A. Searle: The King's sword

“Yes, you are.” Ula was weeping. When he looked at her again, her face had changed. It was the face of his mother staring back at him, her blue eyes pleading for him to listen to her.

“Don’t let me die, Ronan. Save me. If you don’t they will kill us all!”

Thestian rushed forward but Ronan suddenly turned, sorrow and rage pumping through his veins. A blast of white light filled the room around them, pushing the darkness back, and Thestian’s face twisted with pain.

“Yes, Ronan. Save me.”

Ronan brought the sword up and drove it into Thestian’s chest. For a moment Thestian stared back at him, then blinked and looked down at the blade.

“That’s right you maniacal bastard. It’s not the King’s Sword.”

“Fool. You can not kill me with simple weapons,” Thestian hissed.

Knowing that he had to act quickly, Ronan drove every ounce of power he could summon into blade. Thestian twisted and writhed, screaming out.

“No but I can cause you pain.” Ronan shoved the sword deeper, using it as a channel for the current of emotion that had transformed into magic. SleaganSleagan threw his head back and howled. It was sound that thundered through the castle and caused those watching to shrink back.

Ronan could feel Thestian fighting against his magic but he was failing. Like the River Blanch, he began to still. Finally he ceased the struggle between their magic and thrust himself back and off of the sword’s blade. And then he was gone, taking the darkness with him.

Silence followed as Ronan felt himself falling. “Ula.” Right before he drifted into darkness, he felt her wrinkled hands catch his head.

“Ronan?” Ula’s voice parted the thick darkness and Ronan opened his eyes to stare up at her wrinkled face.

“That was a cruel trick, witch,” Ronan whispered weakly and Ula nodded, lifting her hand to caress his face.

“But it worked. I knew if I affected you deeply enough, your power would take over and do what needed to be done.” Ula pressed her lips to his temple. “But you are right. It was cruel and I hated doing it.”

“I’m glad you did.” Ronan closed his eyes and then opened them again. “I’m so weary.”

“I know,” Ula soothed, stroking his head as if he were just a child. “But you drove Sleagan away from Merisgale.”

“Yes. Not as stupid as he thought, was I?” Ronan opened his eyes again and despite the pounding in his head and the ache in his body, he forced himself to sit up.

“King Culley!” The small crowd of onlookers cheered and Ronan’s eyes swung to those around them. He raised his hands, shaking his head.

“I’m no King,” he called out, silencing all. “I’m a blacksmith.”

“But we all heard Robusk name you,” one of the wizards argued. “And you chased away SleaganSleagan with the King’s Sword.”

“No.” Ronan reached down and picked up the sword. “I used an old one from the Chamber of Swords. I’m not the real king. Robusk and I only made Thestian think I was the newly named King. The Sword then became a threat to him.”

The wizard seemed to think over the explanation. “Then who is King?”

“Not me. I’m just a blacksmith.” Ronan heard Ula grunt a chuckle. “Perhaps now would be a good time to send a party out to search for Robusk. He is locked in a windowless cell and is suffering from starvation. He is very weak but I think he has the strength to remain alive until you can locate him. Surely, the council have ways to find a fellow wizard without breaking the wizard’s code.”

The wizard smiled and nodded. “We do.” He turned motioning for the other wizards to go with him.

“Fiona,” Ronan whispered and looked down at Ula. “Can you save her?”

“I cannot but I know of some who can,” Ula answered. “Yarro’s wife told me that only they knew the secret of saving someone from death of the poison. She will have to be taken to the Johran immediately.”

Ronan smiled as Bryan carried her forward and glanced at the window. “Monty?” Monty’s head bobbed into view. The people crowding the corridor gasped and moved back at the dragon’s appearance.

“Give her to me.” Monty reached inside the window and plucked the woman from Bryan’s arms. Then he was gone, flying Fiona back to Ronan’s people.

“I’m ready to go home,” Keegan declared. “I’m getting too old for this much drama.”

Ronan chuckled. “So am I, but there are a few more things that must be done before I can leave Merisgale.” Ronan glanced at Bryan. “I must speak on behalf of the centaurs and ask Robusk for a river.”

“I have a feeling you won’t have any problem getting what you ask for.” Ula smiled.

“I’d better not.” Ronan grunted, looking down at Mikel the Hort. “You were very brave, little friend.”

Mikel beamed and slanted a gaze at Keegan. “Don’t you feel like a big fool? I know you thought I was the one who was betraying wizard Ronan.” Mikel sniffed. “But I would not. He is the only person I’ve ever known who trusted me.”

“Not the only one,” Ronan corrected. “Bryan here came to your defense when you were not present to do so.”

Mikel’s smile widened and the centaur lifted him and set him gently on his back. “So what’s next?” Mikel asked and the rest groaned loudly.

What was next? Ronan thought of the long journey he’d taken. Did he return to his cottage? Could he, after all he’d learned? His thoughts moved to the Johran. They were his people now. Yarro, his brother. Yarro’s wife would heal Fiona, keep her safe until she was strong enough to return to her own people.

He took a calming breath, dragged it deep into his chest, then released it slowly. Whatever came next, he could face it. He was stronger than he’d been before. He was The Stone Wizard Ronan.