Part 46 (1/2)

'You have ridden hard and fast through the great world of Elundium, giving little thought to rest and comfort and yet you hesitate on my threshold stone? Come forward, Thoronhand, be not afraid.'

'You know my name!' Thoron whispered, looking into the smoke-filled forge.

'You are as much a legend as I,' laughed Durondell, emerging through the smoke to take Thoron's arm. 'How could I forget the sword I forged long ago for Nevian to give

to you, the last Errant Rider of the Granite Kings, who has come back from the shadows of the City of Night. I knew you by the hilt of the sword at your belt.'

Thoron looked down and took the hilt, drawing the sword I from its sheath. 'Nevian bade me to show you the blade and

ask you to reforge it, strong enough to shatter stone.'

Durondell frowned, took the sword from Thoron's hand and walked towards the white hot furnace. 'Each blade I have fas.h.i.+oned has served a purpose in the making of Elundium, but to reforge strong enough to shatter stone. ..'

Turning to Thoron he held up the blade. 'Only a King could lift the sword if I do as you ask. Only a King would have the power to carry it into battle.'

Thoron smiled, ruffling Eagle Owl's chest feathers. 'I ride upon the Lord of Horses and Nevian said that Eagle Owl will carry the sword, for he is the King of Battle Owls and pledged to it. The blade is not for my hands, but for my grandson, Thanehand, who runs hard on Krulshards' heels.'

'The Master of Nightmares!' Durondell whispered, running his fingers along the worn cutting edges of the blade. 'It will need all my skill and more to forge a blade against the Master of Nightmares, much more.'

'What will you need?' Thoron cried. 'If it is within my power the hors.e.m.e.n will fetch it.'

Durondell smiled, pointing to a small pile of seasoned oak splinters stacked beside the forge. 'I will need a forest of fuel

to fire the forge. Would your hors.e.m.e.n gather wood for me?'

'It will be done!' Thoron cried, motioning to the long column of hors.e.m.e.n to scatter through the nearby forest.

'Gather only fallen boughs,' Durondell shouted. 'Touch nothing that lives, it will spoil the molten steel.'

Turning back Durondell rummaged through the tall stands of steel, ringing his hammer on each length, searching for the perfect note. Darkness was falling and the first horses had returned, pulling long heavy wind-blown boughs behind them, before he found the piece of steel he sought and laid it

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beside the forge. 'The steel must be fire warm for one night.

Come, warriors, and rest and talk of battle days before the Nightmare ran loose in our fair Elundium. Tell me of the Granite City and the tall towers that mark the pa.s.sing daylights with their pencil-thin shadows. Tell me of the Granite King who keeps the sunlight pure and bright.'

'The King has gone!' Thoron whispered. 'Vanished without a trace, and the Granite City has been laid to ruins by a mighty Nightbeast army. Nothing remains but broken stone.

The Nightbeasts are spreading terror and fear far across Elundium.'

'Then we must hurry with this blade and forge it with strength against their shadows. You will be my striker when I split and laminate the blade. Be at my side as the new sun rides clear of World's Edge. Be ready!'

Long after the last horseman had fallen asleep Durondell returned to the forge and banked up the furnace in preparation for the forging. Pausing, he picked up the prewarmed sword and examined the blade, smiling in the soft glow of the fire. 'Tomorrowlight I will open your heart and temper you with a new strength for the task ahead.'

Putting the sword back into the charcoal cinders he frowned; this sword would need more than steel to make it Kingworthy. It would need something with more strength than ordinary steel that he could hammer into the blade.