The Sword Thief

Let's high jack a horse!

Matilda's P.O.V.

The room I'm in has no resemblance to the rest of the house. It's dingy and dark yet there's no dust. As if Krista comes to this room often. I let my eyes travel the distance of the books lined up against the wall. There is a desk in the middle with some ink and paper, and it looks as if someone has been writing in a journal. I read the first entry.

Finding the sword has proven harder than I thought it would…

What sword? Why was Krista looking for a sword when she's obviously the best archer in a ninety-mile radius of this place?

Looking to my left I find an old ratty book, the pages worn by the many readers before Krista. I read the first line.

Whoever wields the sword of Balthazar becomes ruler of these lands.

Hmm? That sounded interesting! Finally a way to get out of being Queen! I continue reading on.

When the time comes the sword of Balthazar will chose a new ruler for the kingdom of Mayand.

 Lame.

The book went on to describe what the swords sheath looked like. At first sight it would take on the appearance as a normal well used sword. But as the rightful wielder of the sword matured, its appearance would change in their eyes, and their eyes-only. In the end the sword would be stunning in all the ways a weapon could be. Only royalty and the chosen king will be able to recognize the swords potential power. And the Royals will do anything in their power to get rid of it.

I snorted. Foreal?

I skim over the rest of the pages, skipping chunks of information. The rest of the book seems pretty legitimate so I decide I might as well find this mysterious sword if I want to rid myself of this Queen title. Just as I'm finishing up my little discovery Krista walks in.

“What are you doing?” she asks glaring at me.

 “Chill Krista, I can’t believe you never showed me this room? I mean seriously, it’s beyond amazing!” I say giddy with my new discovery.

“Maybe it wasn’t meant to be found,” she growls.

“What’s got your tights in a bunch?” I yawn feeling more than ready to go home.

“Just stay out of here,” she says closing up the wall.

“Okay…” I reply. Surprised at her sudden change of mood.

“Okay.”

Garrett's P.O.V. 

            The town that once seemed so eager to keep me from going to prison, suddenly seems fervent to see me behind bars. The only good bye I got was from Eliza, and even she seemed a little hesitant to hug me.

            I hear the thud of hooves a couple miles away and look up to see a covered wagon in the distance. Shaking the past events out of my head, I walk up to the prison guard who is going to escort me to the dungeon.

“Were making a few stops around the surrounding villages, to pick up some other guys, so sit tight and enjoy the ride kid.” He says roping my hands together and shoving me into the wagon.

It’s dark by the time we finish picking up all the delinquents and arrive in the mainland. I’m guessing we we’re in a bad part of the land, because this place looks crummier than my village. Stepping out of the wagon I get into line with the other prisoners. We all have our hands tied, and there’s a long rope that’s connecting each of our ankles together. We walk a few miles to get to the prison cells, and along the way I steal a couple trinkets. None of which I really wanted, but if I’m going to be locked up for a while, might as well have a little fun.