The Dragons of Sara Sara by Robert Chalmers Page A

his mortal enemy he thrust and parried and hacked at it and would best it yet. Of course the Song Wood tree just stood as it had for years, only shaking it’s crown at Rees’s furious and unskilled blows. The Song Wood tree was as hard as forged steel, and the ringing of the sword and the jarring of Rees’s hands were the only result of the attack.
    Rees stumbled and nearly dropped the sword when a voice seemed to come from the tree itself.
    “Would you cut down a Song Wood tree boy, with the sword of a warrior? Have you no axe that you must show such disrespect for a well made weapon?"
    Rees was dumbfounded. The Song Wood tree had spoken to him! Had he been in the sun too long? Was this a dream that he would awaken from to face another day? No. Rees looked about him. There was no one in sight. Turning back to the Song Wood tree he was equally surprised now to see a man of the Asha Altan standing by the trunk, arms folded across his chest. Brown skinned as all the people of the Plain were, his skin had turned almost black with sun and time. He was not young, the grey hair told that, but he looked as tough as old boot hide and as unyielding as a rock. His clothing said he was one of the elders. The lion symbol woven into his headband told Rees he was local, of the Stone Lion sept. He stood a good few hands taller than Rees, himself tall for his age. His clothing was spare. The bare essential necessary to cover himself decently. Short breeches, leather jerkin, soft boots, a broad belt worn over one shoulder supporting a sword. The hilt of which Rees could see over his right shoulder. He held a short spear and small shield in his left hand. The spear point was burnished copper almost two hands in length. This was a killing spear used in battle. Not a hunting spear. The copper spear point would need tempering after any use. They were soft, but used only by the older warriors as a mark that they had survived many encounters. Any foe they faced now needed only a soft point to bring them down. A sign of contempt for an enemy. In battles, the most courageous had been seen to turn and run when faced with a man carrying a copper tipped spear.
    Rees was set to run. His eyes were like saucers in his face. He daren't take his eyes from the grizzled warrior only a spears length away from him. Rees still gripped the sword. He would never let it fall. His father had given it to him, with just a wink when Rees had asked what his mother would say. He kept it in the stable from then on. He knew his father had fought for the Queen in times past and this had been his weapon. It was marked with the strange stick like script that told all that the sword belonged to a blade master.
    Rees stood rooted to the ground, wishing he was a Song Wood tree. To run would be to shame himself forever in his own eyes. He had no idea how he should react to one of these mysterious men.
    “Close your mouth boy. The flies will find rest enough in other shade.”
    Rees snapped his mouth shut. Red slowly crept up his face to the roots of his hair.
    “Who did you steal the blade from child? For it is certain that you are no blade master. The Song Wood tree can tell me that.”
    Was that a hint of mirth in the man’s words? Rees could swear that the man was laughing at his expense, but his face was like stone and the black eyes glittered like obsidian from the slopes of Sara Sara.
    “I… my father gave me this sword. He was – is a blade master in the Queens service. During the Mordos Wars.” Rees managed to stammer. “Curse my hide,” he thought. “What am I doing? Do I not look fool enough?”
    Straightening, he continued. “I wished to join the Asha Altan, but my father needs me to help him. He was injured during the wars and now finds some work impossible. He gave me his sword and for him I will learn to use it.” Rees swallowed. “… And I'm not a child.” He added with a touch of defiance in his voice.
    “No, you are not. You hold a blade