Trystan removed Excalibur from the sheath on his back, and, placing it flat across both his palms, held it out in front of him.
“Take it,” Trystan said. “I want you to have it.”
“My king, though I am honored, this sword belongs to you as the rightful heir. I cannot accept such an item as I am not worthy of it,” Marc responded.
Emrys placed his hand upon Marc’s shoulder. “It is for that reason alone that you truly are worthy to carry the sword.”
Trystan smiled at Emrys, silently thanking him. “We both need a weapon that can help fight against dark magic. I have my bow. You will need this sword.”
Marc reached out and took the sword from Trystan with both hands. He took the scabbard from Trystan as well, fastened it to his back, and sheathed Excalibur in it. He grasped Trystan’s hand and pulled him close. “Are you certain?”
Trystan’s eyes locked on Marc’s. “I have a sense you will need it more than I.”
“Then here,” Marc said, removing his other sword from his belt. With gentle hands, he secured it around Trystan’s waist. “You never know when you might have need of one.”
Emrys interrupted. “We best be on our way. Follow close and stay alert. Beyond the rumored giant bark spiders, I have no idea what we might encounter in this desolate land.”
“Giant bark spiders?” Trystan’s eyes roved over the decaying land before them, his insides knotting.
“Yes, and if we’re to believe the rumors and we encounter them, we don’t fight. We run.”
***
Trystan followed close behind Emrys, with Marc right behind him. He kept his bow drawn with an arrow ready as he walked, while Marc had Excalibur in hand, prepared to strike at anything or anyone if necessary. Out in the lead, Emrys poked and prodded the ground before he stepped, using an old tree branch he’d found as a walking stick.
“Step where I step and be especially mindful of the trees,” Emrys cautioned.
“Have you noticed how they move?” Trystan whispered, looking up, observing the trees around them as he stepped carefully.
As Trystan took another step, Marc yelled from behind them. Trystan and Emrys spun around. One of the dead, wooden vines had wrapped around Marc’s leg. It dragged him across the ground away from Trystan and Emrys. Trystan’s heart jolted, thundering in his chest, and he made a move toward Marc. A firm hand gripped his arm, stopping him.
“Don’t,” Emrys warned, tilting his head back a little, his eyes flickering upward.
Trystan followed Emrys’ gaze and swallowed, hard. The trees had shifted, vines slithering like snakes tracking prey.
Clawing at the rocky sand, Marc sat up. With the sword still in his hand, Marc hacked away at the snarled vine. After several attempts, he freed himself from its grasp. Covered in part by ashen sand, Marc jumped to his feet and looked around, prepared for another attack. None came. The withered, cut vine slithered away, back into the rocks.
Trystan and Emrys still stood where they had turned. The distance between them and Marc had grown to about forty feet, but here, in this dreadful place, it felt much farther.
Marc cautiously started to walk back over to them when he saw an unusual, spider-like creature crawl up on a rock near him. He stopped to look at it.
“What is it?” Trystan asked, still held back by Emrys’ hand on his arm. As a precaution, he took aim at it.
Marc flicked his gaze to Trystan for the briefest moment, not wanting to lose sight of the potentially dangerous being. “Another of the cursed beasts. Insect-like.”
“Marc, we need to keep moving,” Emrys insisted. He tugged at Trystan’s elbow.
Trystan held his footing and watched Marc and his surroundings closely.
Marc continued to study the creature. It looked like a mess of twigs connected together, about the size of a small rabbit. Having seen enough, he turned and started to walk back toward Trystan.
The moment he turned, the creature jumped onto him. It hissed as it crawled all around him with incredible speed. Marc ran toward Trystan. With some luck, he was able to swat it away, but not before it managed to bite into his arm. He flinched at the pain. As Marc ran toward them, a swarm of the little beasts as well as several nearly the size of a small bear, rushed in from all directions.
“Emrys. A little magic would be helpful right about now!” Trystan shouted, his voice frantic. He wasn’t sure he had the energy for another battle of any kind right now.
“I cannot. Morgaine could descend upon us within minutes.”
The hissing fiends scrambled toward them, chasing Marc and closing in on Trystan and Emrys.
