Have Sword, Will Travel

by Garth Nix

  With that, the dragon launched herself upward, wings extending as she leaped. An enormous downdraft tumbled Odo and Eleanor end over end and enveloped them in dust. When it was past, they slowly staggered to their feet, coughing and choking.

  “Sir Odo,” said Eleanor, with a small laugh that hinted at the potential to become a sob.

  “Sir Eleanor,” croaked Odo.

  “Our knights!” chorused Biter and Runnel, flinging themselves together with a clash of steel that made their wielders wince, both at the suddenness of the movement and the sound it made.

  “What do we do now?” asked Odo. He looked around the battlefield. The sun was just dipping below the horizon, and under its last red light there seemed to be no living or even wounded bandits in the immediate area. Quenwulf had slain all that remained. The fire on the palisade was almost out, the bucket brigade now reinforced with all the former defenders as well as the unarmed villagers. They hadn’t spared a moment to do more than glance warily at the dragon as she passed judgment. One perfectly natural fire was enough to worry about.

  “Round up the ones who got away?” suggested Eleanor, not very enthusiastically. She was exhausted, but the bandits would be trouble and needed to be dealt with. It was knight’s business and she would do what had to be done.

  Odo started to nod, then shook his head.

  “We have to,” said Eleanor wearily. “They’ll attack another vill —”

  “Look behind you, Sir Knight.”

  The first of the bandits had stepped out of the forest, holding his hands above his head. He was followed by several others, and then more, all of them trudging along with their heads down and their hands up.

  Behind them, keeping to the forest shadows even in the twilight, came many urthkin, their sword-knives out and ready. At the tree line, their leader bowed low, to touch the earth.

  Sir Odo and Sir Eleanor returned the gesture, then saluted with their swords.

  “The voice of the dragon was felt in the earth, Sir Odo,” said the leader. “We always come when called.”

  Smiths came out of the gate bearing chains to bind the captives, Master Thrytin leading them with Toland at his side. They too bowed before the weary knights, though not to the ground.

  “This is the stuff of legend!” cried Thrytin. “You have saved Anfyltarn, the river, all of the North! And Great Quenwulf, creature of ancient tales —”

  “I saw her speak to you!” babbled Toland. “The dragon!”

  “Whatever we can do for you, Sir Odo, Sir Eleanor, we shall do! What is your need?”

  “Food,” said Odo.

  “Water,” said Eleanor. “And a bed.” With Sir Saskia disposed of, going home could wait one more night.

  “You shall have it!” exclaimed Master Thrytin. “And your swords will be cleaned, oiled, and burnished. I will do it myself!”

  “No,” said Odo, gripping Biter tightly. “We look after our swords, as they look after us.”

  A month after their victory at Anfyltarn, Eleanor was standing knee-deep in a strong current of clear, pale brown river water. Eels darted to and fro in front of her, seeking somewhere to hide, but there was no escaping her aim, which had always been mostly lethal but was now entirely so after hours of training under Runnel’s direction. Boredom and frustration further made her the terror of all nearby river creatures.

  One eel’s life was saved by her best friend’s hail. Eleanor looked up hopefully to see Odo coming along the path from Lenburh.

  He shook his head and her face fell as it had many times before.

  “How long does it take to pack a traveling chest?” She stabbed at another, less fortunate eel. “That ancient, one-footed, cross-eyed, barrel-bellied —”

  “Sir Eleanor!”

  Odo shared her annoyance with Sir Halfdan’s tardiness, but felt it beneath their newfound dignity as knights to be cursing another knight. Particularly as Sir Halfdan might hear about the indiscretion through village gossip, if overheard, and he was offering to personally, and proudly, introduce them to the court of the king — who would, he assured them, have many tasks for the kingdom’s newest knights. All they had to be was patient.

  “Don’t fret on it,” said Odo.

  “I can’t help it. I’m bored.”

  Time passed slowly, even with memories of their accomplishments to mull over.

  “A knight’s work is not made entirely of adventures,” said Runnel from where she watched on the grassy bank, point thrust firmly into the ground.

  “Just one more would be good …”

  Odo stuck Biter next to Runnel, far from any possibility of coming into contact with water or eels, and picked up the wicker basket. There would be many murdered eels today, judging by Eleanor’s mood, which was fine from Odo’s perspective. He liked eel pie.

  “Why don’t we make our own adventure?” Odo asked her as he joined her out in the river. The water was cold with the coming winter, but not yet icy.

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. Hold a tournament perhaps, on the green. Offer a prize or something?”

  “A test of skill,” called Biter approvingly over the rippling water. “An excellent idea!”

  “One that would serve well to advertise your considerable prowess,” Runnel agreed.

  “Why would anyone come to Lenburh?” Eleanor said disconsolately. “It’s leagues from anywhere.”

  “They might,” Odo said. “Better than just practicing, though?”

  Eleanor was about to answer when both knights heard a hue and cry rising up from along the path.

  “Sir Odd! Sir Eel! Come quickly!”

  Eleanor sighed. It was the baker twins, Aaric and Addyson, whose demeanor around Eleanor and Odo had been only slightly improved by the knights’ triumphant return to Lenburh. Apart from the nicknames, the twins were now the source of an incessant stream of requests to deal with minor irritations and slights, far below a knight’s calling.

  “What is it this time?” asked Eleanor wearily. “Pickles the cat hissed at you? A malevolent tree root tripped you?”

  “No! No! This is real,” protested Aaric, coming to a panting halt on the shore. He did seem to be actually frightened, not pretending. “It’s the village — We’re under attack!”

  “By an army of frogs?” scoffed Odo.

  “No, a blind king has come,” said Addyson. “Pursued by bilewolves close behind! You must help!”

  Eleanor and Odo burst out laughing. This was the most absurd attempt to rile them yet.

  “Begone, gang-toothed squiddlers!” barked Biter, launching himself out of the grass and into Odo’s hand, making him slash a threatening line through the air. “Ere you find yourselves bisected!”

  “Trisected!” added Runnel, flying to Eleanor’s grasp and adding her own flourish to her brother’s. The swords shone brilliantly in the afternoon light, polished and oiled to a state of perfection.

  Ordinarily this would be enough to send the twins off at speed, but not this time.

  “We aren’t joking,” gabbled Aaric. “The blind king, he’s real, and Silbey the shepherd has been bitten — it’s horrible, her flesh eaten away. Your dad’s there, Eleanor, seeing what can be done but —”

  “We need your help!” exclaimed Addyson.

  Eleanor lowered the eel-spear. Odo could see now that Addyson’s face was deathly pale, and not from flour. Aaric’s hands trembled, clasped before him in apparently sincere pleading. Eleanor glanced at Odo, who was no longer smiling.

  In the distance, there came a long, howling cry. It rose and fell, the sound sending shivers up everyone’s spines.

  “Bilewolf,” said Runnel. “Sounds like a big one too.”

  Eleanor looked at Odo. He nodded. Aaric and Addyson parted as the knights ran through and past them, heading to the village, straight toward where the howl had come from.

  “For Lenburh!” Odo cried.

  “For Lenburh!”

  Garth Nix and Sean Williams first collab
orated on the Troubletwisters series, which they followed with a book in the Spirit Animals series, Blood Ties. Garth is also the bestselling author of the Seventh Tower series, the Keys to the Kingdom series, the Old Kingdom series, and Frogkisser! Sean’s bestselling novels include those in the Twinmaker series and several in the Star Wars® universe. Both Garth and Sean live in Australia — Garth in Sydney and Sean in Adelaide. This is their first book featuring Odo, Eleanor, and Biter … but it won’t be their last.

  Text copyright © 2017 by Garth Nix and Sean Williams

  Map copyright © 2017 by D.M. Cornish

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First printing 2017

  Jacket art © 2017 by Ross Dearsley

  Jacket design by Christopher Stengel

  e-ISBN 978-1-338-15848-9

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