Swordheart (Swordheart, #1)

by T. Kingfisher

She … wasn’t in the room. Bartholomew looked at him, fingers wrapped around the hilt, holding the sword a few inches out of the scabbard.

Oh shit

And then he knew. Bartholomew reached out, put his finger on the tip of the blade, and pushed it aside. “She gave the sword away,” he said. “You heard her. And now I am the one who wields you.” Sarkis went berserk.

NOOOOO

Sarkis blinked the darkness out of his eyes and looked up into Nolan’s face. He’s in it with Bartholomew. They planned this. This is why they came to the town. Not to help Halla at all.

Oh my god 😭

It’s mostly my pride that’s wounded. Pride is all a respectable widow has left. It was not the sword that compelled him to be kind to you, but it was not the sword that made him lie, either. Or seduce you.

“Why are you two here? I don’t care if Sarkis left—” Liar. You care very very much. “—I still don’t want to see either of you again.”

“Carrying on? Oh yes, there was carrying on!” Halla could hardly believe what she was about to say, but she suspected it was her only chance. “We carried on like you wouldn’t believe! He bedded me in half the inns from here to Archon’s Glory!” Alver recoiled, eyes the size of saucers. “And I enjoyed it!”

Halla 😂 what a queen 👏🏼

“And I’m pregnant!” shouted Halla, throwing caution to the winds. Aunt Malva stepped in and slapped Halla across the face. Halla slapped her right back.

I can’t stop cackling 😂💀

“You were right, too.” “What?” “He does have clammy hands.” “Ugh, I know.”

😂😂😂

“I didn’t want to get pregnant. I don’t want children. Not his, not Alver’s, not anybody’s.” Zale gave a very unpriestly snort. “That’s easily avoided. Just sheathe the sword after he … ah … sheathes the sword. As it were.”

“Look, we did the experiments, didn’t we? You saw them, too. Just … um. Look, his … uh … that is … his seed is like the rest of him, isn’t it? If you sheathe the sword, it should just go back in the sword. Like a severed tongue.” They coughed. “If you’re really worried, you could test it. Have him … um … you know … in a jar … and then…”

Oh my god 💀😂

“I’m an idiot…” she said, and felt tears start to threaten at last. “You were angry,” said Zale. “Few of us are at our best when we are angry.” They glanced up at her. “And it is very likely that idiocy saved you a great deal of unpleasantness.”

“What if he won’t give the sword up, though?” asked Halla. “Sarkis can’t force him, if he’s the wielder.” “Then I fear that you and I will have to kill him,” said Zale. Halla looked at Zale. The silence stretched out until it was intolerably loud. “Do you remember what happened last time?” said Halla. “When we had to hide the bodies?” “Yes, but we’re bound to get better with practice.”

BYE 💀

She was mostly just bemused at how Zale had gone from throwing up in the bushes to coolly plotting murder. She was even more bemused that she seemed to be going along with it. It’s for Sarkis. You have to get him back. He’s been kidnapped. If you’ve got to kill the kidnapper, that’s just how it is. No use dithering. Get to work.

“What does your order even want with me, anyway?” “You’re the only person living who met our founder,” said the scholar. He smiled nervously, tucking his hair behind his ears. “The Sainted Smith. The woman who put you in the sword.”

It occurred to Halla that he was actually trying to appeal to her for sympathy. She didn’t know if she should play along in hopes he’d give in or just kick him very hard in the shins.

Kick him in the shins.

“Well, and the lock on that door is broken. Sarkis kicked it open.” “Of course he did.” Halla burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it. “He is quite magnificent, isn’t he?” Zale shook their head, but they were smiling. “I am very glad that you two have found each other. I fear I am too fond of my doors and my locks to be envious.” “Have we found each other? It seems like we made a mess of it.”

“You keep your nasty clammy hands off my nieces, you slimy, weak-willed little shitweasel!” “Don’t talk to my son like that!” “That goes for you, too, you horrible screeching harpy!”

What a queen!! 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

“Mother!” he screamed, clutching at the wound, while blood poured down his arm. “Mother, she—” “I saw, you useless sponge!” snapped Malva. She snatched up a frying pan and charged forward. I am going to die fighting with kitchen utensils, thought Halla.

They’re so dramatic 😂

She ducked the first swing and then Zale punched Malva in the nose.

YES ZALE

Malva reeled back, dropping the frying pan and grabbing her face. “Alvhgher! Arh you goingh to let them doo thgat?” “She stabbed me! I’ve been stabbed!”

I CANT BREATHE 😂😂😂

To her surprise, Brindle leaned over and licked her cheek. “A human will get her mate back. Be easy.” Halla flushed, as much in surprise as embarrassment. “He isn’t … I mean, I don’t know if he’s … not that I wouldn’t like him to be, but…” Brindle rolled his eyes. “Humans can’t smell.” Halla waited politely, but apparently this was a complete thought, and Brindle lapsed back into silence.

Halla looked more closely and saw the closed eye symbol on the tabards. Paladins of the Dreaming God. Of course. That would explain why all three were rather relentlessly pretty in a chiseled heroic-statue sort of way. The Dreaming God was well known for His taste.

He kissed the back of her hand. The number of men who could get away with kissing a woman’s hand, in Halla’s experience, were exactly zero, but now she had to change the number. Apparently if you were six feet tall and chiseled and capable of killing demons, you had the presence to pull it off. Unaccountably, she blushed. Dammit, the paladins were pretty, and yet … and yet …

It never hurts to have the Dreaming God’s folk on your side. They’re dumb as posts and single-minded to the point of suicide about demons, but if you want someone with a very large sword to stand between you and the enemy, they truly have no equal.”

Had he really just written, “Please stay safe”? As if she were a chance acquaintance met on the road? She’d be in her rights to wad it up and serve it back to me on the point of a dagger. What else could I say? I love you. I will always love you, as long as this cursed steel endures.

😭🥺🥲

I must find a way back to her. I must not fail. This time, great god, please do not let me fail.

“You do make far too many biscuits,” Zale agreed. “And the bandits stole them!”

😂😂😂

“Can you believe it?” Halla demanded. “If they’d just asked for biscuits, I would have given them some! It’s not like they stay fluffy past the second day! You have to eat them up, or they get hard as rocks. Well, you know.” Judging by the look on the Motherhood captain’s face, he did not know. “I don’t—” he started to say, but Halla had the bit between her teeth now. “And it was my grandmother’s recipe! My grandmother’s! They stole my grandmother’s biscuits, can you imagine? What kind of depraved mind steals a woman’s extra biscuits?”

I LOVE HALLA 💀😂

“Mistress Halla, are you a witch?” “I don’t think so,” said Halla. “I’m not actually sure what a witch does, but I assume you don’t just fall into it sideways. I’m mostly a housekeeper.” “And she can patch up injured goats,” said the female paladin, sounding very amused. “And occasionally injured paladins.”

Sarkis swam up out of the silver sword-dreams, and discovered that he was looking at a corpse. More specifically, he was looking at Bartholomew’s corpse. There was quite a large knife buried in his back, and he was face down on a cluttered table that Sarkis recognized from their previous visits. “I gather you’re the wielder now?” he said to Nolan, studying the corpse dispassionately.

Oh boy

“So what are you doing with the corpse?” he asked. Why is so much of my life these days related to corpse disposal?

Sarkis had eyes only for one person. “Halla,” he said.

🥹😍

A small, unworthy part of Sarkis was overcome with relief. She did not hate him. Indeed, she had chased down his captors and was offering everything that she had to get him back. A much larger part was screaming that yes, she was giving up everything she had—her home, her newly acquired fortune, the future dowries for her nieces that Sarkis had not even met—to buy him back from the scholar.

“You’re not a killer,” said Nolan, although he sounded a bit doubtful. “Well, obviously not yet,” said Halla. “But I can start with you, and then I will be. I think that’s how this works, isn’t it?”

FUCKING QUEEN

“Please don’t move. I’ve never shot at anything but trees, you see, and while my aim’s not bad for an amateur, if you move, I don’t really know where I’ll hit you. It could be anywhere. And then what if it wasn’t fatal?” “I don’t want it to be fatal!” yelled Nolan. “Oh, but you do,” said Halla. “You really, really do. Because if I hit you somewhere that doesn’t kill you, but it just hurts a whole lot, then I’ll have to finish you off, right? And I don’t have any idea how to do that, so I’ll just be stabbing you in random places with a knife until I hit a good one.”

I love her

The great god have mercy. She’s found a way to weaponize ignorance.

“That doesn’t matter now. I’m begging you. Please run away or back away or drop the crossbow, or something. If I have to kill you defending this bastard…” He trailed off. He didn’t know how to finish. It will destroy me. It will gut me. Every time someone draws the sword, I will look for you, and when you aren’t there, I will remember that you’re gone and that I failed you twice over and I will pray for the great god to grant me a quick death.

He could not kill his wielder. He had to defend his wielder against all threats. His wielder would make him kill the woman he loved. I will kill him, thought Sarkis. I will destroy him. I will pull him apart, joint by joint, bone by bone. I will carve him up into a thousand pieces to make the dying last. I will hurt him until he hurts like I hurt.

😭😭😭

I will kill him. I will end him. I will find a way to destroy him. I am the greatest threat. The magic wavered. He had only a moment, but a moment was all that he needed. Sarkis flipped his sword around, set the point under his sternum, and threw himself at the ground.

WHAT

“I’d rather not torture you,” said Halla. “I’m not really a person who does that. But you’ve killed Bartholomew and kidnapped my friend and I think I could probably figure out how to be that sort of person very quickly.”

“Stop her!” screamed Nolan at the priest. “No,” said Zale. “But I’ll hold you down for her. I think that will make it easier for everyone, don’t you? It’ll be over faster that way. I don’t think any of us want to draw this out, do we?”

I love Zale!!

“You release the sword to me? You renounce all ownership?” Halla wasn’t sure what words he had to say to make it official. “Yes, yes! All of it! It’s yours, I release it!” “Thank you,” said Halla, lowering the knife. “I don’t think you have to thank him,” said Zale. “Since he stole the sword to begin with.” “Seems rude otherwise.” “Well, Rat forbid we be rude.”

Zale smiled. “I fear you’re stuck with Brindle and me until we sort out exactly how much your inheritance is worth. And then you will probably be stuck with us even longer, albeit at a remove.” “What?” Their smile grew, although the edges of it twisted. “Bartholomew left everything to Silas and never updated his will. They haven’t read it officially, but the clerk here took me aside and told me. So I fear you’ve inherited his estate, too. I assume you’ll want me to sort that out as well?”

Now she’s RICH RICH omg

There was nothing to do but wait and see if tragedy would strike or not. Tragedy already struck, she thought wearily. He gutted himself to save you. What more do you want? In the songs, men always say they’d die for you. I suppose there’s something to be said for the fact that you found one who actually did. Surely he’ll come back. Surely it’s just another mortal wound, and after a few weeks in the sword, he’ll come out again.

“Oh dear,” said Halla. Apparently he’d said that out loud. “I stabbed him, you see, and … oh, not very well!” She held up her hands, as if apologizing. “In the arm. He screeched like a chicken laying a particularly large egg, and then I know I was probably supposed to stab him again, but there didn’t seem to be much point.” Rage at Alver had dampened his libido somewhat, but Halla’s cheerful expression, and the mimed stabbing, woke it again. Great god, but he loved her. She was so absurd and so dear, and also it seemed she was capable of stabbing kidnappers and then being matter-of-fact about it. Also, he could apparently make love to her without fear.

“And as I am now a wealthy enough widow to be automatically respectable, I do not need to worry about having a very handsome lover lurking around the house.” “I’ll kill him,” said Sarkis. “I meant you, wretch.”

He scowled at her, clearly deep in thought, then said, “Marry me.” Halla blinked at him, not sure if she’d heard correctly. “If you marry me, you won’t be eccentric. No, dammit, this is coming out wrong. Marry me to marry me, not because of your neighbors. I’ll kill your neighbors.” “I’d rather you didn’t,” said Halla, focusing on the one bit that she could make sense of. “I like most of them.” “Fine, then I will glare at them. But you should still marry me anyway. I mean, you shouldn’t, really, you can do much better, although given what I’ve seen of the men in your land…”

MY HEART 😭😭😭

“Are you asking me to marry you?” He gave her an exasperated look. “Yes. Of course. Because—oh, great god’s balls, I don’t even know how to marry you in this country.”

OMFG 💀

“We do it the other way around. The woman provides a dowry so that the husband will take her.” The resulting mutter was louder and sounded a bit like Silas’s bird. “How barbaric.” “Well, I haven’t got a family and you haven’t got any money, so can’t we just ignore that?” He bristled. “I will not steal you!”

He’s so befuddled I love it 😂

“Sarkis, I’ve chased you from pillar to post and then you had to fall on your sword and—and—can’t this all just cancel out?” She could tell by his scowl that it did not, in fact, cancel out.

He’s so distraught 😭👏🏼