“Me too,” said Sawyer. “So what happened to the werewolf? It almost had me.”
“We don’t know,” said Jane. “After you jumped it disappeared back into the forest and we didn’t see it again.”
Ariel walked over to Sawyer and examined his shoulder. She performed the same healing spell she used on the unicorn and immediately the pain left him. He felt warm and refreshed.
“You are lucky,” she said. “Not many can singlehandedly kill a river troll.”
“Well, I had this,” said Sawyer, holding the sword up for all to see.
Ariel took the sword from Sawyer and looked at it. She looked as if she recognized an old friend.
“Sawyer,” she said quietly, “you found this and killed the troll with it?”
“Yeah,” said Sawyer. “It lunged at me and I stabbed it.”
He motioned with a finger to his eye, indicating where the fatal blow landed.
“Wow!” Geoff looked at the shiny sword as it reflected the sunlight. “That is awesome! I’ve never seen anything like it. Ever.”
“Yeah,” said Sawyer. “It’s really sharp. It lights up too, just like your key. Hey, you guys think there may be a connection between them?”
Geoff and Jane looked at Ariel, who was still examining the sword. Sawyer was about to repeat the question when Ariel looked at him. Why is she staring? She looks like she is surprised or sizing me up, thought Sawyer.
“Stormblade,” she said quietly. “The lost sword of heroes.”
Chapter Eleven
Silverthorne Manor
“Sword of heroes?” asked Jane. “What do you mean?”
Ariel held the sword high and studied it, looking over every detail of the weapon. She studied the large sapphire embedded in the hilt and the intricate etchings along the blade.
“This…is the sword of legend.” Ariel stared at Sawyer. “The Stormblade had been lost for over a hundred years. How did you find it?”
“Like I said,” said Sawyer, swallowing, “I was swept into that hole and found the sword in the mud. When I pulled it out that’s when the monster—”
“River troll,” interrupted Ariel.
Sawyer blinked and looked at her.
“Yeah, okay. The river troll attacked me and I killed it. The sword electrocuted it or something when I stabbed it in the eye.”
“Just as easy as that?” asked Ariel.
Sawyer looked at the sword in her hands and nodded. “Yeah. I wouldn’t call it easy, but that’s what happened.”
“It’s beautiful! Look at the workmanship. I wonder who made it,” Geoff said.
“No one knows for sure,” said Ariel. “It is said the Stormblade was forged when Alluria was young. Long before men. Long before elves and dwarves.”
Ariel handed the sword back to Sawyer. As he grasped the hilt she said, “By right of combat, the sword is yours. But know this: the Stormblade is an arcane weapon, carried by the greatest heroes of the realm.”
Then she leaned forward and whispered, “Are you heroic?”
Before Sawyer could reply, Ariel released the sword and turned away. Sawyer held up the enchanted blade. It tingled in his hand.
“Are you mad at Sawyer?” asked Jane.
“No,” said Ariel, shaking her head. “I know not how arcane weapons choose who wields them.”
“Wait a minute,” said Sawyer. “Are you saying this is a magical sword? And it chose me?”
Ariel nodded. “Yes. Now come. We must be at Silverthorne Manor before nightfall.”
“But why? I mean…why me?” asked Sawyer.
“An excellent question,” said Ariel. “I, too, am puzzled by the sword’s choice.”
“Sawyer,” said Geoff, “can I hold it?”
“Yeah, sure. Here ya go.”
Sawyer handed the sword to Geoff and fell in line behind Ariel and Jane, who had already started walking away. Geoff stumbled along behind Sawyer, studying the sword.
“Sawyer, it’s so light! Look! The balance is perfect!” Geoff stopped and balanced the sword on his index finger. “This is what they call a long sword. It’s more of a chopping and thrusting weapon, but with this balance and how sharp it is, you could do anything with it.”
Geoff stopped and examined the blade.
“Hey,” said Geoff, “if this sword is so old and it was buried in the mud for a hundred years why is there no pitting? No damage whatsoever?”
“The enchantments on that sword protect it from damage,” said Ariel, looking over her shoulder.
“Oh yeah,” said Geoff. “I forgot. Magic. Cool!”
He carefully handed the sword back to Sawyer, who saw that there was a sort of reverence in the way Geoff held it, not unlike the way Ariel had handled it. Sawyer swung the sword a few times. It felt like he was simply waving his arm. The blade whistled as it sliced through the air. He held the sword up again. Wow, the sword of heroes, he thought. He noticed Ariel was watching every move, every swing he made. Sawyer lowered the sword and smiled. He felt his cheeks warm.
He noticed Ariel said nothing, but the look of disapproval on her face revealed her feelings about his possessing the sword. He quickened his pace so he was directly behind Ariel and Jane, who had started a conversation.
“So if Sawyer’s sword is magic, what does it do?”
“The wielder of the Stormblade is said to control the elements themselves—if the sword allows,” Ariel said.
“What does that mean?” asked Jane. “Is the sword alive or something?”
“Oh, yes,” said Ariel. “It is a sentient being in its own right. However, only a handful of arcane items have been known to form a bond with their masters. It is an extremely rare thing.”
“If it is alive,” said Jane, “then is it dangerous?”
“Not to the Stormlord,” said Ariel. “Once Sawyer proves himself and fully masters his blade, he will become the Stormlord, master of the elements.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said Sawyer as Jane began to giggle. “Stormlord? Sword of heroes? Master of the elements? What the heck is all that? It’s just a sword I picked up. I mean…I don’t want all that. I just want to get home.”
Ariel stopped and turned around. She regarded Sawyer for a moment.
“Then rid yourself of it,” she said. “Cast it away. It matters not to me.”
Ariel turned and continued walking with Jane beside her.
“But it’s really valuable,” said Geoff.
“Priceless,” said Ariel. “The Stormblade has been found after a hundred years and chosen its master. No one has ever declined such an honor. Until now.”
Sawyer frowned. He felt trapped. It reminded him of the feeling he had when his dad forced him to play Little League sports when he was younger. He simply had no choice. The first sport he ever played was soccer. He loved the game, but he was embarrassed when he missed a penalty kick that would have won the game, which ended in a tie.
The missed attempt wasn’t what actually embarrassed him; his dad did. He could still hear his dad’s shouting and cursing from the sidelines, almost to the point of having to be restrained by other spectators. “If you lose, then you’re a loser.” That was his dad’s favorite saying, and he never wasted an opportunity to berate Sawyer and point out his mistakes.
“Geoff, you think your dad would wanna buy it?” asked Sawyer, holding it out to Geoff.
“Oh heck yeah!” said Geoff, his eyes opened wide as he smiled and took the sword.
Ariel turned and looked at Sawyer.
“You would sell such a treasure?”
Sawyer stopped and looked at Ariel, whose acidic gaze cut right through him.
“Yeah, I guess so,” he said. “You just said ‘cast it away.’ I might as well
get something for it. Geoff would take care of it and he knows all about swords and armor. Besides, I could use the money.”
Sawyer noticed Ariel’s cold, emotionless expression had returned.
“What?” he asked. “I don’t want it. I’m not a hero.”
“Agreed,” said Ariel as she turned and resumed walking.
Sawyer shook his head and fell back in line behind Ariel and Jane. Geoff followed close behind.
They walked in awkward silence for over an hour in the morning sun before Sawyer heard Ariel say to Jane, “Tell me why you saved the unicorn from the goblins.”
Sawyer was about to say something, but Jane answered, “It was the right thing to do.”
Sawyer noticed Ariel quickly glanced at Jane, but she didn’t say anything. They continued in silence for the rest of the morning before they heard the distant rumble of thunder. Sawyer looked up and saw the dark clouds gathering.
“Great; werewolves, trolls, and now thunderstorms,” said Sawyer. “Will we ever catch a break?”
“Silverthorne Manor is not far,” said Ariel. “We will be welcome there.”
“Thank goodness. How much further to this Silverthorne Manor?” asked Jane.
Ariel pointed to the northwest. “Just past the next valley. The manor sits on a small hill in the village.”
By midafternoon the first cool drops of rain began to fall. They didn’t mind the rain, however. It refreshed them as they walked. Lightning flashed sporadically overhead and the wind began to pick up. Ariel changed direction and turned north. The others followed, matching her pace. After another half hour, the rain began to fall heavily, striking the leaves of the trees and bushes with a loud tap tap tap.
“How much further?” asked Jane. “We’re going to get soaked!”
“Yeah,” said Geoff. “Sawyer, can’t you make the rain stop with this sword?”
“Just a little further,” said Ariel. “Silverthorne Manor is close.”
In the distance they could see the large, dark shape of a walled manor house nestled in a small village. Trails of smoke rose from small chimneys, and the warm glow of firelight peeked through the shuttered windows. The manor reminded Sawyer of a small castle, with its two turrets and a large wooden gate. With their destination in sight they sprinted toward it in the pouring rain. They found a well-traveled muddy path that led through Silverthorne Village and then sloped upward to the manor house. Streaks of muddy water ran down its length and formed small pools. Jane slipped and would have fallen face first in the mud had it not been for Sawyer’s quick reaction; he reached out and caught her arm as she started to fall.
As usual, Geoff was bringing up the rear, struggling to maintain his balance, too. Being smaller, he had to take two steps for every one of theirs as they made their way.
“Geoff, are you okay?” asked Jane.
Geoff kept his eyes on the ground and nodded as he trudged through the mud. Ariel quickly reached the top of the hill and patiently waited for the others. The front gate was a formidable looking ironbound set of wooden doors twenty feet wide and just as tall. Another flash of lightning revealed a pair of large iron knockers that were mounted on the doors with heavy rings. Ariel grasped a ring and knocked five times. Sawyer was surprised by how loud each booming knock was; he had no trouble hearing them over the thunder and falling rain.
“Who lives here?” asked Jane, who was thoroughly soaked and looked miserable in the rain.
“Eben Silverthorne,” said Ariel. “An old friend.”
Sawyer, Jane, and Geoff shivered as they huddled together next to the front gate. Ariel looked back to the forest, her eyes searching the trees for movement. A minute after their knock they heard a scraping, grinding sound from the other side of the large, thick doors. A small rectangular opening appeared in the door as an eye slit opened and torchlight filtered through the opening.
Through the slit, Sawyer could see two beady blue eyes surrounded by a multitude of wrinkles and a gray, scraggly head of hair.
“Who is it? What do ya want?” asked an elderly voice on the other side.
“Old Thomas,” said Ariel. “Greetings. It is I, Ariel. These human children are Sawyer, Jane, and Geoff. We seek shelter for the night.”
At the sound of Ariel’s voice the old man’s blue eyes brightened.
“Ah, Ariel! It’s been too long, dear. Where have you been hiding? No doubt singing and dancing in your forest, eh? And now here you are with three children. They look too young to be traveling in such weather if ya ask me.”
Ariel smiled. “Then perhaps Eben will be kind enough to feed them and give them a warm bed tonight.” The old, wrinkled face in the narrow opening nodded. “Aye, I believe he would,” the old man said with a chuckle.
They heard the jingle of keys and the scraping of metal on metal as he unlocked the door and let them in.
“Come along. The master’ll wanna see ya right away!” Thomas was a tall, scruffy, doddering old man with a wide, welcoming grin. He had a bit of a slouch to his posture, and he walked with a slight limp. His face was leathery with age and stubby whiskers protruded from his chin. He carried a crooked walking stick, which he leaned on as he limped along. His worn black cloak opened as he walked, revealing a dark blue tunic over a white shirt. His breeches were black and well kept, and he wore a pair of short black boots.
They followed the old servant into a large, rectangular courtyard. Standing in the middle was a marble fountain with a large statue of a dragon at its center. The dragon reared on its hind legs with its wings outstretched and its head facing upward to the sky. Several thin streams of water spewed upward from its opened maw. A flash of lightning revealed small, silvery specks on the dragon’s scales that sparkled brilliantly against the reflections in the fountain’s water.
“It’s beautiful,” said Jane as she passed the fountain.
“S’ppose so. Yep,” said Thomas with a shrug.
When they reached the manor house, Sawyer noticed the walls were almost completely covered in ivy. It reminded him of the old ruined keep they had found by the stream.
The interior of the manor was well lit and the smell of freshly baked bread and roasting meat wafted over them as they entered. Sawyer leaned close to Jane and whispered, “That smells good. I hope they feed us ’cause I’m tired of nuts and berries.” Jane smiled and nodded, and then Sawyer’s stomach rumbled. He held his hand over it and made a face of mock embarrassment.
Overhead in the entry, there was a large wooden chandelier, which held what seemed like hundreds of candles that illuminated the entire room. Multiple torches burning in sconces along the walls shed light on the thick, elaborate tapestries that decorated the entry.
“Wow!” said Geoff as he walked over and looked more closely at one gaudy black tapestry with golden embroidery.
“This is awesome! Look at the artwork! It looks like a history of the kingdom or a noble family’s history! It must have taken years to make.”
“Geoff, don’t wander off,” said Jane.
Geoff turned and hurried back to join the others as they walked down the corridor toward a great hall.
When they reached the two large wooden doors that led into the hall, Thomas grasped the handles and pushed for all he was worth. The massive doors slowly swung open, revealing a large, inviting room. More ornate tapestries hung on nearly every wall. At the far end of the great hall was a raised dais with two large wooden chairs sitting on it. In the larger of the chairs sat another old man. He appeared to be in his sixties, and he regarded them with warm gray eyes. He stood and motioned quickly with one hand for Thomas to enter with their guests.
They followed Thomas across the room to the man sitting in the large chair. Large dining tables lined the way. Sawyer thought they looked like extra-long picnic tables and benches. They appea
red to be dark brown and were worn smooth from use in several spots. The tables looked wet, or even greasy. Suits of armor and weapons adorned the various alcoves of the great hall.
“My dear Ariel!” said the old man. “How long has it been? Five years, I’ll wager.” With those words he held his arms open wide and beckoned to her.
“My Lord Silverthorne,” said Ariel as she smiled and hugged the old man.
“Too long, my old friend. It has been far too long,” she said as she embraced him. The old man looked at her and smiled. “And what brings you here on a night like tonight?”
“We seek shelter for the night,” said Ariel. “Is your hospitality as warm as it ever was?”
The old man threw his head back and laughed while he nodded. “Aye,” he said. “The daughter of Lorne and Llywella Windsong is always welcome at Silverthorne Manor.”
Sawyer glanced at Jane and smirked, then turned his attention back to their host. He seemed over accommodating. In fact, he seemed infatuated with Ariel. He looks kinda buff, thought Sawyer. He looks like he works out. He must be strong for an old guy.
Ariel turned and motioned to them. “I happened upon these human children in Spirewood Forest. They are outlanders and have become lost. This is Sawyer, this is Jane, and the little one is called Geoff.”
The old man turned to them and said with a smile, “Welcome to Silverthorne Manor. I am Eben Silverthorne.”
“Thank you,” said Jane, who tried to smile.
“My Lord Silverthorne,” said Ariel “There are other matters that I would discuss with you. May I speak with you alone for a moment?”
The old man raised his eyebrows. “Of course, of course. Thomas, would you see to our three guests?”
Thomas nodded. “Aye, my lord. Come along, younglings. We’ll find you something to eat and…maybe something dry to wear...never seen clothes like that before. Where could you be from, I wonder?”
Wizard's Key (The Darkwolf Saga Book 1) Page 13