“The King of Heaven save you!” Guileless gasped with a shudder. “Why in Riven was she trying to kill you?!?”

Curesoon smiled to himself. This is what he loved about being a bard – Capturing his listeners within his tale.

Without answering, Curesoon continued his story. “I jumped aside evading her razor-sharp blade by only inches, and without thinking, I snatched my father’s sword from its scabbard and held it up in an attempt to defend myself.”

While saying this, the bard stood and held up his father’s sword. “The sun’s light flashed upon its blade, and this dazzled Fray for the briefest of moments so that she paused to consider my handsomely made weapon.

“However, after only a second of admiration, the shield-maiden moved swiftly twisting around her sword and wresting Fortuity from my hand.

“It flipped through the air landing, point first, among the tall golden wheat. The steel blade gave off a slight ring as it stabbed into the earth.”

Curesoon let the sword drop from his hand and it stabbed into the ground near their feet.

“Oh no!” The mouth of Guileless fell open with shock, and he wrung his callous hands together.

“I fought to keep my fright from being expressed upon my face. Stepping backward a pace, I slowly drew out my other sword.”

Curesoon took a plain looking sword out of its scabbard. The sword was quite different from his grandfather’s weapon, and to Curesoon’s knowledge, it had no name.

Its double-edged blade was not strait like that of Fortuity nor curved like Fray’s. Instead, it was shaped something like a leaf being narrow near the hilt, slightly broadening in the middle, and then finally coming to a sharp point. As for the hilt, it consisted of a plain cross guard and pummel molded of bronze, and the handle itself was carved from dark-red wood. The wood was sculpted so that it had seven grooves around it. In this way, it fit the wielder’s fingers perfectly, and thus the hilt would not easily slip from the hand.

Curesoon went on with his story. “This weapon did not briefly turn Fray’s attention as did the first, for it is not impressive in the least. After all, it’s a plain looking sword.”

“Thus, ignoring this new weapon, Fray lunged forward again moving her shapely body with grace. The view briefly distracted me from my peril, but I soon remembered her cruel blade as it whistled past my ear.

“In a panic, I closed my eyes and blindly lifted my plain sword to protect myself. Her blade swung right to where I had held up my own!” Curesoon laughed with astonishment as he relived his memories. “I was just as shocked as her!

“The sound of clashing steel came to my ears, which ended with the ringing break of metal. When I opened my eyes, I found Fray holding Bralinna with a glare of irritation. The long, curved blade was now only half its original length, for it had broken against my nameless sword.

“The shield-maiden slowly strolled toward me with her broken blade in her hand. She moved like a cat on the hunt, and I felt trapped like a mouse. Yet, I stood my ground holding my weapon with a slight shudder that I was barely able to hide. Nervously, I gripped its hilt with white knuckles while making ready for her next attack.

“To my surprise, she suddenly lunged at me parrying my blade away with what was left of her own and knocking me to the ground. As she held herself over me, she fixed her hazel-colored eyes upon my own as if she was studying and weighing me in her mind. Then, after the briefest pause, she narrowed her eyes and the same mischievous smile returned to her beautiful face. She then slowly leaned closer until finally our lips met in a passionate kiss.”

The farmer let a wide grin show upon his freckled face, but for a change, he did not interrupt.

“My cold fear melted away within the heat of her embrace. I gazed at her lovely face as we continued to kiss. Her soft lips were warm, and her breath ever so sweet.

“To me, it seemed as though our swordplay continued, only now, our tongues were our blades, and it felt like each thrust went deeper than the previous. I’m still not sure who had won our contest, but I was certain that she had taken my heart captive.

“Not long after, we were married, and I moved her into a fine cottage on the boarders of my father’s lands. In time, Fray bore to me four sons, and all seemed well. However, a proud sword-wife from the north is not easily satisfied with the quiet life of a farmer even if he is also a bard.”

Curesoon gently slid the plain sword back into its scabbard and then returned to sit upon his log. With a sigh, he finished his tale.

“She soon grew restless, and when our youngest son fell ill and passed into the Land of Shadows, her restlessness became far too burdensome for her wild heart. At length, she took our three remaining sons and went away. That was some six months ago.”

Guileless did not seem surprised. “I mean no disrespect, sir, but you can’t expect much more from a Barbarian.” The freckle-faced farmer stated in a sorrowful but pragmatic tone.

“I think lumping a whole race into a single category of conduct is less than wise.” Curesoon stated with an apologetic grin.

“Rightly so!” Guileless replied with a nod. “And you can be sure I’d never do that.” He added firmly.

For a moment, the bard eyed the younger man with a confused look, but when he saw that the farmer was oblivious to his own contradiction, Curesoon shook his head and went on.

“I have no idea where they’ve gone.” He said with a shrug. “But my heart aches to bring them home again, and to make the matter worse, my imagination seems bent upon envisioning the most horrible fates that could possibly befall them. Though I fight against these thoughts, I feel utterly strained with this constant worry.

“As I’ve said before, I’ve searched all the country of Freeland, and I’ve wandered into many dark and foul places. I even returned to the forest of Blackthorn, though I once vowed I would never enter that wicked wood again. At any rate, this is the one place I haven’t looked.”

Curesoon took a deep breath as if he had unburdened his heart, if only for a moment, and then, he ran his hand through his long hair. Finding a loose strand, he unconsciously twisted the hair around his fingers.