Ironhand's Daughter A Novel of The Hawk Queen

Chapter One Tovi closed the double doors of his oven, removed his apron, and wiped the flour from his face with a clean towel. The day's bread was laid out on wooden trays, stacked six high, and the smell of the baking filled his nostrils. Even after all these years he still loved that smell. Taking a sample loaf, he cut through the center. It was rich and light, with no pockets of air. Behind him his apprentice, Stalf, breathed a silent sigh of relief. Tovi turned to the boy. "Not bad," he said. Cutting two thick slices, he smeared them with fresh butter and passed one to the boy. Moving to the rear door, Tovi stepped outside. Above the stone and timber buildings of the village the dawn sun was clearing the peaks and a fresh breeze was blowing from the north. The bakery stood at the center of the village, an old three-story building that once had been the council house. In the days when we were allowed a council, thought Tovi sourly. The buildings surrounding the bakery were sturdily built, and old. Farther down the hill were the simpler timber dwellings of the poorer folk. Tovi stepped out into the road and gazed down the hill to the river. The villagers were stirring and several women were already kneeling by the waterside, washing clothes and blankets, beating them against the white rocks at the water's edge. Tovi saw the black-clad Widow Maffrey making her way to the communal well. He waved and smiled and she nodded as she passed. The smith, Grame, was lighting his forge. Seeing Tovi, he strolled across. Soot had smeared the smith's thick white beard. "Good day to you, Baker," said Grame. "And to you. It looks a fine one. Nary a cloud in sight. I see you have the Baron's greys in your stalls. Fine beasts." "Finer than the man who owns them. One of them has a split hoof, and both carry spur scars. No way to treat good horses. I'll take a loaf, if you please. One with a crust as black as sin and a center as white as a nun's soul." Tovi shook his head. "You'll take what I give you, man, and be glad of it, for you'll not taste a better piece of bread anywhere in the kingdom. Stalf! Fetch a loaf for the smith." The boy brought it out, wrapped in muslin. Dipping his huge hand into the pocket of his leather apron, Grame produced two small copper coins that he dropped into Stalf's outstretched palm. The boy bowed and backed away. "It'll be a good summer," said Grame, tearing off a chunk of bread and pushing it into his mouth. "Let us hope so," said Tovi. The dwarf Ballistar approached them, laboring up the steep hill. He gave an elaborate bow. "Good morning to you," said Ballistar. "Am I late for breakfast?" "Not if you have coin, little man," said Tovi, eyes narrowing. The dwarf made him feel uncomfortable, and he found himself growing irritable. "No coin," the dwarf told him affably, "but I have three hares hanging." "Caught by Sigarni, no doubt!" snapped the baker. "I don't know why she should be so generous with you." "Perhaps she likes me," answered Ballistar, no trace of anger in his tone. Tovi called for another loaf which he gave the dwarf. "Bring me the best hare tonight," he said. "Why does he anger you so?" asked Grame as the dwarf wandered away. Tovi shrugged. "He's cursed. He should have been laid aside at birth. What good is he to man or beast? He cannot hunt, cannot work. If not for Sigarni maybe he would leave the village. He could join a circus! Such as he could earn an honest living there, capering and the like." "You're turning into a sour old man, Tovi." "And you are getting fat!" "Aye, that's the truth. But I still remember the wearing of the Red. That's something I'll takeGemmell, David is the author of 'Ironhand's Daughter A Novel of The Hawk Queen', published 2004 under ISBN 9780345458384 and ISBN 0345458389.