Blade of Erogrund

Chapter Eight- Taste of Truth

Ennor cursed vehemently. He stepped back from Godric while his muscular, scarred arm drew his giant sword and stabbed its tip deep into the ground as his other arm flexed in anger.

Thain's mouth gaped open, his wide throat visible even amid his dense beard despite the distance at which they stood apart. His eyes were wide spheres that starred blankly out of the slots of his dark, intricate helmet. 

Sarah was equally speechless, her hand going again to cover her wide-open mouth.

What's wrong?  Godric wondered. What's the deal with this sword?  Countless thoughts flew threw his mind like arrows from an army of bows, but all were interrupted when Ennor turned back to him and slammed his arm into the boy's chest. The force drove out his breath like a hammer, causing him to sputter.

"Hellfire you!" Ennor yelled.

Mira screamed, but nobody had the courage to stop the infuriated warrior. The man clenched his teeth in outrage. His toned forearm shoved the boy against the jagged stone, but he turned away and covered his face with one of his hands.

Thoroughly bewildered, Godric warily looked up at Ennor. It took a moment for him to build the courage to speak. Finally he asked the question that ate at his mind.

"What happened? What did I do? It's just a sword!"

Ennor gave him a withering glare that caused him to flinch, but the warrior just stalked away silently, out of sight behind the piles of rubble.

Godric felt Mira's hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her still terrified face, taking her offered hand and stood up. She gave him a small hug and pulled away quickly.

"Godric, that's not 'just a sword'," She murmured, gesturing to the book that she had carried for the last several days. Its cover was worse for wear - several edges were torn and scorched - but the title was still legible. "Erogrund, if that's what the sword really is, was Ecthion's. Legend says that it slew hundreds, if not thousands of Dragons. It's the greatest weapon ever to be seen or song of."

The weight of this information sunk in, but it was hard to process in light of all the events that seemed to fly through his mind.

Thain's voice broke his thoughts. "The lass is right, son." The stocky warrior walked toward them. His eyes had changed from blank to a mixture of reluctance and anger. "That is no common sword. That is the last of the Elven Blades, forged many years before the Scourge of Niron before it was in the hands of Ecthion. It has no existing parallel."

Sarah reached down and picked the sword up by it pommel gingerly, as though it might spontaneously strike her. Runes flashed in the sunlight elegantly as the cold light lingered somewhere in the depths of its crystalline edge.

"Well I don't want it!" Insisted Godric. "Give it to Ennor; he seems to covet it something fierce."

Sarah shook her head morosely. "You do not understand. There is so much you do not understand."

"Then explain to me!"

Thain sighed heavily. "Too much is not known to you." He looked to Sarah and their eyes met, apparently reaching a consensus. "However, some can be explained. To begin, what do you know of Ecthion?"

Godric shrugged, but Mira answered immediately. "He was the High King of Men during the Scourge of Niron, when all the Dragons descended on Niron from the North Peaks. He fought in Ilmara with the king of the Dwarves and the Queen of the Elves; their names escape me at the moment. Erogrund was his sword. It was renown, according to legend, even before the Scourge, but he used it to slay the final Dragon and ended the destruction. Then he and his line gradually disappeared from history."