Blacksmiths worked behind open forges, sparks flying every time a hammer struck glowing steel. Tailor shops displayed neatly folded fabrics outside their doors, leatherworkers hung belts and pouches from wooden racks, and carpenters worked with doors thrown open, the scent of fresh-cut wood mixing with coal smoke drifting from the forges.
"I asked you before," Ken said after a while, "but I'll ask again."
I looked at him.
"Did you love Jelda? I mean... romantically."
I shook my head. "No."
He glanced at me. "Wow. You answered that fast."
"I know the answer." I kept my eyes on the road. "She was a friend... or she would've been, if all this hadn't happened."
Ken stayed quiet after that.
A few minutes later, the ringing of steel grew louder.
Ahead of us, a broad-shouldered blacksmith pulled a glowing sword from the forge and lowered it into a barrel of water. Steam burst upward with a loud hiss as the hot metal cooled.
