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Draven’s face was grim. “She said such objects were too powerful to be trusted to mortals or fae. That they would cause more trouble than it was worth, essentially. I believe ‘endless war’ was the term she uses in most passages. Well, her brother Perun was angry that she had dared to interfere. He raised his sword high over his head, as if intending to strike his sister with it. Zorya cried out and the heavens cracked as Perun’s sword split it open.” He looked around at them. “Surely you’ve heard this story before.”
Lancelet and I shook our heads.
“Not this version,” Vesper said, with an intrigued expression. “Only the one with Vela.”
Draven nodded. “The fae have their own version of the story. But the basics are the same. The gods–whether Zorya or Vela–made the sword, the spear, and the grail.”
“But what happened when Perun split the sky?” I asked.
“Dark creatures came through. Beings not of Aercanum. And so we have things like trolls and harpies and the like,” Draven explained.
“And worse,” Vesper said.
A dark look came over Draven’s face. “True enough,” was all he said.
I had no desire right then to think about what the two men might consider “worse.”
“So what does the sword do?” I asked persistently.“It still doesn’t sound very real to me. A sword supposedly created by the gods...” I respected the temple, perhaps even more than I had realized. And with that came respect for the Three. But it was tradition, part of our culture. Not something I truly believed. If someone were to ask me whether Zorya was actuallyrealor not? Well, I’d probably have had to say no.
“We know it’s real because it was wielded less than two centuries ago in a battle fought by the fae,” Draven explained, his face set in a stubborn expression. “A fae queen rode into battle carrying it. Numerous ancient texts say so. And there are stories of it being carried by others before that.”
“‘Less than two centuries ago’? And you think that’s reliable evidence that it still exists? That it hasn’t been lost? And what’s so special about it even if it does exist?” I heard my voice, cranky and tired. I was losing patience.
“Perun fought Vela with this sword. In some versions, he won. In others, she did. But regardless, this sword carries the power of the gods,” Draven answered.
I was speechless. In truth, I was shocked that he was displaying this much expected devotion and belief in mystical beings. I had not expected it.
“Whatever that might be,” Lancelet said cryptically.
“Well, obviously not something we want Arthur to have, whatever it is,” I muttered.
I narrowed my eyes at Draven. Just because I didn’t want Arthur to have this unimaginably powerful weapon didn’t mean I thought he should have it either. He must have understood what my look meant, for he grimaced and looked away.
“It’s late,” Vesper said softly, getting to his feet. He crossed over and reached down to grasp my hand and pull me gently to my feet. “This night has gone on long enough. You need rest. We all do.”
He let go of my hand and started to walk away from the fire, then paused, his golden eyes honing in on mine. “But wherever you’re going, whether this sword you’re all speaking of exists or not, you have my blade. You have my strength. They are yours, Morgan. Know that.”
The way he said my name sent a chill through me. He knew. And perhaps he even understood. It was more than I had hoped for. He did not sound angry, simply tired.
He strode away before I could respond. My mouth hung open. I could feel Draven and Lancelet’s eyes on me.
Vesper’s words had sounded like a vow. The kind a knight gave his king.
Or his queen.
I started to help Lancelet set up the tent she had brought near mine, until Draven told me to stop before I ripped my bandages open and helped her instead. Her tent was larger than my own so she suggested we share it. I was too tired to disagree. Besides, I decided, some female company would be a nice change.
Fetching my bedroll, I crawled in and lay down beside her, sleepily watching as she folded her clothes.
I thought of Vesper. In the space of a night, I’d become someone else entirely. And yet he didn’t seem particularly shocked.
Perhaps all it meant was that I wasn’t a very good liar. After all, Vesper was clearly more worldly-wise than me. When I had claimed to be Draven’s apprentice, maybe he’d known I was lying, right from the start. After all, as he’d pointed out to Draven, who took an apprentice into Valtain to train?
Who took a spurned princess from Pendrath into Miridmiun for that matter?
Lancelet finished putting her things away and slipped into her bedroll. I turned onto my side to look at her.
“I didn’t thank you for bringing back Haya,” I said quietly. “And I didn’t tell you how glad I am that you’re here. I’ve missed you.”
