The point drove deep into the creature's breast, and the sword sang with grim satisfaction.

The sword in his hand sang protest, locked still to Erlien's cross guard.

Tell this cursed sword not to sing and pull at me.

I saw the flash of silver as both swords met and sang.

I made my sword sing and they froze.

Their swords sang together, the sound of clashing blades ringing out.

The two swords together sang a tormented note like a bell having its tongue cut out.

"Now will I let my sword sing the mass to the praise of God!"

The sword sang to her of vengeance, and she let a smile cross her lips.

All the swords of his men sang out of their scabbards.