Sword Bearer (Return of the Dragons)

by Jacobs, Teddy

  Below the steel the wooden blade burned crimson in the wizard fire. The hilt’s colors pulsed so rapidly that I could see no dominant one: blue, green, golden, red, crimson. I knew that the hilt was master of them all, that whoever mastered this sword was master of a great kingdom, or would be. For everything in the world was in this sword’s pommel, and many of the world’s peoples, the three royal bloodlines, were in its blade.

  The songs grew louder, and even with my ears covered I felt pain. I knew there was something I must do, then, but I was afraid to do it, and afraid too, that if I made the slightest mistake, everything would go wrong. That would be the end of me, and the world would have one less sixteen year old prince.

  What would happen after would not be my problem, but I had a feeling it would be ugly.

  I couldn’t live in fear, though. I had to accept my destiny. At least that’s what I told myself.

  I let my hands fall from my ears and opened my eyes.

  All hell broke loose. The song blasted into me. The pain was overwhelming. My vision was a white blur; my hearing screeching pain. Would I every see or hear again?

  My mouth opened then and I sang. Suddenly the song around me blended. It was loud, but the volume didn’t bother me any more.

  The song pulled energy from the burning wood, from the three parts of the metal blade, from the pommel, from the very air around me. But it was my song now, and everything that entered my ears broken and separate poured out of my mouth whole and joined.

  I moved forward as the song pulled me to the sword. The heat of the furnace singed my hair. My voice reached out into the blade, and there was a flash.

  The song was over.

  The sword was whole.

  I didn’t need to look at it with my third eye. I heard its song with my ears — blended, harmonious, pure.

  I stepped back, and Cullen whistled, taking off his ear cuffs and helmet.

  “Never in my life have I seen or heard such a thing, never in my life shall I hear or see such a thing again.”

  Cullen pulled out the sword and we stared at it. The blade was shiny. I could see my image reflected upon it — bad skin, singed hair and all. Even though I was exhausted and even hungrier than before, I smiled.

  I looked around and saw Kalle and Kara smiling as well.

  They were standing close together, I noticed, and there was something odd about their posture. It took me a moment to realize what it was.

  They were holding hands.

  Kara met my gaze, and she nodded.

  I felt like such an idiot. How could I have missed it?

  Cullen looked at me. “The blade must be struck one last time. Will you strike it, Anders son of Tomas?”

  I nodded, and Cullen handed me the hammer.

  “When you strike your blade, you should hear the one true note. The note you’ll hear in battle, when your blade strikes an enemy.”

  And if the blade didn’t ring true?

  The hammer felt heavy and cold in my hand.

  What was I doing here? How could anyone believe a sixteen year old with no friends and bad skin was their long-awaited prince? The whole thing seemed suddenly ridiculous.

  I held the hammer tightly, ready to put it back down.

  I heard a noise behind me.

  I turned back. Woltan stood at the doorway.

  Woltan smiled a thin smile.

  “Go ahead, Anders, strike,” he said. “I just want to watch.”

  I looked at Cullen. He nodded. I looked at Kara and Kalle. They nodded, hand in hand. Everyone was waiting for me. I hoped I wouldn’t disappoint them.

  I lifted the hammer and struck the blade.

  The note was pure and low and it resonated throughout my body.

  The blade didn’t move.

  Instead the ground and the armory shook as the blade stood still.

  The note seemed to resonate forever. Finally, it quieted.

  There was a very short moment afterward in which everything seemed to stand still.

  Then the armory was full of people. Loud people. There was a great deal of rejoicing and lots of pushing, until everyone who had been waiting quietly outside for the end of the forging entered. I felt strange and embarrassed.

  Everyone seemed to be trying to get a look at me and at my new sword. I almost blushed.

  But when I concentrated on the one note, still ringing in my ears, the embarrassment went away. Then my mind and heart were clear.

  Although I was still very hungry.

  I concentrated on the note, and it grew louder within me. The sound rose until my ears hummed with it, and blocked out everything else. All my confusion about what I was doing here. All my confusion about Kara and Kalle. About my blood.

  Instead there was nothing but the note.

  When I looked then at the sword with my third eye, the blade called to me, its voice high and fluid like quicksilver, and I held out my hand.

  The blade leaped into it.

  The song coursed through me and I felt a wild urge to scream out words in languages that rushed through my blood. Finally the song died down for the second time. Nothing more than a strange buzzing sensation remained on my skin. I let the sword fall into the scabbard at my hip.

  Everyone was looking at me.

  Cullen, Kalle, Kara and Woltan stood apart from the rest.

  Everyone was silent. Cullen suddenly smiled and clapped me on the shoulder.

  “Well, lad, if ever two people have earned a hearty breakfast, I think that would be us two.”

  That broke the ice.

  Everyone started talking at once and touching me. That made me a little nervous, but the hands were friendly.

  Then it was Kara pressed up against me, hugging me.

  For a moment I forget all about the three bloods, all about destiny and sorcery. A warm flush came to my face and I smiled awkwardly at her, wanting nothing more than to run my fingers across her face, along the perfect skin of her neck.

  But I couldn’t. I felt it, and she must have felt it too.

  She let me go quickly then, but not before kissing me on the cheek.

  I felt the blush spread throughout my limbs, a warmness sweeping over me.

  Kara was pulling on my hand, and leading me out of the armory.

  Once again I let myself be led.

  Chapter XI

  I reached down to feel my thigh. The new steel blade felt cold at my side. Part of me missed the wooden sword, and my youth with it. I had worn it for just one day but already it had felt like an extension of my arm, of my hand, of my mind and my spirit. And I knew it had been — I had seen my aura extend through my hand into the sword’s pommel and into the sword.

  I wondered what the new sword would feel like, in my hand. But at the same time I was scared. So many years pining away in my room, worrying about my skin and wishing for adventure, and now adventure was upon me, and what did I feel?

  Excitement? Happiness?

  No, just hunger. And little bit of fear.

  Was I ready?

  Was I really their prince? Or just a boy with a special sword?

  My stomach grumbled. In any case, I was hungry.

  Which was a good thing, because the food was piled high on the stone table in front of me. I stared at it. I had seen banquets, when my parents had entertained. I’d seen tables piled high with food and drink, the air full of the smell of roast pork and venison sausage. I’d heard musicians play their fiddles and guitars and sing ballads of praise for King Lowen, far off in the North in his castle made of clear wizard’s glass. I remembered being filled with wanderlust, the urge to travel, to see those far off lands.

  Now, I was in a far off land, in a city I had never even heard of, so well had it been forgotten. And a feast was in front of me, in my honor.

  I realized suddenly that everyone, except for Kalle, at my side, was staring at me. It felt strange to be looked at by so many people. I looked down at my plate, which was empty.

  “Eat,
Anders, son of Tomas, and then we will talk. You must fill your stomach, before we fill your ears.”

  There was laughter, and I looked up. I recognized Woltan across the table. He was smiling, and pointing to the food. “Serve yourself, Anders,” he said, his voice now low. “Some of the food may look strange to you, may be strange to you, but nothing here will make you sick. Try a little of everything to start, maybe. And drink some juice. We squeeze our fruit before each meal, and blend them to make a refreshing drink.”

  I nodded. Woltan stood up, and filled my glass. I brought it to my lips and took a sip. It was sweet and tasted very fresh. I took another gulp. I felt energy come into my body. I stood up, feeling myself on stage, and served myself from the serving plates around us — a vegetable stew, some type of fowl, perhaps a small kind of chicken, and some fruit, cut into slices.

  I sat down and began to eat, and I heard the quiet hall reanimate — people began to talk around me. Perhaps they had been waiting to see if I would talk, or I would eat, and if I would say anything.

  I paid them no mind.

  I ate.

  There must have been something in the soil. Or in the light, or the water. Everything made my taste buds tingle. Warmth radiated out from my mouth and my stomach and my throat to the rest of my body.

  I bit into the tender bird meat, and the juices ran down the sides of my face. The meat was spiced with some kind of hot pepper that burned my tongue, but in a nice way. I drank some more juice and everything seemed to come together. My body felt whole, and before I knew it, I was eating for pleasure. My hunger was gone, and the weakness with it.

  My body had been empty but pure. Now it was filled with this luminous food and drink. Looking around with my third eye I could see how everything around me glowed, and how my aura was turning a bright golden hue, like the food. If this was some kind of magic, it was good magic, and if it wasn’t magic, it was all the more amazing.

  I refilled my plate.

  Kalle patted me on the back, and laughed. “We Kriek are accustomed to good eating, but this is better still. A true festen. Can you feel the food inside you? It warms the blood and spreads good energy throughout. Like the nuts that we roasted.”

  I nodded. “I feel this warmth radiating out from my stomach, melting away all my worries.”

  Kalle laughed. “Sounds like you’re drunk.”

  I smiled. “I had apple wine at my cousin’s wedding once, and it felt a little like this.”

  Woltan spoke then. “But your head feels clearer, I bet.”

  I nodded. “I feel clear and connected to everything. Not at all tipsy.”

  Woltan laughed. “Then now would be a good time to talk.”

  The room was suddenly silent once again, and I put down my fork.

  “Keep eating, but if you’re ready, I have a lot to tell you.”

  “I have a lot of questions, too.”

  Woltan smiled. “Of course you do. A few days ago you were just a boy. Now we are calling you a three-blooded prince. Rest assured, all your questions will be answered, in time.”

  Kalle cleared his throat. “Time, though, is what we don’t have much of now, right?”

  Woltan nodded. “The hordes of the dark lord approach. Those keiler that attacked you were only scouts. They have followed the road to us, and reported back its location to the dark lord. We have watched his ascendance for years, and knew this day would come. What we don’t know is, are we prepared?”

  “What does your preparation depend on?” I asked.

  Woltan looked me straight in the eye. The hall was silent again.

  “We have many lines of defense, both magical and mechanical. We have the strong warriors you see at this table. We have the elders, who will fight with us, and our ancestors, who will come as spirits to serve as scouts and sentinels for us. But what we were not sure, and some of us are still not sure...” He stopped and looked down the table at a group of whispering warriors, who stopped talking and stared at us. “Some of us are still not sure whether you are the three blooded prince, the one who will lead the three peoples against the dark lord. I am convinced. But what about you? Do you know it in your heart, in your blood, Anders son of Tomas?”

  I paused for a moment. I looked up and down the hall, and I saw every face looking at me. There must have been forty people staring. These were to take on the army of the dark lord? These short young warriors, few of them any taller than me? Something told me no one wanted the truth, whatever it was. They wanted a speech. I looked inside myself, and I listened to my blood, and then I stood, and I spoke.

  “I know one thing now for sure: I am of three bloods, and they speak to me when I listen. But don’t ask me what it all means. All I can hope is it will become clear to me with your help, and that I will prove worthy of your hope.”

  There was a moment of silence, and then Woltan stood.

  “Your worthiness will have to be tested all too soon, I’m afraid. You’re young. As you can see, we’re all young here. But the enemy approaches, as we eat.”

  A man stood up at the end of the table. He was young too, but not as young as the others. He was one of the warriors who had been whispering before and looking at us.

  “I, Mortimer son of Lars, ask to speak.”

  Woltan nodded.

  “You say, Woltan, we are all young here. This is true. But the so-called prince that you bring before us is a mere boy. A sixteen year old boy is going to save us? His young arms will strike the blows that will topple the Dark Lord? Has he even reached the age of manhood? Has he ever even been kissed or swung a sword?”

  He sat down.

  I felt my face turn red, and I looked down at the food in front of me.

  Kara stood up. “I’ve known this young man, that you call a boy, for only two days. But he passed three tests of manhood in that time — defeating his swordmaster in battle, making contact and transporting through a Kriek portal, and killing with a wooden sword a keiler of the dark lord. He rode the secret road of power to your fair city, and opened the gate to allow us in. If he began this journey as a boy, I call him a man, now, and am proud to be his companion.”

  There was silence for a moment.

  Kara smiled. “And I kissed him.”

  There was laughter, then, but I couldn’t help notice Kalle look away.

  Somehow I was standing.

  “I’ve not had much of a boyhood. I knew nothing of these three bloods of which you speak. All my childhood was spent studying, with precious little training for battle or wizardry. When Kara came to me through a Kriek portal, I was locked in my study room, waiting for release. I cannot miss my boyhood, because I never had one. But I’ll do what I have to, because I’ve heard my blood sing. It told me what to do then, and it will tell me what to do again, when the time comes.”

  Kalle stood up. “I, Kalle, son of Hendrick, would speak.”

  Woltan nodded. “Kalle Hendrickson, we listen to your words.”

  And the hall was silent.

  “I too have known Anders for a short time, but I can think of no one I would trust more protecting my back. He is young, and inexperienced, but looking down this table I see plenty almost as green as he. He is as worthy in battle as many a warrior twice his age, both with his wooden blade, and with his magic. Had he not figured out how to enter your city, all would have been lost. Kara and I were helpless before the lightning storm that assailed us.”

  There was a murmur that went down the table.

  Jona stood up then. “Never before in the time even of our elders has anyone entered the gate. The passwords are long forgotten. We lie trapped in this city. Those who managed to leave, are in exile forever. That he disarmed the gate and entered is just one more sign that he is the boy warrior mage, the three blooded sorcerer prince.”

  A voice came from far down the table. “I, for one, witnessed the forging of this sword, and the sound that came from him and it was one and true, and proof enough for me. Let he be tested once again, if
there are doubts.”

  It was Cullen, the smith. I couldn’t help smiling, although I didn’t like the idea of any more testing.

  Kara must not have either, because she stood up then. “Anders has been tested enough. What he needs is your support, and training.”

  “I will train him in wizardry,” Woltan said. “And our blademaster will train him in all our arts of war.” He looked down the long table. “But come, we must seek more private counsel.” He stood up, and everyone else did too.

  I grabbed a roll and a piece of fruit. Stressed as I was, I knew I’d be hungry again soon. Woltan took the lead, and Jona followed him, and I followed her. Kalle and Kara kept close behind me.

  We walked down a corridor and into a small room, with dark wood floors and walls, and a huge window in the ceiling. The light felt good on my skin.

  A round table stood underneath the skylight, with large wooden chairs. Woltan gestured for us to sit down.

  Kara cleared her throat. “How much time do we have left, until the Dark Lord gathers his forces?”

  Woltan shook his head. “Perhaps a month, two months, maybe more, but we doubt it.”

  “Is that enough time to train Anders in the arts of your people?” Kara said. “If I understand right, he must be trained in the arts of the three bloodlines. As Kriek, we can teleport him to our city, but to get to the merpeople we will have to travel by land. All I know about the route is that it is long, and perilous.”

  “We have maps here, that may serve,” Woltan replied. “Obviously none of us have traveled with them. I don’t know how much the earth has changed since they were drawn.”

  I looked at Woltan. “Do you have books of magic? I have so much to learn.”

  Woltan smiled. “For someone who has so much to learn, you passed the tests remarkably well.”

  I shrugged. “My grandfather gave me a few words of power. My tutor, though, taught me little except for theory.”

  “If you will have me, young Anders, I will be your spellmaster for your time here. My father will help too, and all of my ancestors with which I still have contact. The dead speak here, too, and many of them are our friends.”