Eternally Retold – Part III

"I can say with great certainty that this blade predates the late 17th century" William ("just call me Bill") Coswright mused as he studied the blade intently, absentmindedly running his hand down his peppery beard. His hair was graying at the temples and thinning on top, but despite his age and portly build, he moved with they spry exuberance of a man half his age, particularly when he was excited about something.

The sword, to say the least, excited him greatly. He had it on an examination table and had apparently carelessly brushed aside a number of other items he had been looking at. Given the general disheveled state of his lab, this seemed to be par for the course.

"Predates it? You mean it's a prototype for the epee style?"

"Not necessarily, Steven. The carbon dating tests suggest this blade is substantially old enough that it predates the introduction of the epee style by several centuries."

"That's a fencing blade for sure, though. I would have sworn it was an epee."

"While it is something of a chronological anomaly, it would be reasonable to suggest, at this time, that it may have been a precursor to later adapted styles. The age of the blade suggests that the particular design had been conceived far before our current understanding." Coswright turned the blade over carefully and Decker could see that he was unable to contain his excitement, despite the dry tone of his words.

"Can you really tell how much more?"

"Not precisely. Not with the equipment I have available anyway. I would need to take it to a larger University with more up-to-date facilities in order to get a more exact reading. Offhand I would postulate that the material originates more than five centuries ago, but I would be hesitant to build a theory on it without more precise measurements."

"So you really don't know who made it and when they did it."

"I'm afraid not. I can, however, check with a colleague of mine. He's very learned in ancient weaponry, and he may be able to identify the culture that would have used a material such as that blade seems to be forged from."

Decker frowned. He had known that epee design had developed out of the evolving rules of fencing. The nature of formal fencing duels had eventually coalesced to a few different blade styles that would accommodate the traditional dueling rules. In college, he had stuck with the epee since its design had lent the blade to a more conservative dueling style, and that forthrightness had appealed to him.

The trouble was that the epee hadn't really been seen until relatively recently from a historic perspective. If Coswright's suggestion was correct, this weapon would have serious repercussions on both history and the study of fencing as well. If the blade could be traced back to medieval manufacture, it would mean that this sword had far greater historical significance than he had first assumed.

That, in turn, would mean it had a far greater monetary value than he originally supposed.

On the heels of that, he wondered whether it would really be worth selling such a historically significant item as this sword seemed to be. He could (use it) keep it for himself; perhaps hit the lecture tour…..

But he couldn't let himself get carried away. He said "I really need to get some confirmation on this. How soon do you think you can get in touch with this guy?"

"He does an extraordinary amount of travelling, but I shall consult with him at the soonest possibility. I'll need to take some photographs of the blade as a reference. I advise you to keep it stored safely in the meantime. If we need to examine the blade in person, I'll be sure to inform you."

"That would be fine," Steve replied, and he certainly didn't need to be advised to store it safely.

He went over to reclaim the sword, his mind reeling with the possibilities this information presented. He had to gently nudge Coswright away from the sword, as he had continued to stare in utter fascination at it during their entire talk. He picked it up carefully and…

His mind swirled with fleeting images and he was overwhelmed with a sense of antiquity. There seemed to be no cohesion to the images at first, they flitted by like vague impressions…..a blade being forged from the ore mined out from a mountain, the fires of the forge flickering with a ghostly light…a feeling of an awareness as the blacksmiths hammers rained down relentlessly to shape it…..one man, struggling against insurmountable odds….a woman dressed all in black stabbing someone from behind…..a man screaming as his face transformed into something reptilian….a young girl in green bowing before him and carrying a large bladed hoop….a dark knight in spiny armor striding purposefully through town, his large blade cutting down everyone he passed, the town aflame, people running….

In each image the material of the weapon he held was the same as the epee. Was there a history of blades being made of this material? No, the answer came back to him immediately. The answer was unspoken; it was as if he suddenly knew that they were all either the same sword or weapons comprised from shards of the original.

Image after image ran through his mind (memory), an endless parade of battles, deaths, transformations to unspeakable things, and all through this the sword was the centerpiece, the focal point, the one constant that drew all these myriad threads and lives together.

Through the constant stream of this vision, he began to get a sense of just how ancient this blade was, how rich and violent its history had been. Finally, he saw himself at the estate sale, testing it out, slashing at the air, but now he began to get a sense of his own place in its long history; now he began to get a sense of what everything had led up to.

The enormity of what he was thinking made him tremble and it shook him out of his reverie. He tottered, uncertainly, from the abrupt change in perspective, and for a moment he forgot where he was.

"Are you okay, Steven?" Coswright asked as he grabbed Decker's shoulders to steady him. "You appear to have had a momentary loss of focus."

"I'm okay. I was just…thinking about what you had said" which was true enough. But he was thinking about more than just the dry historical significance of the weapon now. He was thinking it would be ignoble for such a valiant blade to be subjected to being leered at by people with no appreciation for its history.

No, finding a buyer was out. Giving it up to a passionless museum was out. Perhaps he WOULD take it on the lecture circuit and (annihilate everyone) share its history in a more personal way. He'd see what Coswright's colleague would be able to tell him. For now, he just wanted to get out of here. He wasn't entirely comfortable with Coswright's fussing, or with his proximity to the sword. He needed to get it back home where he could keep a watchful eye on it.

He'd keep it safe, that was certain.