The Orb in the Sword: Chapter 4	Copyright 1998
	-------------------------------	By Ben Christie.
					All Rights Reserved.

	Alone in a vast field, two small, brown tents were
pitched a few meters from a large tree and next to it that a
clear pond rippled with each raindrop. Between the tents lay
a black fire pit, moistened by the rain. The field was
otherwise barren, save a few trees scattered like the stars.
The rain had begun early that morning and was slowly
beginning to die down as the afternoon approached.
Beneath one of the tents, a fox lay on her back, looking up
at the tent's translucent hood, watching the rain drizzle
down its sides. She was dressed in a sleeveless shirt, torn at
the waist exposing her belly and black shorts, covered, both
back and front, by clear, blue cloths. White fur ran from the
insides of her thighs, along her belly and ending at the tip of
her jaw. The rest of her body was covered in a brass
coloured fur, save her feet, paws and the tips of her ears,
which were black and the fur around her green eyes, which
was beige. Attached to her belt, a long narrow sword was
sheathed, next to a small pouch filled with coins of gold and
silver. On her left leg, a small gold bracelet curled around
her ankle.
	The tent flapped violently in the wind. The vixen
looked back at the tent poles, seeing if they would hold in
the sudden breeze. Her eyes narrowed, focusing on another
fox, approaching from the east. She smiled, realizing who it
was and that he was carrying a bag over his shoulder.
	The fox stopped at the fire pit and threw the blood
soaked bag to the ground. "It was hard," he said. "But I
managed to find a deer off in the woods."
	The vixen, having emerged from the tent, grasped
the bag and untied the knot. Inside, strips of bloody meat
were clumped together. She removed one, bit off a chunk
and chewed it down. "It'll do, Graykit," she said, smiling at
him.
	Graykit sat across the pit from her and reached over,
grabbing some meat for himself. "This land is becoming
void of any food. Soon the local townsfolk will have to look
elsewhere for their meals."
	The vixen swallowed another chunk. "That's what
happens when you have five million people living off a
limited food supply. Aren't there any butchers around here?"
	"The closest would be in Miayt, and that's a days
walk now," he replied.
	She grunted and ripped off more meat. "Why didn't
you bring the entire animal?" she asked.
	"I thought it would be easier to clean the carcass
where it lay. Hell, it beats lugging the dead thing a mile back
to camp." Graykit glanced around the camp, then back to
the vixen. "Sash, where my sword?"
	Sasha looked up from the meat. "I put your amazing
discovery in your tent. It's rusted enough as it is."
	He frowned. "You don't like my sword, do you?"
	"It lacks, how do you say, everything a swords
needs like a sharp blade."
	"I don't plan to use it in combat," Graykit
responded.
	"Then what do you plan to do with it?"
	He was about to reply when he realized he was
without one. Instead, he returned his attention back to his
meal and chewed on another piece of deer.
	"Exactly," Sasha smirked, pulling one of the deer
legs from the bag. "It's as useless as a city without people."
The rain had died down to a soft drizzle.
	"There's something strange about that black orb,"
Graykit replied, looking over at his tent. "It reflected
everything, but me when I looked into it at the market place
and it has an eerie glow to it at night."
	"You've been fooled by nothing more then a few
simple magic tricks. Nothing more," Sash said.
	"There's something strange about it," Graykit
reiterated.
	She threw the remains of the leg into the fire pit. "As
I recall, the orb reflected your face clearly when you
showed the stupid thing to me this morning."
	"It must have been the rain," Graykit said. He
crawled into his tent and grabbed the sword. "Here, I'll
show you again, now that the rain's died down."
	Sasha frowned as he moved closer with the sword
and displayed the orb so both of them could see its
reflection clearly. Graykit leaned in over the orb and looked
down into it. The orb's clear surface reflected the overcast
sky above. It also reflected Graykit's beige face.
	"Dammit!"
	"I told you," Sasha remarked. "It was a mere trick
performed by the merchant who sold you that worthless
sword. A scam, which you say you know so much about.
You'll be lucky if the blade cuts grass."
	Graykit gave a low growl and threw the old, sword
to the ground. The sword's blade struck the dirt, skipped
and landed in the grass. Graykit sat next to his tent and
threw his meat back in the bag. Sasha moved next to him
and patted the wet fur on his shoulder. "Don't worry
Graykit. I'm sure if you take the sword to a blacksmith,
you'll probably get twenty, maybe thirty golds for the
metal." She chuckled.
	Graykit pulled his shoulder away and Sasha stood 
and walked to her tent. A meter away from him lay the rusty, 
iron sword covered partly by grass. He reached over, picked 
it up and looked at the orb again seeing his own reflection. 
"Why didn't you reflect my face at the Grand market?" He 
sighed. The rain has stopped and a ray of sunlight broke 
through the clouds overhead. Graykit looked into the blue 
sky, then over at Sasha who was lying under her tent 
starring back. He looked away quickly and slid the sword 
back into his tent.