Wednesday Excerpt, "Repercussions"

What really drew his attention was a broadsword in an ornate scabbard attached to a sash-like belt meant to go over the shoulder and rest the sword against the back. Argentoe was drawn to it and found himself pulling the gear from the sack first. He gripped the leather-wrapped handle and drew the blade. Suddenly he heard a voice in his head.

Finally, you awaken me, Master. I had slept in that scabbard so long I thought some terrible fate had befallen you. No matter. I’m just glad to feel the air against my blade again.

Argentoe was terrified to near panic. There is a voice in my head and I think it is coming from the sword I am holding. This is impossible.

What are you talking about, Master? Of course I’m talking to you. I am your sword after all. Whatever is the matter with you?

How can you be talking to me if you are a sword? And why do you keep calling me ‘Master’?

Master, I am your sword, Falconfeather. Whenever I am out of my sheath I am awake. If I am in your hand our minds are joined as one. So we can hear one another and read the other’s thoughts.

Yes; I can feel you. There were two things I felt were missing from my life. Your consciousness was one of them.

Correct, Master. The Red Sapphire is the other. Let me see. I am reading your mind now and the picture is becoming clear to me. You have almost no memory at all. It is like a blanket has been thrown over your memory with small holes every so often so bits can come through to you. That is the reason you don’t remember me or the staff with the Red Sapphire. Once you have that back, I’m sure it will clear up all this memory business.

One thing to straighten out now is your name. I have no idea who this Argentoe person is, but your name is Linvin Grithinshield. It is one of the most revered names in the entire world, so I don’t want to hear any more of this Argentoe business. Your name is Linvin. Understand?

Linvin answered, Yes. I understand. My name is Linvin Grithinshield and I am your master.

For now, my predatory senses tell me we are about to be attacked by a pack of Trogoandras. I can smell them on the air.

How wonderful. It will be like the old days. Just you and me will take on and crush all of them. Oh, what a glorious fight we will have. I can almost taste their blood on my blade. I see you remember a good deal about them. That’s excellent. It will help us in the fight. Let us prepare quickly and then talk strategy.