To Green Angel Tower, Volume 2 Read Online Free PDF Page B

bottom of the tent wall.

    “We don’t need any more damnable questions,” Isgrimnur grumbled. “We have enough to last three lifetimes. What we need are answers.”
    Binabik made an uncomfortable gesture. “I am agreeing with you, Duke Isgrimnur. But answers are not like a sheep that is coming when a person calls.”
    Josua sighed and leaned back against the wall of Isgrimnur’s tent. Outside, the wind rose for a moment, moaning faintly as it vibrated the tent ropes. “I know how difficult it is, Binabik. But Isgrimnur is right—we need answers. The things you told us about this Conqueror Star have only added to the confusion. What we need to know is how to use the three Great Swords. All that the star tells us—if you are right—is that our time to wield them is running out.”
    “That is what we are giving the largest attention to, Prince Josua,” said the troll. “And we think we may perhaps be learning something soon, for Strangyeard has found something that is of importantness.”
    “What is that?” Josua asked, leaning forward.‘ “Anything, man, anything would be heartening: ’
    Father Strangyeard, who had been sitting quietly, squirmed a little. “I am not as sure as Binabik, Highness, that it is of any use. I found the first of it some time ago, while we were still traveling to Sesuad‘ra.”
    “Strangyeard was finding a passage that is written in Morgenes’ book,” Binabik amplified, “something about the three swords that are so much concerning us.”
    “And?” Isgrimnur tapped his fingers on his muddy knee. He had spent a long time trying to secure his tentstakes in the loose, damp ground.
    “What Morgenes seems to suggest,” the archivist said, “is that what makes the three swords special—no, more than special, powerful —is that they are not of Osten Ard. Each of them, in some way, goes against the laws of God and Nature.”
    “How so?” The prince was listening intently. Isgrimnur saw a little ruefully that these sorts of inquiries would always interest Josua more than the less exotic business of being a ruler, such as grain prices and taxes and the laws of freeholding.
    Strangyeard was hesitant. “Geloë could explain better than I. She knows more of these things.”
    “She should have been coming here by now,” Binabik said. “I wonder if we should be waiting for her.”
    “Tell me what you can,” said Josua. “It has been a very long day and I am growing weary. Also, my wife is ill and I do not like being away from her.”
    “Of course, Prince Josua. I’m sorry. Of course.” Strangyeard gathered himself. “Morgenes tells that there is something in each sword that is not of Osten Ard—not of our earth. Thorn is made from a stone that fell from the sky. Bright-Nail, which was once Minneyar, was forged from the iron keel of Elvrit’s ship that came over the sea from the West. Those are lands that our ships can no longer find.” He cleared his throat. “And Sorrow is of both iron and the Sithi witchwood, two things that are inimical. The witchwood itself, Aditu tells me, came over as seedlings from the place that her people call the Garden. None of these things should be here, and also, none of them should be workable ... except perhaps the pure iron of Elvrit’s keel.”
    “So how were these swords made, then?” asked Josua. “Or is that the answer you still seek?”
    “There is something that Morgenes is mentioning,” Binabik offered. “It is also written in one of Ookekuq’s scrolls. It is called a Word of Making—a magic spell is what we might be naming it, although those who are knowing the Art do not use those words.”
    “A Word of Making?” Isgrimnur frowned. “Just a word?”
    “Yes ... and no,” Strangyeard said unhappily. “In truth, we are not sure. But Minneyar we know was made by the dwarrows—the dvernings as you would call them in your own tongue, Duke Isgrimnur—and Sorrow was made by Ineluki in the dwarrow forges beneath