The Subtle Beauty Read Free

cloaked figure. After a long while he grasped the falchion. Idegwaed’s balance was unlike any he had ever experienced. Her guard was styled to resemble a screaming mouth. The flawless obsidian blade glinting in the firelight extended like a tongue. The grip was black pearl, bound in silver wire. The pommel bore a single ruby as counterweight. Xander swung the falchion with such ease. Never had his movement been so fluid and effortless. He felt as though Idegwaed had been forged exclusively for him. She sang as she sliced the air. Xander’s arm grew stronger, a river of power flowing through him, as though he could never be conquered so long as he kept swinging. Sylas’s dark laugh cut the moment, a cold piercing sound. He clapped slowly. “Beautiful, is she not?”
    Xander was breathless. Idegwaed was beyond compare. She was a sword men would kill for. He swallowed. Such a prize did not come free.
    Sylas’s voice was thick. “Do we have a deal?”
    Xander stared into the surrounding darkness. Oh, gods, did he want this sword! Blackthorn would never be threatened again with the likes of this blade, this extension of himself, at his command. “Name your price.”
    “Oh, really, my dear Barwn. It’s nothing you need to worry yourself over. Merely a trifle compared to what you’ll gain from Idegwaed. I can assure you that I deal quite fairly. You get what you want. I get what I want. Everyone is happy.”
    He looked at Sylas. “If I am to make a deal, then I wish to look the man in the eye of whom I’m making the deal with.”
    Sylas nodded and slipped back his hood. Sallow, spotted, green skin framed a gaunt face adorned by long, pointed ears. A blaze of flaming, orange-red hair stretched down the middle of his scalp from widow’s peak to nape. He gazed at Xander with almond-shaped, glossy black, pupil-less eyes.
    Xander had never seen such a being. He quaked inside.
    “With that blade,” Sylas pressed his webbed fingers together, forming a point with his thumbs and index, “I can guarantee all the power you seek. Nations will fall to your feet. However, I cannot guarantee the consequences.”
    Xander swallowed. “How do you mean?”
    Sylas began to pace.  "The weapons I forge have their own personalities.  Much like people, relationships with such things have lasting effects.  I will guarantee your victory, nay, I foresee it, Barwn Blackthorn, though I cannot say at what cost.  Now, do we have a deal?"
    Xander caressed the ruby on the pommel as though awakening a lover. Idegwaed seemed to hum his name pleasurably. Xander felt braver and stronger the longer he clutched her.  She assured him that the consequences would pale in comparison to the things she would do for him. Sylas foresaw his success.  It was a sure thing.  How could the Barwn of Blackthorn resist?  "You say you foresee my victory..."
    Sylas nodded.  "You need only tap Idegwaed’s power."
    Xander ran his hand against the cool flat of the blade.  Idegwaed warmed to his very touch.  "Tell me how."
    Sylas stepped beside him with a twisted smile, full of piranha-esque teeth, and placed a clammy hand on Xander’s shoulder.  "Simple.  Kill."
     
    Rhun cruised into the sunlight with Xander astride. Idegwaed, nestled in a red stag hide scabbard, swung gently at their sides. Rhun snorted and dropped his head as they crossed the River Trefnwy. Xander loosened the reins and let his feet hang free of the stirrups. The midday sun felt wondrous after so many dark hours in that dreary, cold swamp.
    Xander felt that all would be right in the world now. Archduges, Iarlls, and Tywysogion would swear fealty to him in exchange for his protection. They would gift castles and fiefdoms to his son. Life would be perfect for the first time in Xander’s family.
    They rode all day until Rhun stopped at the edge of midnight and gazed at Blackthorn. He whickered softly and pawed the earth. Xander shifted in his saddle. “What is it, lad?”
    Then he saw it, or