Aramal whistled as he stepped in, placing the chair on one of the tables.“Impressive.”
Halithe grimaced.“It’s a mess,” she said.“Everything is all rusted and broken.”
“Well,” Aramal said, giving her a serious look, “it is a workshop.”His face split into a grin and his eyes danced.“Plenty of work here for someone like me.”
Despite herself, Halithe laughed.He looked so at ease, so comfortable.“You can fix all this?”she asked.
Aramal shrugged, his modest demeanor returning.“Most of it,” he said, lifting a pair of rusted sickles from one of the benches.“There’s good work that needs doing here.”
“If they let us stay,” Halithe grumbled.She tested a stool, then plopped down on it when it proved sound.“Why should they trust me?Trust us?”
“That would be the thinking part,” Aramal said as he started to poke around on the benches.“There should be a bit of glue here somewhere.”he added absently.“This was a large operation at one time.”
“How do you know that?”Halithe asked.
Aramal gave her a look.“Open your eyes,” he chided, and then jerked his head to the far wall.
Halithe stared, finally seeing the racks of shovels, rakes and hoes, rusted, yes, but neatly hung in rows.“Oh,” she said.
“Plows over there,” Aramal said, gesturing to the far corner.“There’s probably a separate forge somewhere.”He smiled.“You don’t put that next to a barn.”
“So there’s fields that need working,” Halithe said.
“And a need for hands to work them,” Aramal said.“Best let them figure it out.In the meantime, there is a kind of magic in fixing things.”He handed her a small pot, filled with dried and cracked glue.
Halithe gave it and him a dubious look.
Aramal smiled.“Let me show you.”
He did just that, showing her how to take the chair apart and scrape old glue from the joints.“Go easy now,” he said.“Just the glue, don’t bite into the wood.”He gave her a knife and let her work on a leg as he dug old glue out of the holes in the seat, humming softly.
Which would have normally irritated Halithe, but it felt comfortable and right.Maybe because he seemed so content.Once in a while, he’d look over at her work and give a nod of approval.The quiet, the work, it felt good.The knot between Halithe’s shoulders eased.
Finally, Aramal reached for the pot of dried glue.“This hide glue just needs some heat,” he mused.“Think they’re done talking?”
“I could check.”Halithe rose, brushing bits of wood and dried glue from her lap.
The sound of footsteps came from outside and the door was flung open.Ritathan strode in like a storm, his frown dark and foreboding.He paused in the doorway, dramatically.
“Well?”Aramal broke the silence.
“We can stay,” Ritathan’s scowl became even more impressive.“On sufferance.”
Aramal exchanged a glance with Halithe.“That’s good, right?”
“It’s fine,” Ritathan snapped, looking around with a sniff.“They are not particularly pleased to see us.They do not particularly trust us.”He glared over his shoulder at the door.“They have secrets they are not telling.”
“To be expected,” Aramal stared at him.“How are you offended by that?”
“She thinks you are more valuable than I am,” Ritathan bit off the words.
Halithe managed to turn her snicker into a cough.
“Ah,” Aramal said.
“You expected that,” Ritathan accused.
Aramal shrugged.“You have to figure out what they need, and fill the need, that’s all.Clear to me, they’ve a need that I can fill.”He gave Ritathan a side-look.
