal soldiers.See?’Atlas turned slightly so the man could see there was no royal emblem on his red cape.
‘Don’t lie!’The white-haired man lunged at us, only to trip and almost fall on the sword he had been working on.
Springing forward, I caught him by the upper arm before he impaled himself.
He scowled as he regained his footing, then a moment later his face smoothed as if nothing had happened.
‘Can I help you?’He smiled.
Atlas and I exchanged a look.This man was unwell.
‘You are the Red River blacksmith?’I asked him.
‘Yes.’He smiled again, holding up the sword for me to inspect.‘See this?’The white-haired man pointed to the hilt of the blade.‘There are two Little Worms.’
Two ridged lines entwined to form the base of the hilt.
‘It’s a well-made sword,’ I told him.
He lowered the sword with a frown.‘This sword is not for sale.I made this for Little Worm, so she knows she is not alone when I’m gone,’ he said firmly.
‘Is she here?’I asked, wondering if this Little Worm was the woman we had come here to meet.
‘She’s down by the river,’ he murmured, walking back to the forge and returning to his seat at the stone wheel.His foot tapped the stone grinder’s pedal, and the sound of scraping metal began again.
‘Little Worm?’Atlas raised a brow.
I shrugged.It was an odd nickname.
‘He’s short a few coins, isn’t he?’Atlas murmured.
‘Let’s see if she’s at the river.’We left our horses hitched to a post and walked towards the riverbank.The sound of rushing water reached us first.
‘There!’Atlas pointed upstream where a black mare stood almost eighteen hands high.I turned in that direction, searching the bank for the woman.
‘Hellfire!’Atlas hissed before dragging me behind a large boulder.‘It’s her, and she’s in the water.’
In the water?I peered around the rock and looked to the water where the large black mare stood sentinel.
She was bathing alone in the river.I felt a tingle in my fingers as I watched her run a bar of soap along her pale, muscular arms.
It was her.
She had golden hair and a sprinkling of freckles on her nose – just like in my dreams.Her long lashes lifted, revealing a hint of sadness in her grey eyes.
‘Tor.’Atlas pulled at my arm.
The water only reached her waist, and rosy-tipped nipples peeked between the golden strands of her long hair.I shouldn’t have beenwatching her bathe, but I had yearned to see her for so long that I couldn’t bring myself to look away.
‘Torgrin …’ Atlas hissed, trying not to be heard.
Frowning, she tipped her head upwards.Where there had been blue sky and the scorching Pedion sun, now dark clouds gathered ominously above her.
Did she dream about us?Was the confused blacksmith her father?
‘Torgrin, your hands!’
I looked at my hands and saw flickers of light sparking between my fingers.
