Page 24

The cool porcelain chilled his hand, but his anger ignored the cold until it was no more. Drawing the blade from its sheath, Balamor studied it thoroughly. It was in pristine condition, seemingly unused by its previous owner. Whoever that was didn’t require its protection, but Balamor knew he depended on it.

He held the dagger firmly in his right hand, when he heard the sound of a man shouting in the distance. His voice accompanied by the snarling of horses and creaking of of wooden wheels. Balamor couldn’t make out the mans words, but assumed he was rambling on about the horses angrily.

Balamor searched the road for any escape, hoping he could avoid the man and his caravan until he passed by, but the large cobblestone road was barren. Minutes passed by before the man and his caravan approached the robed hobbit, he held a lit torch in one hand, and the reins of his horse in the other. The man was short for a human, he wore a brown tunic and green pants. His face was narrow and boney but his eyes were wide in excitement. A thin goatee outlined a wide grin as the man spoke.

“Hello there! Rather late to be on the pass alone don’t you think? Ha! But have no worries friend, I am not one of those filthy bandits! You would think they’d be out at night, but no! They wait for the earliest hours of the morning, ha! But not me, and certainly not yourself!”

Balamor began to reply, still holding his dagger in his right hand. But before the words escaped his mouth the short man cut in as he climbed to the ground,

“Oh! I see you carry a very worthy blade! I could tell you quite a few things about that blade.”

The curious hobbit dropped his initial question, and waited for the merchant to continue as he looked down at the blade.

“That fine blade there belonged to a king, the king of Hanson to be exact! How you found such a valuable weapon beats me!"

The short man brushed himself off before peered back at the young hobbit, "But I know of a dagger even more worthy than a king’s dagger!” He laughed to himself as he strolled to the back of his caravan, motioning Balamor to follow.

Balamor’s eyebrows lifted in sudden disbelief as he followed behind

“What kind of dagger is more worthy than that of a king?” Balamor asked

The merchant quickly replied “The kind which has a history, a dagger weilded by a fearsome warrior. A dagger which saved the life of the king, when the king’s could not. A dagger whose blade has seen more men than its hilt. That is the kind of dagger more worthy than that of a king.” 

The End

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