《A Dragon's Mercy - Second Arc of The Scalesong Sagas》 Chapter 1 - Daughter of the Mountains A chill wind filled Siegyrd¡¯s lungs and pulled his cheeks into a broad smile as he leaped from the precipice of the highest mountain at the Crown of the World. His silver hair waved in the wind as he turned his back to the earth and caught a last glimpse across the broad courtyard of the cavern entry large enough to swallow a city. The mountain rose above him with titanic majesty draped in a cloak of azure sky. His mercurial silver eyes danced like diamonds in an angled face covered in flesh the color of gray-sky snow. He leaned back and placed his hands behind his head as he fell ¨C whistling to himself. A brilliant sun bloomed weakly in the boreal sky as Siegyrd careened farther away from the cliff¡¯s face, and the mountain stood taller above him by the moment. He wore no shirt, and silver sheen scales shone on his skin. The rushing air tugged at his baggy trousers as he fell, but the pants gripped his ankles with perfect chastity above bare feet which tapped the empty air to an unheard tune. As the earth rose to meet him, Siegyrd arched his back and pulled his feet above him, head down, speeding his descent to the earth as he transformed. # The tumult of their shouts reached her ears from long down the frigid valley. ¡°Hurry, Gudrun!¡± the man¡¯s voice was strained, his strong hand gripping hers vice-like. With one hand, she pulled her thick fur tight against her light-skin and ran toward the village, her feet cloying in the thick snow. She replied between heaving breaths. ¡°Kal, I can¡¯t.¡± She took a deep breath, stumbled. She dug in and ran harder, pulled along by Kal. ¡°Hear that?¡± Kal¡¯s voice slipped with fear, and he let go of Gudrun¡¯s hand. She stumbled again but caught herself and stopped and stood as tall as she could gulping the cold air. Her hood fell back to reveal locks of flaming red hair braided with simple cords. The man¡¯s strong features were punctuated by a light blonde beard as he looked back and spoke, his hair echoing between red and gold. ¡°Wait out of sight. I¡¯ll call if it¡¯s safe.¡± He pulled off his slung pack piled high with gathered firewood and dropped it in the snow. ¡°I¡¯m coming!¡± She shouted, and he hissed for her to be quiet. He drew in close and kissed her on the forehead, then hugged her, ¡°Dad¡¯d kill me if I let you go, little bird. Be ready to fly.¡± She opened her mouth to oppose him, but he gave her a stern look with coppery-green eyes filled with concern. She breathed out hard and huffed into silence. He nodded and turned away to run up the small hill that concealed the village. She watched as he reached the rise, looked back, then disappeared over it. She hunched down out of sight behind the wood. A scent of burning struck her nostrils, and a haze gathered around her. Shouts punctuated the sounds of a confused cacophony. She bit her lip and wrung her hands for as long as she could bear, then a scream tore open the air above her. She burst up the hill without thought. She summitted into billows of smoke and the clear sounds of a battle. Brands clashed, and battleaxes crashed. In between strong gusts of frigid air she caught glimpses. A large man with a twisted half-mask swung his sword through Ander, the grocer¡¯s son, laughed and moved past, as smoke concealed all but his cries. The thunk of a crossbow bolt produced an unsettled silence soon after. Gudrun froze. Feeble hunting arrows struck another raider¡¯s ironwood shield with dull threats, and screaming raiders rode through on heavy horses cutting down the archer. The crackling of a delighted fire danced deviously through the mountain coolness spreading from home to home. A wave of heat warmed her face already red with cold. The scene blurred to madness in her mind. Swarms of strangers poured like insects over the dying corpse of her home and were then veiled in a choking smog. At the edge of the battle, Kaleo burst through the smoke toward her, weaving strangely through the snow as arrows rained around him appearing from small punctures in the haze. It was some fifty paces to him, and she started to move, but heard his shouting, ¡°RUN!¡± She cried out, ¡°Kaleo!¡± She coughed and choked, still she ran down the hill toward the burning village and the great mass of murderous madmen. Kaleo shouted back at her waving frantically, ¡°By all the¡­¡± He stumbled, his voice cut short. His steps faltered. He gathered his strength. ¡°RUN!¡± Kaleo shouted with an immense pain in his voice. He limped forward two more steps before collapsing in the snow to his knees. Something struck him, and he tottered forward. Gudrun could see him mutely mouthing, looking at her with eyes of pain. A strong wind rose behind her and sent the smoke and haze into a full retreat down the hill. ¡°NO!¡± Gudrun screamed as she ran faster down the hill spitting all the curses she could muster like cackling sparks from a wetwood fire. Kaleo half-smiled and fell face forward into the snow, his back filled with bolts. She screamed like a banshee from nightmare stories as she ran at the nearest group of raiders some fifty paces away drawing a small skinning dagger from her belt. The man with the half mask and horned helm saw her and smiled his half smile with half his heart. He stepped toward her once and yelled to her in a language she didn¡¯t know. He stopped and looked up. He stopped and yelled again, shielding his eyes as a shadow filled the valley. He stumbled back, pointing at Gudrun. She ran and screamed with lunatic fury. She stumbled, but continued, blade held high, knuckles white around the hilt. A whole host of enemies shouted, many dropping bows and throwing down swords, others fleeing in panic. She was twenty paces from them now. Her hair whipped wildly from another powerful gust that pressed her forward. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. The masked man shouted once more and turned and fled. Gudrun felt an instinct to pursue like a violent thirst inside her. She licked her lips, and suddenly she was skyward her feet running against empty air beneath her. She felt strong pressure around her shoulders and hips. The whole world dropped away from beneath her as if pulled by some cosmic illusionist, and she was carried high above. The village and smoke and enemies and friends and family fell to great distance beneath her. She stared downward as she careened sideways, feeling her stomach rise with the rapid weight shift. She passed through a cloud of lazy white and blinked beyond it to see the brilliant landscape of sky kissing earth below. She looked up, and dropped the dagger in her hand as all her muscles relaxed into a state of utter confusion. # Raiders crawled their way out of the snow groaning and tried to regroup. The masked man pulled off his mask and a helmet with a single horn in the center, and watched as a dragon larger than the whole of the village flew away carrying the last woman of the village into a brilliant blue horizon. The man¡¯s cold blues eyes narrowed, and it was all he could do to stop himself from shaking in the snow. # Gudrun gawked at silvery scales as large as her head that interlocked in concentric patterns. On the edges of the scales, translucent crystalline structures caught the rays of light and sent them forth in rainbows of color which danced and played to the next scale and the next and the next. Her eyes were wide and unblinking. Her jaw hung open. She looked down, the world below like a distant painting. She looked back up and squinted at the thing that carried her. Its head was the size of a house at least, and great crystalline spikes jutted from its jaw like spears of ice in a patterned beard. She tried to scream for help, but whipping winds swept her breath away. The cold closed in with tight embrace. Do not fear, as best you can, daughter of the mountains. Enjoy what few of your kind will ever witness. The voice within her swelled and filled her with warmth, a kindness bursting with delight. The tenor of it shook her and held her gently there. Her fear fled giving way to wonder, and, despite herself, she smiled. Her smile faded shortly, and thoughts began to race like painful lightning through her skull as the manic energy of the moment slipped from her. She tried to speak back through her mind, but a subtle melody played through the dragon¡¯s scales, and she felt herself emptied of strength. She tried to fight the weight of sleep, struggling with her whole body, but, at last, she drooped and fell into a slumber as the dragon glided northward. # Gudrun opened her eyes to a brightly lit gallery. She lay on a hasty bed of soft furs beneath a globe of purest light, as if a sun made miniature, which hung from a ceiling hundreds of paces above her. She sat up, shrugging away sleep¡¯s attempts to pull her back down with loving arms. She blinked and breathed. Her breath fogged the air around her. In front of her, a hoard of treasures sparkled with gold and silver, with gems cut like hearts and heads and hands, stones carved into animals she had only heard described in bardic tales. The pile was as tall as a small hill. She jolted as she saw the enormous creature that lay there. Its face was clear among the treasures, though much of its form was hidden amidst the gleaming. It looked directly at her with eyes of clouded platinum surrounding a multifaceted diamond shaped iris that glowed with an inner light of shifting colors. The young woman looked at the dragon, torn between wonder and terror and then spoke, her voice barely a whisper. ¡°Where am I?¡± ¡°A home, daughter of fresh sorrow.¡± The dragon¡¯s voice set the whole cavern quaking. The woman looked around, not really seeing anything, but searching, ¡°Where are they? Why didn¡¯t you save them?¡± ¡°I saved you.¡± The breath from his mouth was the north wind. She felt the chill and shivered, ¡°But why not stop the raiders? You could have crushed them!¡± Her voice gained strength, and her confused anger pumped fire through her veins as she stood on the bed of furs. ¡°You could have saved them! You could have done more!¡± ¡°I saved you.¡± His voice was softer this time, though it rattled the coins of silver and gold beneath him. ¡°You kidnapped me! Kaleo was, I have to help him! He was wounded! Take me back! I¡¯ll kill them all.¡± She looked around, memory imposing itself on her vision. The creature hummed a deep singular note that gave the impression of a concerned mountain. The woman raved, ¡°Do any of them live? Kaleo? Ander? Father? Step-mother?¡± her fury and sorrow comingled in tears which froze as they fell upon the cavern floor. ¡°You! Kill them all, or save them, or. Why? How?¡± Her words and phrases were chopped short by confusion¡¯s rough hatchet. The dragon weathered her sorrowed storm with repeated hums of regard. Soon, her strength gave way to sobs, which gave way to a collapse, and there on her knees she whispered, in a voice barely above a rabbit¡¯s paw in fresh snow, ¡°Just kill me too.¡± The roar she received in response sent arcing shockwaves through her body. Her heart banged out a dynamo drum in her ears and behind her eyes, cheeks flush with cold and blood. Her hair bristled and flesh rippled with terror. She pulled herself back from the dragon, scrambling against the furs until her back struck a large bookcase where she huddled with hands over her ears, eyes clamped tight. She feared her bones would crack beneath the weight. When the last reverberation faded, she felt herself on the edge of a great chasm of the universe as it tilts into endless terror and thought, I don¡¯t want to die. ¡°Feel that, daughter of snow and ice and beloved father, mother, brothers, sisters, friends.¡± The dragon¡¯s voice echoed through the gallery as he stood, filling the cavern, sending treasures flying in all directions which glimmered in the light of the false sun, blinked, and returned to their place in the hoard. He stepped forward with a giant claw that filled twenty paces of a man, ¡°Feel the pulsing of your life within your veins, the chill of sweat upon your skin. Feel it! Feel your inner heart, bursting with that sorrow but also with a mad hope at something more.¡± He took another step, his colossal back arched like a lion ready to the hunt, ¡°Feel terror, exhilaration, joy, feel it. Look at me!¡± He pressed his long neck forward and brought his enormous face within a few feet of the young lady as she opened her eyes and blanched at his closeness, eyes locked on one of his giant eyes that was larger than her whole body. The supernova radiance within burned with dazzling power. ¡°Feel your life, and ask me again to kill you.¡± His voice was an avalanche of sound. She exploded into horrendous tears, ¡°Please, don¡¯t. Please. Please.¡± Her body shook from an earthquake sourced in her soul, and she buried her face in her hands. She wheezed and wept, chest heaving. Then she felt her shoulders covered with a warm blanket of thick wool, and a soft sound like wind through an aeolian harp played around her. She dared not open her eyes, but she could feel the blanket tugged around her by gentle hands and brought together in the front. She warmed, and a close scent of wool mixed with sage and pine made her feel at home. She reached up and drew the blanket closer as she opened her eyes. There before her was a man of chalk white skin covered in ghosted silver scales, his eyes the same eyes as those of the creature minus the iris. Her eyes widened with recognition, ¡°You¡­¡± He spoke softly, ¡°I have oft known fear to be a match for mad despair. You live, daughter of the mountains. Speak not of seeking death, for where life abides there grows hope as well.¡± Chapter 2 - Justice Delivered Siegyrd stood over the sleeping form of Gudrun in his human form. The gallery¡¯s sun dimmed high above. He sighed, and anger played on the edges of his lip. He walked away from her toward the very back of the cavern where a black blade hovered in an aura of hungering shadow. He reached for it, then pulled his hand back as memory filled him. # The giant sword was driven like a stake in the spine of the world atop the wicked mountain. Its blade exuded darkness as a thing visible. Though you love the light you will be our blade in darkness. One day you will repay, but you will be free. Do you agree to our compact? The violent voice spoke directly into Siegyrd¡¯s mind. A sickly sun scorched gray-streaked skies above him. The world beneath its rays was starved of light. From the pinnacle of that evil world, Siegyrd could see shattered wastes which drove into an endless muteness beneath where mists and shadows ruled. ¡°You will free me, or I will fill your world of woe with songs of delight.¡± Siegyrd¡¯s voice was a low threat. The laughter that responded shook Siegyrd to his core, even in memory. It was the raucous rattling of hordes of maniac men delighted on their way to doom. Skald, we thrill for the challenge of a new world, and you have need of us, of our power to return ¨C home. The sound of gluttonous lips smacking echoed in Siegyrd¡¯s head. Siegyrd shivered, and looked all around once more, surveying the drab display of the broken world. He had been warned. ¡°I would wield your darkness with the light¡¯s intent, suffer your evil only as a means to good.¡± Another laugh, mirthful and alien. Of course you will, Skald. We will not yield to you though, not entire. ¡°Nor I to you. The struggle will be long, darkling. Release me!¡± Then our compact is sealed. # Siegyrd reached out again the cavern around him, and grasped the ebonblade, hearing the old voice in his head. Skald, how deliciously angry you are. Siegyrd flinched and half-closed one eye as he drew the ebonblade from its floating sheath. He grit his teeth and sighed as his body recoiled. He rested the blade flat across his bare shoulder, and his eyes, normally bright with silver fire, cracked with interlacing webs of night. As he walked past the woman sleeping on the bed of furs, an icy chill caused her to draw them more tightly to herself. Fear strode through the gallery adorned in a veil of rage. His silvery hair hung low upon his back, and the scales in his skin flickered between dark and light. Gudrun was awake, but she dared not open her eyes. She wanted to disappear into the folds of fur as a child¡¯s ward against fear. His padding, barefoot steps reached the edge of the cavern far out. There was a whooshing of strong wind, and all was still. The air lost its pallor of fear, and she took a breath. She opened her eyes and looked around. The light filled the whole place with blinding radiance. She had noticed little the day before, but now she saw rows of shelves and various pieces of furniture of a make and usage she did not recognize with cloth-of-gold and cloth-of-silver draping. She stood and walked toward the shelves which were arrayed into a series of walkways toward the back which led to a giant curtain as tall as three houses next to a large carving in the immaculate walls. The curtain hung from rods of iron driven into the rock and ice of the cavern wall. The floor was smooth and seamless. It reflected the light from the false sun but also seemed to capture it within for some future purpose. She walked on a sea of living glass. Books dominated the shelves, some bound in leather as thick as her arms, others dainty scrolls of parchment frightened of the lightest touch. In some remaining space, a statue of a strange four-headed creature stood prominently on a pedestal, and what looked like a giant spearhead made of prismatic glass the size of a boreal bear rested in the gaps between tomes bound with folded gold. She walked on and saw gems the size of her head cut into magnificent, faceted glory. A slim sword made entirely of what looked to her like amethyst floated feet above the ground near another shelf. It spun in graceful slowness. Weapons lined one wall including long spears with leaf blades carved with tree patterns, paired short swords with curved blades sharing a single sheath, hammers made fit for the gauntlets of giants, and hand axes gilt and engraved with runic markings that sparked in blinding flashes. She turned down another row and saw a porcelain sculpture shaped like the hips of a woman but hollow and filled with what looked like golden sand. On a shelf to her left a contraption of spinning bulbs filled with different liquids danced with a satisfied whirring. She caught a whiff of sweetness in the air as she passed. Symbols and writings adorned almost everything in what she assumed were writings from many languages she had never known. They were scrawled on the bindings of the books and scrolls, the edges of the artifacts, carved into portions of the hard darkwood shelves. Some glyphs simply hung in the air as luminescent wisps written on semi-solid air. She reached toward one, which brightened at proximity, then pulled her hand back, shaking her head. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. At the end of the gallery was the great veil and a large carving. The carving was of a great dragon with shining rays around it. The creature¡¯s head bowed slightly as if listening intently to someone whose image was worn away by time. Ancient writing in a script foreign to her glowed faintly beneath the carving. She examined it closely and a voice echoed softly through her mind as if reading to her, Dravok naa, masni. She winced as the words tried to translate themselves to her like living things longing to explain. She stumbled back a step rubbing her eyes and heard aloud, as if whispered, ¡°Live well, friend.¡± She turned but no one stood there, a pressure building in her forehead. She turned aside to the massive curtain which must have weighed more than all the livestock of her village. That thought made her face fall, but she shook it off and approached. She could not push it aside, so tried to find a way around. After a short, fruitless search, she knelt to look at the base. A tiny space, a finger¡¯s width high, separated the bottom of the curtain from the floor. She sank low onto her hands and knees. She felt the chill from the floor and craned her neck downward to investigate the room beyond. # Far below and many leagues away, Siegyrd stood at the entrance to a small town. Its keep was made of thick timbers and roofed with solid wood that could be seen rising above the spiked wall of jagged fencing which surrounded the broader town. On his flight he had witnessed half a dozen or more burned villages around this one. This was the first untouched town. He knew why as its fields were fat with the heavy scent of livestock, and storehouses creaked under the weight of pilfered harvests. He stood before the closed gate in the early morning before the rising of the sun. He sniffed at the air. The sweet smells and aromas of the festivities lingered and mixed rank urine and sweat and myriad spices and wisps of smoke from the low-burning embers of cook fires. The price for your freedom is overdue. We demand them, Skald, with interest. ¡°Save your threats.¡± You underestimate our reach. ¡°Your reach is only so far as my arm allows.¡± Siegyrd inhaled. His chest expanded as if he would swallow the sky. His eyes sparked with luminescent sapphire. Glacial symbols formed across his skin and scales enveloping him in a bright aura. He paused. The light flared in his eyes as the air vibrated and hummed around him. All at once, he exhaled. The burst of his breath froze the timbers solid and washed over the entire town in a tide of permafrost. Fires snuffed, people sleeping breathed their last. Living flesh crystallized cold in the dawning day. The power from his eyes and skin faded, and Siegyrd stepped forward toward the closed gate. He tapped it once with the hilt of the ebonblade, and it shattered into a fine dust of fresh snow. We demand slaughter! The blade¡¯s voice raged in Siegyrd¡¯s mind, but he responded with calculated silence. He walked on through the frozen streets. When he came upon the body of a man, he touched the edge of the blade to the frozen form, a shadow burst forth, engulfed the body, and receded. After, each form evaporated into frozen mists. The women and children Siegyrd left untouched by the blade. ¡°You feast well enough without slaughter.¡± The blade¡¯s voice said nothing, as man after man was consumed into its core, and their forms were turned to dust in the frigid glow of a rising sun. Siegyrd strode, executing his grim work until the sun was high. He stepped through alleys and across a marketplace of frozen monuments, entered death-filled homes. As he stood before the large central keep, the sun painted the dusk with crimson hues giving way to violet. He kicked the large, barred doorway shattering thick wood wrought with iron into icicle fragments which exploded into the feasting hall. He walked in to see a man seated on his makeshift throne of ill-carved and splintered dark wood. Upon his head sat a warhelm with a single horn in the center. On a table beside him was a twisted mask and a jug of mead, frozen solid as the stones that lay the foundations of the world. All around vassals and sycophants and revelers with the tyrant presented their final moment in still reflection. Siegyrd walked through and touched the blade to each before approaching the seated figure. Siegyrd drew a long breath. The cold filled his lungs with a delight that blunted his disgust. He raised the ebonblade high above him, gripping its hilt with both hands. His silver scales reflected shadows in the blade¡¯s perfect dark edge. He paused there, in a moment of brutal anticipation. He swung the blade downward slicing clean through the frozen form and splitting him and his throne in two. Then with a back step and a turn of his grip he used the flat of the giant blade to bash what remained into a shattered ruin with savage satisfaction. We may yet be friends, Skald. Siegyrd returned the blade to his shoulder and turned to leave. As he walked out of the broken-down entrance he said, ¡°You want for destruction. Some destruction aligns with wrath, justice delivered.¡± Ah, but how you enjoy it, Skald. Siegyrd held out his hand to his right, the blade hovering there, and released. There was a momentary pause as the blade pulled away part of the flesh in Siegyrd¡¯s hand leaving a dark mark before it fell. A small portal of shadow swallowed the sword leaving Siegyrd standing there alone. He breathed once more, rubbing his palm, as he wandered to the center of the devastated town. He drew two swords, grooved and carved through with holes of various sizes. He swung the first, and as it passed through the air, the wind whistled through the blade producing eerie musical notes. He stepped and swung the second, which layered in further airy notes on top, and soon his voice joined the song, providing the melody. Siegyrd sang and danced and played a dirge for all the souls departed as he wept frozen tears for all but one beneath a day¡¯s surrender to the dawn of night. # Gudrun¡¯s eyes widened with wonder as she peeked beneath the curtain. The room beyond was filled with mountainous treasure. The room was filled with light, save for one stain of darkness in a far corner which she couldn¡¯t make out from her vantage. When it caught her eye, her breath caught in her throat and she scrambled back, but a voice boomed through her, grim and dark and terrible. Little lost lady of the mountains, what terrors you will witness. Would you hear the truth of dragons? She felt she could not breathe and gripped her chest as fear trampled wild horses through her veins. Chapter 3 - Prison or Protection When Siegyrd returned, Gudrun sat on the edge of the room wrapped in furs shivering, eyes staring into nothingness. Siegyrd strode to her and crouched down, reached out his pale hand and lifted her chin to look into her eyes. There was a darkness in their green that was not there before, a strain of confusion, and the low embers of a smouldering fear. She did not see him at all but rocked back and forth muttering. ¡°Wretch!¡± He shouted as he turned and waived his hand. The giant tapestry split down the middle and moved back to reveal the mountains of treasure. At the back of the treasury was a black stain upon the light, and there hung the ebonblade in the air cocked at a disturbing angle. It seemed to mock by its subtle movements, but it spoke not at all. Siegyrd roared, and his form morphed and changed in slow growth as the roar grew louder. His back bent, and he leaned over on all fours, and then he was the size of a small horse, then a carriage, then a house. Soon he filled the cavern almost to bursting. His glistening silver-white scales interlocked in brilliant patterns of icy crystalline which bent the light of the false sun into coruscating rainbow rays. His colossal form looked down upon the black blade in the treasury, and his breath roiled in an icy fog among the coins and gems of the hoard. ¡°Release her.¡± He breathed, and there was a movement of the blade almost like a shudder. Gudrun screamed as she gathered the furs closer to herself and stared up at the silver dragon with terror and confusion in her eyes. Her scream reverberated off the walls and floors and then, as if surprised at her own voice, abruptly she stopped and grasped her throat. She looked around the room, mouth agape, and gasped for air. ¡°Let me go¡­ They. It. You. We were warned of you, hermits and madmen in the mountains. This is worse!¡± Seigyrd returned to his human form in a twist of the light. He moved to her side, crouching, his mercurial eyes set in brows knit with concern, ¡°Where shall you go, maiden of the mountains?¡± ¡°You want to keep me as pet. I will never be free.¡± ¡°Free for what, daughter of snow?¡± Her eyes flashed. She looked straight into his eyes and spat in his face. A brief blue light bloomed, then the saliva froze and fell with a clink to the floor. Siegyrd heard a sickening laughter inside his head. He ignored the ebonblade¡¯s mockery, and softened his gaze as he looked into the woman¡¯s green eyes. His vision swam in low tides of sorrow. ¡°You trick me! Let me go!¡± She raved at him and tried to push him away. He yielded to her push, stood and moved to the other side of the monstrous cavern. He grabbed a glass chalice from one of the shelves and filled it with some liquid which seemed poured from the empty air. He brought the drink to the woman. ¡°Poison!¡± She slapped it away from him, and the chalice clattered on the luminous stone floor. The liquid spilled across it bending the light in wandering waves. Siegyrd stood slowly, retrieved the chalice, filled it again from the hollow air, and drank some before proffering it to the woman. ¡°Why won¡¯t you let me leave?¡± She said as she turned her face away. Siegyrd smiled sadly, ¡°you¡¯d die, or worse.¡± ¡°This is worse than death!¡± Her sneer was thick, and her eyes were shadowed with fragments of dark magic. ¡°That voice is a worse poison than this world can produce,¡± he said coldly as he placed the full chalice next to the woman on the floor and walked over to another portion of the cavern. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°Are you going to let me go, monster? You made out to be a friend, selling wares and buying supplies. I had seen you in the village, ever in the coldest months. You didn¡¯t save any of them! Now I know. I know what dragons are! Killers and hoarders and calamities. The stories are all the same.¡± She stood, and some of the furs fell. The icy cold struck her neck, and she quickly gathered them back up around herself. Siegyrd moved to a central place in the cavern where a broad area was clear of all treasure, saying softly, ¡°Stories sadly true, if incomplete.¡± He drew his swords with their oddly crafted grooves. ¡°Threats!¡± Gudrun yelled, but then paused, confused, as Siegyrd moved through martial forms with dancelike fluidity. As he did, the whistle of the songblades played melodic through the gallery. ¡°Hey! Listen to me!¡± She almost snarled, but her eyelids grew heavy. A sense like what she felt in flight swept over her. ¡°Not, no! I¡­¡± Siegyrd continued his forms, and the first measure filled the space with music. He began to sing in a tongue she did not know. She tried again to speak, but the rolling waves of sound swept her away in their warm embrace. She closed her eyes to the cavern but opened them to a memory of her own home, her family, the great feast of her father¡¯s wedding day. The heavy notes of meat stuffed her nostrils, and pie filling danced on her tongue. Her stepmother¡¯s smile was bright and her eyes like caramel comfort. Gudrun was a little girl, and the sounds of a lute played by a hunchbacked skald brought a broad smile to her face as filling dripped over her lip. Her grown mind tried to resist the fondness of memory. She heard the joy of the past, the confusion of the present, and the fears for a distant future as a complex and haunting harmony. Her vision blurred with tears, and, when it cleared, the music swept her to a rocking chair in a broad sitting room. A fire chattered in the background as children gathered at her feet on a rug woven from spellspun threads. Around her stood men and women who she knew to be her sons and daughters. Their sons and daughters sat upon the floor looking up at her with bright eyes; amber hinted with green, storm-gray, dark chocolate brown, emerald infused with yellow sunlight. Her husband stood over her, strong and calm and precious to her, though she could not see his face. Feelings without memory flooded her. She blinked and yielded to the flows of time and song and let herself be carried into distant pasts, other people¡¯s lives, and into far flung futures where magical craft soared the skies on wings of diaphanous silver. She awoke in close furs with the ghosts of tears on her cheeks. She felt herself purged of a sickness she did not know she bore. # Siegyrd¡¯s song ended, and the last trailing note floated in the air for a blissful eternity. She stared, and her face softened. Siegyrd walked toward her and knelt close to take her hands in his before he spoke. ¡°Daughter of the mountains, what one could call prison, you may yet learn is protection. I cannot simply release you.¡± A small flash of anger rose in her cheeks, but, when she searched Siegyrd¡¯s eyes, she found only warmth and concern. ¡°What is your name, woman of the white peaks?¡± ¡°Gudrun.¡± ¡°Ah, a name of legend. Apeiron¡¯s humor never fails.¡± He laughed softly then said, ¡°I have many names, but most known am I as Siegyrd. Ours will be quite a different tale. Falling in love is strictly forbidden.¡± Despite herself, Gudrun smiled, and the cavern was brighter for that small smile than it had been in centuries. ¡°Now, daughter of the mountains, it is time we prepare a proper place. Please, follow me.¡± He stood and walked toward a far wall opposite the rows of weapons Gudrun had witnessed before. She hesitated, then gathered furs around her as best she could, and huddled after him, trying to stay warm. She heard a wicked laughter in her head and shivered, pausing again. Siegyrd looked back and laughed, his voice filled with a calming timbre, ¡°I had forgotten how cold my comfort is to humans. It has been long. I will make it right. Please,¡± He motioned for her to come alongside him as he walked. She obliged, and they reached the wall which looked flat and bare as icy stone could be. Siegyrd looked at her and smiled, his teeth pure white and sentineled with fangs. She shrank back, and he sighed then turned to touch his hand to the wall. A series of flashes played along the roof and a doorway filled with shifting luminance opened in front of him. He nodded to her and then stepped forward. His form stretched in her eyes and then flickered like a candle blown in the wind, and he was gone. She looked at the doorway with its shifting light, and approached it as she would a wild animal. At a pace away she stopped. A white hand shot out, grabbed her by the wrist, and she could not place the sensations so alien they were to her. In the snap of a finger she stood in an endless corridor lit by blue-flame braziers. Siegyrd released her wrist and smiled again and spoke, ¡°This way to your chambers. They will, I pray, be to your liking, unused though they have been for centuries.¡± Chapter 4 - A Bargain Struck Gudrun lay in a bed lavish with high darkwood pillars carved with fairy creatures of every story she had heard and many she could not begin to guess. Draperies of spidersilk softness hung over the canopy, and the mattress cradled her in a delightful suspension. The sheets were of no material she had ever known, but soft and cool to the touch. She snuggled into a large white fur blanket that could only have been made from a boreal bear. Sleep clung to her lightly as recollection swarmed. Kaleo¡¯s face flashed in her mind, and she shot up. Her eyes were heavy with her tears. The air was cool on her skin, but not so cold as the gallery. She slid the blankets back from her and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She stepped down onto a white stone floor. She flinched as her bare toes touched it. A large fireplace lay dormant across the room. A wardrobe twice her height stood next to the fireplace. She took a deep breath, then jumped down and tiptoed across the stone to the wardrobe. She threw it open revealing a wide array of women¡¯s clothing in fashions otherworldly and strange. She rifled through it, searching for warmth. # The door to her chamber opened, which was a blessing to her. She stepped into the blue flame-lit corridor and turned left toward the gallery. ¡°How many doors?¡± She said to herself as she walked slowly, glancing back up the twisting hallway. Soon she heard a loud clang echo through the hall. Then another and another. Echoes of the battle haunted her as she stepped, flinching at each sound. It came from the direction of the gallery, and she thought to return to her room, but she made up her mind in the night. She would leave. CLANG! The sound boomed louder as she moved, and she jumped, clenching her fists, then forced herself another step. It came from a nearby door which was cracked open and danced at the edges with amber firelight. She stepped toward it. CLANG! This time she stifled her body¡¯s reaction, gritting her teeth against it, and pushed the door open just enough to see inside. A wave of intense heat washed over her sending shivers up her spine, and the glow of molten rock danced across her face. She blinked at the shifting of the light. A small stream of liquid fire streamed from a pool in the ground to her left into a large black metal contraption on her right. Next to it Siegyrd was hunched over an anvil with his back to the door. He raised a hammer made of obsidian glass coated in mystic glow above him and brought it down again. CLANG! Gudrun anticipated the sound, but winced as a flashing arc of lightning burst around Siegyrd and the anvil then danced outward in a series of small shocks along the stone floor. Along the wall nearest Siegyrd were weapons in various states of craft and size and make ¨C none complete. Gudrun started to step back, but then steeled herself and spoke in a clear, steady voice, ¡°You spoke of protection, but when do you plan to release me?¡± CLANG! Another stroke was followed by another arc of crackling energy. She had clothed herself in a cloth-of-silver tunic draped with a dark black fur coat with streaks of silvery gray throughout it. Her breeches were thick woolens dyed the deep blue of winter dusk. She had thought of warmth, but now everything she wore felt stifling. Siegyrd did not seem to hear, and raised the hammer again, eyes intent upon his work. The hammer fell again. She yelled, ¡°Siegyrd!¡± Even as she took a step back. On her feet she wore moccasins of jet-black leather worked with fine silver filigree and lined with white wool. Her face was flush with the heat, and her courage faltered. She stepped out of the room completely chased by the sound of the next hammer stroke. The door to the forge shut of its own accord, leaving her in the shifting blue of the corridor. Everything she wore was of finer make than she had ever known, and soft. She shifted uncomfortably as sweat glistened on her brow. She made her way to the end of the corridor and stepped through the light into a mad falling sensation, then landed upright in the gallery¡¯s cold air. She shook her head and spoke aloud to herself, ¡°I¡¯ll show him.¡± She strode through the gallery to a broad entryway filled with fog. The path seemed a wall of solid mist, but she stepped forward anyway. It yielded to her passing like any natural mist, though she felt refreshed by it. On the other side of the wall the sun was brilliant white, though muted cold. She clutched her coat and walked straight outward through a light dusting of snow leaving behind perfect footprints. The scale of the mountain dawned on her as she moved, and she took each step more slowly than the last. She walked across a broad, flat, immaculate courtyard walled first with sheer cliffs that opened to the sapphire sky above and then with empty sky all around. At last, after a long landing, she stopped short as she found herself looking out over a cliff leagues in height. She stepped forward toward the edge and peeked over. The winds whipped around her like menacing sprites. Her body swayed, and her mind went blank as raw canvas. She blinked, felt herself falling, and then leaned backwards and landed with a thud in the snow. Her eyes adjusted to the dizzy distance sights. Her ears heard whistling on the heights. Her cheeks felt the flush of cold and embarrassment, but she inched herself forward on the edge until her feet dangled just off of it. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Gudrun looked long over the valleys below. She could see no way down that would not mean a deathly climb over icy stone. A sense of awe and helplessness gripped her. She shut her eyes against the view, and drew in a long breath and held it. She breathed out slowly and opened her eyes. A prisoner indeed, she thought, and scooted back from the edge, stood and retraced her footprints in the snow back to the cavern¡¯s mouth. He greeted her warmly, ¡°Back so sooohn.¡± The deep rumble of Siegyrd¡¯s dragon voice made the cavern quiver as he spoke. He lay atop his treasure bed. The great curtain was pressed to the sides of the cavern. He had packed his lower lip with a crystal of fog ice and let the mist roll between his teeth and out his nostrils over the treasures throughout the gallery. A vague scent of snow lily permeated the cavern, and he hummed contentedly which made the coins rattle beneath him. ¡°I am glad.¡± Gudrun pulled her dark fur coat around her and spoke as she crossed the long gallery toward him, ¡°When will you release me?¡± ¡°Huhm¡± he sighed, raising a clinking crescendo of quivering coins, and then he breathed deeply inward, sucking in all the fog as he closed his eyes. Gudrun could felt the air whip by her with the force of his breath. ¡°Would you answer me you insufferable brute!¡± Her voice cracked, and she gulped before she continued, ¡°I want to know when I can leave.¡± ¡°Some sunrise, surely. Some sunrise. Hmm.¡± The fog from his mouth danced through the treasures and clung around Gudrun¡¯s ankles as she reached the base of the hoard. The scent of snow lilies grew stronger. Gudrun huffed and kicked at the fog dispersing some wisps which floated heedlessly upward. She opened her mouth to speak, but then snapped it shut. She strode off to her right, keeping the dragon partially in view, and made her way to the rows of neatly lined treasures and relics. She examined the porcelain vase shaped like a woman¡¯s hips. She reached to touch it and then shoved it over. She looked back at Siegyrd¡¯s dragon form and awaited the inevitable crash with a wicked grin. No sound came. Her grin faded, and she looked behind her to see the vase taunting her in still repose. She furrowed her brow and pushed it over again, this time with both hands. She turned triumphantly to Siegyrd and flashed a menacing scowl. Still no sound. She turned again, and there the vase remained, timelessly firm. Not a grain of golden sand had spilled. Infuriated she ran to the place where the amethyst sword hung in midair and grabbed it by the hilt, ripping it from the sheathe of air and ran to smash the vase. Siegyrd¡¯s dragon eyes widened, but he did not move. Just as the crystal sword was about to contact the porcelain, the sword vanished from her hand. In her eagerness, her weight was too far forward, and she fell into the vase and went down with it. She closed her eyes expecting it to crash beneath her and she shielded her face as she tensed her body. After a pause, she opened one eye and noticed she was standing. The vase was pristine. She was unharmed. ¡°Hmmm.¡± a deep rumble grew, and Gudrun turned to look at Siegyrd. ¡°What kind of place is this? Let me go!¡± ¡°The daughter of a chief ought to be more respectful of others'' things. Any daughter really.¡± He shook his great head, and the icicle-like beard from his chin played wild and then settled back to its regal position. ¡°Let. Me. Go.¡± Her voice was firm. ¡°Where?¡± Gudrun opened her mouth, said, ¡°um,¡± and then slowly closed it. She furrowed her brow for a moment and then spoke, ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°With whom?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°With whom will you go, Gudrun of the mountainside, of the snow and ice?¡± ¡°Alone,¡± she said and fidgeted with the hem of her cloak. ¡°I will go alone.¡± ¡°Oh, huhm.¡± He rumbled, almost a laugh, ¡°No no.¡± ¡°And why can I not go alone?¡± ¡°Always the can with you,¡± he drew out his next word like a sigh, ¡°huuumans.¡± ¡°I can do anything!¡± Gudrun stood taller, defiant. ¡°Then fly yourself free. Become daughter of the winds as well as mountains.¡± Siegyrd¡¯s deep laugh trickled into his speech. ¡°You can¡¯t hold me back! Can¡¯t keep me here!¡± ¡°Let¡¯s not argue, would-be daughter of the wind. It is,¡± he yawned wide revealing that his giant maw was rimmed with teeth the size of greatswords, ¡°tiresome. I will let you leave when a trusted protector you have, and not before.¡± ¡°I need no protector! I am a daughter of the mountain tribes. I can take care of myself.¡± ¡°Priiide.¡± He dragged out the word with a kind of malice and the treasures quaked afresh. The word hung in the air and continued to quiver for a time, and then all grew still before he spoke again. ¡°Come now. Everyone has need of others. I cannot release without some protection.¡± ¡°You could protect me!¡± The dragon¡¯s laughter was loud and long and full of good cheer, the cavern filling further with the snow-lily smoke and scent before he spoke, ¡°You would have me for protector who you think your jailer? No no no. It is not for me to be your protector far beyond these walls. It is for another whom you have seen in the shadows of your songdream.¡± Gudrun stiffened, remembering the strong, tall man whose face was shrouded in shadow who stood over her and her children and grandchildren in the vision. ¡°How am I to meet him if I am stuck here?¡± ¡°Hmmm. It¡¯s already in motion. I have seeded a story that a beautiful young woman of high birth and great qualities has been taken by a wicked dragon to his mountain lair.¡± Here the great silvery dragon winked, or what passed for a wink but twisted strangely in his regal form. ¡°The tale will grow and produce the fruits of valor and failure and many things in between. The valiant will rise. The weak will fall. Cowards dare nothing. And he too will come.¡± There was a deep laughter again, and Siegyrd¡¯s dragon eyes brightened with mirth. Gudrun smiled despite herself, and then she laughed too, ¡°Was that a wink? What kind of evil dragon winks? Why would you do this?¡± ¡°What kind indeed, Gudrun, daughter of mountains, ice, and snow ¨C perhaps even wind?¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t answer my question.¡± ¡°Hmmm,¡± he mused, ¡°no, I did not. But he will come.¡± Gudrun cocked her head slightly, but was struck with another question closer to her heart¡¯s fear, ¡°What if I don¡¯t love him?¡± Siegyrd replied, ¡°What if you do?¡± Chapter 5 - A Wayward Knight ¡°It is said the vile creature has scales the color of pitch and noxious to the touch, but that he covers himself in snow which does not melt against his frigid body. The snow makes him appear white against the mountains, but on closer look it is a simple mask, a deadly covering.¡± A drunken man missing half his top row of teeth and wearing the yellow-orange colors of the house of the desert fox spoke between stuttered stumbling. ¡°I¡¯ve heard just an oversized lizard wit¡¯ strapped wings to its back. It ain¡¯t real. Don¡¯t believe for a second.¡± The short, thin man threw back another swig of his drink. A third man shouted in the room, ¡°I saw the ruins of the town in the far north, frozen solid as stone, it was! And all the menfolk was gone like puffs of smoke, no bodies or nothin¡¯. Women and children statues stock still. I say they was eaten! I tell you it¡¯s a white dragon, an evil wretched thing. The chieftain¡¯s throne was cleaved in two!¡± The man¡¯s face was squat and fat, but his eyes held wry intelligence. ¡°Aye cleaved by a sword or an axe! That¡¯s not the action of a dragon, Martin! Besides, ain¡¯t been no dragon sightings in half an age you twit. They was hunted to extinction by the Knight Tumult, and the bards and historians agree ¨C a rarity. I would bet you an adventuring party moved through and one of them wizardy types froze ¡®em all, and the meathead in their midst decided to cut the chieftain down after the fact. Couldn¡¯t have been one done that. Maybe more than one wizardy type or a sorckeror. Scary stuff.¡± This man¡¯s face was gaunt as a skeleton, skin dark as ebony, and eyes the color of cool blue ice. ¡°Cantos, ye can¡¯t be serious¡­¡± Fat Martin choked on a swig of his ale, and began coughing uncontrollably. The dark man, Cantos, slapped him on the back a few times, ¡°There there, don¡¯t breathe it, Martin. Seems the god of ale chose to shut you up before you told a lie. What luck! The Lady of Lies doesn¡¯t like being mixed with drink, no matter how often we mortals do it.¡± The two continued their spat, and in the corner of the room, sipping wine and leaning back against the wall, was a rusted knight. His plate armor was scored and scoured with use. The once-shining steel was now a patina of various hues, purples, blues, and a light dusting of orange. His face was untouched, but graced with a thick dark beard. His skin was the deep copper of desert lands, and his eyes were black as coal. His strong features were hard in the jawline yet soft around those dark eyes as he surveyed the area. The last of his meager funds were in the glass of wine in front of him. His stomach growled, and he took another swig. As he did, Martin fell out of his seat coughing, and Cantos stepped off his stool to try to help the man up. The rainbow knight stood quickly, and drew a dark sap from his belt. He weaved between patrons and made quick time to Cantos just as the man leaned over to help his friend. A single firm slap from the sap on the back of Cantos'' skull crumpled him on top of his drunken friend. The rainbow knight looked up, locked eyes with the tavern keep who nodded and quickly turned around, and then the knight pulled Cantos off his scrambling friend. The knight punched the pudgy faced man square on his nose with a gauntleted fist. The light in Martin¡¯s eyes snuffed like candles, and the knight stood to look toward the small tavern stage where a simple hunchbacked old man had just arrived to play the violin. The other patrons groaned from the short fight and looked away toward the stage. The old man¡¯s form was nothing remarkable, but his cloak was black as the deepest night and seemed to swallow the light around him. His violin was made of what looked like solid silver. The bow was of gilded craft, and the spider threads of hair in it were the color of copper. The old man drew the bow across the strings for the first note, and the knight¡¯s vision swam. # He stood motionless, the sap in his left hand, and felt a small rustling of wind in his hair and beard. The tavern was gone, erased in a flash. He stood on the sky looking down upon a mountain where the most beautiful woman he had never seen sat looking over the edge. Her braided red hair cascaded down her back and over a dark fur cloak. Her feet dangled over a ledge, and she was trying to control her breathing. He was above her, but not within reach, two strides distant. She looked up and through him as if he were not there. She squinted at the sun behind him, raising an arm to shield her eyes, and he realized he cast no shadow. The woman stood and walked back across an immense courtyard carved into the mountain¡¯s peak and entered a gargantuan cavern filled with sinister mists. As she disappeared, suddenly he was standing in the midst of a broad cavern more regal in splendor than any courts of kings, with a pseudo-sun hanging from the ceiling. Rows upon rows of priceless treasures filled the space, and atop a distant mountain of treasure was a dragon the size of a great ocean ship. The rainbow knight watched as the dragon and the woman argued, though the only sound he heard was violin music permeating the space. As he looked around the room, he thought he could almost see other forms in the cave with him, some taller, some shorter. If he focused his eyes, he could make out some details. One was a full head taller than he and stood impassively with a spear taller still tipped with living flame. Another was about his height though thin and lithe, wore light clothing and held a pair of rapiers at the ready. The next could only be described as a prince, his robes, his whole bearing more regal than the others. But the rainbow knight could not focus long. Ever and again his eyes were drawn back to the woman in the center of the room arguing with the dragon. Her hair, her green eyes, her strength, her defiance, but also her softness, burned him with longing. Beauty slays a man heedless of its power, and new deaths were his by the breath. He saw her and thought he saw a need, the dragon toying with her. He must go to her! As he thought this, he heard a voice rumbling in his head. Be ye worthy of great love? Take the hazard. Come, take her from me if you can, weak human. The valiant will come. The weak will fail. Cowards dare nothing. Which be ye? Come, prove your worth, if any you possess! You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. # The rainbow knight blinked and winced at a sharp pain in his shoulders ¡°I told you we shoulda just gutted him and left!¡± ¡°Shut it, Martin, this Eras fella is wanted by the Brood in Bevin Town, and it¡¯s triple if he¡¯s alive.¡± Cantos huffed as he carried one of Eras¡¯ armoured legs and dragged. Martin carried the other, lower and squat. Eras¡¯ arms were pulled behind him at a painful angle, and he felt his gauntlets grinding against the dirt, the scraping of metal on stone and grit was cacophonous. He didn¡¯t move for a moment, taking in the situation. Above him, the evening deepened as a sapphire moon rose in a star-strewn sky. ¡°At least let¡¯s strip his armour. Heavier than sin he is.¡± Martin huffed like a man crushed. Cantos spoke through gritted teeth, ¡°Soon, gotta get a bit further out. Not far now.¡± Eras closed his eyes and let himself be dragged as he searched with his fingers for one of his small stiletto blades he kept tucked behind his wrist plate. His hands twisted against the earth, and he leaned slightly to the side of the shorter man. Both men stopped, and Martin looked back, ¡°Oi! Is he awake? Or are you dumping more weight on me ya scarecrow git.¡± Cantos¡¯ eyes shot back to Eras. Eras let his face loll stupidly to one side. Cantos narrowed his blue-eyed gaze, then sunk down a little lower, trying to match Martin¡¯s height as he lifted up again on Eras¡¯ leg, ¡°if you had a bit of height to ya this¡¯d be easier.¡± ¡°Blaming the gods as usual, eh Cantos. Ever thought you¡¯re just a weaklin?¡¯¡± He spoke through a smile, ¡°If the divine shoe fits.¡± Eras felt the edge of the sheathe where the stiletto should be and found it empty. He grit his teeth, but then felt something loosen. He worked his hands back and forth with the motion of the men¡¯s movements, and slowly his hands came out of the gauntlets. Thank the stars these men are idiots. He thought as the gauntlets slipped off his hands and he heaved his body in a twisting motion, ripping his leg from Martin¡¯s arms and throwing all his weight toward Cantos who swore and tripped to the side as Eras fell face down on the road. ¡°Smother him, kill him!¡± Martin¡¯s voice carried the punctuated sound of a knife unsheathed. Cantos yelled from the ground, ¡°Triple, ya nutter! TRIPLE!¡± Eras put his hands against the ground and pushed up with all the strength he could muster coming to a knee just as Martin tackled him from the side. The weight of his chest plate shifted him sideways and his core gave way to a fall, but he was able to slip an arm under Martin¡¯s armpit and kick off his one leg to generate enough momentum to roll on top of the man, crushing down with his full weight and armour. Martin hissed with pain and tried to stab but struck a section of armour with a tinny thud. Eras reached one hand to grab Martin¡¯s wrist and pin the arm to the ground just as Cantos covered Eras¡¯ mouth and tilted his head back, touching a blade to Eras¡¯ neck that flashed in the moonlight. ¡°Easy there, friend. My coinpurse¡¯d prefer not to bleed you, but my blade is very thirsty.¡± Cantos¡¯ voice was sharper than his knife. Cantos lifted upward, pulling Eras¡¯ head with him, and the knight released Martin and strained to stand beneath the weight of his armour as he raised his hands up at a level with his head. Martin sputtered, ¡°Slit him, Cantos, and have it done with.¡± He rolled out from under Eras and rubbed his ribs where the armoured weight had crushed him. He breathed raggedly. He tried to stand upright, but winced and leaned back over, arching his head up to look at Cantos. ¡°Think I broke somethin¡¯.¡± Cantos laughed, and the blade in his hand pressed slightly into Eras¡¯ throat, making him lean back. Cantos removed his hand from Eras¡¯ mouth and relaxed slightly, letting Eras¡¯ head move a little forward Eras spoke without thinking, ¡°I must go to her.¡± Martin and Cantos both twisted their faces strangely and said, ¡°Her?¡± Cantos knife lifted from Eras¡¯ skin a hair¡¯s width, and Eras pulled both his hands to Canto¡¯s forearm, ripping it down from his throat and pinning it to his chest plate. Martin shouted, and Cantos tried to lean back, but it was too late. Eras leaned his whole weight forward and kicked up to roll over his right shoulder, carrying Cantos with him. He couldn¡¯t make a full roll with the weight, but as he fell, he drove Cantos¡¯ face into the hard-packed road. A sickening crunch sounded, and Eras leaned to his right, the weight of his armour dislocating Canto¡¯s shoulder with a loud pop. Martin yelled wildly and stepped forward, but Eras rolled away, and kicked the pudgy man¡¯s knee from the side. The knee exploded outward punctuated by Martin¡¯s agonized yelp, and the man collapsed like a dead tree under a hammering gale. Eras rolled sideways a few more times, creating distance before he stumbled to his feet with ponderous effort. He touched a hand to his throat and pulled it away, looking at the trickle of dark burgundy in the moonlight. Eras looked at Cantos unconscious in the dirt. Martin screamed, ¡°I¡¯ll gut you! Vile, wretched, oh, gods and stars and demons, by all the,¡± a fresh lance of pain silenced him with a choked breath and he seethed, staring at Eras with pained eyes. ¡°We¡¯ll call it a draw.¡± Eras said, as he held his hand to his throat, pressuring the small wound and hoping it would close. He swayed toward Martin, who remained on one knee, and said, ¡°If you tell me where you put my arms.¡± Martin lashed out, throwing a knife from his free hand while his other hand cradled his ribs. The knife struck Eras¡¯ steel breastplate and scored a small flash of silver beneath the layers of rust, then fell to the ground. ¡°Martin O¡¯Malley, you¡¯re the smart one right?¡± Eras moved closer, the strength of the fight giving way to a cold anger, ¡°Where are my arms?¡± Martin¡¯s spit struck Eras¡¯ thigh plate, and Eras sighed, ¡°Have it your way.¡± He stepped forward and drove his knee plate into Martin¡¯s squat nose. The man crumpled, and Eras knelt to take the coinpurse from his belt. He stood huffing, and opened the pouch, turning the leather opening in the moonlight and sorting through with a finger. ¡°Maybe enough for a sword and a proper meal.¡± He said, as he moved over and flipped Cantos onto his back. He pulled that man¡¯s purse as well and eyed it. Cantos groaned and started to mutter. Eras popped him again in the jaw and searched, a smile on his lips, ¡°Maybe a cheap meal then, and a horse.¡± He gathered his gauntlets on his way back toward the tavern, cursing the weight of his armor between juddered breaths. For the first time in a long time he smiled. Whether for the thought of food or the emerald of the dream lady¡¯s eyes, he couldn¡¯t be sure, but his smile grew to whistling as he headed north.