Swords with Souls
A Medieval Fantasy Fiction Story
(Adult Content)
By Dan Watt
(Author of the BARD series)
(Author of the Plagueborn series)
Fallen Prince
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Now that he can’t use the entranceway from the stable to a stairway that leads to the different floors of the castle he leaps onto the stables sloping roof instead. Nearby, he hears people talking fearfully about the fire and the loss of the prince. The palace must have been evacuated other than those throwing pails of water. He gazes up to the third floor. The one just below the prince’s. If he has to, he’ll take off his disguise but he would rather not. From his tool bag he takes out a knotted rope and three prong grappling hook. He also slips on a pair of fingerless leather gloves. There’s no light coming from the window he sees directly above. When he was younger, he thought everyone could see at night. Not the same way as in daylight when there is a rainbow of colours but shades of grey and blue. It wasn’t until he lived amongst the Propers that he learned Sifs, and dwarves of mixed blood, could see even during solar midnight. Unfortunately, torch and candlelight decreased the distance. He throws the grappling hook at the window sill.
In the land of the Sifs, perfection was expected but never realized. You tried and tried again until something became easy. Once elders learned what a young Sif excelled at that individual was given a lifelong job. He always excelled at everything but reading and staying still. There were things every Sif learned. Throwing a grappling hook was not one of them. As he trained to be an infiltrator while his ears were covered in salves to make his wounds look normal, he learned all sorts of skills.
He listens for a moment. There are voices but no footsteps. He scales the palace’s wall to the third-floor window. If he’s right it will take him to the second kitchen where prepared food is brought and where extra jugs of mead and wine are stored.
Once inside the storage room he sees shelves and pantries around a table with cutting boards and sharpened knives. As he leans out the window to remove the grappling hook and retrieve the rope he sees the hooded girl on the rooftop. Their eyes meet. She lifts her chin to him and he shivers. She is a Sif but not of his people and that means she might be a Fif; half faie. Legend told that a Fif who lifts her or his chin while staring into another’s eyes is saying ‘We will meet again’.
People I Follow
(She made the cloak Nic_the_pixie wears for the cover of BARD: Owner of the Gemstone)
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