“I am a sorceress.” Ula winced when his breath sucked in through his teeth. “That is precisely why I didn’t tell you before. It does nothing but strike fear in the hearts of those I try to help.”
“And explains why you can use dark magic so easily,” Ronan added, feeling a bit guilty for his reaction. He also felt stupid for not guessing the truth before.
“Yes.” She sighed. “I mean you no harm, Ronan Culley. I only want…”
Ronan held up a hand for her silence before dropping it back to his arm. “You’ve lied to me. You’ve withheld information that I should have known from the beginning about the sword. Give me one reason I should allow you to continue to Merisgale with me. Why shouldn’t I doubt you now?”
Ula’s black eyes welled, surprising Ronan. “You speak the truth of me. I did not lie when I told you I had powers to know where I’m needed. Things are not as they should be. Someone is not who they seem.”
“It would appear that someone is you,” Ronan said pointedly. But some of his edge left him. A sorceress was powerful but rarely did you find one that worked their magic for evil purposes.
“We all have secrets. Mine are not those that bring danger to you or your journey.” She clasped her hand together. “I have always used my powers to protect.”
Ronan studied her for several minutes. He recalled the times she’d summoned the darkness. It had been times when someone was in danger. And she’d only used her sorcery when she fought the Sledgers. He wanted desperately to believe her, to believe that he’d judged her correctly.
“I am a blacksmith. I know very little of magic and sorcery. Tell me of the sword now.” Ronan leaned against the rough bark of a tree.
Ula nodded. “The white metal of the sword can only be used to stop the dark forces by a wizard. It is crafted into a weapon by a blacksmith who has shown great skill, skill that others have taken notice of. If the sword falls to the dark forces, Sleagan will be given rule of Meris.”
“Can’t another sword be made if that happens?” Ronan interrupted.
“Yes, but it has to be made before the white metal turns yellow. Once the metal of Hadenla is yellow no other sword can be made. Only when the power is held by someone pure, does the metal remain white.”
Ronan nodded that he understood. “If the sword falls into Sleagan’s hands and the metal of Hadenla turns yellow is there no hope of ever taking the power back from the dark forces?”
“It happened once before. Long before any of us were born. Sleagan got the sword and kept it for a very long time. Then a wizard called Robusk saved us.”
“Robusk,” Ronan repeated. There wasn’t a living thing that didn’t know the name of the wizard of the high council. He was said to be the most wise of all wizards and the strongest that had ever come out of the monastery. Of course, Thestian was said to be just as gifted.
“He destroyed Sleagan and took the sword back,” Ula nodded.
“But Sleagan lives,” Ronan argued. “If he did not, there would be no threat to the sword.”
Ula shook her head and explained, “All those who reign over the dark forces are called Sleagan. It is a title, passed on if one is killed. Most do not know that.”
“And what if the sword is given to someone who does not intend to use it?” Ronan was thinking of Bryan. “Would it end the battle between wizards and the dark forces?”
Ula smiled knowingly, as if she knew his thoughts. “The centaur’s intentions are good and pure. But one cannot hold the sword for long without having the urge to use it. And only a wizard can use the power of the sword correctly. It is why nine guards are dispatched to receive the sword. On their journey back, they hand the sword off to one another so that none of them grow attached to it.”
“Are you saying the centaur would use the sword?”
“Yes.”
“And if he did so, being no wizard, he would perish.” Ronan was beginning to understand.
“Or worse. He could be sent to join the dark forces, thus giving control to Sleagan,” Ula added.
“Why didn’t Thestian send more than one warrior to help me?” Ronan frowned.
“I don’t know.” Ula shook her head.
Ronan stood still, contemplating all she’d told him. It was a lot to process. But one thing he understood above all. This was a more important journey than just delivering a weapon.
“Why did Fiona attack you?” Ronan looked up when she sighed heavily.
“When she was a child, her grandmother was put into the same situation you find yourself in today. She took up the responsibility of delivering the sword. I’d known her for some time. And I knew the moment the dark forces took her over, felt it deep within me.” Ula’s eyes filled with sadness and her gaze dropped to the ground. “I killed her. Unfortunately she made a choice and I was made to do it right in front of Fiona. She was just a girl.”
Ula shook her head. “But it made her stronger. That child took up the sword and carried it all the way to Merisgale alone.” The woman shrugged. “She has hated me these many years and I kept away from her.”
“Because you are afraid of her?”
“No. I kept away because it would cause her pain and because of the River Blanch. When I returned home, Theora’s death is what the river haunted me with. It was the same when I crossed again with you.” Ula’s hands shook. “It is the only time in my life that I ever considered allowing the dark forces to have the sword. Theora was my friend and I know what I did had to be done but it has never allowed me peace.”
Ronan regarded her expression closely, suddenly feeling sorry for her. She was like him. She lived with a death that rode guilt into her with every breath she took. He knew how that felt.
“You may continue with me, Ula,” Ronan finally said. “This is the second time you’ve made me doubt you. Do not do it again.”
“I will not. I have laid it all before you,” Ula vowed.
“All except why I saw you as a beautiful young woman yesterday,” he amended and she smiled. “But I shall allow you that one secret. As you say, we all have ours to keep.”
“You have no secrets.” Ula tilted her head. “Your eyes give away everything about you.”
“Do they?” Ronan allowed himself to smile.
“It is why the centaur shows you respect even though you stand in the way of the sword.” Ula nodded in the direction of the camp. “And why they follow you and do as you say.”
“The boy follows me because he sees me as a father figure. I accept that. Keegan comes with us out of fear that I will keep his horses. And Fiona is here because she was sent by the wizard Thestian,” Ronan corrected.
“You are not a very bright blacksmith are you?” Ula’s lips curled. “You make excuses rather than accept that people care for you, or respect you. Even a sniveling thief looked at you with admiration.”
Ronan shifted. “Because he thought I would kill him if he did not.”
Ula waved a finger in the air. “He was afraid of Keegan Yore. He was not afraid of you.” She smirked then. “And Fiona may be here to make certain that sword goes to Merisgale but when she did not know who you were, she was still drawn to you.”
“You knew about that?” Ronan felt slightly embarrassed.
“Keegan runs his mouth more than usual when he’s been drinking,” Ula told him as she stepped forward. “Let me look at your arm. The broth I gave you should have it healing quickly.”
“What exactly was that foul tasting mess you made me drink?” Ronan asked as she unwrapped his arm to peek at his wound. Strangely it did not hurt.
“Cow urine,” She answered.
“What?” Ronan’s stomach turned but Ula’s laughter settled it again. “Witch.”
“It was just water, herbs, and a bit of healing magic.” She cut her eyes up at him. “I wouldn’t have fed you urine unless you were dying.”