The Seven Swords (7 page)

Energy continued to run through Erik's body like a freight train, rising from his feet, through his legs and chest, around his head, and then back down through his arms and finally out through Gram. The weapon shook so violently that Artie couldn't understand how Erik managed to keep hold of it. Finally the blade lit up with a red glow, and a stream of light flew up and away from its tip. As the beam passed the tree, its branches shook one last time and then, all at once, it dropped all of its leaves save the highest one.

Erik stood there, panting, in a shower of copper beech leaves. The forest was quiet, as if the trees themselves were staring down in wonder.

Sami gathered himself enough to ask, “How did you do that?”

Erik looked down on the woodsman, his nervousness gone, replaced by confidence and knowledge. Artie knew that Erik had just experienced something similar to what he had when he'd finally gotten Excalibur.

Man, how Artie missed his own legendary sword. . . .

“I did it because it's mine,” Erik said, striding toward Sami. “And now I think you owe us some things,” he added.

“Erik Erikssen!” Kay exclaimed, brimming with excitement and even, she hated to admit it, a little bit of admiration. “Wow . . . just, wow.”

Erik flashed Kay the easy smile of a school-yard crush. Gram had given him confidence in many areas, and he was glad for it. Super glad.

Artie clapped Erik on the shoulder as Kay spun to Sami and said, “How do you like us now, strongman? I'll be taking this back, thank you very much!” She snatched Cleomede from the ground and sheathed it.

Artie stepped next to Kay and held out his hand. “I'll take my scabbard too, if you don't mind,” he said calmly. Sami wordlessly unbuckled the scabbard and passed it to Artie, his eyes never leaving Gram. As Artie retrieved it, a wave of relief washed through him. “I told you I wasn't lying,” he said

“I . . . I'm sorry. I'm sorry I cut you like I did. I'm sorry I doubted you.”

“Don't sweat it,” Artie said graciously.

“If I can ever make it up to you, please, let me know.”

“I doubt we'll ever be coming this way again, Sami, but if we do, you can count on it,” Kay said for Artie.

Artie glanced at Erik, who'd moved back to Barnstokk. Gram rested easily in one hand, and his other pressed against the bark of the tree. Very quietly he said, “Thank you for keeping this.”

The tree shuddered and shed its final leaf. It drifted down, cradling back and forth through the air, and landed gently on the flat of Gram's gleaming blade.

Erik turned to the others and said, “What a trip.”

“Cool, right?” Artie asked. “Getting Excalibur was a major rush for me too.”

“Yeah, it's cool,” Erik confirmed. “A little overwhelming, but cool.”

Sami's voice wavered as he said, “Did you just say ‘Excalibur'?”

“Yes, I did,” Artie said confidently. And then he asked, “You ready to go, Erik?”

Erik stared at his friend, his classmate, his neighbor. The whole experience of visiting the Otherworld—and meeting a dragon, and going berserk—had been like a dream. But now he had woken up. He understood. He might return to school one day, or he might not, but he knew that his life would never be the same. He was ready for everything. For anything. Erik nodded. “I sure am.”

Kay joined them. Before they left, Artie said, “So long, Sami of Sweden. Next time consider being nicer to strangers.”

“Okay,” Sami said weakly. Then Artie, Kay, and Erik started walking out of the camp. “But wait!” Sami called, jumping to his feet. “Who are you?”

Without turning around, Artie said, “I'm King Artie Kingfisher, and I'm no longer at your service.”

12 - IN WHICH ARTIE CROSSES PATHS WITH DRED

“Moooor-dreeeed!” Morgaine screamed over an
intercom into his room.

Man, Dred really hated hearing his mum say his name like that.

He had given Qwon the spoon that morning and now he was beginning to regret it. Not so much because he thought Qwon didn't deserve it—in truth, he kind of liked her—but because if his mum ever found out, she would probably kill him.

Literally.

So it was with heavy feet that Dred dragged himself to Morgaine's room. Dred pushed the doors to her chamber open and trudged in. He looked around and didn't see any sign of his mother.

“Mum?” he asked.

She rose like a shot from behind a stack of books and magic knickknacks littering her desk. “What took you so long?” she wailed. A scarlet-tufted jaybird flapped excitedly around her head.

“I came as soon as—”

“Come and look at this, snookums,” Morgaine interrupted. “You must see it.”

Dred approached the desk and found a messy contraption of wires and transistors and colored glass surrounding a thin sheet of sangrealite. On the sheet was a picture of a vast plain dotted with aurochs.

“Nice snap of Surmik, Mum,” Dred said, relieved that it wasn't a picture of Qwon eating porridge with her spoon.

Morgaine slapped him hard on the back of the head.

“Hey!” Dred blurted. “That hurt.”

“Look closer. Did I not raise you to pay attention?”

Dred rubbed his head and leaned forward. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary to him. But then one of the aurochs loped across the image, only to disappear into thin air!

Dred jumped back. “Is that a crossover point? One that's just been
left
open?” Dred said with a sinking feeling.

“Yes,” Morgaine said. The scarlet-tufted jaybird then landed on the table next to the picture machine. He had a small green gem affixed to the front of his neck, which Dred knew allowed him to gate around the Otherworld.

“This is Eekan,” Morgaine said. “He was attached to a dragonfly regiment on Sylvan. A
decimated
dragonfly regiment.”

The jay made a guttural click and bowed his head. His plumage, mostly dark purple and black, was streaked on the wings and crown of his head with bright red. Dred knew that Eekan was a spy.

“What happened?” Dred asked earnestly. He might have been sick of his mum, but he still believed that the Otherworld's sister world had to remain closed off under all circumstances.

The jaybird explained (every Fenlandian boy and girl learned Jaybird in school) what had happened to the dragonflies when they'd tried to capture one of the special knights in Sylvan. As the dragonflies were beaten, Eekan hid in the forest, carefully avoiding the keen eyes of Tiberius, and waited. He surreptitiously followed the boy-king and four others, including the boy-king's sister, through a moongate to Surmik. He then hid in a herd of aurochs and watched as the group found and opened an ancient crossover point—and went through.

“So it's as you feared, isn't it?” Dred asked when the bird was finished.

Morgaine stared hard at the image on the sangrealite screen. “It is. And what's worse, I can tell that the sword Gram has been retrieved. The boy-king is moving.”

“How are you feeling, Mum?” Dred asked, knowing that open crossover points were bad for her power.

“It's just one crossover. So long as the King's Gate stays shut, I'll be fine.”

“Good,” Dred said. Then he asked, “Where does that crossover let out?”

“I checked the ancient maps. Some place called Sweden. Surely it's awful,” Morgaine said. “Mordred, we must redouble our efforts.”

“Is the wizard with them?”

“No.”

“Then we should go and meet them. We can try to stop them as they cross back.”

Morgaine frowned. “Mordred, my child, there's hope for you yet. Gather thirty men and leave at once. Don't harm the boy-king. Kill the others. Bring me Gram and the sword carried by the girl.”

“Yes, Mum.”

“Now go!” Morgaine ordered. “Eekan will show you the way!”

The jaybird took off. Dred followed him down to the barracks, and then onward as they gated to the barren slopes of Surmik.

 

Lance and Bedevere were relieved when Artie, Kay, and Erik finally emerged from the boreal forest.

“How'd it go?” Lance asked after they'd shimmied across the rope bridge.

“And how does it feel to have
that
?” Bedevere asked, pointing at Gram.

Erik turned his new ancient sword in his hand and said, “Weird. Really weird. After I got it out of the tree, it, like, downloaded a bunch of stuff into my head.”

“Such as?” Lance wondered.

“Well, it taught me how to control myself when I'm in one of those berserker rages. I also think I can determine when I go berserk, although I could be wrong about that. I may still fly off the handle without warning.”

“Time will tell, I guess,” Lance said.

“What else did it teach you?” Bedevere asked.

“A bunch of swordsmanship stuff and Norse mythology. It also taught me a ton about the Otherworld. I don't think I'll be so freaked out there anymore.”

Artie pointed up the slope toward the crossover and asked, “Anything happen up there?”

“Negative. A few more aurochs wandered through is all,” Lance said.

Artie called his spear, which flew across the river and landed at his feet, and untied the rope. Kay coiled it and packed it up, and then they headed back up the hill to the crossover.

When they got there, Artie inspected the portal and proclaimed, “Looks good. I think it's here to stay.” Then he walked through to the Otherworld.

He led the knights up the hill toward the herd of aurochs, wanting to get away from the crossover a little before opening a moongate to the court-in-exile. As he ambled along he noticed that one of his shoelaces was untied. He bent to tie it, and when he did something zipped through the air, narrowly missing his head!

“What was that?” Kay exclaimed.

Lance dropped to the ground. “A crossbow bolt!”

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

More crossbow bolts.

A lot more.

Everyone took cover. As Artie dropped into the grass, one ricocheted off his spear, nearly knocking it from his hand.

Lance and Kay crawled next to Artie. “Where're they coming from?” Kay asked.

“The aurochs,” Lance said.

“There must be someone hiding in the herd,” Artie said.

“Ya think?” Kay blurted.

“I'll take care of it,” Lance said with a wink. He drew two arrows that had bulky cylinders where the arrowheads should have been. He nocked them, propped himself up, and let them fly. As he dropped back into cover, he ordered, “Heads down, folks!”

The arrows hit the ground between the feet of the first line of aurochs and exploded with a bright flash and loud
bang
!

Lance pumped his fist. Artie and Kay looked at him quizzically. “Flashbang grenades,” he explained. “Awesome, right? I made those arrows special. Got some other tricks in my quiver too.”

But they didn't have time to discuss any of that, because the explosions had set the herd in motion.

Big-time.

Lance stood defiantly as a contingent of the giant animals barreled toward them. He shot another arrow at the ground twenty feet in front of them. When it struck, a large fireball lit the plain, creating a wall that diverted the herd. Lance motioned for Artie and the knights to join him closer to the blaze. Not only did the fire prevent them from being trampled to death, it also prevented whoever had shot at them from being able to see them very well. Everyone moved up and took a knee, forming a little circle.

“Holy sugar, Lance! What're you, some kind of level-twenty-seven ranger or something?” Kay exclaimed, sounding more like a Dr Pepper head than she would've liked.

“You weren't kidding about those other tricks in your quiver, were you?” Artie asked with a lot less irony.

Lance, all business, said, “No, I wasn't. What now, dude?”

Artie had momentarily forgotten that he was the one in charge. “If they're Fenlandian, we should try to stop them, otherwise they might try to shut the crossover. Kay and I'll go left; Bedevere, you take Erik to the right.”

“Got it,” Erik said.

“Lance, you have more of those fireballers?” Artie asked.

“Three,” Lance said.

“Good. Put two in the middle of the stampede, fifty feet apart. Save one for an emergency.
Bercilak
will be our go word. If you hear me say it, repeat it as loud as possible, and rendezvous back here so we can moongate out.”

They nodded as Artie felt a surge of power and pride run through him.

“Should I try to go berserk?” Erik asked.

“I don't see why not!” Artie exclaimed. “All right. On three. One. Two. Three!”

They split around the fire wall, Lance momentarily joining Artie and Kay. He quickly shot two arrows—
swoosh
,
swoosh—
into empty spots in the stampede. Two more fireballs blossomed on the plain. Then he knelt and got ready to cover his friends.

The knights moved out.

Into utter chaos.

Before they'd gone twenty feet, Artie and Kay had dodged five charging aurochs, jumped over a wayward calf, and ducked a few more crossbow bolts.

Kay spun and yelled, “Over there!” Artie looked and saw a large man in dark-green leather armor lying on the ground. He appeared to be unconscious, a crossbow on the ground a few feet away. They moved toward him and saw that he'd been trampled.

“Ugh,” Kay said, looking at his bloodied face and his caved-in chest.

“Yeah,” Artie agreed.

An arrow screamed inches above their heads as they turned to see another man, also in green leather armor, falling to the ground clutching his chest.

Another of Lance's shots zipped by Kay's shoulder, but the soldier it targeted swiped his mace through the air just as he was about to be hit, knocking it down. In another instant he was upon Kay, swinging at her head.

Kay stepped back and parried with Cleomede. The man brought the mace low and grabbed it with both hands, unleashing a backhanded swing at Kay's stomach. She jumped back again and brought her sword across the mace, cutting it cleanly in two.

“Don't mess with me, dude!” Kay shouted, but the man moved very quickly, drew a knife, and stepped right up to her. He was preparing to push the blade between her ribs when he was run through the side with Artie's spear and collapsed in a heap.

Artie called for Rhongomyniad and the spear lifted out of the wounded man's body and returned to Artie's hand.

Artie and Kay spotted more enemies about fifty feet to their right, locked in battle with Bedevere and Erik. Erik had followed Artie's advice and flown into a berserker rage. In just a few seconds he knocked down at least six assailants. Bedevere wasn't much worse. His claymore swept through the air like a whirligig, knocking down one, then two, then three attackers.

Over the thumping of the stampede Artie heard someone yell, “Remember—do not kill the boy-king!”

Artie spun in the direction of the voice. The guy giving orders was up the hill a short distance, behind more soldiers and a few straggling aurochs. He was about Artie's height, had a medium-sized bird perched on his shoulder, and over his armor he wore a purple-and-white tunic that had a large double-headed, golden bird stitched onto it. A helmet obscured his face, and on top of this helmet were two short and crooked stag's horns: one red, one blue.

Artie didn't recognize the coat of arms, but he knew that helmet.

He turned to Kay and shouted, “That's the guy who nabbed Qwon! He's wearing the same helmet!” and bolted toward the kidnapper. A large aurochs crossed in front of him and he jumped over it like a track-and-field star, using the spear like a vaulting pole.

About a dozen soldiers stood between Artie and his target. Three arrows zoomed past Artie, each hitting a different mark. What a shot Lance was!

Artie threw his spear, and it impaled two more soldiers through their thighs like they were shish kebab. The men fell to the ground wailing.

Artie drew Flixith and Carnwennan.

A pair of soldiers was next in line. They each had long swords and plate shields. Artie spun Flixith wildly, and to the soldiers it appeared as though Artie spawned four, then six, then eight arms—all wielding swords!

The trick bought Artie a fraction of a second. He used this moment to move between the soldiers and slice behind their knees with Carnwennan and Flixith, dropping them to the ground in useless, moaning heaps.

Kay, ostensibly covering Artie's flank, couldn't believe how driven her brother was.

Four soldiers were left. Two of these were armed with really evil-looking flails made of reinforced sticks and chains and spiky steel balls. The other two were snapping silver-roped whips.

The kidnapper stood behind them holding a common-looking broadsword.

“You're not getting away this time!” Artie yelled as Kay skidded next to him.

Dred looked down the slope past his remaining soldiers. The archer was occupied by half a dozen Fenlandian foot soldiers; the rest of Dred's men were not faring well against the Black Knight and the one that wielded Gram. No matter. If Dred could capture the boy-king and the girl's sword, it would still be a successful raid. He could get Gram later.

Dred eyed Artie. He looked kind of familiar, but Dred couldn't place him, and his features wouldn't come into focus for some reason. Dred shook his head and said, “Drop your weapons, there's no point in resisting further.” The bird on his shoulder flapped its wings and screeched.

“Ha! As if, loser!” Kay yelled. Then she stepped forward and took on the two bruisers with the flails.