The Gold Sword, The Iron Shield
The meal was simple but filling: bread, some stew, dried fruit. They didn't talk much during the meal; John had the feeling that they would get to the real business afterwards. The room they ate in was small, and the tapestries on the walls had been mostly burned. But John could see that they had once been very beautiful. On one of them, at least on the part that was left, was a picture of a man and a woman. The man was dressed in armor. The woman had a gold sword in her hands, one hand grabbing the blade, the other the handle. John thought that grabbing the blade would cut her hand, but the picture showed her taking the sword and breaking it across her knee. There was a smile on the man's face, and birds of brilliant blues and greens flew around their heads. John felt peaceful looking at the picture, and it almost made him want to lay down and rest.
The king noticed him looking at the tapestry. "That's a picture of what our kingdom was like before the Evil One. We didn't fight, we had a beautiful land full of smiles and birds. That's when we had water. Now the birds have gone away. And we're going to have to use the sword to save ourselves."
A woman came in and cleared the dishes away. "Now, Joe," the king said, "It's time to show our guest Aurora." They stood up, and John stood up, too, and Joe, grabbing a candle, walked to a small door at the back of the room and opened in. The king indicated that John should precede him.
Through the door (it was small; both the king and John had to stoop to get past) was a room; their shadows danced on the wall. Joe moved forward, carrying the light with him, and they followed him to another door. Joe stood in front of it. Holding the candle out at arm's length, Joe said, in a voice that suddenly lost its hyena quality and took on the rich tones of a preacher, "We have come here in a time of great need, a time so bad that we are forced to break our sacred covenant of peace. Please forgive us, but the sword is our only hope." The king took the candle from Joe, and Joe, using a small knife, began breaking apart seals from the door. There were seven of them, and when each one had been cut, Joe said, "May we have peace without delay." Finally the seventh was done, and Joe, standing back, said, "We have broken the seal of knowledge. The power is released. We fight for the good and fear the bad." The door, without any help from Joe, slowly opened. Joe took the candle from the king and walked through. John followed; the king came last.
Beyond the door was a room made of large blocks of stone. It was cold. On the floor were rich rugs of woven fabric, and because the Evil One hadn't gotten here, they were in excellent condition, with pictures of the ocean, of fountains and sunsets and people of all colors smiling and dancing. Then John looked up. Suspended at his eye level, about ten feet from him, was a golden sword, just like the one in the tapestry in the dining room. He could just barely make out the two thin threads holding it aloft, but if he hadn't been so observant he would have had to say that the sword floated all by itself. It glowed faintly in the candle light, not only throwing glints of light back but also appearing to glow from inside, as if it had its own light source.
Joe turned to John. "This is the ancient sword Aurora, named for the dawn, the coming of light. The kings' great- grandfather put it away when he declared that his kingdom would no longer pursue the spoils of war but would work for peace and harmony in the land. He talked with the bandits and other kings and princes in the country, and together they agreed that it was better to live without war than constantly spend money and time and blood in fighting battles no one would win. Aurora had helped bring peace, but it was no longer useful, except as a reminder of the ways we should never return to."
"But," said the king, his voice coming from behind John, "we can't afford to let the Evil One destroy what we have built. The Evil One can't be talked to, reasoned with. He has no sense of right or wrong, only a sense of what he wants and doesn't want. He doesn't want beauty; he wants terror. We don't want to fight; but if we don't fight when attacked, we will have no country to speak of worth fighting for."
"I can understand that," said John. "And this sword is going to do the job?"
"No weapon can do anything without a person to use it, either well or not. This is just a sword, John. It doesn't have any magical powers, nothing special about it. What makes the sword work is the quality of the person using it."
"And what makes you think I can use it?"
"You said you've fought the Evil One before," Joe spoke, "and survived his destruction."
"Well, yeah, but you don't understand. It was just a game."
Joe held up his hand. John had noticed that without growing an inch Joe suddenly seemed bigger and more important-looking. "That's not important. A game can be training. And you also come from a place you don't know. And you mentioned Coke. The Evil One's given us the clues to his destruction. You fit the clues. What other hope do we have?"
"John," said the king, "Aurora won't kill the Evil One for you; that you have to do for yourself. But it's the best sword ever made." John wanted to ask if they had the G.I. Joe turbo-prop flechette shoulder-held narco-blaster, which would beat a sword every time, but he figured that not only wouldn't they have it, they couldn't even pronounce it.
The king took Joe's knife and cut the sword down and handed it to John: as simple as that. "There's one other thing you'll need." The king took down from the wall an iron shield. It was plain and round, about the size of a snow sled. The only feature it had was a small spike, about an inch long, right in the middle. He gave it to John.
The preparations went quickly. After a night's sleep, food was packed for him, bedding was rolled, the sword and shield were strapped to his backpack, and he was on the bridge, ready to leave. "Where does the Evil One live, by the way?" John decided to ask, since no one had given him that information.
Joe and the king looked at each other and shrugged. "We don't know," said Joe. "All we have are rumors and traditions. It's not like he leaves his business card when he stops by. The most reliable legend (and it's not all that reliable) says that you must begin the journey at the Cave of the Gnome. Once inside you must go north, west, south, and west, and then you will find a castle, where you will find two doors. If you choose the wrong door, you will plunge into a canyon that never ends. If you choose the right door, you will find the Evil One."
"Doesn't seem like much of a choice to me," said John. "And they're not very good directions. North how far? West until I hit what? C'mon, I need more information than this."
Joe shrugged. "That's all I know."
The king said, "You'll know when to do what you need to do."
"Right," said John.
"I don't know if it's right," said the king. "It's just something I'm supposed to say, supposedly being a wise man and all."
"The Cave of the Gnome. That must be the cave I was at when that stupid wooden sign came and got me." Just as he said the phrase "stupid wooden sign," the stupid wooden sign appeared, tapping its foot impatiently. "Well," said John, "keeping a candle burning in the window." He started off, sword and shield clanking, his bird cage and other things banging around, following a piece of wood that kept looking over its shoulder (if it had a shoulder) with an impatient look on its face (if it had a face). Joe waved goodbye. The king didn't.
In the forest the light was still gloomy, but John didn't notice. He was full of his own thoughts and confusions. How did it all add up? How would killing the Evil One get him home? The Evil One had said something about "the way to the Coke" -- but what did that mean? And the riddle -- what was the answer to that? John didn't like the feeling of the whole thing at all. But what other choices did he have? Up ahead he saw the entrance to the Cave of the Gnome. The piece of wood had jumped back up on the tree, looking like another piece of wood that had just had arms and legs.
Taking a deep breath, he entered.
