31
WOLFE
The metal shop in Yurka is small – a stone enclosure at the far end of the square, with two whetting stones and a hearth set thunderously ablaze. Wolfe begins sweating profusely the moment he steps inside.
He’s wearing too many clothes for such a warm shop, and the clothes he wears are far too fine. The floor stands high with sawdust and sawed-off shards of metal. Wolfe worries for his violet, suede shoes and the cashmere cuffs of his trousers.
Zoe would not let him within a mile of this shop – not in cashmere. And she wouldn’t trust his trousers with a country launderer either. Wolfe thought he might wear them to the tavern tonight, and perhaps no one will notice the dust – everyone in Yurka is dusty anyway.
He sighs.
He thinks the smithy should have swept up for the E
