People of the Flood (Ark Chronicles 2)
“ Ham amputated. It was a grisly affair. He drank that night. In the morning, bleary-eyed, he looked for Kush, finding him hard at work.
The smithy shed was gloomy, with a hot glow from the furnace and sparks flying as Kush wielded his mallet with metallic clangs. Two of his grandsons blew through tubes, keeping the furnace hot.
Ham went to the pitted table and picked up a bronze arrow. Both the shaft and the head were made of bronze.
Kush dourly eyed him before tapping out the next arrow, picking it up with tongs. Hisses rose from its water-bath.
“I take it these are for the dragon,” Ham said.
Kush grunted an affirmative.
“No one will be able to shoot such arrows far,” Ham said.
Kush told the boys to go outside. When they had left, he said, “What does that matter to a brave man?”
Ham waved the arrow.
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