The Sword Bearer by John White

Author:John White [White, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: children's, Christian, fantasy, inspirational, S&S
Amazon: B006QRDUR6
Publisher: IVP Books
Published: 2011-06-27T07:00:00+00:00

15

* * *

The Hideous

Head

They camped that night on the shore of Lake Nachash. The goblins were nowhere to be seen. With the coming of Aguila and the fireflies, peace reigned among the company. But there were no songs and dancing that night

Instead plans were laid. Mab and King Bjorn agreed that the disappearance of the goblins meant they were gathering reinforcements and organizing for an attack. "Which also means," Mab said, "that they will attack in overwhelming numbers. We will have little hope of throwing them off. But they're unlikely to come for some hours, and we may be on our way again before they do. We must post sentries, sleep on the shore itself, and be ready to board the rafts, cast off and leave at a moment's notice."

"Why don't we leave now?" John asked.

"We need paddles, Sword Bearer," King Bjorn replied. "We cannot pole rafts across a deep lake. It will take a good deal of the night to carve paddles."

"What's more," Mab added, "we must first find out whether the forces of the Mystery are back on the island, and whether the lake is patrolled. As soon as we've enough paddles, one raft will go ahead to scout"

They felt the tension again as the table was removed and the comforting canopy of fireflies left them. Instead of sleeping on the beach, Mab and John retired to a Gaal tree ten yards from the shoreline. Mab's last words as they retired were, "If anything happens, don't wait for me. Don't wait for anyone or anything. Make for the rafts!"

John found his bed uncomfortable. He itched and wriggled. At times he tossed the covers aside because he was hot only to shiver five minutes later and pull them back across him. Whenever he closed his eyes he would see hideous goblin faces. And whenever he opened his eyes they felt as though they had been rubbed with sandpaper.

His mind went back over the strange events that had occurred since his thirteenth birthday. He found himself imagining a walk along Ellor Street with old Mr. Leadbetter, the lamplighter. But soon the memory of how he discovered his dead grandmother came back, and so he pushed it out of his mind.

He tried to do the same with the memory of Old Nick, but that was more difficult. Who was Old Nick? What was Old Nick? How could he inhabit two worlds and be the same person? Would he, John, really kill him? He thought of his useless sword and was filled with humiliation and bitterness. Everything that had happened in the strange country of Anthropos had been unsatisfactory—his capture by Bildreth and Gutreth, the strange experience in the cave, the trial in the glade, the horrible murder of Vixenia's mate and cubs, his own refusal to drink the wine of free pardon. Finally there was his failure to attack Nicholas Slapfoot in the cave and his discovery of the uselessness of his sword.

He could almost taste bitterness in his mouth. "Sword Bearer," he muttered in disgust.

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