Sword Bearer (Return of the Dragons) (6 page)

Talk about no pressure.

Another lightning blast some ten feet away sent us tumbling
through the air again. Blind and deaf, I crawled towards the gate, guided by my
third eye.

I reached out my hand. I could say I found the runes, but
you might as well say the runes found me. I couldn’t see, but I could feel
them. And as I ran my hand across the first one, it glowed in my inner eye.

And I heard a sound.

Like when the sword spoke to me, some kind of song. So I ran
my hand along another rune.

A second note joined the first.

The music was frightening and intoxicating. I ran fingers
along all the runes in reach, one after another, and they all began to glow.

Their notes joined the song, and I could
almost
make
sense of it.
Almost
. There was something still missing.

I was too short, that was part of it. I couldn’t reach the
top of the gate. The highest runes must have been eight feet off the ground,
and I was only five and a half feet tall. Those ancients must have been pretty
big.

Suddenly I felt myself rising up, and then I realized I was
being carried.

Kalle had me by the knees.

Quick, Anders. The lightning and thunder are gone, but
the other runes are beginning to lose their glow. Do what you have to do.

Sure, but what was that, exactly? I was losing my confidence
and my focus. I listened to the song, and traced the remaining runes.

All of the runes began to glow again, intensely. Hearing
their song, I finally understood. If only I had paid more attention to music
when I was little, and to the lessons with the lyre my father had insisted on.
Or even learned the pianoforte, like my mother had wanted. But there was
something in the blood that responded, all the same.

I felt a stirring at my side.

I reached down and grabbed the sword.

Music flowed into me, and brought power with it, power of
which I had little knowledge and less control. My body was a channel for blood
magic far older than my great-grandfather...

So I did the only thing I could. If you can’t play an
instrument, you have only one choice. I opened my mouth and sang, a song that
ran through my hand, through the hilt and pommel of the sword, back through my
bloodline and beyond, far beyond.

As I sang, the runes glowed brighter. I couldn’t quite
understand what I was singing, what the notes meant. Everything was slippery,
elusive. The gate was old, and it sang back to me. No one had passed through in
over a thousand years, I understood that much.

Then I was walking. I looked back. Kalle and Kara were
standing up, and they followed me. The song still flowed from my mouth. Kara
looked at me with what I was afraid was fear, but she followed me, and Kalle
after her.

There was a bright point in the middle of the gate, and that
was where we had to walk. The gate was quite specific, it was not up to full
capacity, we had to pass one by one, and even then it would be close.

Three people would be admitted, no more.

I stopped singing as I walked through the green light, but
the song of the gate continued in me. I was in the gate, and then I was
through. When I looked back again, there was Kara, and then Kalle, beside her,
and the gate was silent.

But it still hummed with energy, and once again, with
menace.

We would have to reactivate it to get through once again. Or
find some other way out.

Chapter VIII

We stood on polished stone. Energy surrounded us. I could
feel it flow up through the stone under my feet. The air itself crackled with
it. With my inner eye I saw a rainbow of colored light, so much color that at
first my vision was overwhelmed. My ears hummed with the song of the rock
underneath and around us. My skin buzzed.

For a moment, we did nothing but stand.

Then we all sat down on the stone.

The ground was covered with cut stone in geometric patterns.
It felt warm and full of positive force.

Kara smiled in wonder, touching her hand to the stones on
which we sat. “These are energy stones. We Kriek have lost the magic of their
creation, but we still use small fragments for all kinds of things. I have a
small stone myself in my pouch, but it’s nothing compared to this. We’re
surrounded by magical stone.”

Kalle nodded. “This is the forgotten city, the
Gammalstan
.
I cannot believe our luck. When the lightning began to thunder down upon us, I
was sure all hope was lost.” He stopped and looked at me. “Who are you, Anders,
really? Kara contacts you through a gateway, the keiler call you Herr, and now
you open the gate into
Gammalstan
.”

I shook my head.

“I don’t know,” I said finally.

Kalle nodded. “The answers are in your blood, perhaps, not
in your head.”

“Blood we hope not to have to shed.”

A spear point made of dark carved wood moved into my field
of vision.

I heard Kara gasp.

We looked up together, and around us. Dazzled by the magical
brilliance, I hadn’t even bothered to look around with my two normal eyes.

I followed the point of the spear up the shaft to its owner.
A woman, a
young
woman — she looked little older than me — held the
spear with confidence, and looked me straight in the eyes without blinking.

I really wanted her to smile, but she didn’t.

We were surrounded. They were all young, muscled, strong.
They were all armed with spears, and the spears all pointed towards us. There
must have been ten or twelve of them. Something told me the girl who had the
spear pointing at my face was the leader.

She seemed surer of herself than the rest of them, for one
thing. And on her head she wore a simpler but more elegant bonnet than the
others. I watched the girl-woman with attention. Her face was cool, motionless,
her eyes steady. I looked at her with my third eye and saw... nothing.

What was going on?

Was she somehow blocking my vision? I thought I caught the
smallest flicker of a smile.

Don’t move, Anders, whatever you do. We need to go
slowly, now.

That was Kalle. And this time I was sure the girl smiled.

“Yes, please don’t move. We need to establish a few things
first.”

Why do you speak with them, Jona? They may be here to
trick us.

I felt pretty sure that was a boy, a warrior around my age,
just to my left. His thoughts felt strange, like he was thinking in another
language. I turned my face slightly to face him. I felt very sure the his name
was
Woltan
, but I did not know how I knew this. I decided to speak, all
the same.

I opened my mouth, but when I did, out flowed a language I
couldn’t understand. It was musical, and flowed like the music of the gateway
and the sword. But honestly, if you begged me to, I wouldn’t be able to repeat
a word of it.

Instead of thinking the words, I felt them as my mouth moved
around them. The foreign words, velvety on my tongue, flowed out of my mouth.
The language was strange and wonderful and made my whole body tense with
energy.

For my ears and my brain it was melodious nonsense. But
through the filter of my blood I managed to understand a little.
Woltan, we
come from far away. We seek shelter from the keiler of the Dark Lord. If my
heart speaks true, and my blood tells no lies, then we here are all kin, and
there is no foe inside these gates of the Forgotten City, Gammalstan.

There was a long pause. The air crackled with tension, and I
felt my hairs stand up straight on my arms and legs.

By some silent signal, the children-warriors pulled their
spears back. Then they stepped back, and suddenly we were alone again, still
seated on the ground.

Had it all been some kind of hallucination? Some kind of
strange dream?

I looked at Kalle and Kara and was about to ask a question
when I noticed they hadn’t moved a muscle since the spears had been withdrawn.

“Kalle? Kara?”

No response. I waved my hand in front of their eyes. They
didn’t even blink.

I stood up, and looked up at the clouds. They too seemed
frozen. I looked around and saw, around a hundred feet away, a small building,
and at the doorway, two figures. One of them beckoned.

I began to walk towards them. As I grew closer, I recognized
Woltan and Jona. Woltan continued to wave me onward.

The building too seemed to pull at me, but there was a
struggle inside me.

Part of me wanted to resist, part of me wanted to rush
forward. It felt right, somehow, to advance towards whatever awaited me. But
what if it was all a trick, all a trap?

Part of me felt I was meant to walk these stones, to meet
this people, and that in some way I could not understand, they were my people
too, just like Kara and Kalle. Part of me felt I should have stayed in the
castle, kept on training to be a diplomat, like my father.

But I hadn’t. I was here.

I opened my mouth, calling out to them. But instead of
words, out of my mouth came more song.

It wasn’t my voice that sang, but instead the voice of my
blood, of my people, of my ancestors. Though I didn’t know the words in my mind,
I knew them in my blood, and this is what my blood sang:

Once a blood prince left his keep,

went away over seas calm and deep, 

met his true love in lands afar,

and never returned to Gammalstan.

There he started a blood line,

that runs along until this day,

one day when we cannot say,

he shall return and with him kin,

for his blood shall be of three lines,

he shall be Kriek, old city and mer,

and with his sword wielded true,

the old bloodlines will be remade new.

The stones underfoot started to glow as the words flowed
from my mouth. The closer I came to the building the brighter they glowed, and
I with them. I was a human lantern — Woltan and Jona shielded their eyes with
their hands. With each step I was heavier and hotter. My body was turning into
molten lead. It was not painful, but it was no longer pleasant.

Woltan opened his mouth then; I was not far away now, and
could have reached him in a moment, if it weren’t for this heaviness that made
every step seem to take forever.

Time will stop, when he comes,

The testing of him will be done,

His feet, so fleet, will feel like lead,

And to walk the walk toward his kin,

Will take his last ounce of strength;

When he is done, his kin will weep,

Tears, of joy or sadness, which,

we cannot see, but true tears,

for a blood prince kin of kin,

that they never hoped to see.

The last steps seemed to take an eternity.

But what was the meaning of the word eternity, when time had
stopped? I moved slowly, then more slowly still.

But what did the word slow mean, when time didn’t move?
Around me, no one moved at all, as I struggled through my last steps. At last I
reached them, and faced the two warriors, my kin if the blood song was true.

I stood there eye to eye with Woltan and Jona.

Woltan smiled.
It was written that he who will reunite
the bloodlines will carry a blade of power; the hilt and pommel will be silver,
the blade, wood. Here in Gammalstan a new blade will be forged.

Jona nodded.
We have kept the pieces of the broken blades
of the kings of old: King Karlson of the Kriek, King Ludwig of Gammalstan, and
King Luciano of the merpeople. They are incomplete, and together make up just a
little more than one sword.

Woltan continued.
We shall smelt them together to make
one true blade. The ancients used a steel which we can no longer create, but we
still have the forge, and the smithy. We will make the steel flow again. Reform
the blade, purify it with hammer and forge, and then the prince of the three
bloodlines will have his sword.

There was a pause, which seemed to last forever. My face
started to itch. Now was not a good time to scratch.

But again, time had stopped, hadn’t it?

All that I was going through had seemed to last an eternity,
but wasn’t it all shorter than the blink of an eye?

Back behind me, Kalle and Kara were frozen. The air around
them did not move; the silence was total.

Do you have the sword, Anders son of Andrea? Are you the
Prince of the three Blood Lines, here united?

I didn’t say anything. It turned out I didn’t need to. The
sky turned suddenly dark, and I felt a change in the air.

I drew my blade, and suddenly the air moved again around me,
and the wooden blade went up high. I held it by the silver hilt that glowed in
my hand. The hilt grew hotter from moment to moment.

The glow from the blade lit up the sky and the pavement
beneath me. Even the air seemed to buzz with energy and light and song.

I couldn’t hold back any longer.

The sword sang out in my hand. The vibrations shook my arm,
moved through my body and down my leg to the ground, to the pavestones that
vibrated beneath my feet.

I’m a boy with a sword, it sang for me. Was I their prince?
Let the blood tell me.

Then it was over, and suddenly dark ground rushed up to meet
my face.

Chapter IX

I woke up in a bed. The mattress was hard and firm, made of
some kind of woven fibers. I felt exhausted but safe and, almost, at home. I
looked around: there was no one else in the room. The room was warm, but
comfortable. Next to my bed, there was a jug, and a glass.

I realized suddenly how incredibly thirsty I was. I wondered
when I last had a glass of water. I filled the glass, and drank. It wasn’t
water, but juice of some unfamiliar fruit — very sweet, but maybe slightly
fermented.

I wondered if I was going to get drunk. That was all I
needed. I did enough crazy things sober.

I emptied the cup, and filled it again. I drank the second
cup.

The moon shone through the window, and there were torches
outside too. I looked around the room, and felt very relaxed. Maybe the juice
was alcoholic. Or had I been drugged? I felt somehow safe. My lids felt very
heavy, and I lay back down.

Again, I slept.

And I dreamed.

I was in my own bed, the sun shone through my room, and my
mother Andrea was calling me. No. That wasn’t right. Something was strange —
her voice sounded foreign. When I looked at her, her face was cloudy, blurry,
her features shifting. I shook my head to clear it and my mother was gone, and
I heard nothing but the echo of her voice.

Was I awake, now?

The dark and silent room gave no answers. Was it my room? I
had to do something. What was it?

Wake up, maybe. I was floating on my back. The salt water
underneath held me up. I floated effortlessly, and I could taste the salt in
the air. Far away I heard someone calling my name. Was it my mother again? I
didn’t know. I felt unsure of everything.

Where were my mother and father?

Why didn’t they come wake me up? I had to get to practice. I
was making great progress with the staff. One day soon we would battle for
real. Giancarlo was kind to me, but vicious on the battlefield, people said. I
felt a shiver. I sank into the water, opened my mouth, and tasted salt. I felt
at home, and swallowed the water eagerly.

No, that wasn’t right. I didn’t swallow the water. I
breathed it in. I wasn’t drinking it, I was breathing it, and the water was
going, where? My hands reached out and touched my neck. I felt sharp slits
there, and water rushing out through them, in my mouth and out of my neck.

Was I a fish? A fish-boy? A mer-boy, rather?

Why wasn’t I upset? I looked at my hands. They were
conveniently webbed. I swam swiftly through the water. Never before had I felt
so at home. The water was warm, or at least I felt warm in it. I twirled around
in the water, flipped, and swam farther. Far off I could see a light down deep
in the water...

I wanted to go there, but a voice behind me was calling out
a name, my name, Anders Tomason.

I awoke for the second time with the taste of salt still in
my mouth.

“Anders, it’s me.”

I opened my eyes.

Kara stood over my bed, looking down at me.

“The council needs you, Anders. They want to see you, the
three-blooded prince. They say the Dark Lord is approaching, and he may be
strong enough this time to enter the city. They are forging your sword as we
speak, but they need the hilt.”

I sat up, and couldn’t keep from groaning. I’d never been
this sore.

“Yesterday I was locked in my room with green gunk all over
my face, preparing for a birthday banquet. And now, I’m a prince? I mean, I’m
sixteen years old and a day.”

Kara sighed. “Look,” she said. “Life has thrown me my share
of surprises too. Not all of them pleasant, either. Anyhow, you’ll have a real
sword. Isn’t that exciting?”

I smiled wryly. “I just received the wooden one. That was
supposed to be my first step to manhood. My face is still pimply. If I get a
steel blade, and I become a prince, will my face magically clear up? Will my
voice deepen? Will I suddenly grow chest hair? I mean, what are they going to
call me, the pimply prince?”

Kara sat down next to me on the bed.

“It doesn’t really look that bad, right now.”

“What?”

“Your face. Maybe if you tried the charcoal soap? Or some
goat’s milk?”

“Any other ideas?”

“Well…”

“I was kidding,” I said. “I’m actually sick of talking about
it.”

Kara smiled. “You know, a lot of the Kriek have problem
skin.”

She put her hand on my shoulder, and I felt suddenly warm in
the face. All she had to do was touch me and my stomach started doing flips.

Kara smiled and kissed me lightly on the forehead.

It was fireworks once again. My body was ablaze. I felt her
sending me energy through her kiss.

She pulled back and sat there, looking at me silently,
waiting for me to speak.

“I just don’t feel ready,” I said finally, surprised I could
still speak. “Everything is happening so fast.”

“Great changes come quickly in times of trouble,” she said.
“You may be a prince or even a king before your body is really ready. Your mind
and your magic will grow faster, and your body will have to wait to catch up.
That’s how it was in the times of the ancients.”

I felt a lot of doubts. I wondered if maybe I was just
delirious, if Giancarlo had hit me too hard on the head in practice and I was
really in the infirmary. A day ago I was just a slightly out of shape boy who
knew a little magic and wasn’t too bad at swinging a staff.

But was that even true? How many boys did I know who were
locked in at night? Who was I, really?

My body ached. I had gotten more exercise in the last
twenty-fours than in the last month. Twenty minutes of swinging a staff every morning
hadn’t prepared me for this. No wonder I felt so sore.

I decided not to share any more of this with Kara. I didn’t
want to her think I was just some whining kid.

So instead I just smiled at her.

“So, the ancients. Did the ancients have bad skin too?” I
asked.

She nodded. “And green clay, charcoal soap and goat’s milk.”

I laughed, looking away. I felt Kara grab my hand.

Again came a rush of energy: I felt so alive, and I felt
myself plunging into her eyes, falling into her, and then she spoke:

“Ask me whatever you like, Anders.”

“Whatever I like?”

She nodded at me, and kept my hand in hers.

“Do you believe in me? In all this?”

She nodded slowly.

“Do you believe things will ever be the same again for me?
Will I ever return home to my parents, to my home in the South?”

Kara shook her head. “You know, I used to want to grow up as
fast as I could, but now I miss my childhood. But I can’t go back. My parents
are dead. I’ll never be their little girl again. These are desperate times, my
friend.”

I felt warm in the face for the second time as I looked Kara
in the eyes.

“Are you my friend, then?” I asked.

She nodded. “No matter what happens, Anders, I’ll try to
always be your friend.”

“You promise?”

She nodded, biting her lip.

I tried to smile. “Who knows, maybe one day we’ll be more
than friends.”

She looked away, and I felt her pull her hand off mine.

“What?” I said, feeling hot in the face. “Did I say the
wrong thing?”

This time it was Kara who blushed. “No, Anders, it’s not
you. It’s me. You’re sweet. But I already have a boyfriend.”

“But you kissed me,” I said, feeling stupid.

She still wasn’t looking at me, and I didn’t blame her.
“Anders, there’s kissing, and kissing.”

“You don’t like me, do you?”

Kara sighed. “You make it sound so simple. I like you as a
brother, as a friend.”

“But not…”

She shook her head. “Not like that, no.”

I took my head in my hands. But I wasn’t going to cry in
front of her.

She reached out for my hand, then, but I pulled it away.

“Anders, I promise you I’ll be your friend, no matter what.”

I nodded. But right then I didn’t care about that. It was my
skin, I was sure of it. Who could love my face?

She must have sensed my thoughts.

“Anders, it’s not your face.”

I shook my head. “Then what?”

“Anders, we barely know each other. You’re a nice boy.
You’re a wonderful boy. But that doesn’t mean every girl is going to fall in
love with you.”

“I don’t think any girl will every fall in love with me.”

She grabbed my hand then and wouldn’t let me pull away.

“You’ll see soon how wrong you are. I can feel it. I know
there are other girls out there waiting for you.”

I shook my head. I didn’t care about other girls.

She pulled on my hand.

“You need to get up now, Anders. There’s work to be done.”

I stood up, trying to forget about my embarrassment, then
sat back down in confusion.

I didn’t know what to think. Kara was staring at me. I
didn’t really feel like talking to her now, but I didn’t want her to leave
either.

“What?” she said, finally. “What else is bothering you?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Am I really him? The prince who
will unite the bloodlines? My mind refuses to accept it.”

“But your blood doesn’t deny it. Anders, blood can’t lie.
You withstood the test, yesterday. Your blood spoke, and sang along with the
hilt of the sword you bear. We cannot deny our birthright. Look, it’s hard for
me too. My father...”

She bit her lip and fell silent.

“Your father?”

“My father was the leader of the Kriek. My people.” She
stopped for a moment, looked at me and blushed again. “Our people, I guess. It
is hard to remember that you share our bloodline. My father, Karl Hendrickson,
was our King. And the Dark Lord killed him and my mother when I was nine.”

“I’m sorry, Kara.”

She nodded, silently, then continued. “When I was little,
nothing short of perfection was ever good enough. Every morning I woke at dawn
to a day full of training in the arts of our people. Now I see you, and I see
things that all that training didn’t bring me. I believe in you, Anders. We
need you, now.”

“Now?” I said.

She nodded. “They’re all waiting for us in the dining hall.”

“Can you just leave me alone for a minute?” I asked.

She bit her lip, looking embarrassed. “They’re really
waiting for you. All of them. And Woltan’s worried you may be weak still.”

“Just give me one minute,” I said, sounding angrier than I’d
intended.

“Okay,” she said, biting her lip again, and walked out the
door.

I stood up. Unsteady on my feet, I wobbled slightly. The
world turned around me.

Great, now I was going to pass out. That would definitely
change Kara’s mind about me.

She found me braced against the wall, and helped me stand up
straight. I felt energy flow into me again. I couldn’t help scowling — I wanted
to push her away, but I needed her. Without her I was afraid I’d fall on my
face, make a fool of myself in front of her once again.

“You’re still weak,” Kara said. “You’ve gone through two
tests of manhood in less than that many days: first the portal with me, now
this proving of the blood here in the old city. That’s enough to exhaust anyone.”

I thought it wasn’t worth pointing out that it was actually
three tests, if you counted my sparring with my blademaster. Where was
Giancarlo? Suddenly, I missed him fiercely, rubbing my side where Giancarlo had
hit me with the flat of his blade. I could have talked to him about Kara. He
would have known what to do.

“You must be sore as well as tired.”

I nodded. It wasn’t just my body that hurt, but I didn’t
want to talk about that. She could feel it anyhow, I knew that. Maybe I should
have appreciated that she was changing the subject and not trying to embarrass
me any more. But it still hurt, to keep all the feelings in.

“We still have to go. You’ve slept for a whole day, and
sleep will do you no more good now. You need to eat and drink.”

As if ready to agree with her, my stomach growled.

Kara smiled. “I heard that. Sometimes I lose all touch with
my body. I think I’m only spirit, aura and essence. But we have to remember,
it’s our physical body that feeds the spirit, until the spirit is freed and leaves
us forever.”

She smiled again, and pulled at my hand.

I let her lead me away.