Free Legend of the Swords: War by Jason Derleth Page A

thought that he would own a horse, and he wanted to show Armand that he was taking good care of the animals.
    He was brushing the horses one evening after dinner, when Armand came to him with an empty set of saddlebags.
    “Ryan, the other knights have arrived.” Armand’s eyes drooped down to the ground. “You squires aren’t really ready for this, but we’re heading out tomorrow morning. We need to get to the Gredarin as soon as possible. The Triols are already moving.” He sighed. “I had thought we would have another week or two, but it looks like…well, it doesn’t matter, really.” He shrugged. “You’ll do your best, I’m sure—for what it’s worth.” He held out the saddlebags. “Pack these with an extra set of clothes and as much food as will fit.”
    “Sir, have I done something wrong?” Ryan said, apologetically. “I don’t understand. I’m fairly good with the sword in practice, now.” Armand frowned, and Ryan paused for a second, then continued. “I—I know that practice isn’t battle , but I’m the best squire here.”
    Armand looked at him for a long time before he finally answered, voice harsh. “Squire, don’t question your knight. That’s a basic rule.” He turned on his heel and was gone, leaving Ryan fuming.
    What was that? Ryan thought to himself. I’ve done everything he asked, I win almost every sparring match with the others…what does he want? Ryan absentmindedly packed the horse’s brush, a couple of nosebags, and some good oats into one of the saddlebags. He rolled up two extra saddle blankets and attached them to the back of the saddles.
    He went back to the squires’ room to get clothes packed. The other squires were also busy packing, so there wasn’t much chatter.
    A few minutes after Ryan started looking through his things, Gregory, the commander of their unit and one of the Knights of the Crown, came through. He was carrying several identical, simply made steel swords in one hand, and a smaller, heavier bag in the other hand. He set the heavy bag down, grabbed a sword, and held it out by the sheath to the squire nearest the door. It happened to be Brian.
    “You squires haven’t used real swords much.” He looked around the room, clearly enjoying the eager looks that the weapons were getting. “Tonight you’re going to have to learn how to take care of one.” He gestured at Brian, who took the sword into his hands and unsheathed it.
    Its blade was straight, thickest in the middle near the hilt. It tapered evenly through most of its length, but the width narrowed more quickly near the point. The blade had a diamond cross-section, with a thick ridge in the middle. The edge had been sharpened with a rough tool that had left tool marks on it.
    “These are sharpened about as sharp as you ever want a sword. It’s not meant to be a knife.” He grinned. “Find something else to skin any rabbits you catch. This blade is meant to go through armor, as you know, and that’ll put a big notch in a too-sharp edge.
    “Still, we’re going to learn how to sharpen them properly tonight—these were sharpened with a file. A file’s fine if you’ve got it, but they’re hard to keep clean in the field, and once a file’s rusted, it’s not gonna help you. Grab a stone from this bag,” he nudged the heavy sack, “And get busy. Sharpening a sword is different than sharpening a knife. With a knife, you move the blade down the stone and keep it at the same angle; with a sword, you move the stone down the blade, and keeping that stone straight is far more difficult.” He looked around the room at the boys, eyebrows raised, grinning. “Well, what are you waiting for? Come get yer sword!”
    Ryan let the others go in front of him. He realized when the sword was handed to him that it was a little long for him—a bit longer than three feet—but it had a nice sized pommel on the hilt, which would give it a nice balance. It had a belt attached to the hilt, so he