Part 45 (2/2)
'Silver and gold!' Thane cried, dropping the dagger and reaching out with his free hand he pulled a handful of the coa.r.s.e hair from Stumble's crest. Faintness was sweeping over Thane in waves, he felt dizzy and light-headed. 'I must hurry,' he whispered, using the point of the dagger to pierce small holes on either side of the wound. Deftly he threaded strands of hair from hole to hole, looping the ends with his free hand. Bending forward he gripped each hair in turn in his teeth and pulled the knots tight. The last strand tied he sank back on to his heels and smiled weakly at Ogion.
'It is done!' he whispered, closing his eyes and falling forwards in a black faint.
Ogion pecked gently at his Queen's wing, nudging her against Thane's side out of the bitter wind. Motioning to the leader of swans he bade them cover Thane and Ousious with the cloak and keep the beach fire ablaze with kindling wood until he returned. Bending his neck he stared at the b.l.o.o.d.y splinter of black steel that lay where Thane had dropped it and hissed in rage. Picking it up in his beak he walked towards the water's edge to throw it away.
'What treasure do you carry, Lord of Swans?' called an ancient voice from the top of the bank above the pebblestrewn beach. Ogion turned, dropping the broken blade and spread his wings to charge. Nevian laughed and sprang light, down the bank on to the beach.
208.
'Master of Magic!' Ogion hissed, folding his wings. 'It is as you foretold. This search for Krulshards has led us to our doom. Ousious, my Queen, lies near to death and I fear that the spear thrust cut more than just flesh. I fear that it is the beginning of our silence.'
Nevian frowned and shook the rainbow cloak, sending brilliant shafts of summer light across the cold winter beach.
'Fate is a cruel master but even your Queen has played her part, for the Master Armourer of Elundium would call that broken blade beside your webbed foot a treasure rare and beautiful!'
'It is Nightmare steel, foul and black with shadows, marked with the blood of my Queen.'
'Yet,' whispered Nevian, pulling aside the cloak that covered Thane and Ousious, 'it failed to take her life and could be turned in purpose against the hand that threw it, against the Nightmare's heart. Take it, Lord of Swans, and carry it to Durondell for he has a great need of such strong metal.'
'Why should I spoil my beak for the skill of the Armourer?
He forges our death in the battle tools he makes in the heat of his furnace.'
Nevian reached out and touched Ogion's neck and pointed down at Thane. 'He gave his blood to save your Queen. The splinter of steel is his by right. Carry it for him to Durondell and repay the debt.'
Ogion bent his neck and held closed the ugly slash on Thane's wrist with his beak, until the sluggish flow of blood stopped altogether.
'You foretold he would protect us and for his deeds this day I will carry the blade.' Taking up the black metal in his beak he beat a path out across the lake and rose up over the ice field to vanish from the Magician's sight.
Nevian smiled, rubbing his age-wrinkled hand through Stumble's mane and pulled a coloured thread from the hem of his rainbow cloak. 'Great deeds are in the making,' he whispered, neatly sewing up the ugly gash on Thane's wrist
209.
before placing it back beneath the travel-worn cloak. 'Great deeds!' he sighed, looking out across Swanwater.
210.
The Sword is Reforged
Durondell, the Master Armourer, looked across at the dampened forge, rubbed his eyes and peered through the blue haze of wood smoke that drifted out into the winter sunlight.
The clatter of hoofbeats filled the air.
'Who comes to the Forge of Durondell?' he shouted, striking his long-handled blennis.h.i.+ng hammer on the spike of
the anvil. 'Come forward, warriors!' he cried, rising from his chair and impatiently wiping his spark-blackened hands on the edge of his leather ap.r.o.n before crossing the ashtrampled floor to where Thoron stood undecided between the wideflung doors.
'What has brought you in search of me? Hard riding on the Lord of Horses with a proud squadron of Gallopers must warrant a mighty cause. Come forward and speak!'
Thoron drew back out into the sunlight, his hand tight on Eguestrius' rein. 'Nevian bid me find you.'
Durondell laughed, casting his eye over the Gallopers.
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