What did Aucnus know about iron? He saw lumbermen wield their axes and marvelled at the strength of the metal which felled powerful oaks. The shears he saw used on sheep once a year were also made of iron. He was given them to hold once, and found them cold and unpleasant to the touch. 

The shepherd once told Aucnus that iron was extracted from the earth. In his imagination, the boy saw a huge cave like the one into which sheep are driven during the winter's cold. In that cave, giants hammered away day and night at its hard iron walls. That was why, most likely, the earth quaked once in a while.
When Aucnus was sixteen he knew as little about iron as the savages on the shore of the distant northern sea where the waves spewed out pieces of congealed yellow tar. Aucnus had grown up in the Ciminian Hills, which were considered unapproachable in those times. It was a rare traveller indeed, who would venture into the deep of the forests there for fear of beasts and robbers. But the Romans, insatiable in their greed for wealth and power, spurned all dangers and penetrated into the Ciminian Hills. 
Their attack was so unexpected that the local warriors could barely resist them. The elders of the Umbrian villages called all young shepherds and timberers together and bade them to fight. 
Ever since then, Aucnus associated iron with the sparkle of Roman armour and Roman helmets, and the venomous whistling of darts and spears. The shepherds turned and ran, dropping their staves and catapults. Iron smelled of blood. Aucnus remembered the smell, because he carried a wounded shepherd on his back. A dart had stuck so deeply under his shoulderblade, they had a hard time pulling it out. Whereupon the shepherd died. Aucnus had looked with hate and repugnance at the bloody piece of metal. 
The Romans seized Aucnus in the woods, the very moment when he had believed himself safe. They put chains on his legs and drove him with sticks and canes across the country to the sea. Aucnus was blind to everything around him. All he felt was the weight of the irons and the pain in his bleeding feet. 
He was relieved of the chains when brought aboard a ship. They were removed before he was pushed into the hold filled with other captives like himself. Aucnus did not see their faces but heard their groans, and retched from the stink of their bodies. By their speech he learned that they were Umbrians like himself. 
"Mind my words," somebody whispered, "we're being taken to Populonium." 
People responded with cries of terror. 
Unseen waves brushed against the side of the ship. Stroking his swollen ankles, Aucnus remembered the pine trees reaching into the sky with their tips, the odours of rotting leaves and grass, and the smell of the hearth. 
After the hours spent in the stuffy hold, the sea air was fresh and fragrant. Aucnus inhaled deeply and wondered why the other captives were so hopelessly troubled. They said they were frightened by the columns of smoke rising from behind the hills on the shore.
 "It's Populonium," someone stammered behind his back. 
Aucnus turned. He wanted to ask why the mention of Populonium was so terrifying. What difference did a place make once you were a slave? But a passing sailor struck him and pushed him on to the gang plank. 
From other ships emerged people carrying heavy sacks. They poured the contents into carts and returned in silence for more. 
Aucnus wondered why earth was carried in ships from abroad. But he wisely decided not to ask.
The man who passed close to him could have been a devil from the nether world — the kind priests spoke of to frighten villagers. He had a sharp nose and his face and hands were so dark he must have come from Hell.
 "Hey, newcomer," he accosted Aucnus, "you don't happen to come from Cossyrar.
Aucnus shook his head: "No, I'm from the Ciminian Hills." 
The dark one said he was looking for a countryman. 
A few minutes later, Aucnus and his mates off the ship were trudging along a dusty road. The bushes on both sides were grey, even black. And the peaked hills beyond the bushes were of the same colour, looking much like burial mounds. 
This did not frighten Aucnus. Clearly, the soot and dirt on the faces of men, on trees and on the ground came from the giant fires he had seen from the ship. 
After a turn in the road he saw a hill with crimson flames spewing from its top. Half-naked men were running to and fro. It was as though they were performing some sacred dance in honour of the fire god. After a closer look, Aucnus realised they were not dancing. Some had spades in their hands and were digging ditches, Others carried boxes and put them under the fiery stream that flowed from the hill. It was so unbearably bright that Aucnus shut his eyes. 
Who would have thought this was molten iron out of which people made axes and chains, and the earth put into sacks and carried from the holds of ships was ore shipped from the little island called Ilva, a little way across the sea from Populonium, and this ore was melted in furnaces. 
An overseer gave Aucnus a spade and made him shovel burnt-out ore. I le called it slag. The peaked mounds the boy had seen on the way from the harbour were, he discovered, mounds of slag. 
Aucnus kept a wary eye on everything happening around him, He saw mountains of coal and concluded that coal was burned in the furnaces together with the ore. He figured that the coal was obtained somewhere near by, in the mountains, 
And he was not wrong. The coal came from the forests visible in the distance.
Aucnus learned that free people worked there, while slaves toiled beside the blazing furnaces. Their bodies and faces were covered with scars and burns. Only a few last- ed more than a year. Those who survived, grew weak as babies. 
Iron. Now Aucnus knew everything about it. Before becoming an axe, sword or chain, it was ore and coal, the tiredness that seized one's body, a stream of fire that blinded one s eves, the whistling lash of whips, and the pits into which the dead were thrown. 
"I must escape." was the thought that never gave Aucnus any pence. It had impregnated itself upon his mind and upon all the dreams he saw in his sleep. Aucnus dreamed of himself running away or hiding. 
Looking for a way to escape, he sought the company of other slaves. Among them were talkative Gauls and sullen Ligurians, quick Greeks and clumsy Sardians. The furnace owners, who feared a conspiracy, preferred to have people of different tribes and tongues. Aucnus noticed finally that a red-headed Gaul, called Cyclops because a red-hot drop of iron had burned out his left eye, enjoyed authority among the slaves. He tried to call Cyclops's attention to himself, but the latter pretended not to notice. 
Attaching himself to the Gauls. Aucnus gradually learned to understand their speech. One night he heard someone whisper: "Iron is our salvation rather than our legs". At first, Aucnus could not understand the meaning of those words. He thought it was because he did not know the language well enough. But giving it some thought, he realised that the speaker had not meant the iron they smelted, but arms made of iron. 
In the morning. Aucnus came up to Cyclops and said: 
I'am Umbrian. you are Gaul. But both of us are slaves. Don't leave me out. I can be useful."
This time, too, Cyclops pushed Aucnus away. He was evidently afraid that the boy was the overseer's spy. 
But he came up to Aucnus in the evening and asked, looking him in the eyes: 
"Are you ready to stand the test of fire?" 
"Yes," Aucnus replied without a second's thought. 
"Come, then." 
They came to a furnace. The Gaul held a stick with an iron tip. He dipped it in the fiery stream, then placed it on Aucnus's shoulder. 
The Umbrian clenched his teeth to keep himself from groaning. 
"Now repeat after me: May I burn in the flames if I betray my friends".
Cyclops did not remove the iron until Aucnus had repeated that vow. 
"Now you are our brother," the Gaul said, embracing Aucnus. "Our secrets are your secrets." 
Cyclops walked over the piles of slag and jumped over the ditches. Aucnus barely managed to keep up. He saw some black pile in the darkness before him. It was an old, abandoned furnace. Bunches of grass stuck out here and there from its walls, and stems of flowers with as yet closed buds. Life triumphed over the dead monster. 
The two friends crept into the opening that had once spewed molten metal. Cyclops stretched out his hands for something, and Aucnus heard the ringing of metal. 
"Hold on," he said to Aucnus over his shoulder, putting some object into his hands. 
It turned out to be a clumsy self-made sword. But Aucnus did not feel its weight. He grasped its iron handle, and knew he would not let go of it until he won his freedom.

Alexander Nemirovsky, "Tales Of The Ancient World"

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