Dinner at Suvau and Yolana’s abode that evening consisted of a very hearty chicken and vegetable stew. The smell wafted through the house, causing everyone to come to the table early as Aalis, Yolana and Emeri cooked.

“I can’t recall a time when there was so much food in our cupboards.” Yolana shook her head, marvelling at the crates, scorched with the names of various vegetables, bursting to overflowing with the same. “Perhaps on the day of our wedding…”

“Our kitchen was smaller. We lived in the village proper then.” Suvau lifted a box of potatoes over their heads, putting it on the crate where Caste preferred to sit the night before.

“I am surprised the Terras allow you to marry at all.” Aalis admitted. “I thought it would be a way to lower your morale by refusing it.”

“Ah yes but the more of us there are, the less the Terras have to do for themselves.” Yolana winked.

Aalis frowned. “I do not understand.”

“Let’s just say,” Suvau leaned on the table, “nine months after a wedding, there are an awful lot of babies born and it’s not just the married couple with the new addition to their family.” He smiled warmly at Yolana and slid his arm around her waist. “Do you remember Ersha and Sheal’s wedding?”

“How could I forget?”

Aalis blushed and looked at Emeri who giggled and shook her head.

“It’s any wonder I don’t have a score of siblings.” She laughed. “Supper is ready!”

The mood was merry around the table despite the close quarters as they talked about their day. Caste was unable to find a corner to hide in but he was allowed to sit on one of the end chairs, pushed back a fraction from the table, creating a distance bubble around himself, his reluctance to interact reinforced by him holding a book up to his nose.

“The forge is amazing!” Judd announced. “How they have utilised the open lava flow for smelting and weapons craft…”

“Sounds a little unstable to me.” Giordi admitted. “What if the lava gets a little enthusiastic?”

“The water flow we have in the forge can be diverted, from as far away as the door and the door has a stone cover, reinforced with metal, in case of an emergency.” Suvau assured them.

Giordi tilted his head, conceding to the care taken with the dangerous forge.

“See what Suvau wants to do with the hilt.” Judd unrolled several pieces of parchment, each with detailed drawings of different sword shapes and lengths with measurements written down the sides. “He says I can pick out of any of these designs.”

Verne and Judd leaned over the designs. “All of these you can do?” Verne asked, impressed.

“All of them.”

Verne turned to Judd. “How are you going to choose?”

“I figure I’ve got a hefty sword that has a double edged blade so this one ought to be single edged and lighter.”

“Do not forget the lesson you learnt with Dalain’s loss at Fort Bastil.” Aalis warned. “His sword was light weight. He was faster with it but it broke against your shield and armour.”

“I’m going to use a blended metal, one of my own secret formula, that will be as strong as the sword he has now but half the weight.” Suvau promised. “I’ve already put Judd through the motions of a custom make.”

“I’ve been weighed, my measurements have been recorded and my strike force has been noted.” Judd laughed. “I learned more about myself in one hour at the forge than anywhere else in Terra.”

“It’s father’s thoroughness to a custom build that makes him irreplaceable.” Emeri said proudly.

“And these designs are the ones that will work best with that blend and Judd’s needs.”

“Really? On the table?” Yolana rebuked and Judd scooped the pages away carefully so she could put bowls of stew down in front of them.

“Didn’t that weaponsmith in Fort Faine say it wasn’t much better than a paperweight?” Caste reminded Judd from behind his book.

“That is a lazy weaponsmith attitude,” Suvau explained, “more like a blacksmith pretending to be a weaponsmith.”

“And when it comes to swords, no one is better than Suvau.” Yolana winked. “He said so himself.”

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“It’s not a boast.” Suvau chuckled deeply and Aalis was sure he made the floor rumble. “Swords are made out of a single forged piece these days. There’s no welding, no joins that might snap, just simple, strong blades with the hilt a part of the design. However, your hilt,” he looked at Judd, “was made separately and the blade inserted into it.”

“That’s how Suvau knew it was over five hundred years old.” Judd explained to everyone who were already devouring the stew as he talked. “He says he can remove the broken blade from the interior of the hilt and forge a new one to fit.”

“Without damaging the hilt in the process?”

“It’ll get a little jarred as I ensure the blade becomes properly fixed but that portion of the hilt is plain. The crest is higher on the hilt so we won’t lose that detail.”

“Speaking of detail,” Emeri took the piece of paper from her apron pocket, “Caste and I were able to identify some of the markings on the crest.”

“Oh, so you found the library then?” Yolana winked at the cleric.

“You might have said…” Caste murmured, closing his book and taking up his stew.

“We did try…”

“Anyway,” Emeri waved her hands to bring the attention back to the topic, “the sword had to predate the bicentenary of the building of the wall of the south.”

“That much was obvious.” Caste confirmed.

“Obviously,” Emeri batted back his mordancy with ease, “all crests since then had a year embossed into them but this one doesn’t. However, where the year would normally be at the centre of the crest, there is a much stronger indentation than anything else on it, of a star,” she pointed at Caste’s pendant which he always wore, the four pointed start inside a circle, “that star.”

“So it’s a sword made after the founding of the city of Astaril,” Judd nodded, “that symbol didn’t exist before the wall was built and Sir Andigre became King Andigre.”

“Exactly.” Emeri nodded. “But, and this is where it becomes really interesting,” she traced the line of marks around the crest’s outer circle, “these markings are ancient Terra.”

“Wait…before Astaril’s foundation?”

She nodded. Judd looked at Caste who shrugged.

“Her reasoning is sound…up until this point.”

“This is where we began to disagree,” Emeri admitted, “ancient Terra is hard to translate as there was no universal language back then. All the clans spoke their own dialects and half of them didn’t even utilise the written word.”

“So you have two different interpretations of the writing?” Aalis looked between them.

“I think,” Caste eyed Emeri, “and there’s more than a fair chance that I’m right, that it says, ‘Omni alvi clavis’, which, translated literally, means, ‘all things cleared key’ or the key blade that clears all things.”

He met all of their gazes, Giordi looking confused. “Does that really make sense?”

“One old hilt I saw had, ‘Ugly Ogre Eater’, embossed on it.” Suvau shook his head. “I think the weaponsmith was having a go at the person who ordered it…or he didn’t know what he was embossing.”

“They were primitive back then.” Caste argued. “Their crests usually meant more to the wielder than it did to anyone else.”

“So whoever wielded the blade in the hilt knew what ‘key blade that clears all things’, means?” Judd asked and Caste nodded. He paused. “Not that I’m doubting you but Emeri, you don’t think that’s right?”

“I think what Caste has interpreted has merit,” Emeri insisted, “however, I’ve been transcribing a great deal of ancient Terra text. Omni and omega are common translation errors and I think that this,” she tapped to a small indentation mark from her rubbing, “turns clavis, which is key, into auctoritas, which means authority.”

“Emeri believes the crest actually reads, ‘Omega clear authority’.” Caste’s voice was as dry as a bone in the desert. He caught sight of Suvau’s glower and lowered his eyes, submitting to a father’s silent warning.

Emeri shrugged. “The truth is we may never really know what it says but because of the ancient Terra on the hilt, I think that it was made prior to the founding of Astaril when language was formed into one dialect by the Order of the Grail and the star was embossed on it afterwards, hence it being a deeper mark.”

They considered this for a time.

“Who do you think the sword belonged to?” Judd asked quietly.

“I’ve only seen it’s like once before,” Caste said surprisingly, “and that is the sword of Sir Verion.”

Judd glared at him. “And you didn’t think to mention that?”

“I’ve never had a good look at it before.”

“Wait,” Suvau folded his arms, “you’ve seen the legendary sword of one of the Four Spire knights?”

“It was preserved in the house of the Order of the Grail, Bishop Peele’s most prized artefact…until Sir Rylan petitioned King Rocheveron that it belonged at the fort named after the knight.” Caste grumbled then shook his head. “The hilt bears some resemblance to that blade.”

Judd drew the hilt out of his pocket and gazed at it, his eyes gleaming. “So…this might have been a knight’s blade? As in, one of the Four Spire knights?”

“Highly doubtful. Don’t forget that after the Four Spire knights perished in the building of the wall, King Andigre knighted other men who had swords made right on the cusp of Astaril’s founding. It’s possible they just used old swords with new embossing, a lot like your current sword was just one of the discarded blades given to a rookie knight in training.”

“Yes but still…imagine that I might be holding the hilt of a knight of old…” Judd’s eyes sparkled with the same joy as he’d felt the day he’d set out from Astaril. “That’s really quite remarkable.”

Aalis smiled warmly at him. He put the hilt away then caught her eyes. She blinked and turned away, busying herself in the kitchen.

“I meant to ask,” Verne blurted, seeing the awkward exchange between them, “what did Ermo Kenet say upon your return from Quarre?”

“As fortune would have it, he was asked to join Sir Fereak on his patrol,” Suvau stood, taking bowls with him, “they and are due back tomorrow. I will be deeply interested to see the look on his face.”

“I’d like to meet Sir Fereak, if he has the time.” Judd nodded.

“I could use some help in the orchard,” Verne looked at Giordi pointedly who sighed, “you can sing in the afternoon but in the morning, you’re going to help Sheal and Ersha.”

“Sheal offered her home to me again for those who need healing.” Aalis wiped her hands on her skirt. “I suppose you will be ensconced in the library once more?” She teased Caste.

“I could be ensconced in there a month and still not be satisfied.” Caste retorted.

Suvau laughed heartily and Caste looked at him in astonishment, racking his brains to think if he’d said something amusing.

“And here I thought Emeri was the only one with an all consuming passion for that dusty archive.”

“We thought Caste was the only one.”

“Good grief…they’re multiplying!”

“We are not!” Caste erupted, then became miffed as everyone burst out laughing.