


          So the Master of Swords rode until he came to the giant, who was 
     now dressed much like the Master of Swords. 
          The giant roared, "No one shall pass without fighting me. Choose 
     any weapon you like, and I will more than match you!" 
          "I choose swords!" cried the lanky warrior, springing down from 
     his horse. 
          But, just as the warrior was drawing his sword, a sword even 
     longer appeared in the giant's hand. SLASH SLASH SLASH went the giant, 
     and the shirt of the Master of Swords hung in shreds. 
          The tattered warrior dropped his weapon, jumped on his horse, and 
     raced back to the King. 
          When Peddler Polly heard his story, she said, "I declare, it 
     looks like none of the King's men are worth a lick. How am I to make 
     an honest living if I can't even get from Here to There?" 
          "Now, madam, two failures don't make a defeat," said the King, 
     shifting his crown a little to the right. "Guards, send for my most 
     powerful warrior--the Master of Fire!" 



