Before we could address a hundred years of clan rivalry, though, we first needed to face the king of the Astiwie. The man was the brother of High Chieftess Natasza, Father’s widow. He wasn’t my uncle, but a part of me clung to the slim chance he didn’t know that. It was all the hope I had as dread entrapped my chest.
The trail ended with the trees. Here, more buildings encircled a large circular house. From the rancid smell, a tanner was to the west. Odd to build it upwind.
I held my breath as we continued on. Smoke rose from a stone furnace to our right, where a man guided a sword into the flames. I watched as he yanked the blade and swiftly grabbed a hammer, cracking its head onto the red-hot metal. The clanging rang through the village. Narcyz would have loved to see that slice of hom
