Blood of Aenarion - By William King Page 0,54

thought wryly. He now seemed merely curious about a sword. A glance at his brother showed he was still in a thoughtful mood and had changed the subject to try and distract himself.

‘No. That blade is never represented anywhere.’ said Teclis. ‘This sword is Sunfang.’

‘The first blade? The one Caledor forged for him in the fires of Vaul’s Anvil? The one that blazed with fire and could shoot jets of flame like a dragon?’

‘The very same.’

‘Do you think it is an accurate representation?’

‘Again the historians say yes. The elves took care about these things in those days.’

‘Whatever happened to it?’

‘No one knows. They say Aenarion gave it to Furion, one of his favoured commanders. It remained in his family for generations. They say Malekith coveted it and schemed to get it on many occasions. They say it was carried off by Nathanis, the last of Furion’s line on his great ship, Farwind, and was never seen again, for the ship never returned. They think it was lost somewhere on the coasts of the Old World, but no trace of it was ever found.’

‘You think the blade still exists?’

‘It might.’

‘It was made by Caledor. Surely the spells he wove would endure for as long as the Vortex does, at very least.’

‘It might be at the bottom of the sea. Or in some dragon’s hoard. Or in Malekith’s treasure vaults for all we know.’

‘It would be something to find it though, would it not?’ Tyrion sounded excited and the grim mood that had fallen on him when he looked at the statue of Aenarion was lifting.

‘It would indeed. If it still exists it would be one of the few fully functioning artefacts created by Caledor in the world. It would be a thing well worth studying.’

‘I was thinking more of using it as a weapon.’

‘Naturally! Of what possible use could it be to study the handiwork of the greatest mage that ever lived? Better to bang people over the head with it instead.’

‘It is the purpose it was made for.’

‘The sheer literal-mindedness of your response is irrefutable.’

‘Anyway, I was thinking more of blasting them with its flames. That would be a useful power on the battlefield.’

‘There might be something about it that would allow our father to complete his work. If the spells on the sword still function, they might give some clue as to how to remake the armour. They were both made by the same elf. They would both carry the same type of magic.’

Teclis could see that idea really caught Tyrion’s imagination. With that thoughtful look on his face he resembled Aenarion more than ever, although a bright, merry Aenarion, not nearly so grim. Perhaps Teclis thought, that was what Aenarion had looked like when he was young.

They continued to look at the statue in silence and in wonder, as they passed into the waters beyond. At some point, the sailor girl Karaya came down and joined them. She did not seem compelled to say anything either.

Around the edges of the harbour were many more giant statues all on the same scale as that of Aenarion and all of them sharing something of his statue’s power and pride and dignity.

On the western edge of the docks, a massive new statue was rising. Scaffolding still surrounded it. Masons laboured away unremittingly. At the moment it was faceless and somewhat shapeless, but Tyrion knew that within the next few decades it would take on the aspect of Finubar. The statue had only just begun to rise at the start of his reign, a mere ten years ago. It would be some time until it was completed. But what did that matter, Tyrion thought? If there was one thing that elves did not lack it was time.

Vessels lying at anchor crowded the harbour. Many were tied up at the long piers belonging to the great mercantile houses. The flags of their owners flew over ship and warehouse alike. Off to the west, on a walled complex of islands shut off from the rest of the city and accessible only through a series of bridges, walls and small forts was the Foreigners’ Quarter, the only part of the city where the humans were allowed to dwell and to wander freely without special permission from the Phoenix King or his representatives.

‘I can remember when that place was only the size of a fishing village,’ said Karaya. ‘Now they say there are almost as many humans living there as there are elves in the city.

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