"We in trouble?" asked Aella. She stood and arched her back. Barely as tall as his shoulder, Aella stared at him.

Wilson asked, "When did you wake up?"

She laughed, a surprisingly bright sound that always reminded Wilson of the red birds back home. "I asked first."

Gristle cleared his throat with a rumble that sounded like two soft-stones being rubbed together. He looked over at Aella and then back at Wilson. Then he rolled his eyes toward the sky. It was like watching a bad play with a terrible actor in slow motion.

Gristle hated talk of all kinds and he often tried to share that feeling of his through exaggerated facial contortions.

"She never went to sleep?" Wilson asked Gristle.

He nodded his giant head from side to side. And then he looked back down at the enormous sword he held in his hand. Slowly he pulled the stone across the gleaming edge. It was probably sharper than Wilson's own sword had ever been in its entire existence. But Gristle liked the feel of stone in his hands. And he liked his weapons sharp. Wilson smiled at his companions of the past six years. He looked over at Aella. She was not smiling.

"Well?" she asked. She was standing now and her hands were on her hips now.

Wilson smile disappeared in a hurry. "I'm not sure," he answered her. "And I really have no idea what Old Irons wants."

"I'm sure we're in trouble then."

"Maybe not."

Aella sighed with frustration. "Wilson, you know he hates the Roc Riders. And he hates it even more that he depends on us. It rubs at him like a small stone in your shoe on a long, fast march."

Wilson smiled. "Well, right now, we aren't much of anything without our rides."

"Exactly. It probably bothers Old Irons even more that we don't even have any Roc's. He's probably going to send us packing until we can get some real Riders here." She sat back down in her chair. "I can hear him now, 'All I wanted was a pair of Rocs with Riders and what do I get, three misfits without a single Roc between them.'"

"Maybe," said Wilson. "Or maybe he's going to invite us to dinner?"

Gristle grunted. Wilson wasn't sure if it was a grunt of mirth or of frustration with too much talk.

"Well?" said Aella.

"Well what?"

"When can we expect our Rocs to return?"

"I don't know."

"You're the Speaker. You should have asked them before they left."

"I know, I should have. It was so sudden, I completely forgot to ask them," Wilson shrugged with frustration. "I guess I better head on over there right now."

"I'm coming with you," Aella said as she stood up and reached for her sword. She sheathed it in its dark leather scabbard.

Wilson nodded. They walked down the path towards the camp. The air sat heavy and thick. The small sound of stone on metal as it slowly sharped the already sharp blade faded behind them as they walked down the hill.

The Black Oak Sword

Chapter 1: Part 1

Chapter 1: Part 2

Chapter 1: Part 3

Chapter 2: Part 1

Chapter 2: Part 2

Chapter 3:Part 1

Chapter 3:Part 2

© 2017, Stone Golem Publishing

**All pictures used are labeled for reuse. They come from Max Pixel

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