Free Last Sword Of Power by David Gemmell Page A

left the Halls of Asgard?' asked Cormac. 'Is it Ragnorak? Has the end of the world come?'
    Revelation chuckled. 'Three fine questions, Cormac! The most important, though, is the last. If we are all alive in the morning, I will answer it for you. But for now let us prepare. Take Anduine to the altar stone and lift her over the chalk-marks. None of them must be disturbed.'
    The youth did as he was bid, then he drew his sword and plunged it in the ground beside him. The sun was dipping over the sea in red fire and the sky was streaked with glowing clouds.
    'Come here,' said Revelation and Cormac squatted down beside him.
    'Tonight you will be tested. I want you to understand that it will begin with deceit and they will want you to leave the Circle. But you must be strong -no matter what happens. Do you understand?'
    'Stay within the Circle. Yes I understand.'
    'If they break through, one of us must kill Anduine.'
    'No!'
    'Yes. They must not have her power. There is so much I wish I could explain, Cormac. You asked about Ragnorak. It will come soon if they take her - later, if they do not. But, believe me, it will be the better for her to die at our hands than theirs.'
    'How can we fight demons?'
    'You cannot. I can. But, if they fail, they will be followed by men. I wish I knew how many. Then you will fight. I hope Grysstha taught you well.'
    'He did,' said Connac. 'But I am frightened now.'
    'As am I; there is no shame in that. Fetch your sword.'
    Cormac turned and rose to see the maid Anduine kneeling by the blade, her hands slowly running down the length of the steel.
    'What are you doing?' he asked.
    'Nothing that will harm you, Connac,' she replied, pulling the sword clear of the earth and offering it to him, hilt first.
    The sun sank, the last glimmerings of light fading in the western sky. A cool wind rose, hissing through the long grass. Cormac shivered and took his sword to the waiting Revelation.
    'Sit down and gaze upon the blade,' said Revelation. 'It is a part of you now. Your harmony, your spirit, your life flows through it. These three mysteries a warrior must understand: Life, Harmony and Spirit. The first is Life, sometimes called the Greek gift, for it is taken back day after day. What is it? It is breath, it is laughter, it is joy. It is a candle whose flame falls towards a tomb. The brighter the light, the shorter its existence. But one thing is certain - and this the warrior knows. All lives end. A man can hide in a cave all his days, avoiding war, avoiding pestilence, and still he will one day die. Better the bright flame, the great joy. A man who has never known sorrow can never appreciate joy. So the man who has not faced death can never understand life.
    'Harmony, Cormac, is the second mystery. The tree knows harmony, and the breeze and the quiet stars. Man rarely finds it. Find it now, here on this lonely hill. Listen to the beating of your heart, feel the air in your lungs, see the glory of the moon. Be at one with the night. Be at one with these stones. Be at one with your sword and yourself. For in harmony is strength, and in strength there is life.
    'Lastly there is Spirit. Tonight you will want to run ... to hide ... to escape. But spirit will tell you to stand firm. It is a small voice and easy to shut out. But you will listen. For spirit is all a man has against the Darkness. And only by following the voice of spirit can a man grow strong. Courage, loyalty, friendship and love are all gifts of spirit.
    'I know you cannot understand now all that I am saying, but soak the words into your soul. For tonight you will see evil and know despair.'
    'I will not run. I will not hide,' said the boy.
    Revelation placed his hand on Cormac's shoulder. 'I know that.'
    A swirling mist rose up around them like the smoke of a great fire, rolling tendrils questing across the Circle and recoiling as it touched the chalk-lines. Higher and higher it rose, closing over their heads in a grey dome. Cormac's mouth was dry,