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“The swords we carry are our inheritance and our gift. The time for which we wield them is just one chapter in their history. While we hold them they feel part of us, alive, an extension of our limbs. But then we pass them on to the next generation, so that they live on after we have fought our battles.”
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MACK WOKE EARLY THE next morning. He was cold and stiff.
"Getting too old for all this nonsense," he muttered to himself. Even as he said it he knew it wasn't true, it was just automatic old man grumbling. In truth he felt younger than he had in years. "That's what a sense of freedom does for you," he thought. For a moment he felt a pang of guilt at leaving old Brinna, but he pushed it aside. He had given her a lot more than he had taken and that seemed a fair deal to him. Mack made his way out of the rough shelter, taking care not to disturb the others. He looked down at them, Bridie looking very young, her soft hair falling over her face, Luan clutching the sword as if even in sleep it defined his life. Pushing his way out into the wood, he marvelled at the stillness. The storm of the previous night had passed and sunlight was breaking through the trees, illuminating patches of ground so that they glowed, contrasting strongly with the shadows that still remained. Mack reached the edge of the wood and made his way along the track they had followed the night before. He looked for any sign of the previous day’s pursuit; but the whole of the open moor seemed uninhabited. Mack was alone underneath the dome of the sky and he revelled in the feeling.
A few yards away the track was cut by a narrow channel where a trickle of water made its way downhill. Mack followed the fledgling stream back up the hill until he came to the place where the water bubbled up from the rock into a small pool. He knelt and drank, enjoying the cool, slightly peaty taste of the water. Then he rinsed out and filled his flask before splashing water on his face. Suddenly there was a noise behind him and Mack whipped round, a hand reaching for the knife in his boot. The sheep took a step back, as if affronted by Mack's reception, and then nibbled a piece of grass, all the while watching carefully with its big soulful eyes. Mack smiled "Sorry old girl," he said. "You had me goin' a bit there." He stood up, looking around carefully, the incident leaving him with a sense of being watched. Mack no longer felt carefree; instead he had the feeling that there could be an assailant behind every rock or bush. His thoughts turned to Bridie and Luan, asleep on their own and quickly he began to make his way back.
He found Luan sitting outside the shelter.
"Bridie's still asleep," he said.
"No she's not!" Bridie followed close behind the retort, looking tousled and rubbing her eyes as she made her way out of the shelter.
"I found some water," said Mack, sitting down and handing round his flask. "Now," he said when they had both drank, "I think we need to
make some plans. Where are we going?"
"I have to go to the guild house at Sanlynn," said Luan, "but I think we should try to help Bridie return to her people."
Bridie snorted. "That's the last thing I want."
Luan was surprised. "But you were taken from them!"
"No," said Bridie. "I ran away. It was after that I was caught by those thugs."
"Why did you run away?"
"I'm not sure that's your business!" She gave Luan a long look. "Let's just say there is more than one sort of slavery."
"So you're not going back? Where will you go?" Luan was having difficulty grasping the idea that a girl may strike out on her own. In his village it would have been unthinkable. Yet again he reminded himself how little he knew of the wider world.
Bridie smiled at his confusion. "Thanks to you I am free, and I intend to keep it that way. But at the same time, I know it is safer to travel with others. As for where I go, one place is as good as another to me. Maybe I will come with you, keep you out of trouble!"
Mack nodded. He understood Bridie's motives completely, his weren't so different. "I too will come with you. I need a town where I can ply my trade, and Sanlynn will serve as well as any other. But we must take care, it is likely to take two weeks on foot and the Kingdom is not as safe as it once was. We will need food and water, and the means to protect ourselves as well as we can. We might run into the slavers again, and there are others who might well think that an old man and two children make an easy target."
Luan looked up and nodded. He had already realised there was a lot more to Mack than met the eye. Here was another side of the old man, strategic and responsible. Mack smiled back. "Maybe it's about time you learned how to use that sword you’ve been carrying around.
Come on!"
He got up and made his way to a clearing, the children following. They watched as Mack made his way around the trees checking the branches that were close to the ground.
"Here," he said, "this would make a good staff. Luan, you got that axe?"
Luan handed it over and watched as Mack cut two branches from the tree and trimmed them of leaves and twigs. Each was about two inches in diameter but of different lengths, one was about a man’s height, the other about half that. Mack handed the shorter to Luan. "What's this?" asked Luan.
"Your sword, for now," replied Mack. "I'm not letting you near me with the real thing until I know you've got the hang of it. I'd like to keep all my body parts exactly where they are thank you."
Bridie sniggered. This looked like it might be fun to watch.
"Why is your stick longer than mine?" Luan sounded slightly petulant.
"It's not a stick, it's a staff, a quarter staff some would call it. And a useful weapon it is too for someone as knows what they're doing. Yours is a practice sword so it's about the right length. Now come on, have at me!"
Luan paused. He didn't really feel like attacking Mack, and with Bridie watching he felt awkward with it. Still, they had to start somewhere so he held the 'sword' out in front of him and then he stepped forward bringing the sword up and then arcing down towards Mack's head.
Crack! Quick as a flash Mack brought the staff up horizontally to block Luan’s blow. Then before the boy could recover he whipped his left hand down so that the end of the staff hit Luan on the right leg just below the knee. Then his right arm shot out like a punch, landing a blow to the chest that put Luan flat on his back.
"Oof!" Luan felt the breath shoot out of him and he lay, winded, on his back. He could hear Bridie giggling. Gritting his teeth, he took Mack's proffered hand and hauled himself back to his feet.
"Never commit yourself to a single blow," said Mack. "Try to anticipate, think two or three strokes ahead. Now try again."
This time Luan feinted the blow to the head but then jumped back a step and swung in a low arc to block Mack's attack on his legs. Unfortunately, as soon as he stepped back Mack simply slid his right hand down the staff to meet his left and used the length of the staff to deal a sharp crack on the boy’s head. Luan sat down with a bump, his head ringing and not just with Bridie's laughter. He stared at her until she stopped, choking off the giggles with a hand over her mouth.
"Just wait until it's your turn!" Luan said. "Then we'll see who’s laughing!"
"Oh no, not me!" said Bridie. "I don't need a stick to defend myself. Watch!"
Luan and Mack watched intrigued as Bridie undid the leather thongs that she used as a belt. Leaving one band in place she unthreaded the two others and then shook them out so that it was obvious that they joined at a canvas pouch.
"A slingshot!" said Mack, his voice tinged with awe.
"Exactly!" replied Bridie and she stooped and picked up a stone the size of a pheasant's egg. She placed it in the canvas pouch and then began to swing the slingshot, round and round, faster and faster until she let go one of the thongs. The stone flew out and shot through the wood to smash a chunk of bark from a tree thirty paces away.
"That's amazing!" Luan stared at the young girl.
"I know!" said Bridie with a grin. "Now you boys get on with playing with sticks and I'll go and collect some stones."
Luan watched her scamper off through the wood with a feeling that he was the least useful member of the party. Suddenly he whipped a blow towards Mack's legs, then, swinging his body round, he shoulder charged, slamming his elbow into the old man's stomach. Mack staggered back but then started to bring his staff up in a counter attack only to stop dead as he felt the end of Luan’s sword touch the side of his neck. Luan stood there, arm outstretched, with a massive grin on his face. Mack acknowledged the boy's success with a nod and he stepped back.
"Well done lad! I see you know the value of surprise."
"When your only brother is older and bigger than you, you've got to be sneaky!" replied Luan.
"We might make a fighter of you yet," said Mack. "Now, defend yourself!" and he launched a flurry of blows.
After half an hour Mack called a halt and they sat down on a log to catch their breath. In the first ten bouts Luan had 'won' precisely two, in the last ten he had won five. Bridie had re-joined them after about twenty minutes and she had been delighted to see Luan giving almost as good as he got.
"Right," said Mack when he had caught his breath. "Better have a look at that sword."
Luan picked up the sword and grasped the hilt. The blade slid from the scabbard with a whisper, Luan was surprised at how little effort it took to draw. The gleaming metal shone in the sun, the surface of the blade free of rust and dirt yet Luan could see the faint tracing of swirls and marks formed in the swords forging. He remembered Marius showing him the sword and how in his childish way Luan had said that it looked like the blade had feathers and Marius had laughed at the description.
"It's beautiful!" said Bridie, her eyes big and round, staring in childish amazement.
"Moralean iron!" exclaimed Mack. "In many a long year I have never seen its like!"
"What do you mean?" asked Luan.
"The swords of legend, brought back to mortal lands from the islands of the otherworld.” Bridie stared in awe as she continued. “Forged in dragon fire, they bring power to those that wield them and are deadly to hags, ghouls and other monsters that cannot be harmed by normal blades." She stopped and looked at Luan "How come you've got one then?"
Luan felt vaguely offended. "It was my uncle's, he was a Klaideem. It's not magic or anything though, just a sword."
"It's not just a sword," retorted Bridie. "I have seen all the warriors of my tribe arrayed for battle, none had a sword such as this. The swords of my people are shorter, shaped like this," and she used both hands to trace out a slim leaf shape.
"Bronze swords," said Mack, "such as the northern tribes use." He paused and looked at her appraisingly. "Which tribe are you from Bridie?"
"The Tribe of the Bani-Tivar," she answered proudly. Mack gave a sharp intake of breath.
Luan was feeling lost again. "You're not from the Kingdom then?"
"No," said Bridie again with pride in her voice. "My tribe rules the northern lands. We live free and bow the knee to no one!"
"You're a long way from home girl!" said Mack. "Did the slavers bring you all this way?"
Bridie nodded. "I had been away one night when they caught me. Then twelve days of travel, from the shores of the northern sea, through the mountains and across the plains, always heading southwards." "As I thought," said Mack, "they only had one destination in mind."
"The Pireacht Empire," said Luan.
"Exactly," agreed Mack, "they would get a good price in the southern cities for a young girl like you, Bridie."
Bridie sniffed. "Well they haven't got me now and I'm assuming we're not just going to sit here and wait until they find us again!"
"You're right," said Luan, sliding the sword home in the scabbard and standing up, "we should go."
"Wait." Mack held out his hands in a calming gesture. "Not so fast! Are we agreed we are heading for Sanlynn?" The others nodded their agreement. "Then the way is east, following the same path. One more thing, Luan! Put the sword on as you normally wear it."
The sword was too long for Luan to wear at his waist so he had taken to wearing it on his back with the baldric, the leather belt from which the sword hung, across his chest. He did so now, slipping it over one arm and his head so that it hung diagonally with the hilt over his left shoulder.
"Now draw," Mack instructed.
Luan reached up with his right hand and started to pull the sword from the scabbard. It came easily enough at first but he soon found that the movement was awkward to the point of impossible as he tried to straighten his arm. With a feeling of dismay, he gave up and pushed the sword back.
"As I thought," said Mack. "Don't worry, I have a plan. Half undo the buckle on the baldric. Don't worry, the weight of the sword will keep it tight."
Luan did as he was asked, pulling the leather tongue from the buckle.
"Now," continued Mack "as you draw with your right hand, undo the buckle with your left and just let it go."
Luan tried it and found that as he drew the sword the scabbard fell to land on the floor behind him leaving the sword free.
"Excellent! Now try it again as if for real."
Luan re-buckled the baldric, replaced the sword and repositioned the whole thing on his back. Then he tried the manoeuvre again, this time finishing in the stance that Mack had showed him. One foot in front of the other, elbows in towards his hips, the sword in both hands pointing forwards with the tip raised.
"Now you look like a warrior, Luan!" Bridie's words were sincere. Luan tried to keep a serious face such as a warrior would have but then blushed and grinned.
