The Burning Sword by Emily Williams Read Free Book Online Page B

her curly head into her shoulder. Her voice was somewhat muffled by this, but Faith could make out occasional phrases such as ‘so worried’ and ‘thought you might be dead.’
     
    “I’m sorry,” Faith replied, patting her on the back. Martha pulled away, sniffing, flakes of snow sitting like diamonds amongst her curly hair. “I chased the boar, and then it went onto the rock face-”
     
    “Onto the what?!” Martha’s face paled. “Faith , you didn’t.”
     
    “She did,” Eli, who looked rather bored by Martha’s greeting, butted in. “And she almost ended up dead like the boar.”
     
    Martha squeaked, and hugged Faith again. Other members of Faith ’s hunting group were emerging now, looking rather disappointed to see that she was empty handed. Eli poked Faith with the hilt of the sword, which was surprisingly painful, but effective for his purpose.
     
    “Going to tell them about this?” he asked, somewhat patronizingly.
     
    Faith took the hilt irritably, just nicking his skin with the sharp edge he was holding- quite accidentally, of course. Martha’s gaze fell on it, and Sibyl, who had just joined them, gasped.
     
    She wasn’t sure where to begin. She certainly didn’t want Eli to tell them; she was sure he would come up with a ridiculous story that mainly glorified himself. Perhaps that was unfair. The rest of the village had come out now, and were looking at her, expectant.
     
    Haltingly, Faith began to tell them the story. It wasn’t well told, nor was it particularly coherent, but with Eli’s frequent interruptions, she got the point across.
     
    Everyone was highly excited to hear about this, and the sword was seized, and passed around the group.
     
    All of Faith ’s hunters had a go with the sword, and each one felt it warm in their palm. Only some could get sparks to fly out, like Faith could, but it glowed for all of them.
     
    Out of everyone who tried, it was Faith and Sibyl who used it the most naturally, and created the most sparks and glowing. They both used very different styles; whilst Faith used it like an extension of her own arm, barely noticing its weight, Sibyl held it delicately, moving with grace and poise, like a dancer with a streamer.
     
    Eventually other members of the village had a go with it. To Faith ’s dismay, even Margaret managed to get it to glow, and one spark flew limply out of the tip. Her smug expression made Faith want to direct several of her own sword sparks down her throat.
     
    A young boy wanted a go next- he hadn’t been old enough to join the army, but had very much wanted to do so. He took the sword, and stumbled because of the weight, and then dropped it.
     
    Stooping, Faith picked it up, wondering how something so light could have prevented him from holding it.
     
    “It was freezing!” the boy declared. “The handle bit was too cold to hold.”
     
    “Wait.” Faith looked at him wide-eyed. “It didn’t warm in your hand?”
     
    “No,” said the boy, also wide-eyed. “It felt as cold as the snow.”
     
    As the sword was currently almost too hot to hold in her palm, this puzzled Faith somewhat. Striding to the nearest boy, she handed it to him, and received the same reaction. It was too heavy and too cold to hold.
     
    Her brain ticking into action, Faith realized just what was happening. Only the female villagers could wield the sword. Only the women could do it.
     
    Just to check that it wasn’t their age that did it, Faith handed a small girl, little more than a toddler, the sword. The girl’s mother gasped anxiously, but the girl let out a delighted laugh, as hundreds of tiny sparks flew out of the tip, mingling with the falling snow, before disappearing. The girl looked rather miffed when Faith took it away, watching the sword with eager eyes.
     
    It was. Her theory was correct. Only women and girls could use the sword. One sideways glance at Eli told her that he had worked this out too. He did not look impressed when