Coal: A Novel

Chapter One

Coal Book One of the Everleaf Series    by Constance Burris

             

Chapter One 

Coal held the newly finished sword at arm’s length.  The sentient weapon vibrated in his grasp, urging him to attack but he tightened his sweaty grip around the leather hilt and ignored the foreign impulses. He’d been forging swords and practicing with the finished weapons long enough to know when to attack and when to wait.  

Finally Grigory, the master swordsmith, advanced.  Coal parried, stepping aside and swinging his sword with all of his strength to the opposite side. Grigory fell to the ground, effortlessly rolling beneath the sword before he bounced back to his feet.     

“Is she overwhelming you?” Grigory asked, as they faced each other. They had been dueling for the past two hours. Sweat dripped from Coal’s forehead, his back, and his arms, but just like all the other times they’d dueled, the swordsmith showed no sign of exertion. 

“She's restless.” Coal wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “But I'm in con—” 

Grigory rushed forward with an arcing swipe. Coal raised his sword to meet the strike. For a moment, their strengths were equal.  His sword vibrated its enjoyment as the Grigory threatened to overcome Coal.

Forcing the sword’s excitement to the back of his mind, he focused all of his strength into his upper body and pushed outward.

Overwhelmed, the Grigory leaped back.

During the two years of forging swords and sparring with Grigory, Coal never had the strength to complete such a move. For an instant, he let himself—and the sword—enjoy their accomplishment. 

He was so distracted by his small victory, he almost didn’t notice one of Grigory’s legs heading towards his knees. Just in time, Coal jumped. The moment he landed, there was a sword at his neck. 

Grigory lowered his blade. “You were distracted.” 

“I almost had you,” Coal said with an intense rush of pride and confidence.

“You did not. You've been slow and lazy all morning.”

“But I finally completed the block.”

“Not with any speed. You are gaining strength and height, but that is nothing to be proud of. What is the point of having strength if you are beheaded because it slows you down?”

Coal let Grigory’s words sink in while his breathing slowed. “You're right. I've been a little distracted. I am supposed to meet Princess Chalcedony soon.” He glanced outside, trying to gauge the time. The sun was weak, but the springtime rays were much stronger than they were when he'd arrived. 

It was time for him to go.

Grigory lifted an eyebrow above his one remaining eye. The other had been damaged during a war 200 years ago when he was a soldier instead of a swordsmith.  “How long has it been since you've seen her?”

Coal bit his lip, while he pretended think about the answer he already knew. “Two months.” 

Grigory took the sentient sword from Coal's hands. It would be presented to Chalcedony on her coronation as queen. Its silver shaft was reinforced with magic, and its black leather hilt emanated heat and welcomed touch. It was by far the best sword Coal had ever helped Grigory forge. 

“Before you go, I have something to ask you.”

“What is it?” The way Grigory spoke made Coal wonder if he’d done something wrong besides being too distracted during the fight.