Dragon's Boy by Jane Yolen

Author:Jane Yolen [Yolen, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4804-2334-3
Publisher: Open Road Media

8

Day of the Sword

ALL THE WHILE ARTOS was trotting back and forth to the dragon’s cave gaining his wisdom, Magnus Pieter was fast at work on the sword. But he didn’t get it right, not at first. Each new steel had something wrong with it, and Artos refused each in turn.

“I don’t have this much trouble with Sir Ector himself, I don’t,” complained the smith, forgetting in his grousing to beat out any new jokes on the anvil.

“But the hilt doesn’t sit comfortably in my hand,” Arthur said of the first sword. That hilt, artfully shaped like two entwined serpents, was in fact much too big for him. But even if it had been smaller, he wouldn’t have wanted it. He had a horror of serpents.

“Ah, well, Sir Bedvere is needing a new blade. He snapped his last trying to beat a tree in fair combat,” said Magnus Pieter with a gruff laugh. “Snakes is just for him.”

The smith was right, of course, and so pleased with the coins Bed gave him for the sword (snakes were just the thing and Bed insisted on being called “Serpent’s Bane” by everyone for weeks), it was a month before Magnus Pieter felt the need to work on another sword, catching up instead on his horseshoeing and a special order from Lady Marion for a new candelabrum.

The second sword had a strange crossbar on it that the smith insisted would protect the hand.

“It’s my own invention!” he said, pride getting well in the way of any jokes.

Privately Artos thought the thing unbalanced, but aloud only said he wouldn’t have it.

“You are a priss,” the smith said sourly. “It’s not as if it’s to be your last sword ever.”

“But it is to be my first sword ever,” Artos answered quietly. “And you did say it was a very fine jewel.”

Magnus Pieter growled and shook his head, but as he’d already set the jewel in a sword hilt for Sir Ector and Artos knew it and Magnus Pieter knew he knew it, he couldn’t very well give the jewel back.

“Besides, you know how Cai prizes newness above all things,” Artos said, a bit of wisdom the dragon had shared with him just that week when talking about the importance of balancing the old and the new. “I would think he’d give you a gold coin to have the first sword ever made with that kind of hilt.”

Grinning, Magnus Pieter turned back to the forge. He raised his hammer and began to beat out a piece of steel, saying, “I knew (bang) and you knew (bang) that Cai loves the very new (bang) and…”

Artos made his escape quickly, still swordless. He guessed it would be more weeks yet before the smith began anew (bang). He’d probably spend the next weeks fashioning plowshares and door latches and forks and hoes.

The third sword was still bright from its tempering, with a lovely pattern running down the blade, when Lancot claimed it. Artos didn’t even have a chance to try.

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