Brian Anderson - The Sword of Truth

“You’re welcome,” Lee called after her.

Lee finished dressing Gewey’s wounds and pulled him close to the still-burning fire.

“What now?” asked Gewey, his wounds beginning to throb.

Lee was staring at the fire. “Now we have to risk going into town,” he said. “If you were human, I’d say we’ll sit here until you die; but thankfully, as a God, you’ll heal-one of the advantages, I suppose.”

Gewey tried to laugh, but the pain in his chest stopped him. “Couldn’t we just wait here until I heal?”

Lee shook his head. “No. We need medicine and clean bandages. You may heal on your own, but without proper treatment, it could take months instead of weeks. Besides, our provisions won’t be enough to last that long. Eventually, we’ll run out of food and have to go into town anyway.”

Gewey felt guilty. If only he had known how to fight, they wouldn’t be in this mess. “Once I’m better, I want you to teach me the sword.”

“Believe me,” Lee replied, “you’ll learn to fight. I’ll see to that.”

“I never want this to happen to me again,” Gewey declared. “I want to be able to fight my own battles. I want to be more like you.”

Lee cocked his head and smiled. “You’ll be far better than I. Actually, I was impressed with how well you did this time.”

Gewey looked shocked. “What are you talking about? I was nearly killed.”

“Maybe, but you managed to fight an armed bandit alone and with no training. And let’s not forget, you saved the life of that elf.”

Gewey shrugged. “Why did she run off? We meant her no harm.”

“Elves are a strange lot,” Lee replied. “Not much is known about them. They tend to keep to themselves. I know they don’t like humans.”

“Why don’t they like humans?” asked Gewey, trying to keep his mind off the pain.

“Five hundred years ago, man and elf lived in peace.” Lee began. “They more or less stayed out of each other’s way. That is, until King Luthon IV, of Maltona, desecrated their most sacred temple. He was a greedy, selfish ruler. He’d made war on his neighbors for so long that he bankrupted his nation. The Temple of the Four Winds-the seat of elfish spiritual power-rested on the border of his kingdom, and was rumored to hold vast treasures. For hundreds of years humans had left the Temple in the elves’ control, but Luthon decided to break tradition and claim it for himself. This, of course, sent the elves into a frenzy.

“At first, the war was contained in Maltona, but as the elves closed in, Luthon convinced neighboring kingdoms that the elves wouldn’t stop once Maltona fell. Thus, the Great War between elf and man began. For twenty years it spread and raged, leaving the landscape in ruin. Eventually, both sides came to an uneasy truce and agreed to keep to their own lands, never to have dealings with one another again.”

“So man started it?” Gewey asked. “No wonder they hate us.”

“Yes, but that wasn’t the end of it,” Lee continued. “The war split the elven nations apart. Many didn’t want the truce, and they began raiding human villages. They slaughtered entire families, burning everything in sight. The other elven tribes, fearing a second war with man, turned on their own kin. For ten more years there was civil war, leaving the elves a scattered, broken people. After that, they receded into the shadows. Few have seen them since, and fewer still know much about them.”

Gewey pictured the elf woman in his mind-how proud and defiant she seemed, and how beautiful. He couldn’t imagine such a war.

“I’ve spoken too much,” said Lee. “You should rest. There’s a village ten miles from here, and I need to scout it before we go. You’ll have to wait here until I return.”

Gewey was already drifting off. “I’ll be fine,” he said sleepily. “But before you go, tell me one more thing. Why were you willing to leave her to die?”

“You have to understand, Gewey,” Lee replied. “The story I told you is from long ago, and there aren’t many who still know the tale. Men choose to forget the war, convincing themselves that the elves’ hatred of them is uncalled for, returning hate with more hate. Dealings with elves are dangerous at best. Their loathing runs deep, and their cunning is formidable. They live about five times longer than an average man, so there are elves still walking the earth that can remember what the war did to their people. They’ve become poisoned by their own memory, and in turn, they poison the minds of their children. They’re not the people they once were. Believe me when I tell you, releasing that elf has put us in more danger than we were in already. I’m still not sure she won’t come back and try to kill us.”

“But we saved her,” said Gewey. “Why would she want to kill us?”

“You’re human to her eyes,” Lee answered grimly. “And that’s reason enough. Now, you need to sleep.”

Gewey obeyed and let himself drift off. The face of the elf woman haunted his dreams.

The next morning, Gewey awoke to find that Lee had already left, but not before he’d taken the time to leave wafers and dried meat at Gewey’s bedside, along with his sword. His wounds still throbbed, but Gewey managed to sit up and eat. After he finished, he got to his feet and walked around for a bit. His legs felt weak at first, but the more he walked, the stronger he felt. After a while, he became bored and decided to try to take a nap.

As Gewey lay there, he listened to the sounds of the forest. At first, he only heard what anyone would hear, but as his mind stilled, he was able to take in more and more. It was subtle at first-the sound of a robin making its nest, then the rustling of a grass snake slithering through the brush. It grew and grew, until he felt as if he could hear the very growing of the trees. Though everything around him lived and breathed, it did not feel chaotic; instead, it was like a chorus of life in perfect harmony. He laid there for hours listening to the music of the forest, until he heard the sound of footsteps approaching in the distance.

He got up and grabbed his sword, wincing in pain. A few minutes later Lee arrived, frowning.

“Why are you on your feet?” he scolded.

Gewey told him what he had experienced.

“That’s very good,” said Lee. “But you need to rest for a bit longer. I don’t want you to reopen your wounds.” Lee instructed Gewey to take off his shirt so that he could check his bandages. As he removed the dressings, Lee stared in disbelief.

“And I thought I healed fast!” Lee said in amazement. “Your wounds have closed. It will still take some time for you to heal completely, but I think we’ll be able to move on sooner than I thought.”

Gewey was pleased. “I do feel much better. In fact, I think I’m ready to leave now.”

“Not so fast,” Lee advised. “I’ve secured a room at an inn, and we’re not expected until nightfall tomorrow. We’ll risk one more day here and move on in the afternoon. It’s ten miles to the village of Gath, so you’ll need to gather your strength.”

“If you say so,” Gewey sighed. “What do we do in the mean time?”

Lee grinned. “I suggest you lay back down and listen to the forest. It’s good practice.”

Gewey grumbled with discontent. He hated being idle; years of farm work had driven the laziness right out of him. At first, he kept insisting that he was well enough to travel, but Lee wouldn’t budge.

Finally, after much argument, Gewey gave in and spent the rest of the day listening to the forest as he was told.

It seemed he laid there forever before it was time to leave. Gewey spent most of the night and next morning staring at the trees. Lee had given him an herbal tea to help him sleep, but it only made him light-headed and dizzy. Lee insisted that Gewey continue to rest while he packed. When he was done, he checked Gewey’s bandages once more and tossed him a fine linen shirt and expensive riding trousers.