This is the story of the sword, Gray Maiden. It was forged with magic and mystery in the dim beginnings of time. It saw the rise of Greece, and the crowning of Alexander's fortunes. It was witness to both the majesty and the decay of Rome. It led the rush of Islam. It knew the glories and the agonies of the Old World, and the birth pangs of the New. For generations it lay hidden in tombs or burial mounds, or hung in grim solitude upon the walls of armories. Yet, whenever men turned to war, eager hands reached for it-its shining blade bright in the van of battle-for the Gray Maiden had a secret power. The man who held it could not be killed by any other blade. As some medieval owner scratched in the hard, gray steel: Grey Maide men hail Mee Deathe doth Notte fail Mee