At dusk on Day ninety-one, Brenn and Oakhart returned to the base camp beside the cut rails. He carried their heavy pry-bars and sledgehammers.
The two veteran quarrymen smelled of sweat, crushed limestone, and cold mountain wind. They had inspected the boundary seams of the newly arrived gully, had helped Yseld rig the fixed hand-lines down the two steep bench-steps, and had made a final circuit along the eastern rim of Coldwork Bench to verify that the timber barrier fence remained rock-solid.
Kezra Venn sat propped against a timber baulk near the camp fire bowl, two heavy wool blankets wrapped around her shoulders, a tin cup of warm barley broth held between her trembling hands.
Beside her, Fellis Dain laid six heavy silver crowns and four silver bits onto the flat surface of an upturned ration box. The full guild double-hazard wages promised to both men, plus an extra silver crown for the speed and care of their labor. Alongside the coins lay a formal written receipt signed by Kezra and co-signed by Paxa Sel, acknowledging their service on behalf of Joric Thane’s merchant network.
The parting with Brenn and Oakhart was marked by the quiet, unpretentious camaraderie of men who lived by their hands.
