Page 5 of Swordheart #1

“Oh gods, it’s Aunt Malva.” Halla looked around wildly. “Hide! You have to hide!”

Sarkis drew himself up to his full height. “I’ll not hide from—”

“I will get in serious trouble if there’s a strange man in my room!” Halla looked around frantically. Could he fit under the bed?

“Oh. A question of honor. Of course. Forgive me.” The servant of the sword bowed his head. “Sheathe the sword.”

“What?”

“Sheathe the sword.”

“Halla, do you have someone in there?” She could hear Malva fumbling with the lock.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Aunt Malva!” shouted Halla. “I couldn’t possibly!” She snatched up the sheath and tried to jam the sword back in, missed the opening twice, then got it the third time.

Blue light writhed over Sarkis’s skin, and then he was gone. The cross guard clicked against the mouth of the scabbard. She dropped it to the floor and shoved it hastily under the bed with her foot.

Aunt Malva finally got the door unlocked and pushed it open. “What are you…”

Halla blinked at her innocently.

The woman’s eyes narrowed and she scanned the room as intently as Sarkis had done earlier. Threats to my life, threats to my virtue … Halla had gone for years without anyone worrying about people hiding in her room, and here she was dealing with it twice in one night.

It’s not like I make a habit of hiding people in my room. I don’t know why everyone is so suspicious all of a sudden.

“I heard voices,” said Malva.

“I was praying for Silas’s soul,” said Halla.

Aunt Malva’s eyes narrowed even further. “I heard a man’s voice.”

“Maybe it was a god answering.”

Malva snorted loudly. “Don’t be smart with me, girl.”

“I am thirty-six,” growled Halla. “I am not a girl!”

“So you should be well aware of what duty you owe the family! And well past dithering like a maiden when you’re offered a chance at a respectable marriage.

” She drew herself up and looked down her powdered nose.

“You’ve no beauty and no prospects. And only a year or two left where you might bear children. Don’t be a fool.”

“I’ve not the least desire in the world to bear children,” said Halla. “And certainly not Alver’s!”

“Alver will be a fine husband and a fine father!”

“So bed him yourself, if you’re so keen on it!”

Aunt Malva inhaled as if she’d been struck.

“You’re out of your head with grief,” she announced. “I’ll not listen to such talk. Tomorrow we’ll have a family meeting and you’ll keep a civil tongue in your head and remember what you owe a family that took you in instead of casting you out on the street.”

Halla could think of so many things to say in response that she choked.

Silas had taken her in, not their precious family.

Malva had treated her like a drudge whenever she came to visit, which she did as rarely as possible.

And they’d never cared much for her husband when he was alive, only to turn him into a saint after his death.

“I—you—how dare— ”

Aunt Malva slammed the door. The lock clicked again.

Halla stood with her chest heaving, clutching one of the bedposts for strength. How dare that powdered old monster talk to her about gratitude? How dare they … how dare she …

“What an unpleasant woman,” Sarkis said, from under the bed.

Halla yelped and went down to her knees. He lay flat under the bed, wearing a resigned expression.

“I thought you went back in the sword!”

“I did. Unfortunately, I came loose when you kicked the scabbard under the bed.” He crawled free. “I didn’t think that my presence would contribute much to the conversation, though.”

He rose and handed her the sword, still several inches out of the sheath.

“Well, now you see why I have to kill myself,” said Halla.

His eyebrows slammed together over his nose. He had a broad nose and a scar cut through one eyebrow, which gave him a singularly wicked look when he scowled. “I see no such thing!”

Halla groaned. “Look. My husband died years ago. His great-uncle Silas took me in. Silas left me everything in his will, like an idiot. His family wants that money, so now they plan to have me marry my husband’s cousin Alver, which will keep it in the family.”

“Which I gather does not please you, lady.”

“Alver wouldn’t please anyone. He’s got clammy hands.”

“The great god save us.” Sarkis raised his eyes, presumably to heaven. “Death is too good for such a creature.”

Halla was fairly sure that he was making fun of her.

“You’re missing the point! Once I’m married to Alver, my life won’t be worth a penny anyway.

They’ll kill me off so that Alver can marry someone younger and get heirs.

But if I die now, before I get married, it will all go to my mother’s family.

I’ve got a will with the town clerk that says so. ”

“Where is your family?” Sarkis growled, his voice dropping an octave. “Why are your kinsmen not saving you from these grasping maggots?”

She sighed. “They’re poor.”

“Poverty’s no shame, lady, compared to abandoning kin to these jackals.”

“Yes, but… well, after my husband died, I didn’t want to burden them. They didn’t need another mouth to feed. And then my sister died and now it’s only my nieces, you understand, and… well…”

“What of your father’s kin?”

Halla shrugged. “I don’t expect a lot of help from that quarter.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t know who they are?”

Understanding dawned in Sarkis’s eyes and he looked down hurriedly. “Apologies, lady.”

“It’s fine. It was Great-Uncle Silas who took me in.

” She sat down on the bed. “And really, Silas wasn’t that wealthy.

But it would be enough, if the clerks could get it to my nieces, that it would help.

They’d have dowries. Good ones. They could marry who they wanted instead of who agreed to take them. ”

Sarkis folded his arms. His upper arms were bare and tattooed in dark blue. He wore leather forearm guards and leather gauntlets. He scowled again. “You’ve no male kin to ride to your aid?”

Halla snorted. “My niece Erris would ride to my aid in a heartbeat, if she could afford a horse, and if I had any way to get a message to her.”

She expected some kind of sarcastic rejoinder to that, but Sarkis nodded. “A strong shieldmaid is the equal of any man in combat. Certainly equal to an old woman and a man with clammy hands. Have these jackals any guardsmen in their train?”

“I think you’re missing a critical point here,” said Halla, rub bing her face. “I mean, yes, they’ve got one. Malva won’t travel without a guard in case of brigands. His name’s Roderick.”

“Will Lady Erris be able to dispatch this Roderick?”

“I—no, we’re not—” She set the sword across her knees and put her head in her hands.

My great-uncle died three days ago. His wretched family descended on me a week ago. I vowed to kill myself this morning. And I have just drawn a magic sword with a man inside and now I am discussing whether my fifteen-year-old niece can slaughter Aunt Malva’s guardsman.

What in the name of all the gods is going on?

“She’s fifteen,” said Halla, since Sarkis seemed to be waiting for an answer.

Sarkis frowned. “How much sword training has she had?”

“She’s a farmer! She’s a very fierce farmer, but she can’t—Roderick’s an ex-mercenary. I mean, I don’t know anything about how he fights. Just that I have to warn the servant girls before they come to visit, because he’s got wandering hands.”

“Oh,” said Sarkis, his lips thinning with disgust. “One of those men. Your niece will do the world a favor removing him.”

“My niece is a farmer! And she isn’t here. ”

“I will undertake her training, then,” said Sarkis, nodding as if something important had been decided.

“Fine! I’ll write a note saying that the sword goes to her! Then can you please kill me so she has a chance to inherit you?”

“Most certainly not!” He looked deeply offended. Halla dug her fingers into her scalp in frustration.

“Then Alver’s going to marry me and when his wretched aunt kills me off, he’ll be your next owner!”

“I shall not be wielded by a man with clammy hands!”

“Keep your voice down!”

“Oh. Of course. Apologies, my lady.” He lowered his voice. “I will not allow you to kill yourself, however. Certainly not with my blade!”

“Oh!” Halla had a sudden thought. “Would you feel it? I mean, if I did that on your sword? Would it hurt?”

“It would hurt you. ”

“Well, obviously. But I mean, would you be able to tell it had happened?”

“You would have to draw the sword in order to kill yourself on it. I would be standing right here. I believe that I would notice, yes.”

“Arrgh.” She wrung her hands.

“And you are my wielder,” said Sarkis. “I am bound to protect you. If I tried to kill you, I would be forced to leap between your neck and my own blade.”

“That sounds awkward.”

“I do not think it would go well, no.”

“And if I killed myself?”

“I would try to take the blow myself. I have no choice.”

This was getting worse and worse. Halla groaned. “Do you have any better ideas? Other than my fifteen-year-old niece somehow staging a rescue that she doesn’t know anything about?”

Sarkis frowned and leaned against the bedpost. “Clearly you must drive these ruffians from your home and then alert her.”

“Drive them from my home?” Halla almost choked at the impossibility of it all. “They wouldn’t go! Nobody thinks it’s really my home, no matter what the clerks say! I’m locked in my own room!”

He inhaled sharply. “You are a prisoner here?”

“Yes! I’ve been locked in here for three days!”

This seemed to change everything. The servant of the sword was abruptly all business. “We cannot wait on the honor of your kinswoman, it seems.”

“… my fifteen-year-old kinswoman…”

“Pack for a journey. I will allow no one under my protection to be held prisoner, even by their marriage kin.”

“Wait, it’s all right if they’re not locking the door, but since they are, now we’ll leave?”

He looked at her as if she were daft. “Yes.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Clearly.”

She put her hands on her hips. Sarkis sighed. “It would be extremely rude to interfere with your kinswoman’s efforts to rescue you. An insult to their honor. But as you are clearly in immediate and present danger, we cannot afford to wait. We must leave this place at once.”

“Where are we going?”

“Away from here.”