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