Part 47 (1/2)

'Now!' he cried, 'Strike! Each time I move the wedge, strike!'

Blow by blow the wedge moved along the sword, biting into the blade, cutting through the thin metal. Twice Durondel I resumed the sword to the fire to reheat it before striking was complete and the sword lay with its two cutting edges hammered into splayed strips of still fire-hot metal upon the anvil..

'It is a wonder,' Thoron exclaimed, bending forwards to study the strange star-shaped blade.

Durondell laughed and tossed the sword hilt deep back into the fire. 'That is nothing but fancy forge work, any smith can do that. Now comes the task to test the Master Armourer of Elundium. Stand back lest the black metal strikes out.'

Carefully, with the shortest blunt-nosed tongs, Durondell

withdrew the black splinter of steel from the furnace. Sullen and brooding, glowing dark red, it scattered sparks across the anvil. Durondell took a deep breath and swung his hammer.

Thoron leapt back as blood-red sparks fountained up, and blocked his ears as the metal screamed out, echoing all his worst nightmares.

Durondell laughed and struck again and again, flattening and drawing the splinter, changing its shape until he had fas.h.i.+oned it into a long thin strip, twice the length of the sword. Taking a cold chisel from the cooling tank he cut the strip in two and placed both parts beside the sword in the forge. Wiping his blackened, burned hand across his forehead he stepped back and motioned to Thoron to feed the fire with the wood they had gathered.

'I have never worked with black metal before,' he said to Thoron, taking him out into the noonday sunlight. 'It is Nightmare steel fas.h.i.+oned in the darkness of the City of

Night, but caution warned me and prudence armed me well.

Look!'

Durondell lifted his old spark-scarred leather ap.r.o.n and showed Thoron where two thin slithers of black metal had pierced through the leather. Thoron gasped, looking at the Ammourer's chest, expecting to see blood on his s.h.i.+rt. Durondell laughed and opened his coa.r.s.e woven s.h.i.+rt to reveal a smooth sheet of s.h.i.+ning metal that rose and fell with each breath.

'Steelsilver!' Thoron gasped, reaching out to touch it.

Durondell smiled. 'In my youth it was my triumph against the darkness. Then this forge rang night and day to the sweet music of my hammer. I had found the secret of steelsilver and forged all the battle coats for the Warhorses.'

'A steelsilver cloak would render a warrior unbeatable in battle,' Thoron whispered.

'I lost the secret when the horses' battle coats were finished. This fragment is all that remains and I kept it in memory of my true power. Come, the forge will be hot enough now to reforge the sword.'

'Would steelsilver have made the sword strong enough?'

Thoron asked as they pa.s.sed through the doors back into the smoke-hazed forge.

Durondell smiled, picking up his long-handled tongs. He gripped the hilt of the sword and pa.s.sed it to Thoron.

'I would have used steelsilver but its strength was to defend against the darkness, not to attack. It would have made the sword s.h.i.+ne and given it the sound of larksong as it cut through the air. The new power in this reforged blade will be to use the Nightmare's own steel against him, it will s.h.i.+ne

enough from the honing stone and yet be black enough to

penetrate the malice. Now, hold the blade steady across the anvil while I laminate the black steel inside the sword and the new steel on the outside. It will take all my skill to weld them together.'

Thoron held the sword with the fire tongs while Durondell

217.

placed the thin strips of black steel inside the blade and eased them together with soft, carefully aimed blows from the flat blemis.h.i.+ng hammer. The black steel hissed and spat as the blade closed about it. Quickly the Armourer hammered on the new steel and thrust the sword back into the fire, working furiously at the bellows until the blade glowed white hot.

Calling forward two of the hors.e.m.e.n he gave them strong fire tongs. 'When I lay the sword on the anvil hold it steady, no matter what happens.'

Thoron helped draw the sword out of the forge and held it -I steady while the hors.e.m.e.n clamped their tongs beside his.

Durondell swung his heaviest hammer down over his shoulder and struck the blade, sending it buckling up into the air.: 'Hold it steady!' he shouted, striking again.