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Abstract

me boy. I’m older than you.’‘Yet so much smaller.’ Nachal wedged her warrior’s bulk past him. She’d donned extra furs against the chill of the caves, but her bare arms glistened in the glow cast by the blade. ‘Fetch your damned magic sword and let’s get our carcasses out of here.’Reki followed, nervous now the moment had come. The sword would bring great power to he who wielded it. So his master’s books claimed.His fingers tingled with magic. The spell he’d bought in the souk at Yahdiz was weak, but there were ways to strengthen it. He slipped the dagger he’d stolen from his master out of its hidden sheath. Hiding the weapon from Nachal in the weeks since he’d hired her in Yahdiz was easy. Brawn over brains — she’d come cheap for a mercenary.Nachal bent to examine the sword. Reki raised the rune-covered dagger and rammed it into her neck. Blood spurted over rock and steel. Nachal staggered and collapsed.‘Thank you,’ she gasped. She died quickly.Reki barely noted her words as the sword brightened. He wrapped his blood and magic tainted fingers around the pommel and pulled. At first, nothing. Then it slipped free. The remnants of Nachal’s spilt blood seeped into the blade. Reki glanced at her bo

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dy. He’d never killed anyone before.He retrieved the dagger from the warrior’s neck with a tinge of regret as the magic faded.He hurried back down the passageway. Grunting cries echoed ahead.Orcs!A voice came from the sword. ‘I could help you, boy, but…’Reki almost dropped the blade. ‘Nachal?’Nachal sighed. ‘Why d’you think it’s called the Blade of Souls, boy? There’s at least five of us in here.’‘How?’‘Hardly the time for questions.’ A second voice. Deep. Male.‘Who..?’‘I am Arak. Demon Slayer. Bane of…’ There was a muffled grunt from within the blade, as though Arak had been elbowed in the ribs. ‘Husband of Nachal, Lioness of Yahdiz,’ the voice finished lamely.The orc howls increased.‘You have reunited us with blood and magic,’ Arak’s voice boomed. ‘I may have cause to curse you one day…’ another muffled grunt. ‘But I will aid you now, boy.’The blade in Reki’s hand pulled him towards the sounds of the orc horde. Reki whimpered, closed his eyes. The sword whirled him like a dervish; into the air, across caverns, along passageways, accompanied by the screams of dying orcs.</article></body>

Blade of Souls

A wizard’s apprentice seeks power

Image public domain, taken from the British Library

Elvish steel gleamed, muting the flames from Reki’s torch. The bluish light dispelled the cavern’s shadows as he stared at the sword buried tip first in the rock floor.

He glanced back the way they’d come. ‘That was easy.’

Nachal grinned. ‘Don’t knock it, boy,’ she said. ‘I’ve hired out on a few quests. It’s usually a bitch to fight your way in.’

They’d met a pack of orcs. Nachal had despatched them with brutal efficiency. Otherwise, the infamous Caverns of Karthick had been a tame ride.

Reki scowled. ‘Stop calling me boy. I’m older than you.’

‘Yet so much smaller.’ Nachal wedged her warrior’s bulk past him. She’d donned extra furs against the chill of the caves, but her bare arms glistened in the glow cast by the blade. ‘Fetch your damned magic sword and let’s get our carcasses out of here.’

Reki followed, nervous now the moment had come. The sword would bring great power to he who wielded it. So his master’s books claimed.

His fingers tingled with magic. The spell he’d bought in the souk at Yahdiz was weak, but there were ways to strengthen it. He slipped the dagger he’d stolen from his master out of its hidden sheath. Hiding the weapon from Nachal in the weeks since he’d hired her in Yahdiz was easy. Brawn over brains — she’d come cheap for a mercenary.

Nachal bent to examine the sword. Reki raised the rune-covered dagger and rammed it into her neck. Blood spurted over rock and steel. Nachal staggered and collapsed.

‘Thank you,’ she gasped. She died quickly.

Reki barely noted her words as the sword brightened. He wrapped his blood and magic tainted fingers around the pommel and pulled. At first, nothing. Then it slipped free. The remnants of Nachal’s spilt blood seeped into the blade. Reki glanced at her body. He’d never killed anyone before.

He retrieved the dagger from the warrior’s neck with a tinge of regret as the magic faded.

He hurried back down the passageway. Grunting cries echoed ahead.

Orcs!

A voice came from the sword. ‘I could help you, boy, but…’

Reki almost dropped the blade. ‘Nachal?’

Nachal sighed. ‘Why d’you think it’s called the Blade of Souls, boy? There’s at least five of us in here.’

‘How?’

‘Hardly the time for questions.’ A second voice. Deep. Male.

‘Who..?’

‘I am Arak. Demon Slayer. Bane of…’ There was a muffled grunt from within the blade, as though Arak had been elbowed in the ribs. ‘Husband of Nachal, Lioness of Yahdiz,’ the voice finished lamely.

The orc howls increased.

‘You have reunited us with blood and magic,’ Arak’s voice boomed. ‘I may have cause to curse you one day…’ another muffled grunt. ‘But I will aid you now, boy.’

The blade in Reki’s hand pulled him towards the sounds of the orc horde. Reki whimpered, closed his eyes. The sword whirled him like a dervish; into the air, across caverns, along passageways, accompanied by the screams of dying orcs.