She'll have a hold on me-but she'll protect me from things I not only don't understand, but might not detect until it's too late. And the
Healing-that's damned important. If I'm hurt, I may not be able to get to a Healer, but I won't have to if I have her.
Not such a bad trade, really. And since Elspeth had already been Chosen, perhaps the hold would be that much less. Gwena would surely help fight it; she could be very possessive when she wanted to be.
Another good reason to take the blade suddenly occurred to her. One that Kero might not have thought of If I don't find a mage-I'm a woman, and Mother's a woman. How well would this magic sword work against Ancar, I wonder?
Given that scenario, how could she not, in good conscience, accept the blade?
Without hesitation, she pulled Need from her sheath.
For a moment, nothing at all happened.
Then-Time stopped; a humming, somehow joyful, gleeful, filled the back of her head. It is just like being Chosen, she thought absently, as the blade glowed for a moment, the fire coalescing into script, runes that writhed, then settled into something she could actually read.
Woman's Need calls me, as Woman's Need made me, she read, as her eyes watered from the fiery light. Her Need will I answer, as my Maker bade me.
The runes writhed again-then faded, the moment she had the sense of them. The hum in the back of her mind stilled, and Time hiccupped, then resumed its stately progress.
'What the hell was that supposed to mean?' she demanded, as soon as she could speak again.
Kero shrugged. 'Damned if I know,' she admitted. 'Only the gods know her history now. Grandmother said that's what happens when she gets into the hands she wants. But that, my dear, is the first time she's roused since I brought her inside the borders of Valdemar.' Elspeth slid the blade gingerly into her sheath.
Her. I doubt I'll ever call her 'it' again...'What happens when I take her outside Valdemar?' she asked with trepidation. There had been such a feeling of power when Need had responded to her-a feeling of controlled strength, held back, the way a mastiff would handle a newborn chick.
And I'm not sure I like feeling like a newborn chick!
'I don't know,' Kero admitted. 'She hasn't been outside Valdemar for a long time. Whatever happens, you're going to require her, of that much I'm certain.'
'But what about you?' Elspeth was forced by her own conscience to ask. 'Where does that leave you?' Kero laughed. 'The same as before; I haven't ever depended on her to bail me out of a tough spot. And to tell you the truth, I don't think I'm going to be seeing anything worth being protected against.'
'And I am.' Elspeth made that a statement.
'I'd bet on it.' Kero nodded, soberly. 'I'll tell you this much; while she's given me trouble in the past, she's always been worth the having.
I may not have depended on her, but she's bailed me out of things I could never have gotten myself out of alone. I feel a lot better knowing you have her.' I-' Elspeth stopped at a loss for words.' Kero, 'thanks' just doesn't seem adequate... '
'oh, don't thank me, thank her,' Kero grinned. 'She picked you, after all.'
'I'm thanking you anyway.' Elspeth hugged her, sword and all, then bade her a reluctant farewell. It was hard saying good-bye; a lot harder than she thought it would be. She stood with the sheathed sword in her hands for a long time after Kero was gone.
Finally Elspeth buckled the swordbelt over her tunic, and wriggled a little to settle Need's weight. Once in place, the sword felt right; most swords took some getting used to, they all weighed differently, their balance on the hip or in the hand was different.
But most swords aren't magic.
The thought was unsettling; this was the stuff of which ballads and stories were made, and although Elspeth had daydreamed herself into a heroine when she was a child, she'd given up those daydreams once she achieved her Whites.
I thought I had, anyway.
