Thomas waved at the sound of Lionel’s voice and abandoned himself to the heat.
Sit still, breathe, and listen. It was an exercise he’d learned on the first day of his first philosophy class. The first step to wisdom, he had been taught, was to pay attention, and the first step to that was clearing the mind.
He inhaled deeply, the acrid smell of the forge filling his nostrils. The coals, which had spent the day roaring under the wind of the bellows, were quiet now, only occasionally crackling as they split under their own heat. Beyond that, he could hear the voices from inside the house; the evening birds giving their last chirps of the day; and further off, barely audible, the strains of a fiddle coming from the village inn. Thomas listened to it all, breathing deeply.
Images raced thro
