Currently in Earphones: Danny the Dog by Massive Attack
A few quick things before the next installation of my Swords story. The first, I've re-enabled comments for anyone on this blog, seeing as I've been paranoid long enough. I do warn the potential flamers out there, all comments will be sent to me for clearance before they are posted, so don't try anything funny.
Secondly, I consider this tale as a work in progress. I fully expect to get input on how people think the story is and what could be improved. Everything that's going up is basically a rough draft, formed well enough to have people see but in no way finished. Let me know what y'all think!
Thirdly, I got to see Casino Royale a week back, and I loved the heck out of it. Le Chiffre is probably my favorite Bond villain of them all: I don't know if this was an invention of the script-writers, but to have him be asthmatic was friggin awesome. The funny thing, as I was telling Patrick a few days ago, was that for all the sucking on the Albuteral that the villain did, he was very rarely out of breath. Anyway, everyone go watch it, if you haven't already.
And away we go!
Chapter 3: Friendship
The sun had climbed slightly closer to it’s apex since Touchstone had last checked, and he stood up on the knoll in order to stretch his legs. Since he still had quite some time until the meeting was to occur, he unsheathed Doomgiver and began to practice his footwork on the gently sloping hill. After he had found his footing, his body naturally settled into the familiar sets of parry drills. His mind free, he continued to think about his recovery in Ginndem Keep.
Although he didn’t see Esther again after that first encounter, he was looked after by the matronly Lady Ginndem. She had clucked and fussed over the young Fool’s thin and lanky frame, bringing him hearty stews, meats, and breads for his meals. Touchstone was only too happy to oblige, though he was also weak enough to not be able to refuse. Lady Ginndem reminded him of his own mother; the round and solid frame, the quiet voice, and the care in everything she did. Under her care, Ginndem Keep began to feel like a second home.
A week after his arrival, he was up and walking again, if not quickly, and he had begun to explore the keep with Esther. The practice yard caught his interest, being a man of the sword, yet she was quick to point out that no-one used it during the winter, the weather being too harsh. They visited Esther’s sunroom as well, and Touchstone was fascinated by the system of oiled animal-skins that both let in sunlight yet maintained a pleasantly warm temperature within. There was also a small fire-pit in the middle of the room, “Mainly to keep me warm in the colder months,” she had explained, “most of these plants can survive the cold, but there are a few that I can lose if I’m not careful.” Touchstone felt a certain comfort resting in the sunroom, the green surrounding him lightened his thoughts and his heart, and he found himself spending many a time conversing with Esther among the plants.
Another week passed, and the young Fool felt strength returning. He found himself spending more and more time in Esther’s company, her friendship was invaluable, but he also felt the thrill of knowing that there may be more to their simple desire to wile away the hours with each other. Whenever they accidentally bumped into each other, whenever their hands brushed as each passed by, Touchstone felt a desire that he had not felt since his days of courting in the southern lands. He wanted to become involved with Esther because it filled the hole in his heart, but at the same time he did not want to, and when he felt the latter he would become quiet and twist the silver ring around his finger.
He was saved the trouble of dealing with his feelings when a new visitor arrived at Ginndem Keep. A young man, of similar stature as Touchstone, approached and kneeled before Lord Ginndem, while the young Fool and Esther watched from the side. “I am the Lord of Helmrune, sir,” the young man stated.
Lord Ginndem sat back in his throne, waiting for some further explanation. When none came, he asked “And what brings you to Ginndem Keep?”
Helmrune’s face, maintaining a blank passivity, said “My father wishes that I leave and explore the world, now that I have received Lordship.” Touchstone felt somewhat disquieted by the lack of animation on the young Lord’s face, and whether or not Lord Ginndem felt the same way, he could not tell, for he was busy smoothing his mustache out, much as he had the day Touchstone had arrived.
“I’m curious, boy,” said Lord Ginndem, and if Helmrune took offence at the diminutive, his face showed no sign, “Why here? Ginndem Keep isn’t full of any court intrigue, and combat or military training can be had better and more easily with some our neighbors.”
A shadow of thought passed over Helmrune’s face, but it came and left so quickly that Touchstone thought he might have imagined it. The young Lord took a breath, “It is the first step on my journey.”
Lord Ginndem paused, digesting this small piece of information, and then smiled at Helmrune. It was a friendly smile, but it lacked the warmth that Touchstone remembered from his own experience. “Very well. I daresay you’ll have some good company, what with another wanderer staying with us as well.” Lord Ginndem looked toward the place where Touchstone and Esther were standing, and Helmrune followed his gaze. The eyes of the two young men met, and the young Fool felt a clash of emotion. He saw in Helmrune many qualities of himself, which would otherwise inspire a growing desire to become friends. Yet, for almost the same reasons, he was repulsed, perhaps because he also saw his failings, perhaps for some other, unknown, reason.
Ignoring his opposing thoughts, Touchstone strode forward and introduced himself, warmly shaking the newcomer’s hand. Helmrune’s face remained impassive, but the greeting was returned with no less cordiality. The young Fool found himself having a hard time looking at the young Lords face as pleasantries were exchanged, and was embarrassed that he could neither meet his gaze nor hold it for very long. It was simply a feeling of dislike, but founded on no reason that the young Fool could think of. Upon Lord Ginndem’s suggestion, Esther led Helmrune to a room he could stay in, and Touchstone was left alone to mull over the new arrival.
Lord Ginndem had sat back down on his throne as Touchstone approached. The young Fool rubbed his stubbly chin, thinking, while in the Lords field of view, both of the current situation and his distaste for shaving. “What troubles you, lad?” said the Lord.
“I don’t know,” replied the Fool, “There’s something about Helmrune I find disquieting.”
“While he is decidedly less…animate, he seems to possess the same sincerity that I see in you.”
“That is the crux: I see no reason why I should feel so off balance.”
“You’ll find, lad, that there are people in the world who will make you feel that way,” said the Lord, “Sometimes, it’s as you say: there seems to be no reason for it. If you think time away from him would be best for you, the Keep is large.”
“I don’t know,” replied the young Fool, “I’ll have to see how this all plays out.”
Another week then passed, and the young Fool and the young Lord met each other sporadically. Touchstone would often join Esther and Helmrune at the hearth of the great hall, and the young Lord sometimes sat with the others in the Sunroom. Each man began to learn of each other as the three passed the time in conversation. Touchstone would tell of great myths and legends of old, bringing smiles to Esther’s and even Helmrune’s stoic face. The young Lord himself would tell of his life in the East, and the others would listen attentively, asking questions and relating similar tales of their own. Esther, by far, told the best stories, both of her life in the Keep and her knowledge of things that grow. Each of the young men devoured her words with hungry ears, and all would laugh or be silent as one when she held the conversation.
Though friendship grew between the three, Touchstone never quite became comfortable with the young Lord. Even during times when they felt like brothers, there was an odd detachment in the young Fool’s mind. Perhaps it was Helmrune’s inscrutability, the lack of response that would tell the young Fool how the other regarded him in his turn. Eventually it faded to the back of his mind and became a natural part of his life with the Keep.
While that situation eased into a sense of normalcy, Touchstone’s relationship with Esther remained mostly unchanged. Though the two shared time together, perhaps a few quiet words on the parapets at night, a few moments sharing each others warmth under the cold night sky, the young Fool couldn’t bring himself to fully explain his situation to her, or to fully begin to court her. As much as he desired change, he also felt the pull of the past, and the chance that he had to go back.
In addition to his own uncertainty on the matter, Esther also was spending more time with Helmrune. Whether in friendship or flirtation was something that Touchstone couldn’t tell, but he believed that his own reticence was most likely contributing to the whole situation. Such things became background occurrences to the cameraderie that they all shared, however, and life continued to go on within the stone walls.
To Be Continued in Chapter 4
Enough. More Later,
- James
Friday, November 24, 2006
Friday, November 17, 2006
Haec mala sunt, sed tu non meliora facis.
Currently in Earphones: Captain Blood Soundtrack by Erich Wolfgang Korngold
Alas, another interim post. I'm currently besieged by 3 papers (Philosophy, Classics and Latin) which has resulted in my dropping out of the Turkey Tourney. Hopefully I can finish the first and get started on the second this weekend, that is, when I'm not watching Casino Royale and making yummy food with my housemate, Sophia.
"A Story of Swords" is coming along, I'm partway into chapter 3 at the moment, but scholastic writing has to take precedent. Look for the next installment a week or two into December.
On the good news (yet somewhat poorly timed), a bunch of leisure items have collected in my room over the past week. A bunch of soundtracks must have all decided that after some crappy deliveries of previous items, they would arrive early and sequentially by day. In addition, Cindy is letting me borrow a bunch of fantasy novels, which are all turning out to be made of awesomeness. All of this would be excellent if I had more time to enjoy them, but as stated before, I've got a lot of academics on my plate at the moment.
That's all for now, tune in next time!
Enough. More later,
- James
Alas, another interim post. I'm currently besieged by 3 papers (Philosophy, Classics and Latin) which has resulted in my dropping out of the Turkey Tourney. Hopefully I can finish the first and get started on the second this weekend, that is, when I'm not watching Casino Royale and making yummy food with my housemate, Sophia.
"A Story of Swords" is coming along, I'm partway into chapter 3 at the moment, but scholastic writing has to take precedent. Look for the next installment a week or two into December.
On the good news (yet somewhat poorly timed), a bunch of leisure items have collected in my room over the past week. A bunch of soundtracks must have all decided that after some crappy deliveries of previous items, they would arrive early and sequentially by day. In addition, Cindy is letting me borrow a bunch of fantasy novels, which are all turning out to be made of awesomeness. All of this would be excellent if I had more time to enjoy them, but as stated before, I've got a lot of academics on my plate at the moment.
That's all for now, tune in next time!
Enough. More later,
- James
Saturday, November 11, 2006
A Story of Swords, Part 2
Currently in Earphones: Chocolat Soundtrack by Rachel Portman
The next chapter of my story feels fairly ready. I'm at a point where I've touched on all the places I want to, but I'm unsure if I want to add any more bits and pieces. I'll post it as it is now, and if I come up with any other ideas or additions, I'll add them later.
By the way, Lord Ginndem's line about goodness and humility is from Robert Louis Stevenson, taken from his excellent book Kidnapped. Just wanting to cite my sources.
Chapter 2: Safety
Shaking his head, Touchstone brought himself back to the grassy knoll and out of the reverie that he was usually wont to fall into. He still had time before the confrontation would occur, and thinking about it only made him think back as to how the whole mess came together. He found himself remembering the first time he had arrived at the Keep.
It had been a cold day, and the first snows of winter were beginning to fall. Having lived in the south all his life, snow was a novelty, and in spite of the burden on his heart, he found himself enjoying the simple pleasures of tasting the falling flakes. He was, however, near starving as well. His foolish pride made him only eat little from the few houses he stayed in during the last few days of his travel. Whether this fasting was caused by bravado or reduced sense of self-worth, he was near collapsing as he trudged the last few paces toward the drawbridge of Ginndem Keep.
The commoners in the area had informed him of the character of Lord Ginndem: a stern man, but also generous and good-hearted. Since the Fool had come from a good family, if not well known, his name if not his upright bearing would no doubt vouchsafe him with the Lord. Touchstone could barely stand as he was announced and brought before him. While kneeling and delivering salutations, he thought it better to stay on one leg as he explained his situation, fearful that he would faint and end up in the dungeon, much less a room, before his position was known.
After the initial greetings and when the young fool had given as much truth as he thought pertinent, Lord Ginndem smoothed his mustache with his thumb and forefinger: “Some time away from home, eh lad? I’m no stranger myself to needing time to collect ones’ thoughts.” Pausing, he heaved a sigh. “The snows are coming, however, and much of my people winter in the keep.”
Understanding, Touchstone quickly explained “If I am too much of a burden, I need not stay long. I will work and make myself useful, if it pleases you, and keep to myself. I don’t wish to be unwanted, and I would rather be of use than idle.”
Smiling, as if the young Fool had passed a test, the Lord rose from his throne and moved towards him with surprising grace for a man of his girth. “There are two things,” he said, his eyes still smiling though his mouth had adopted a more serious set, “that man should never tire of: goodness and humility; we get none too much of them in this rough world and among cold, proud people. You, my boy, seem to possess both, and for that, you are welcome here.” Touchstone bowed his head in thanks, and the Lord made a dismissive noise and clapped him on the shoulder. As Touchstone looked back up at the Lord, his vision sparkled with fatigue.
Lord Ginndem continued; “I daresay things will be more interesting about the keep now that we have a new visitor. My family often gets restless after they have met with their old friends, and I’m sure my daughters wouldn’t mind a young man to give their attentions to.” Although the boy caught the mischievousness in the old man’s voice, vision and hearing alike were becoming hazy, and he managed to look around the Lord’s shoulder to a new figure approaching the room.
She was a young woman, of middle height, with raven black hair and a pleasantly round face. Obviously one of the Lord’s daughters, judging by her dress, and the last thing Touchstone remembered was seeing her eyes widen as she caught sight of him kneeling in front of her father. At the end of his strength, he crumpled to the side and knew no more.
The next he remembered, he was lying in a soft bed with warm covers. A fire was crackling and snapping pleasantly in the nearby fireplace, and his clothes had been washed and folded on a chair next to him. To his relief, the black hilt of Doomgiver was visible over the chairs back, the scabbard and belt draped over the side. He idly rubbed his thumb over the side of his forefinger, and he felt the same comfort of seeing the sword as finding the small silver ring in its usual place. A simple knot design adorned it, and remembering that it had a twin to the south brought back his melancholy. The feeling was dull, however; his new situation and surroundings taking the majority of his interest. If he was to continue on, he mused, he couldn’t let the past shackle him.
As he was alternately marveling at the quality of the room and mulling over his thoughts, the Lord’s daughter whom he had seen earlier entered the room with a tray of simple food. Approaching the bed, she said “I’ve brought you some food, my lord.”
“Please,” said he, “I’m no lord. You may call me Touchstone.”
“A fool’s name?” she asked as she set the tray on the bed stand.
“For a Fool I am,” he replied. “If you don’t mind,” he added sheepishly, “I’m quite hungry…”
“Oh, of course!” and helped him sit up before placing the tray in his lap, for he was still weak with fatigue. As he munched on the warm meat and bread, she sat down in a chair next to the bed, “I heard your story from father. You’re from the lands to the south?”
“Indeed I am.” He paused, wanting to qualify his answer, but also anxious of saying too much. “I was in need of a change of scenery.”
She looked pensive, then laughed and said “Why did you really leave?”
Caught off guard at her frankness and insight, he thought for a moment. “I suppose you could say that things changed. Complications arose. I could no longer find my footing, and I needed to continue moving. So, in a sense, I really did need a change of scenery, if not for simply being bored.”
Smiling and seemingly satisfied at the further, if not clearer, explanation, she started and said, “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m Esther, Lord Ginndem’s eldest.”
“A pleasure,” said Touchstone, then added wryly “and have you any equally obscure past?”
She shrugged, “I’ve lived here and around here all my life. There was a time when I wished to be somewhere, anywhere, else than here, but I found new friends and new activities to keep me occupied. The local naturalist taught me of plants and creatures a long time ago, and I’ve been fascinated by such things ever since. Father even let me keep a sunroom for growing herbs and the like.” She giggled and continued, “I daresay he can’t get by now without a little Rosemary seasoning his food, he loves the taste so much.”
Touchstone nodded. Since he had left the southern lands he had run into few young women, but he found their vapidity unappealing. Esther’s interest in things beyond court gossip and such things was refreshing, and even attractive.
As his heart stirred, old memories also came to the surface, and he began to twist the silver ring around his finger. Catching sight of this, Esther asked, “What is that?”
Collecting his wits, he replied, “A memento,” then added, almost without thinking, “of something, perhaps, long gone.”
Seeing the simple design, she tilted her head. “Perhaps…it’s closer than you think.”
Wrapped up in his own thoughts, Touchstone could only manage a small chuckle, even though her statement made him think harder. His eyes were partly on the ring and partly on Esther as she moved toward the door. “By the way,” she said, pausing under the lintel, “You talk in your sleep.” Startled by the remark, Touchstone lifted his eyes to see Esther closing the door, but still looking at him with an enigmatic smile on her face.
He was then alone, with only some food, the ring, Doomgiver, and his thoughts.
To be continued in Chapter 3
Enough. More Later,
- James
The next chapter of my story feels fairly ready. I'm at a point where I've touched on all the places I want to, but I'm unsure if I want to add any more bits and pieces. I'll post it as it is now, and if I come up with any other ideas or additions, I'll add them later.
By the way, Lord Ginndem's line about goodness and humility is from Robert Louis Stevenson, taken from his excellent book Kidnapped. Just wanting to cite my sources.
Chapter 2: Safety
Shaking his head, Touchstone brought himself back to the grassy knoll and out of the reverie that he was usually wont to fall into. He still had time before the confrontation would occur, and thinking about it only made him think back as to how the whole mess came together. He found himself remembering the first time he had arrived at the Keep.
It had been a cold day, and the first snows of winter were beginning to fall. Having lived in the south all his life, snow was a novelty, and in spite of the burden on his heart, he found himself enjoying the simple pleasures of tasting the falling flakes. He was, however, near starving as well. His foolish pride made him only eat little from the few houses he stayed in during the last few days of his travel. Whether this fasting was caused by bravado or reduced sense of self-worth, he was near collapsing as he trudged the last few paces toward the drawbridge of Ginndem Keep.
The commoners in the area had informed him of the character of Lord Ginndem: a stern man, but also generous and good-hearted. Since the Fool had come from a good family, if not well known, his name if not his upright bearing would no doubt vouchsafe him with the Lord. Touchstone could barely stand as he was announced and brought before him. While kneeling and delivering salutations, he thought it better to stay on one leg as he explained his situation, fearful that he would faint and end up in the dungeon, much less a room, before his position was known.
After the initial greetings and when the young fool had given as much truth as he thought pertinent, Lord Ginndem smoothed his mustache with his thumb and forefinger: “Some time away from home, eh lad? I’m no stranger myself to needing time to collect ones’ thoughts.” Pausing, he heaved a sigh. “The snows are coming, however, and much of my people winter in the keep.”
Understanding, Touchstone quickly explained “If I am too much of a burden, I need not stay long. I will work and make myself useful, if it pleases you, and keep to myself. I don’t wish to be unwanted, and I would rather be of use than idle.”
Smiling, as if the young Fool had passed a test, the Lord rose from his throne and moved towards him with surprising grace for a man of his girth. “There are two things,” he said, his eyes still smiling though his mouth had adopted a more serious set, “that man should never tire of: goodness and humility; we get none too much of them in this rough world and among cold, proud people. You, my boy, seem to possess both, and for that, you are welcome here.” Touchstone bowed his head in thanks, and the Lord made a dismissive noise and clapped him on the shoulder. As Touchstone looked back up at the Lord, his vision sparkled with fatigue.
Lord Ginndem continued; “I daresay things will be more interesting about the keep now that we have a new visitor. My family often gets restless after they have met with their old friends, and I’m sure my daughters wouldn’t mind a young man to give their attentions to.” Although the boy caught the mischievousness in the old man’s voice, vision and hearing alike were becoming hazy, and he managed to look around the Lord’s shoulder to a new figure approaching the room.
She was a young woman, of middle height, with raven black hair and a pleasantly round face. Obviously one of the Lord’s daughters, judging by her dress, and the last thing Touchstone remembered was seeing her eyes widen as she caught sight of him kneeling in front of her father. At the end of his strength, he crumpled to the side and knew no more.
The next he remembered, he was lying in a soft bed with warm covers. A fire was crackling and snapping pleasantly in the nearby fireplace, and his clothes had been washed and folded on a chair next to him. To his relief, the black hilt of Doomgiver was visible over the chairs back, the scabbard and belt draped over the side. He idly rubbed his thumb over the side of his forefinger, and he felt the same comfort of seeing the sword as finding the small silver ring in its usual place. A simple knot design adorned it, and remembering that it had a twin to the south brought back his melancholy. The feeling was dull, however; his new situation and surroundings taking the majority of his interest. If he was to continue on, he mused, he couldn’t let the past shackle him.
As he was alternately marveling at the quality of the room and mulling over his thoughts, the Lord’s daughter whom he had seen earlier entered the room with a tray of simple food. Approaching the bed, she said “I’ve brought you some food, my lord.”
“Please,” said he, “I’m no lord. You may call me Touchstone.”
“A fool’s name?” she asked as she set the tray on the bed stand.
“For a Fool I am,” he replied. “If you don’t mind,” he added sheepishly, “I’m quite hungry…”
“Oh, of course!” and helped him sit up before placing the tray in his lap, for he was still weak with fatigue. As he munched on the warm meat and bread, she sat down in a chair next to the bed, “I heard your story from father. You’re from the lands to the south?”
“Indeed I am.” He paused, wanting to qualify his answer, but also anxious of saying too much. “I was in need of a change of scenery.”
She looked pensive, then laughed and said “Why did you really leave?”
Caught off guard at her frankness and insight, he thought for a moment. “I suppose you could say that things changed. Complications arose. I could no longer find my footing, and I needed to continue moving. So, in a sense, I really did need a change of scenery, if not for simply being bored.”
Smiling and seemingly satisfied at the further, if not clearer, explanation, she started and said, “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m Esther, Lord Ginndem’s eldest.”
“A pleasure,” said Touchstone, then added wryly “and have you any equally obscure past?”
She shrugged, “I’ve lived here and around here all my life. There was a time when I wished to be somewhere, anywhere, else than here, but I found new friends and new activities to keep me occupied. The local naturalist taught me of plants and creatures a long time ago, and I’ve been fascinated by such things ever since. Father even let me keep a sunroom for growing herbs and the like.” She giggled and continued, “I daresay he can’t get by now without a little Rosemary seasoning his food, he loves the taste so much.”
Touchstone nodded. Since he had left the southern lands he had run into few young women, but he found their vapidity unappealing. Esther’s interest in things beyond court gossip and such things was refreshing, and even attractive.
As his heart stirred, old memories also came to the surface, and he began to twist the silver ring around his finger. Catching sight of this, Esther asked, “What is that?”
Collecting his wits, he replied, “A memento,” then added, almost without thinking, “of something, perhaps, long gone.”
Seeing the simple design, she tilted her head. “Perhaps…it’s closer than you think.”
Wrapped up in his own thoughts, Touchstone could only manage a small chuckle, even though her statement made him think harder. His eyes were partly on the ring and partly on Esther as she moved toward the door. “By the way,” she said, pausing under the lintel, “You talk in your sleep.” Startled by the remark, Touchstone lifted his eyes to see Esther closing the door, but still looking at him with an enigmatic smile on her face.
He was then alone, with only some food, the ring, Doomgiver, and his thoughts.
To be continued in Chapter 3
Enough. More Later,
- James
Monday, November 06, 2006
A Story of Swords, Part 1
Currently in Earphones: Caledonia's Hardy Sons, by Silly Wizard
I don't know how many of you all are familiar with Fred Saberhagen's Sword series, but I reccomend that you all go read them when you get the chance. Though I find most fan fiction to be somewhat repulsive, I'm trying my hand at writing a story of my own within the Swords universe. I've gotten the first chapter done, in a rough form at least. I'm still working on a title, but here's what I think can be shown for the time being.
Note: This story assumes you have some basic knolwedge of the Swords universe. I reccomend those who are unfamiliar to check out the above link and at least get info on the swords themselves. The characters of Keyes and Lo-Yang are from the short story Blind Man's Blade, written by Saberhagen and included in a book of short stories called An Armory of Swords, which would also be useful to peruse if any of the events hinted at in this chapter are unclear.
Chapter 1: Justice
From his perch on the grassy knoll, Touchstone could see far over the rolling hills into the distance. It was the beginning of spring, the chill winter colds having gradually been driven away and replaced with a balmy warm. It felt good to finally sit outside, after months of being cooped up in the keep. The recent freedom wasn’t going to last, he reflected, hearts and minds had been warring, almost since the snows began to fall, within the walls, and his own were no less involved in the conflict that would surely come to the surface as the days warmed.
The young Fool was a good friend of Ginndem clan, in whose keep he had been resident for the past winter. Having lost a life in one of the principates farther south, he had fled north with a single possession. A Sword, looking to be exactly a meter long, its black hilt un-mistakable: The white circle embedded in the smooth black had been a comfort as he had traveled north, its simple design soothing in comparison to the complicated life he left behind.
Touchstone now fingered the midnight hilt, the warm spring wind rustling through his brown hair as he remembered how it had come into his possession. During his flight he had come upon a magician and his apprentice, the former a dark and wiry man by the name of Keyes. He had worn a strip of cloth tied about his eyes, yet had walked as any seeing man did. It was the sword at his side that had taken the young Fool’s attention, the very one that was in his possession now.
Though Touchstone had still been numb with grief, Keyes had been kind in sharing some of the stew that his apprentice, Lo-Yang, had been cooking when the three had met. The warm firelight was comforting to the young fool, and the quiet companionship of the two men eased his mind. After they had eaten, the young man could only stare in wonder at the magician’s sightless vision.
“You’re probably wondering about my eyes,” said Keyes, with a small smile, “When I acquired Doomgiver, here, I temporarily lost my sight. Thinking this blade to be the Sword of Mercy, I tried to heal myself, but to no avail.” As if sensing Touchstone’s confusion, he laughed aloud and said “Have you not heard of the Twelve Swords of Power, forged by the Gods themselves? Then I shall tell you of them…”
That night, the young fool learned of Keyes’ research and of the Swords and their powers. Lo-Yang told of a traveling bard to whom they related their adventure with three of the great weapons, and the resulting song the bard composed concerning the Twelve Swords had spread like wildfire through the land. Despite of his melancholy, Touchstone, familiar with the song, quickly learned the verses he didn’t know and contributed his soft but true voice to a recitation of it. He even told the two men of his own plight, and neglected little detail, so safe he felt in their company.
After they had spoken for a while and they had become familiar with each other’s stories, the young fool asked of Keyes, “If your blindness was of magical origins and lifted by the Sword of Justice, then why do you still bind your eyes?” Keyes rubbed his forehead and responded “We never did get our hands on Woundhealer, and it was better to let my lids heal while closed. I experimented with Doomgiver further after our escape, and found that it kept me safe if I was merely traveling without the aid of my eyes. Lo-Yang can tell you: If I tried to make a purposeful attempt on my life, as I tried to walk off a cliff during my experimentation, the Sword of Justice recognized my foolhardiness and would not intervene.”
Lo-Yang, who appeared to have once been meek and servile, chuckled and remarked “I doubt you would have lasted half as long had you not me to fix your foolish errors.” With a wry smile, Keyes turned back to the young fool.
“I’m glad my apprentice has only recently decided to become thick-headed, I imagine I’d be in a much worse position if he had done so while I was in the cave.” The Master and the student shared a laugh at the goodhearted jibe. “In any case,” he continued, “Doomgiver continues to keep me safe from harm as it seems to know that I am, genuinely, unable to see until I heal. I trusted and continue to trust in the Swords power, and thus have I been able to function as you see me now.”
“A Sword that balances the pans…” Touchstone half-recited.
“Indeed,” replied Keyes, “the Blind Man’s Blade.” The young man found himself liking Keyes’ epithet for the sword, and aside from the obvious connotation, wondered why it felt so fitting. Keyes took a deep breath and untied the blindfold, blinked in the firelight a few times, then looked at his new companion. “It appears I no longer need it,” he remarked, fingering the cloth, “and it also appears that I no longer need the Sword of Justice.” Both Lo-Yang and the young Fool started as if one person.
“But why?” asked the apprentice, “Surely Doomgiver would keep us safe as we continued to look for the other swords.”
“I’ve had it long enough, and it looks like it would eventually find its way to someone else more in need of balance than I. No doubt that if I had it long enough, I could misuse it, and its power would surely turn back on me. Besides, it seems our young companion here could benefit from it." He turned back to the young Fool, "I like you, boy. You’ve got a good mind for knowledge and have more honesty than I’ve seen in a great while. You grasp what the Swords can do, and I believe such a power would be safe in your hands.” Lo-Yang, who had joked and laughed with Touchstone as the night had worn on, nodded in agreement as he grasped his master’s intentions.
Amazed and humbled, the young man took the sword and sheath from Keyes’ outstretched hands, which had deftly unbuckled them from his belt. After donning it, and feeling a new sense of belonging even with these near strangers, Touchstone clasped Keyes hand in thanks, and embraced him in spite of himself. Keyes smiled and gave the boy a friendly clap on the shoulder. “I will live up to your trust,” said the young Fool, “thank you for everything.”
“I believe you shall,” said Keyes, and added, enigmatically, “May Demeter’s caution protect you.”
The sun had just started to crest a line of hills in the east when Touchstone said his last goodbyes to the two men. Without their company, his own situation had once again weighed heavy on his heart, but he had set out with new hope and the Sword at his side. After a week of traveling northward, he had reached the gates of Ginndem Keep.
To Be Continued in Chapter 2
Enough, More Later,
- James
I don't know how many of you all are familiar with Fred Saberhagen's Sword series, but I reccomend that you all go read them when you get the chance. Though I find most fan fiction to be somewhat repulsive, I'm trying my hand at writing a story of my own within the Swords universe. I've gotten the first chapter done, in a rough form at least. I'm still working on a title, but here's what I think can be shown for the time being.
Note: This story assumes you have some basic knolwedge of the Swords universe. I reccomend those who are unfamiliar to check out the above link and at least get info on the swords themselves. The characters of Keyes and Lo-Yang are from the short story Blind Man's Blade, written by Saberhagen and included in a book of short stories called An Armory of Swords, which would also be useful to peruse if any of the events hinted at in this chapter are unclear.
Chapter 1: Justice
From his perch on the grassy knoll, Touchstone could see far over the rolling hills into the distance. It was the beginning of spring, the chill winter colds having gradually been driven away and replaced with a balmy warm. It felt good to finally sit outside, after months of being cooped up in the keep. The recent freedom wasn’t going to last, he reflected, hearts and minds had been warring, almost since the snows began to fall, within the walls, and his own were no less involved in the conflict that would surely come to the surface as the days warmed.
The young Fool was a good friend of Ginndem clan, in whose keep he had been resident for the past winter. Having lost a life in one of the principates farther south, he had fled north with a single possession. A Sword, looking to be exactly a meter long, its black hilt un-mistakable: The white circle embedded in the smooth black had been a comfort as he had traveled north, its simple design soothing in comparison to the complicated life he left behind.
Touchstone now fingered the midnight hilt, the warm spring wind rustling through his brown hair as he remembered how it had come into his possession. During his flight he had come upon a magician and his apprentice, the former a dark and wiry man by the name of Keyes. He had worn a strip of cloth tied about his eyes, yet had walked as any seeing man did. It was the sword at his side that had taken the young Fool’s attention, the very one that was in his possession now.
Though Touchstone had still been numb with grief, Keyes had been kind in sharing some of the stew that his apprentice, Lo-Yang, had been cooking when the three had met. The warm firelight was comforting to the young fool, and the quiet companionship of the two men eased his mind. After they had eaten, the young man could only stare in wonder at the magician’s sightless vision.
“You’re probably wondering about my eyes,” said Keyes, with a small smile, “When I acquired Doomgiver, here, I temporarily lost my sight. Thinking this blade to be the Sword of Mercy, I tried to heal myself, but to no avail.” As if sensing Touchstone’s confusion, he laughed aloud and said “Have you not heard of the Twelve Swords of Power, forged by the Gods themselves? Then I shall tell you of them…”
That night, the young fool learned of Keyes’ research and of the Swords and their powers. Lo-Yang told of a traveling bard to whom they related their adventure with three of the great weapons, and the resulting song the bard composed concerning the Twelve Swords had spread like wildfire through the land. Despite of his melancholy, Touchstone, familiar with the song, quickly learned the verses he didn’t know and contributed his soft but true voice to a recitation of it. He even told the two men of his own plight, and neglected little detail, so safe he felt in their company.
After they had spoken for a while and they had become familiar with each other’s stories, the young fool asked of Keyes, “If your blindness was of magical origins and lifted by the Sword of Justice, then why do you still bind your eyes?” Keyes rubbed his forehead and responded “We never did get our hands on Woundhealer, and it was better to let my lids heal while closed. I experimented with Doomgiver further after our escape, and found that it kept me safe if I was merely traveling without the aid of my eyes. Lo-Yang can tell you: If I tried to make a purposeful attempt on my life, as I tried to walk off a cliff during my experimentation, the Sword of Justice recognized my foolhardiness and would not intervene.”
Lo-Yang, who appeared to have once been meek and servile, chuckled and remarked “I doubt you would have lasted half as long had you not me to fix your foolish errors.” With a wry smile, Keyes turned back to the young fool.
“I’m glad my apprentice has only recently decided to become thick-headed, I imagine I’d be in a much worse position if he had done so while I was in the cave.” The Master and the student shared a laugh at the goodhearted jibe. “In any case,” he continued, “Doomgiver continues to keep me safe from harm as it seems to know that I am, genuinely, unable to see until I heal. I trusted and continue to trust in the Swords power, and thus have I been able to function as you see me now.”
“A Sword that balances the pans…” Touchstone half-recited.
“Indeed,” replied Keyes, “the Blind Man’s Blade.” The young man found himself liking Keyes’ epithet for the sword, and aside from the obvious connotation, wondered why it felt so fitting. Keyes took a deep breath and untied the blindfold, blinked in the firelight a few times, then looked at his new companion. “It appears I no longer need it,” he remarked, fingering the cloth, “and it also appears that I no longer need the Sword of Justice.” Both Lo-Yang and the young Fool started as if one person.
“But why?” asked the apprentice, “Surely Doomgiver would keep us safe as we continued to look for the other swords.”
“I’ve had it long enough, and it looks like it would eventually find its way to someone else more in need of balance than I. No doubt that if I had it long enough, I could misuse it, and its power would surely turn back on me. Besides, it seems our young companion here could benefit from it." He turned back to the young Fool, "I like you, boy. You’ve got a good mind for knowledge and have more honesty than I’ve seen in a great while. You grasp what the Swords can do, and I believe such a power would be safe in your hands.” Lo-Yang, who had joked and laughed with Touchstone as the night had worn on, nodded in agreement as he grasped his master’s intentions.
Amazed and humbled, the young man took the sword and sheath from Keyes’ outstretched hands, which had deftly unbuckled them from his belt. After donning it, and feeling a new sense of belonging even with these near strangers, Touchstone clasped Keyes hand in thanks, and embraced him in spite of himself. Keyes smiled and gave the boy a friendly clap on the shoulder. “I will live up to your trust,” said the young Fool, “thank you for everything.”
“I believe you shall,” said Keyes, and added, enigmatically, “May Demeter’s caution protect you.”
The sun had just started to crest a line of hills in the east when Touchstone said his last goodbyes to the two men. Without their company, his own situation had once again weighed heavy on his heart, but he had set out with new hope and the Sword at his side. After a week of traveling northward, he had reached the gates of Ginndem Keep.
To Be Continued in Chapter 2
Enough, More Later,
- James
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)