The Sword Trick Page 5

  Evangeline stared at the hanging gray deluge above her, felt the cold patter of rain against her skin. She let the drops race down her cheeks. She straightened her back, focused her eyes on the horizon, then raised her sword. It flashed like lightning in the sky. She swung the blade over her head, her wrists and arms gyrating, smooth like wool on a spindle.

  “You’ll catch your death,” the old monk said stepping up beside her. Then he recognized her. “Oh, it’s you.”

  “Yeah, Dad, it’s me,” she said and punched him in the face. He fell flat over the grave. She pointed her sword at him while Roderick stepped out of from behind a tree. “And this is my husband. You know him? He’s the one you sent me to kill.”

  The old man stared up at her, holding his bleeding lip. His cowl had fallen back, revealing sharp, emerald-colored eyes.

  “I just want to know why you did it. Not that it matters,” Evangeline told him. “I can’t be more disappointed in you than I already am. You know, I asked around and found out you got your hands broken for stealing an old lady’s donkey. Her only donkey. But let’s forget that for now. Just tell me why you did it.”

  The old man looked around shiftily, but there was nowhere to go, so he started talking. “He deserved it. That no good bastard stole my look, my stories, even called himself Margon the Longshanked. It’s identity theft, for Christ’s sake. I told the magistrate, but he only laughed at me. I had to scam for years to get enough money to buy my sword. His wasn’t even made of a real emerald. It was just green glass. A toy. I told him to stop imitating me. I warned him, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He said my time was over. I showed him.”

  “That’s it? This was a territorial conflict between two crazy old bums?” Evangeline stammered. “So. . . so you. . . you’re hiding out here, and see me, and just decide it would be fun to send me on a quest to clean up your loose ends?”

  “But my father fell and hit is head. It was an accident,” Roderick blinked.

  Garron looked away. It took Roderick one more blink to turn purple with understanding and lunge.

  “You murdering dog,” he shouted. “You poisoned my father!”

  “Roderick, no!” Evangeline cried, blocking his way. Her husband stopped, stood panting in front of her. He showed how much he loved her by lowering his sword. Evangeline touched his cheek. “He’s my father. I should kill him.”

  She raised her weapon, but Roderick caught and held her arms. “He isn’t worth it.”

  “Maybe not,” she said looking down at her father, “but his sword is.”

  “My sword?” Garron blanched.

  “You mean my mother’s sword? The one she and grandpa paid for when you were supposed to be kidnapped? Yeah! Give it up!”

  Her father laughed. He got to his feet, clapping his hands. “Oh, I didn’t think it was possible, but you are truly worthy to be called my child. So smart. You figured it all out. Well, everything I said before was a lie. I was just testing you to see what you were made of. You are the only one I have found worthy to be my heir and carry on my legacy. I will now go and get your reward.”

  Evangeline shook her head at him.

  “I’ll never tell,” he shrieked.

  She shook her head again and bent over the grave.

  “We’ve been watching you for days,” she told him. “We know where you keep it.”

  She pushed her hand into the soil and felt the shaft of the sword. She pulled it up with difficulty, brought it into the light. It looked exactly like the other one but it was real.

  Her father hurtled toward her. “It’s mine. It’s my own. It’s my precious!” His groin met Evangeline’s booted heel. He crumpled into the fetal position and lay quiet and still.

  “Well, he’s not having any more children,” Roderick winced.

  “Who cares?” Evangeline waved the sword. She let it glint in the light. Roderick grinned. They did a little dance together.

  “We’re going to be so rich. There are about a million carats in that thing,” he giggled.

  Older now and wiser, Evangeline took out a jeweler’s glass and looked the hilt over.

  “Actually, dear, there are only a few hundred,” she corrected, then giddily added, “but that’s more than enough for us to live happily ever after!”

  “Give us a kiss,” Roderick said, grabbing her and swinging her around.

  “Anytime, Brother. Anytime.”

  Dear Reader,

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