apparatus ended in a long wooden spar that stuck straight out into the cavern.
Bradok had never seen an ocean, but he knew about large bodies of water. Likewise he knew what that was without ever having actually seen one. There, more than a mile beneath the surface, in the heart of a mountain, Silas the cooper was building a boat.
C HAPTER 5
The Cooper and the Council
B radok had to push his way bodily through the crowd until, at last, he found himself in front of the curved shop door. A sign to one side read
Silas & Son, Coopers
.
Not really knowing what else to do, Bradok put out his hand and rapped smartly on the door.
A moment later it opened.
In the opening beyond stood someone who could not be Silas or his son. Instead a human appeared, tall, like all members of his race, and pudgy, wearing a smock. Dust and wood shavings covered his clothes, hair, and apron, making it impossible for Bradok to determine the man’s age or appearance. Humans were not terribly unusual in Ironroot, but to see one so obviously apprenticed to a dwarf craftsman was additional cause for curiosity.
“May I help you,” the human said in a mild voice.
“I’m looking for Silas,” Bradok said.
The human’s face turned sour. “Master Silas is far too busy to entertain visitors,” he said grumpily. “If you just want to gawk, you can stay out here with this lot.” He nodded in the direction of the milling crowd.
He began to close the door, but Bradok shoved his foot into the jamb to keep it from closing.
“It’s really rather important,” he said.
The human appraised Bradok for a moment, looking him up and down with his dust-colored eyes, then stepped back from the doorway. “Then you’d better come in, Mister …”
“Axeblade, Bradok Axeblade.”
The human nodded, shutting the door behind Bradok. “I am Perin,” he said, indicating himself, though Bradok didn’t know if that was his family name or his given. “I am the first assistant to Master Silas. If you will follow me, please.”
Perin turned and opened a door just off the entryway. Steam and the smell of washed wood and fire billowed through the opening as the two passed into the workshop. A small forge had been built on one side, and two young dwarves were pumping the bellows while a smith heated a long, curved iron band for pounding on a nearby anvil. Along the opposite wall were workbenches where a burly dwarf shaped and planed wooden slats smooth. Next to the forge stood the steaming box where the slats would be cooked to make them flexible enough to bend.
Bradok took it all in with a single glance. Like most dwarven shops, the cooper’s operation was neat and well ordered.
The only unusual thing was the giant boat. Its curved wooden ribs ran all the way up to the ceiling, and Bradok could see why the side wall of the shop had been torn out: The boat took up the entire length of the shop and then some.
“What in the undermountain is this about?” Bradok squawked once he’d gotten over his astonishment.
“I assumed that is why you were here, Mister Axeblade,” Perin said in an even voice.
Just then a squat, solid-looking dwarf in a clean apron came around the back end of the boat. He had bristly brown hair and a beard that had been braided and thrust under his apron for safekeeping. His eyes were blue, and he had a long, beaklike nose.
“Who have we here?” he said to Perin.
Bradok stuck out his arm before the human could answer. “Bradok Axeblade,” he said. “I assume you are Silas?”
“Silas Weatherstone,” the dwarf said, clasping his arm firmly. “Welcome to my shop.” He gestured around at the work stations that weren’t obscured by the half-completed ship. “Are you here from the council in some official capacity?”
That last bit caught Bradok unawares. As far as he knew, he’d never met Silas nor done any business with him. How did he recognize him as a council member?
“Gossip gets around quickly in the Artisans’
Bradok had never seen an ocean, but he knew about large bodies of water. Likewise he knew what that was without ever having actually seen one. There, more than a mile beneath the surface, in the heart of a mountain, Silas the cooper was building a boat.
C HAPTER 5
The Cooper and the Council
B radok had to push his way bodily through the crowd until, at last, he found himself in front of the curved shop door. A sign to one side read
Silas & Son, Coopers
.
Not really knowing what else to do, Bradok put out his hand and rapped smartly on the door.
A moment later it opened.
In the opening beyond stood someone who could not be Silas or his son. Instead a human appeared, tall, like all members of his race, and pudgy, wearing a smock. Dust and wood shavings covered his clothes, hair, and apron, making it impossible for Bradok to determine the man’s age or appearance. Humans were not terribly unusual in Ironroot, but to see one so obviously apprenticed to a dwarf craftsman was additional cause for curiosity.
“May I help you,” the human said in a mild voice.
“I’m looking for Silas,” Bradok said.
The human’s face turned sour. “Master Silas is far too busy to entertain visitors,” he said grumpily. “If you just want to gawk, you can stay out here with this lot.” He nodded in the direction of the milling crowd.
He began to close the door, but Bradok shoved his foot into the jamb to keep it from closing.
“It’s really rather important,” he said.
The human appraised Bradok for a moment, looking him up and down with his dust-colored eyes, then stepped back from the doorway. “Then you’d better come in, Mister …”
“Axeblade, Bradok Axeblade.”
The human nodded, shutting the door behind Bradok. “I am Perin,” he said, indicating himself, though Bradok didn’t know if that was his family name or his given. “I am the first assistant to Master Silas. If you will follow me, please.”
Perin turned and opened a door just off the entryway. Steam and the smell of washed wood and fire billowed through the opening as the two passed into the workshop. A small forge had been built on one side, and two young dwarves were pumping the bellows while a smith heated a long, curved iron band for pounding on a nearby anvil. Along the opposite wall were workbenches where a burly dwarf shaped and planed wooden slats smooth. Next to the forge stood the steaming box where the slats would be cooked to make them flexible enough to bend.
Bradok took it all in with a single glance. Like most dwarven shops, the cooper’s operation was neat and well ordered.
The only unusual thing was the giant boat. Its curved wooden ribs ran all the way up to the ceiling, and Bradok could see why the side wall of the shop had been torn out: The boat took up the entire length of the shop and then some.
“What in the undermountain is this about?” Bradok squawked once he’d gotten over his astonishment.
“I assumed that is why you were here, Mister Axeblade,” Perin said in an even voice.
Just then a squat, solid-looking dwarf in a clean apron came around the back end of the boat. He had bristly brown hair and a beard that had been braided and thrust under his apron for safekeeping. His eyes were blue, and he had a long, beaklike nose.
“Who have we here?” he said to Perin.
Bradok stuck out his arm before the human could answer. “Bradok Axeblade,” he said. “I assume you are Silas?”
“Silas Weatherstone,” the dwarf said, clasping his arm firmly. “Welcome to my shop.” He gestured around at the work stations that weren’t obscured by the half-completed ship. “Are you here from the council in some official capacity?”
That last bit caught Bradok unawares. As far as he knew, he’d never met Silas nor done any business with him. How did he recognize him as a council member?
“Gossip gets around quickly in the Artisans’
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