Read Online The Coming Storm by Valerie Douglas - Free Book Online Page B

in her throat. There was a matching short-sword and scabbard as well. And an Elven bow, with a quiver and arrows.
    “Draw the blade,” Dorovan said, clearly pleased at her reaction.
    Setting the short-sword on her belt, she fastened it in place and then drew the longsword as he’d asked. Her fingers wrapped around the hilt just so. Perfectly. As the length was revealed she saw the runes etched along the blade. Her heart seemed to go still and she looked at him in stunned and startled wonder. She’d only ever heard stories of such a thing. She swallowed, hard.
    “Dorovan, this is a Named sword.”
    His mouth twitched, amused. “Aye and what is its name?”
    Down on one knee himself beside her, Dorovan watched her face and the light of awe in her steel-blue eyes.
    Softly, she said, “Ailith, for it’s mine.”
    In the old tongue of her people her name meant ‘light’, as in brightness. It suited her.
    “That no other may wield it. Just so. No other men can see those runes and only a few of those among my people, most will see only a normal blade. I would have given them to you on the day of your majority but I didn’t know whether I could be there that day. There will be so much festivity, it would be difficult for me to see you anyway. So, I give them to you now. Your grandmother will say  they’re a gift from her. She’s already told your mother that’s what she’s gifting you. And, in truth, they are from her as well.”
    Ailith was speechless, running her fingers gently along the runes etched down the blade.
    He didn’t need to tell her not to speak of this, she wouldn’t, as she hadn’t spoken of her sword teacher or his relationship to her grandmother. Dorovan had visited when she was young and she’d surprised him, which didn’t happen often. But then, he hadn’t been expecting her. They’d asked her not to speak of it, explaining carefully why she mustn’t and she hadn’t. Her parents knew only that she took sword lessons when she visited, assuming  someone had been hired for the task. They didn’t know his race and there had been no reason to ask. Elves didn’t, as a rule, teach their secrets to Men. Elves didn’t teach men the sword, not unless they were Hunters or Woodsmen, and only one among them did that.
    Knowing there was something of a lie to it itched at her sometimes but she also knew the stories about Elves and had heard the way some people talked about them. It seemed best not to speak of it so no one would ask. No one had and why would they? It wasn’t uncommon for someone of a landed family at her age to take lessons in swordsmanship, although after long years of peace it was becoming less common. Nor would they be likely to ask if an Elf was teaching her.
    Dorovan hated the subterfuge, it offended his Honor but there was nothing for it. His people and those of men would frown on all of this.
    “So,” he said, “shall we put them to the test?”
    Raising her eyes, she looked at him. “Dorovan, how do I thank you for this?”
    “I think perhaps you have,” he said. “Just now.”
    Quickly, sweetly, she pressed a kiss upon his cheek.
    In all the years he’d known her, she’d never made such a gesture. If he hadn’t been kneeling, she couldn’t have, she barely came to his chin. It caught his heart. Elves didn’t touch those outside their race often. Though they didn’t show it in the ways of men, his fondness for her and hers for him was strong.
    Embarrassed, she stood abruptly, color washing through her face. She settled the harness for the longsword over her shoulder, fastened it properly to her belt to stabilize it for drawing.
    Dorovan stood, taking his cue from hers. He didn’t coach, he merely waited.
    Setting herself, she reached for the hilt and the blade hissed from the scabbard smoothly as she drew. Two-handed, finding the weight and testing it, she swung a few times and then went through a set of the forms to get accustomed to the feel. Not fast, but so