They were lovely feet.
He went to see to the horses. The animals looked grateful to be back on dry land, but still they whickered and bucked when Croy approached them. Malden came up behind him, standing well back, as if afraid of being kicked.
Did we truly need to sell the wagon? With Slags improvements, that was probably the most valuable piece of cartage in Skrae, Malden pointed out. Are you sure we got good value for it?
Croy laughed and nodded. Where they were going next there were no proper roads, and they would have spent more time pulling the wagon out of mud or levering it over tree roots than they did traveling. For Slag, I found this pony, he said, pointing out the piebald colt. A good courser for Cythera. And for you, a jennet.
Malden approached the indicated horse with a look of distinct fear. The roan looked back at him with pure apathy. The thief reached out tentatively to touch the animals forelock but the jennet snorted and he yanked his hand away. You got me a horse, he said. Croy, Im afraid to tell you this, but I never learned how to ride.
I assumed as much, and so chose the gentlest, most kindly dispositioned animal I could find. Dont worry. Shell do all the work. You just need to hang on.
Well, Malden said, taking a step back, Ill do my best.
I have something else for you as well, Croy said with a sly grin. Hed been waiting a long time for this.
He went over to where their supplies were piled in a heap and took out a long bundle wrapped in oilcloth. You didnt need this back when we were in civilized country, but now were properly in the wilderness I want you to have it. He unwrapped the bundle to reveal a sword in a thick scabbard. He held it out toward Malden in both hands.
Ah, Malden said. A sword. I dont think I want to wear a-
Not just any sword, Croy said. I believe you know this one. He drew the sword carefully from its special glass-lined sheath. In the firelight it looked ragged and notched, and when it caught the light the blade was revealed as nothing more than a corroded and pitted bar of iron with a weathered point. As soon as it was exposed to the air, however, glistening drops of fuming liquid began to break out upon its length, like steaming sweat.
Acidtongue, Malden whispered.
The name was said loud enough to get Morgets attention. The barbarian had been chopping firewood. Now he stormed over to where Croy and Malden stood. He stared with open and unaffected lust at the eroded sword.
One of the seven, Morget thundered. Another Ancient Blade! You had this the whole time, Croy, and never mentioned it to me?
It is not mine to speak for, Croy explained. Its previous wielder, Bikker, was my teacher. I was forced to slay him in a duel of honor. Now I seek a proper replacement, someone I can train in its use. Ive had Malden in mind for a long while.
Me? Malden asked. But-why? Im no knight. Im barely a free man, as far as the law is concerned. And Ive never waved a sword around in my life.
Croy nodded solemnly. He had known that Malden would doubt himself. Humility was a great virtue, one of the hardest for a knight to keep. Malden, with his low birth, would have an advantage there. Traditionally it is knights who wield the swords. That makes sense-knights are trained in the use of such weapons, often trained from birth, as I was. My first toy was a wooden sword, did you know that? You, Malden, were born to a different estate. You were never trained for this. Yet this is not, as you say, the first time youve ever waved a sword around. You did it once before-with this particular blade.
The thief blanched, but he nodded. I suppose I did.
This runt? Morget asked. Could he even lift a sword, if he had one to hand? I think it unlikely.
You werent there, Croy said. Together, Malden and I faced the most powerful sorcerer in Skrae. A magician who thought nothing of summoning demons to do his bidding. One such creature was sent to hunt down Malden and destroy him. I wounded the beast with Ghostcutter, but I was too fatigued and injured to finish the job. Malden had to take up Acidtongue then and slay the beast. He did it without thinking, without hesitation. Ive never seen such courage.
It was that or let the thing eat me, Malden said. I was so scared I thought I might soil my-
Morget chuckled. You think theres some difference, little man, between terror and bravery? Theyre like the moon in its phases. Sometimes it waxes, and sometimes it wanes, but its always there, all of it. We just dont see it all.
Since that day, Croy went on, youve shown true courage often enough-not least of all when you agreed to come with us on this quest. If were going to fight a demon-if youre going to become one of us and pledge your life to fighting them-this is the perfect opportunity to start learning how.
You want me to become an Ancient Blade, Malden said. Like you. The thief didnt seem to believe it was even possible.
The knight and the barbarian looked at Malden expectantly.
Im not meant for your squire, friend, Malden insisted. Im not really the sword-slinging type. Please, I thank you, truly, but-
Just hold it a moment. See how it feels, Croy insisted.
Malden stared at him. Then he glanced toward where Cythera and Slag sat by the riverbank. Croy wondered what he looked for from the two of them. He must have found it, though, for Malden took the sword by its hilt. He nearly dropped it-Croy supposed the thief was unused to a swords weight-but then he managed to swing it through the air. Drops of potent acid flicked through the dark and sizzled in the undergrowth.
Malden took a step toward a nearby tree and brought the blade round in a wildly swinging arc. Croy winced at the poor swordsmanship, but he cheered as the sword smashed into the tree trunk with a noise like a hundred angry snakes. Malden jumped back as the tree toppled and fell with a great crash, its leaves thrashing and its branches snapping when it dropped to the forest floor.
The stump it left looked burnt around the edges, but in the middle the cut was clean. After a moment sap started to ooze from the sundered tree.
In Sadus name, Malden breathed.
Croy coughed politely. The swords were consecrated to the Lady, after all, and not to the Bloodgod.
Croy, Malden said, I can see you mean this as an act of great friendship. I have to admit Im touched. The thief stared at the ground. I worry I dont deserve it, though. There have been times Ive not been as-faithful-a friend as I might. There have been times Ive proven I dont deserve this gift. Maldens arm shook as he spoke, as if great emotion were flowing through him. The tremor made flecks of acid rain on the carpet of pine needles below their feet. Theres something I must tell you. Something you dont want to hear-
Croy held up one hand for silence. Let the past be forgotten now, he said. This was a sacred moment. The passing on of an Ancient Blade was a holy rite. Prove to me, from now on, that you deserve to call me brother.
If you do not want the blade, little man, Morget said, I will be glad to take it from you. By force, if necessary.
Malden laughed, but Croy nodded sagely. Its one of our vows, he said. If a wielder of the sword proves unworthy, he must be challenged and killed on the spot.
I suppose, Malden said, in that case Id better hold on to it. For now.
Chapter Twenty-two
There was still plenty of daylight left, so the companions loaded up their gear and got on their horses. Morget and Croy were old hands at riding, of course, and Cythera knew how it was done. Slag needed some help getting on his pony but once on its back he seemed stable enough. They all had to wait while Malden tried to mount his jennet. He was nimble enough to jump up into the saddle, but once seated he found himself too far off the ground and started to grow dizzy and had to climb back down. It was ridiculous. How many times had he hung from finger grips off the spire of the Ladychapel in Ness, a hundred feet above the cobblestones? Yet the way the horse refused to stand still gave him vertigo. Morget offered to strap him in with leather lashings, as was sometimes done for invalids and the very ill who nonetheless had to ride. Malden refused. He would do this. He had to. He could not turn around now. Half the country was after his blood-not to mention Prestwicke.
Eventually he managed to keep his seat and hold the reins as he was shown. The jennet had already proved herself a patient beast, and now she started walking with no compulsion, following the other horses. It was just like Croy had said, she did all the work. Malden clutched to the cantle of his saddle and tried to not fall off.
There were no roads, nor even any trails through the forest. No one lived there-the place was as deserted by human industry as the farmlands had been full of it. The riders had to pick their way around thick copses of gnarled trees and boulders overgrown with bright green moss. Croy led the way. He had an uncanny knack for knowing where the best route could be found. The others followed in single file. Slag rode his colt just in front of Malden, but the dwarf seemed as poor a horseman as the thief, because the colt kept stepping off the chosen path, its short legs finding better purchase elsewhere as they climbed over a fallen log or down into a defile. Then Maldens horse would follow the colt, and everyone would have to stop while all the horses were brought back in line.
It made for slow going. Malden had plenty of time to listen to the sounds of the forest, which constantly startled him in a way that the shouts of soldiers or the crash of thunder never could. Each bird sang with a song hed never heard, every frogs croak was the roar of some massive beast. At least the endless maze of trees felt enough like the walls of a citys houses that he did not feel so exposed, as he had out in the fields of wheat.
It made for slow going. Malden had plenty of time to listen to the sounds of the forest, which constantly startled him in a way that the shouts of soldiers or the crash of thunder never could. Each bird sang with a song hed never heard, every frogs croak was the roar of some massive beast. At least the endless maze of trees felt enough like the walls of a citys houses that he did not feel so exposed, as he had out in the fields of wheat.