knowing such things, son. You’re not a warrior yet.”
“Yeah, sure! What was I thinking?” Sam scoffed. “Only a warrior can walk into a library and look up a bunch of symbols. I should have known I wasn’t qualified to read because I haven’t sliced anybody open yet.” Sam lifted the blade in front of his face and frowned. “All King Arthur had to do was pull his sword from the stone and his weapon worked from day one. Why would this blade be any different?”
BJ shook his head. “Perhaps this king was not as ignorant as you are.”
The wolf looked up from a rock he was sniffing next to the path. As he lifted his leg, he began to pee and questioned, “Who’s this King Arthur? What pack does he lead?”
Sam smiled, realizing his point had fallen on uninformed ears. “Oh, never mind. Mark your rock.”
When they reached the field, BJ motioned for Mosley to step aside. “Sam, show me your blade and reveal its name. A man cannot fight with a sword he hasn’t named. That would be a dishonor, not only to the sword, but its maker.”
Sam looked at BJ, then at his sword. “I haven’t named it yet. I haven’t put any thought into it. What do you think I should name it?”
“You’re asking me?” BJ grumbled. “Only you can answer that question, son. The naming of a sword must not be trivialized. This is a bond that must be forged between warrior and steel.”
Sam looked at the blade and thought, That’s ridiculous. This guy’s been watching too much TV. After a quick smirk, he responded. “Okay, okay. Bassorine said it was a Sword of Truth and Might. So I guess—”
BJ dropped to one knee and bowed.
Sam lowered the blade to his side. “What are you doing?”
“Son, you don’t realize what you have in your possession,” BJ responded, keeping his head lowered in the sword’s presence. “I did not realize you possessed a blessed blade. This is, indeed, a great honor. A weapon of that nature could command the Ultimate Power. One does not simply use a sword like this. A man must seek permission from the blade to command it. As your teacher, I must also seek the blade’s blessing before I can instruct you with it. Please, son, I beg you. Bow and ask for forgiveness. Permission must be acquired.”
“What?” Sam exploded. “You’ve got to be pulling my leg! It’s a piece of metal. How on Grayham can I ask a sword for permission? It isn’t alive. It’s unable to speak. And if it is alive, it hasn’t said one word to me since Bassorine gave it to me. Whatever power it’s said to have, I’m sure it will come from me.” Sam looked at BJ and then at Mosley. He could see the deep level of concern on their faces.
Both the instructor and the wolf took a few steps back. Sam’s worry was growing with each step they took. “You guys are messing with me, aren’t you?”
Just as Sam finished his question, the sword grew red hot in his hand, and it forced the ignorant warrior to release it. The sword rose from Sam’s palm and hovered in front of his face for only a short moment before it turned to place its point beneath his chin like an unseen warrior was wielding it.
The sword made three thumping taps to the bottom of Sam’s jaw with the flat of its blade and then spoke. “My uninformed Sam!” The sword’s voice was commanding, and its blade pulsated with every syllable as if a shallow light had been forged inside it. “I had high hopes for you, but it appears you are an ignorant, arrogant boy who has learned little since his arrival on Grayham.”
Sam watched as the pulsating of the sword went from a shallow white to a soft red, almost as if the blade was becoming angrier as it continued to speak. “I’m extremely disappointed. I’ve waited for more than 10,000 seasons to be wielded by you, and it’s clear to me that my wait was in vain. Someone with your intelligence should understand what you considered normal is long gone.”
The sword hovered close to Sam’s ear and spoke so only Sam could hear. “You know of the Book of Immortality, and you know it has a soul of its own and the power to govern the gods. Since you know this secret, why can’t you accept that a sword of my caliber can