Sword Bearer (Return of the Dragons 1)

She stared down at me, imperious. I felt very small, and had to remember that Carolina was just a tiny pixie housed in the pommel of my sword.

You have not even learned to shield your mind from me. I’m not trying to pry, and yet I hear everything. You think I’m tiny; yet if you were in my world, you would find me as tall or taller than you; and so it is right that I look down upon you. Anders Tomason, you should have talked to me sooner!

You are right, of course.

There was no point in arguing with someone who had full access to my mind.

I’m glad you’ve realized that at last, because there are a lot of things I need to tell you. The first thing is that people are staring at you.

I noticed, embarrassed, that the street was no longer empty. I went and sat down on a bench, and people stopped looking at me.

You will want to know about your uncle now, I think. I could have told you as much as Marga, and spared you that death.

I felt like a fool, and it hurt too, what she said. I wanted to be angry but instead I just felt ashamed. Why hadn’t I thought to ask her?

We all make mistakes. I could have shocked you into contacting me, too, and I should have. Please don’t be too hard on yourself — you are young, although I’m sure you’re tired of hearing that. I am much older and should have been more vigilant, and shielded both of you. My attention was elsewhere, and I feel the same shame as you. We must work as a team from now on.

I know I have a lot to learn.

Carolina smiled then. It is hard for me to remember what it was like to be so young. You are the youngest sword bearer I have ever served. Accept my apologies for my harsh words; I am impatient trapped in this fairy house, all the more so when you do not talk to me and I cannot contact you, and help you in your trials.

I thought time passed more slowly for your kind?

She smiled again. They’ve always called me the impatient one. My mother was afraid I was part human, once. Everything is relative; for a human I am incredibly patient, for a pixie I am very impatient. That is why I chose to serve in a sword, because I craved action.

What did you want to tell me?

Now that I have scolded you I will tell you. You know that the sword and I have been passed down from generation to generation, correct?

Yes.

What you may not know is that never has there been a blade as strong as the one you wield; not even the first blade, twenty-five generations back, although that sword at least was forged whole, not of fragments.

Twenty-five generations?

You humans have short lives.

And you remember back my family’s lineage for twenty-five generations?

I remember when the city you stand in now was being built, stone by stone. And that was but twenty generations ago.

But that must make you enormously powerful.

Caroline smiled. It is not just the Book of Id that the so called Dark Lord seeks. He seeks your sword too, and had it not been hidden from him with a trick by your blade master, he would have had me too, and destroyed or imprisoned me, as he knew I would never serve him.

Giancarlo said you had refused him.

Luckily for us both your uncle was young and inexperienced then, not nearly as evil, and not a hundredth as powerful as he would become but a few years later. He did not realize what a powerful thing he held when Giancarlo gave me into his hands and I refused to show myself to him. I knew even then he would have stopped at nothing until I served him. And I knew from just a touch of his hand how evil he was, how he was the split from the blood line that had been foretold for centuries; that his nephew would be the one would set things aright, and who would reunite the other two bloodlines. Your mother was both Kriek and Mer, and I do not think even your father realized this; she had been orphaned in a shipwreck, and raised by coastal peoples, done well in school, and worked then at the court, where she met your father.

And my father? Why didn’t you serve him?

Your father was special. The moment he held me in his hand I knew he would never willingly kill. He had a respect for life, of friends or enemies, that was too great to overcome. He knew it too, and refused me, choosing to swing a cane instead. It was hard, for I would have served him well, and been proud to. His uncle was just the opposite; he had no respect for life, human or animal. Those two brothers were opposites in almost every way. So I refused one brother, and the other brother refused me, and Giancarlo kept me hidden and safe while the one forgot me and the other did not even realize my existence.

And my grandfather?

He died before he could see which of his sons would inherit the sword, or how it would be forgotten. He was a man of peace, too, but he at least wore the sword in his peacekeeping duties. Your grandfather did manage to give instructions though, to a young apprentice of his blademaster, who would soon take over his master’s role.

Giancarlo.