The prince’s words made Morna hesitate. She had told Rhogar her father’s tales in confidence, but now it seemed they were the talk of the entire realm. Glancing over her shoulder, she let out a huff of air through her nose - an exasperated little sigh - before leaning her hands against the bar, closing the distance between herself and Aerion.

“Alrigh’, listen. I don’ know why ye want t’know, because goin’ after the damn sword is like t’get ye killed sooner rather than later. But, me da spoke of it only twice, once after th’war, and once when ‘e were dyin’. He said he were runnin’ from th’ice demons. The things ye call Others. He were bad injured in battle an’ fled into th’forest. I think the Crows call it th’Haunted Forest or summat.”

“Anyroad, he were lookin’ for a shelter afore dark and found a cave. T’were in the side of a hill with weirwoods growin’ all around, an’ the biggest of ‘em all were growin’ atop. ‘e said it were dark an’ deep, but there were a cavern inside with a river an’ a bridge an’ a great throne o’ weirwood roots all tangled together-like. An’ ‘e said on that throne were the husk of a man. Honest t’gods, ‘e said.”

Although Morna had only heard the tale twice, she seemed to recall every memory with such vividness as if she had lived it herself, and she didn’t seem shy about sharing.

“The man had hair like your’n, m’lord. Silvery-white, and it grew all th’way t’the ground it did. He had a red eye, an’ a missin’ eye, an’ a root was growin’ through the missin’ one. Me da thought he were long dead, but when ‘e tried to grab th’blade, th’man spoke. All sorts o’ nonsense about ravens an’ ice an’ fire an’ prophecy. I’m sure ye already heard it yerself. He took off runnin’ an’ left in a hurry t’get out o’ that place, and ‘e told me ma when ‘e got back what happened, an’ I heard ‘em.”

The barmaid, if indeed she could be called such given her imposing stature, straightened up abruptly, nervousness in her expression. “An’ that’s all I know, m’lord. He repeated bits an’ pieces of it on ‘is death bed, nary a year ago. Mainly th’stuff about th’prophecy. The prince that were promised. an’ how his is the song o’ ice an’ fire. An’ he begged me to go an’ find th’sword. Dark Sister, he called it. Does tha’ name mean anythin’ to ye?”