Quickly, Devin got the metal back into the heat, watching the shade of it until it was exactly right, then pulling it out to work on it. It was close, but it still wasnt quite right, something about the edge not quite perfect. Devin knew it as surely as he knew his right from his left.

He was still young, but he knew weapons. He knew the best ways to craft them and to sharpen them… he even knew how to wield them, although both his father and Master Wendros seemed determined that he should not. The training the House of Weapons offered was for nobles, young men coming in to learn from the finest sword masters, including the impossibly skilled Wendros. Devin had to do it alone, practicing with everything from swords to axes, spears to knives, cutting at posts and hoping it was right.

A clamor from near the front of the House briefly caught Devins attention. The great metal doors at the front stood open, perfectly balanced to swing at the slightest touch. The young men whod come in through it were clearly noble, and just as clearly slightly drunk. Drunk was dangerous in the House of Weapons. A man who showed up drunk to work here was sent home, and if he did it more than once, he was dismissed.

Even clients were generally shown the door if they were not sober enough. A man with a blade who was drunk was a dangerous man, even if he didnt mean to be. These, though… they wore royal colors, and to be anything less than courteous was to risk more than a job.

We are in need of weapons, the one at the front said. Devin recognized Prince Rodry at once, from the stories about him if not in person. There is a hunt tomorrow, and there will probably be a tournament following the wedding.

Gund went to meet them, because he was one of the master blacksmiths there. Devin kept his attention on the blade he was forging, because the least slip or mistake could introduce air bubbles that would form cracks. He made it a point of pride that the weapons he forged didnt break or shatter when struck.

Despite the metals need for his attention, Devin wasnt able to take his eyes off the young nobles who had come there. They seemed around his age; boys trying to be the princes friend rather than the Knights of the Spur who served his father. Gund began by showing them spears and blades that might have suited the kings armies, but they quickly waved them away.

These are the sons of the king! one of the men said, gesturing first to Prince Rodry and then to another man Devin guessed to be Prince Vars, if only because he didnt look slender, gloomy, or girlish enough for Prince Greave. They deserve finer stuff than this.