"What about him?" Bolin pressed. "When he fights, does he hide in the back or charge at the front?"
"He scouts on the front lines and tests weapons himself. I've fought beside him. He's very brave." Ola's admiration was plain as he spoke. "He says being a lord isn't a title. It's a job."
After a long silence, Bolin stood.
"A dwarf who doesn't act like a dwarf, defending land that isn't his for a noble who doesn't act like a noble... interesting."
Just then, Ola hammered in the final rivet.
He turned the shield over and ran his palm across it. This was the first piece he and his uncle had made together in fourteen years.
Bolin walked over to the shield, hefted it to judge its weight, then rapped his knuckles against its face.
"Good shield."
It was the highest praise Ola had ever heard from him.
Bolin hung the shield in the most prominent spot on the wall, then turned and went into the storeroom.
A moment later, he emerged with an oilcloth bundle.
"Three military-grade 'Eye of the Storm' Mark III wind crossbows, with a hundred and twenty barbed armor-piercing bolts and three spare sets of steel strings included. They're in Warehouse Three by the south gate. Here's the key." He tossed Ola a brass key.
Ola's heart gave a violent leap. He caught the key, its cold touch almost bringing tears to his eyes.
"But." Bolin took out a ledger. "There's a bill to settle."
He opened the ledger and read out the charges one by one. "Fourteen years ago, one 'Skullsplitter' battleaxe. Market price at the time: three hundred and eighty gold coins. Fourteen years of compound interest, according to Six Peaks Mountain Usury rules... I'll give you a discount. One thousand Gold Suns."