You’ve seen all those red rocks in Plakand, haven’t you?
“Oh, yes. Plakand’s red from one end to the other.”
There’s a metal called iron in those rocks. Men couldn’t smelt it out of those rocks until they learned how to make hotter fires. Iron is harder than bronze, but it’s brittle. It has to be mixed with other metals to make weapons or tools.
“It’s completely replaced bronze, then?”
For most things, yes.
“It might be better than bronze, but it’s not as pretty."

If he's only a boy, what was he doing in a war?"
"He comes from a warrior culture. They start earlier than civilized people do. It was his first war, and it was supposed to be a quiet one. The half-wit who sits on the throne in Kanthon got carried away, though, so he ordered the soldiers he'd hired from Eliar's Clan Chief to invade your father's territory. It was a stupid thing to do, and it wasn't supposed to happen. It was his fault that your father got killed, not Eliar's. Eliar was only following orders. The whole business was the result of a series of stupid mistakes, but that's what most wars are all about, I guess. Nobody ever really wins a war, when you get right down to it.

What's it like?" Andine asked curiously. "Hearing the thoughts of others, I mean?"
"Disturbing," Leitha replied. "What people say and what they're thinking don't always exactly match. We're much closer to being animals than most of us would care to admit.