by Dave Duncan
In their race from Plo to Casr they had traveled on three more steam boats and four trains, timing their transfers to the minute. Public newscasts had followed their progress. Not all the Tryst’s gunboats were as speedy as Chioxin, which was screw-driven, but in general they were the fastest things on the River. Now that even trader ships could have radio, the Tryst was at last managing to clean up the pirates who had ravaged honest commerce for centuries.
News of Nnanji’s impending demise had flashed around the World within hours, and toward the end of their journey it seemed that half the stern-wheelers and paddle boats in the World were racing to Quo with Sevenths aboard.
The room was very quiet now.
The healer went to the bed and produced a stethoscope. Kra still made the best stethoscopes. After a moment he closed Nnanji’s eyes and stepped back. Nnadaro put both arms around her mother.
Then it was Wallie’s turn. After allowing a long moment for reflection, he went to the bed and retrieved the seventh sword, musing that this must surely be the last time he would ever touch it. He made the salute to a hero. He glanced around at each of the swordsmen present, then led them out through the antechamber, all except Addis, for he was still only a First.
At the top of the grand staircase, he motioned for them to precede him. The great hall below was packed with Sevenths. More than four hundred had been present at the council meeting yesterday, and others had arrived on the evening train from Quo. When Tomisolaan, Vixini, and Jjon reached the bottom, Wallie started down after them. A peculiarity of the grand staircase was that it included a seemingly useless landing about five steps up. Now he understood its purpose and wondered what genius had designed it. He stopped there, where he was in clear view of everyone.
“Lord Nnanji has been called to the Goddess,” he said, “and She will cherish him dearly, for the great services he has rendered in this life. I can no longer fulfill my duties as they should be fulfilled, so we need a new liege.” At least fifty of the Sevenths present would consider themselves qualified to succeed, and no doubt several of them were, but one was doubly qualified, for he had the right of inheritance on his side. Yesterday’s council had agreed on that, seeing that any other decision would risk a bloodbath or civil war. He was also an honorable and honest man, which in Wallie’s own opinion, was the most important factor of all.
“I give the Chioxin sword to his son, Lord Tomisolaan, commanding all of you to swear to him the third oath as you swore it to his father.”
As he knelt to Tomisolaan, he recalled the prophecy of the demigod: He will be Nnanji the Great, founder of the first dynasty. For almost a thousand years the symbol of his house will be the sapphire sword.
When the brief ceremony was over, Wallie rose, which was no longer the effortless process it had once been. As Jjon prostrated himself before his brother to swear the blood oath, Wallie went slowly back up the stairs to join the rest of the family.
Table of Contents
The Seventh Sword Series
Dedication
Preface – Encore! Encore!
BOOK ONE – How a Swordsman Came Home
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
BOOK TWO – How a Swordsman Went Forth
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
BOOK THREE – How the Swordsman Prepared for War
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
BOOK FOUR – How the Swordsman Fought the War
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
BOOK FIVE – How Some Swordsmen Failed to Return
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Epilogue – The Death of Nnanji