Sword Bearer (Return of the Dragons) (7 page)

Chapter X

We walked down a stone hall and out through a door, out into
the open. The sun shone down on us, and it felt good on my face. My skin felt
not exactly smooth, but the swelling was gone, for the first time I could
remember. Maybe it was the green clay, the running, or the sun that shone down
on me, but for once my face felt wonderful under this northern sun.

I had known for ages that it was the same sun that rose in
every part of the world.

Now I knew it felt different, depending on where you were.

I had barely traveled before, no farther than Montepulcino
and Firenze, but now I was here in this ancient city that had been forgotten by
the other peoples of the world.

But not apparently, by the dark lord.

I shivered in the sun, looking down at the magical stone
pavement, wondered at the swirling eddies of green and gold. There was so much
power here.

But why had the keiler called me Herr?

“Anders! Kara!”

I looked up.

Kalle was walking up to meet us. He came up and greeted me
with a slap on the back. I smiled.

How could I feel so bad when I had such kind companions?

“You slept a long time, Anders.”

“I had some strange dreams. I’m tired of sleeping, if that
makes sense.”

“I bet you’re hungry,” he said.

I nodded.

“They’re preparing a feast for us. But first Kara and I need
to take you to the armory, where the forge and smith are waiting. For you, and
for your sword.”

I nodded. It felt good to see Kalle, to distract myself from
my confused feelings for Kara. The sun kept warming me. If only I wasn’t so
weak from hunger.

I let Kalle lead us now.

I heard the sound of a hammer and anvil as we approached a
large limestone building. Carved into its walls were images of swords, and
weapons, and strange machinery. And pictures of fire and a forge.

The smithy.

Looking with my third eye I could see magic here, the older,
wiser magic of the master craftsman, of the smith at his forge as his father
and grandfather the smith had been before him.

This was ancient magic — nothing that I had learned with my
tutor, nothing that had been recorded in my books.

We entered through an old stone door, and the heat buffeted
my face. The room was large, and the heat was everywhere. I didn’t need my
third eye to see where it was coming from: a huge forge in the corner of the
room, circular in shape.

In front of the forge lay a glowing hot blade being worked
by a man, short and muscular. The smith.

His back was to us, and the sound from the hammer was
deafening. Sparks flew from the blade as his hammer struck it. I didn’t think
the smith could possibly hear anything over all the noise. Even so he turned to
us as we entered.

“Hail, Anders, son of Tomas. I am Cullen, son of Johan son
of Gregor, and farther back my mind refuses to go in this heat.”

He wiped sweat from his brow, and grinned.

“My grandfather told me that his great great grandfather
forged a sword like this, but I will tell you something: if I die after forging
this sword, I will die happy. Such a thing has never been attempted in my
lifetime.”

“Will it work?”

“Does she look like a good clean blade to you?”

I looked at the blade. It glowed orange, was straight, and
looked sharp and keen. “To me, the blade looks perfect.”

“To even an eye as sharp as yours, young Anders, she would.
But look with your third eye, and you’ll see. We’re not quite there yet.”

I looked with my inner eye and blinked the other two in
surprise. The blade looked broken, as if put together from different parts.

“Aye, it is quite a sight to see, still. Only when the hilt
is on it, and your hand upon it, will the three blades become one, just as the
three blood lines become one in you. That’s the theory, anyway. Today we will
see if holds true.”

He made a few more blows at the blade. “Do you have the
hilt, Anders?”

I nodded.

Cullen grabbed some tongs and put the red-hot blade into the
fire. The fire seemed to get hotter.

“Hand it to me, then.”

I held out the wooden blade and metal pommel.

Cullen whistled. “Such a beautiful blade. What a shame her
wood must be burned next to the steel which will replace it.”

Cullen stopped, and turned to me. “She is your blade, so I
must ask you, young Anders. Do I have your leave, to burn your blade? She is a
beautiful, magical wooden blade, the likes of which I would be proud to make.”

I sighed. “I barely used her. But she served me well. She
saved my life and took that of a keiler, and it was with her that I defeated my
blademaster.”

I grabbed the hilt of the sword and felt the blade almost
leap towards the fire.

“But the blade longs to burn,” I said. “And be replaced with
wizard’s steel. Here. Let the burning begin.”

Cullen nodded, and then he did the strangest thing. He took
out a pair of cups, round and shiny with a bar between them, which went over
his ears. Then he put on a kind of helmet, which covered his eyes with dark
brown glass. Cullen took my sword, and plunged in into the fire, on top of the
red hot metal blade.

There was a blinding flash.

I thought I was going mad: music surged up, louder and
louder, and it was as if there were two different songs, playing at once. My
blood joined in. Three songs blended together, the three songs of the blade
made one: the song of the wooden blade, the song of its hilt, and the song of
my blood.

As the music grew louder, I thought my ears would burst. The
sound seemed to come from everywhere: from my own body, from the blade, from
the magical stone that surrounded us. Kara and Kalle covered their ears, while
others fell to their knees.

The light was not white, but multicolored, and so dazzling
that my two normal eyes were overwhelmed.

So I closed them. The light was still dazzling, but my
third, lidless eye would not blink. Now I could make sense of the scene
unfolding before me. I brought my hands up to my ears, and then I could hear
the songs clearly, and distinguish them one from another.

I quickly found that as long as I pressed my hands to my
ears the sound was clear inside my head. If I took them off, though, it was
overwhelming.

My eyes closed, I looked around me and found the smith. He
was a clean blue outline of fire, holding golden tongs. In the tongs’ grip was
a sword, made up of three different colors. There was the gold of the Kriek;
blue, from the old city in which we stood; and green, the color of the sea
people.

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.”

I didn’t know what else to say. Great food, a beautiful
girl, and learning how to do higher level magic. What more could I ask for?

“When can we begin?” I said, with a grin.

“Now, if you like.”

I looked at Kalle, and then at Kara, who nodded.

“You practice now,” she said. “But at our midday meal we
must speak of the book of Id, the book I took back from Gerard. He is a
powerful wizard, and will be doing all he can to find us now. We are far away,
and he is no Kriek. But there are other ways for him to get here, if he is
powerful enough to scry out our location.”

I shuddered. “I always knew there was something strange
about him, ever since I was a little boy.”

Kara put her hand up to my face and ran a finger along my
cheek. “You are a little boy no longer, Anders Tomason.”

I felt a familiar warmth in the face. It was embarrassing
how just a small gesture from Kara made me completely lose control of my
emotions.

Woltan frowned, and changed the subject. “I would like to
know more about this book of Id. We have heard the title, but its contents are
a mystery to us.”

Suddenly, Kara’s face changed. “I am sworn by my people
never to let the book leave my hands.”

“Surely your people would understand that we all face a
common enemy,” said Woltan, his face taut.

Kara shook her head. “That’s not for me to decide. I have to
speak to the elders of my people, and most of all, to my uncle.”

“Your uncle?”

“Karl Gunnarson, king of my people.”

“Please, speak to him, and explain that the book of Id could
benefit both Anders Tomason and the fate of all three peoples. It contents
should not remain a mystery. In these dangerous times, we need all the help we
can get.”

“I’ll show it to you as soon as I have permission. The book
has been in the Kriek’s keeping for generations, but maybe it’s time for it to
be revealed to those who help us in our struggle.”