“There was a clatter of steel on stone, and Smith appeared in the doorway. ‘Is there a problem, Sword Girl?’ he asked. ‘No, I’m – I’m fine, thank you, Smith,’ Tommy said. The blacksmith looked from Tommy to the sabre on the floor. ‘What’s that you’re doing? Polishing the Old Wrecks? You needn’t bother with that. The knights never use that lot. They only like new swords, or swords that have been carried into battle. None of those ever ’as been.’ He stumped away. When she was sure he was out of ea...rshot, Tommy picked up the sabre with trembling hands. First a talking cat, and now the swords were talking. Could her mind be playing tricks on her? Perhaps she had sunstroke from the hours she’d spent sweeping the courtyard the day before. Yes, that must be it. But just to be sure she took a deep breath and said, ‘I’m sorry. Did you … did you say something?’ ‘I was just telling Bevan Brumm over there that I was right,’ said the sabre. It was a woman’s voice.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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