The dragon looked bored. It just lay there in the middle of the snow and ash, its long neck and head resting on the ground, eyes open only a slit. Somehow, it was more intimidating this way.

Closeness was a factor, but even though he was fairly close to it now, Rudiger had been closer. No, it was the fact that it just didn’t care. The presence of this little man—and as tall as Rudiger was, he was tiny in comparison to this beast—meant nothing to it. It could swipe out and crush him with little effort.

The last time Rudiger had seen the dragon, he had been in a fight for his life. Those kinds of situations made him think less of how intimidating or not his opponent was. But now, the dragon was supposedly not going to kill him. It could, but Lidda had commanded it not to, and it just didn’t seem to care. Rudiger meant nothing to it, despite the fact he had inflicted injuries on it previously. The dragon had no fear of him.

It didn’t help that he was still unsteady on his feet. If the dragon did attack him, he’d never be able to get out of the way. He would just have to stand there and let it squash him, or swallow him, or whatever it chose to do. Maybe Slay’s powers would protect him somehow, but given even lifting the sword was a task at the moment, he didn’t want to put any trust in that.

Of course, testing Slay’s abilities was exactly why he was here. At Lidda’s order, the dragon was going to breathe fire at him, but unlike the dragon attacking him physically, he was reasonably confident he would be okay. It was against the fire that the sword had protected him previously, not the dragon’s physical attacks.

Two guards stood near him, one to either side. They wore chainmail and helmets, and carried shields, but they clearly knew none of that would be any help. They shifted positions nervously constantly, and even though they were supposed to be watching Rudiger, they frequently turned their heads to look towards the dragon. Rudiger didn’t blame them. He’d be scare shitless in their position too.

His crutches lay on the ground at his feet, and at the moment, he held Slay with the point resting on the ground. This was the first time he’d held the sword in a month, and it was already a bit of a strain to lift and keep lifted. He’d spent too much time stuck in Felitïa’s apartments, unable to do much with his arms. He needed to somehow impress upon Lidda that he needed access to Slay or something with the same balance and weight distribution if he was to keep his upper body strength at a level to be useful to her—and, of course to eventually kill her, but he wasn’t going to tell her that part.

Much farther back and to the side stood Lidda and a contingent of guards and courtiers. Rudiger was fairly certain the moustache man, Lamaën was with her too, though it was hard to tell from this distance. When it came to killing Lidda, she was not really the main problem. Moustache Man was. With Lidda, he just had to make sure she didn’t set him on fire. But Moustache Man was a much greater threat with his ability to throw people across the room without physical contact. And what he had done to Captain DeSeloön...that still sent shivers down Rudiger’s spine. Plotting to kill Lidda meant getting past Lamaën first.

Lidda yelled something, but it was unintelligible at this distance. The dragon clearly understood, though, as it opened its eyes fully and raised its head.

Rudiger turned the sword over and raised it up, holding it out at a slight angle. “Right, here we go, boys. Hope you’re paying close attention.” Of course, he had no idea what he was doing, but he hoped he looked like he knew what he was doing. Keeping Lidda happy required that.

The two guards looked nervously towards the dragon again, then back at Rudiger. Then, one of them turned and ran screaming.

“No!” Rudiger called after him. “I don’t know the range of this. If you’re outside—”

It was too late. The heat of the flames washed over him. He knew it wasn’t the full heat, but it was intense nonetheless. The flames themselves parted and licked around the invisible shield that sprung up around Rudiger and the remaining guard. He couldn’t tell if the running guard was within the shield or not, but the screaming stopped, so probably not.

Rudiger kept Slay raised for several seconds after the flames passed. As far as he was concerned, he couldn’t be too careful here. He certainly didn’t trust the dragon not to breathe a second time without warning.

The dragon rose to its feet and took a few steps forward.

“Oh gods oh gods oh gods,” the remaining guard muttered.

“Stay put,” Rudiger said. “Do not run.”

The guard kept muttering, “Oh gods oh gods,” but didn’t move.

The dragon stopped mere feet in front of them and reached over them with its long neck.

Rudiger had a pretty good idea what it was doing. Gods, he’d told the kid not to run. He completely understood why the kid had done it, but still…

There was a sickening sound—a mixture of bones crushing and metal tearing. The dragon raised its neck again. Bits of limbs stuck out of the side of its mouth as it chewed. After a moment, it turned its head to the side and spat what remained of the guard out. It must not have enjoyed the metal much. At least Rudiger had that as a consolation if it ever tried to eat him. He just had to make certain he always wore his armour.

The dragon then turned around and wandered off a short distance before lying down again, and laying its head on the ground.

Rudiger slowly lowered Slay and turned to face Lidda’s direction. She and her attendants were on their way over. Rudiger stuck Slay’s point in the ground again and waited. There was no way he was walking to her. He’d make her come the full way.

Sure enough, Moustache Man was with her, walking just behind her and a little to the side. Rudiger kept his eyes on him.

“Well?” Lidda said when she got close.

“He...uh...he didn’t do anything, your Ladyship,” the guard said. “No words or phrases or magical incantations. No special actions I could see. All he did was lift the sword up and point it out, just like the others tried before they...uh...before they died.”

“Why did the other one run? You were under strict orders to stay and watch him.”

The guard gulped. “I...uh.. He just screamed and ran.”

“He was fucking terrified, that’s why,” Rudiger said.

Lidda held up her hand, palm directed at Rudiger. “I’m not talking to you.”

“I...uh...think he’s right, your Ladyship,” the guard said. “He was terrified.”

Lidda spat on the ground. “Amateurs! And what is that smell? Is that you?”

“I...I’m sorry your Ladyship. I…”

“Get out of my sight.”

“Yes, your Ladyship.” The guard ran off in the direction of the Palace.

Lidda stomped her feet. “Gods damn incompetents!”

“That’s your fault,” Rudiger said.

She glared at him. “What?”

“You killed most of the guards in your gods damned coup. Now, you’re forced to hire untrained boys with no experience. Of course he fucking shat himself. I practically did myself. And yeah, the other one ran because he was fucking terrified. His death is on you.”

She sneered at him. “You think I care about that?”

“No, but it doesn’t change anything.”

She sneered again, but turned away, looking to Moustache Man. “What did you think?”

Lamaën stroked his moustache several times before replying. Rudiger decided he would cut that thing off him when he finally killed the man.

“It was an interesting display,” Lamaën said eventually. “It doesn’t prove anything though.”

“How can you say that?” Lidda said. “It has power. You saw it.”

Lamaën nodded. “Yes, I did. I didn’t deny that. But as I have told you, there were many decoy swords made as well.”

“But it has power! It must be the true one.”

“Do you truly think a decoy would be effective if it was powerless? The decoys had to be given some power in order to fool people into believe they were the real thing.”

“Enough power to hold out against Ezuna’s fire?”

Lamaën sighed and stroked his moustache again. “Admittedly, that is harder to say, but if it isn’t a decoy and is the true sword, that would mean the Delam monks have been fooled, and that is incredibly hard to believe. Their whole purpose is to protect the sword.”

“Care to let me in on what you’re talking about?” Rudiger said.

“No!” Lidda snapped. “Remain quiet.”

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind asking this potential Sword-Bearer a few questions.” Lamaën walked up to Rudiger. He actually stopped stroking his moustache and pointed at Slay. “Please hand that over.”

As much as Rudiger really wanted to tell him to fuck off, he complied. He held the hilt out, making a point to lift the sword up so it was no longer resting on the ground. He couldn’t stop Lamaën taking it, but he could make sure the man experienced the sword’s full weight.

To Rudiger’s great amusement, Lamaën grunted as he took the sword and had to rebalance himself. He didn’t rest the sword point on the ground though, but instead turned it around and held it up to look closely at the blade. The writing on it, which had flared up from the dragon’s fire, had mostly faded again.

“It has the etchings,” Lidda said.

Lamaën looked over at her with a raised eyebrow. “As would all of the decoys. Neither you nor I have the knowledge or means to test the sword properly.” He turned the sword around again, and rested the point on the ground. Although he was trying to hide it, his arms were clearly strained. “Tell me, how did you come across this sword?”

“I didn’t,” Rudiger said. “It’s been in my family for generations.”

“Hmm, so I understand,” Lamaën said. “But when did it first pass on to you?”

“My father passed it on to me shortly before he died.”

“And how did he die?”

“Bandits or thieves or something. Probably Darkers. They broke into our home while I was away. Killed my parents. Pretty sure they were looking for Slay. They didn’t take anything else.”

“Why do you call it Slay?”

“That’s what the family’s called it for generations. Supposedly, it had another name once, but don’t know what that was.”

“It’s an obvious diminutive of Daemonslayer,” Lidda said.

“Have you heard that name before?” Lamaën asked.

“A couple of times from her,” Rudiger said. “Before her, no.”

Lamaën sighed and stroked his moustache some more. “He has managed to become an associate of the Will-Breaker. That does strengthen the possibility he’s the Sword-Bearer.”

“I’ve been saying as much for ages,” Lidda said.

“But even if he is, that still does not mean this is the true Daemonslayer. However, we can’t be too cautious. Kranian and his crew are already active in Quorge. We need to make certain the Sword is kept away from the Will-Breaker.”

Lidda gasped. “They are? Who summoned them?”

“Aylor, I presume,” Lamaën said with a shrug, “though I don’t yet know for sure.”

“It is too soon, surely.”

“Most sources give this as the year, though I confess, I didn’t expect it this early in the year.”

What the hell were these two talking about? Rudiger resisted asking though, as they would probably shut up on the topic. If he let them go on, maybe he could learn something.

“So, how do we know for sure if this is the sword or not?” Lidda asked.

Lamaën stood there for several seconds stroking him moustache more. “We go to Singea. Get the monks to test this one and the one they have there. It’s the only way to be certain.”

“That would take ages,” Lidda said.

Lamaën nodded.

Lidda turned to one of the courtiers with her—an older man Rudiger had seen in the past, but didn’t know the name of. “How long would it take?”

After a moment of thought, the courtier replied, “Depends a bit on the route taken and on weather conditions, but the quickest route would probably be to go by ship around the northern tip of Arnor, then south along the east coast before crossing the Lesser Ocean. Then it would be an overland trip. At an estimate, two months by ship, followed by two months overland. Alternatively, you could—”

“That’s enough,” Lidda said waving him off. “Four months there, four months back, plus however long we remain. I can’t be gone from here for over eight months.”

“You don’t need to go,” Lamaën said. “I’ll go myself and take the sword with me. I won’t need quite so long on my own.”

“Absolutely not! I am not letting the sword out of my sight for that length of time, even if you’re back quicker.” She began to pace back and forth. “No, I must go too.”

“Except, as you said, you can’t leave for that length of time. You are in a volatile period. You must be here to maintain control.”

She held up her hand. “I’ll figure something out, but this is one area in which I am not giving you the say, and I am not backing down.”

Lamaën lowered his hand and actually stopped pulling on his moustache. He peered down at her through narrowed eyes. “We shall see.”

“If you’re going to pout, do it out of my sight.” She motioned to a couple of guards. “You, you, see Lord Fonivan back to his apartments.” She glared back at Lamaën. “We shall talk of this later.” Then she marched off, followed by a train of guards and courtiers.

* * * * *

Borisin’s head hung over the door of his stall. Although it had only been a week since they’d last seen each other, Rudiger liked to think Borisin was looking a lot better. His mane, for example, had grown. It probably hadn’t grown much, but surely it had grown a little. And the blisters on his neck and body were looking better. There were more scabs. Unlike the mane, Rudiger was pretty certain those changes were actually pretty significant.

About time, Borisin said. I’m growing tired of smelling these two.

There were more than two people there, counting all the guards, but Rudiger was pretty certain Borisin was referring to Lidda and Malef, who both stood to the side.

Sorry, buddy. Stairs still take a bit of work and the ground is kind of icy.

Borisin snorted. I suppose I forgive you.

“Welcome, Rudiger,” Lidda said. “To show my appreciation, and that I keep my word, you may have half an hour with your horse. I’ve also seen fit to grant your request for Malef to be present, though I’m not sure why you want him here.”

Rudiger shrugged as he approached Borisin’s stall and opened the gate. “We’ve been talking recently about wanting to do stuff together again, like we used to play billiards. We’ve kind of run out of gossip to talk about. Since I usually only get to leave my apartments for this, I thought we could do this together. Malef can help me with Borisin.”

What? Are you kidding? No way! I’m not letting that man anywhere near me.

Ease up, buddy. Malef’s the only ally we have here.

“I suppose it makes some sense,” Lidda said.

Ally? He tried to kill me, remember?

“But no conspiring.”

No, he didn’t. “The guards will still be present, your Ladyship. And you’re welcome to stay as well.”

And he’s sleeping with Queen Bitch there.

Lidda chuckled. “Oh, I know. The guards will be watching closely.” She motioned to Malef. “Go ahead.”

As Malef approached the stall, Borisin reared. I told you no! Absolutely not!

“Borisin!” Rudiger yelled as Malef backed off. There were no reins, so all he could do was grab Borisin’s neck, which couldn’t be too pleasant. Borisin, listen to me! You are going to do this because this is the only way we are ever getting out of here. You understand?

Borisin neighed loudly and continued to rear.

Borisin, please! I’m begging you. This is necessary!

Borisin lowered his front legs and made one more annoyed neigh. Fine, but I won’t like it, and if he takes any missteps, I’m biting his hand off.

Agreed. Rudiger looked to Malef. “Sorry about that. He’s always fidgety about other people, and in his current state…”

Malef adjusted his doublet. “I’ve noticed that about him. You’re sure he’ll be all right now?”

“He will, don’t worry.”

Malef approached again, this time more warily. Borisin snorted a couple times, but did nothing else.

“I have to admit,” Malef said, “when we talked about doing things together, I didn’t think of this.”

“Neither did I,” Rudiger said. “Not at first, but it just sort of came to me after we saw each other yesterday.”

“Lidda must be in a giving mood at the moment. She turned down my request that she allow us to play billiards together.”

“She’s happy about the Slay demonstration the other day. I’m getting a reward, I guess. Now, because of his burns, you need to be gentle when brushing his mane.” He handed Malef a brush. Let him brush you, buddy.

I’m going to regret this. Borisin remained still as Malef began to brush.

“A lot of knots here,” Malef said.

“Staff here aren’t very good,” Rudiger said. “Most of the old staff died or ran away, so like the guards, everyone here is inexperienced with little clue what they’re doing.”

And it shows, Borisin said.

They brushed Borisin for a few moments. Then, without stopping, Rudiger said, All right, buddy, I’m gonna need you to do something you’re gonna hate.

Borisin pulled back a bit, causing Malef to jump.

“It’s all right,” Rudiger said. “I think I accidentally rubbed over a sensitive spot.”

Malef re-approached Borisin and resumed brushing.

What do you want? Borisin asked.

I need you to introduce yourself to him.

Borisin was silent.

Well? No angry retorts? No refusals?

Oh, I’ve got a ton of things I want to say, but I’m guessing they won’t make a difference. Not to mention, you wouldn’t ask me to do something so repulsive without it being absolutely necessary. Just tell me why.

“I must say,” Malef said, “he is a magnificent horse. I’m sure I’ve said it before, but he is. Even with these burns. The fact he survived an encounter with that dragon is something truly special.”

Malef continued to drone on as Rudiger explained to Borisin, I need you to pass messages between us. Both of us are watched too much to be able to speak openly. This is the only way we can speak frankly with each other.

Fine. I’ll do it. Hope you’re ready for his reaction.

“I know Lidda doesn’t think as highly of him because she finds him too big, but she doesn’t understand what’s needed for a horse bred for combat. No offence, dear! A good warhorse—” Malef broke off with a gasp followed by a whimper.

Step on his foot, quick! Rudiger said.

With pleasure.

Malef cried out.

One of the guards approached the gate as Lidda called out, “What’s happening?”

Malef looked at Rudiger with wide eyes and a trembling jaw. “He...uh...he stepped on my foot. It’s okay, my dear. He just took me by surprise. That’s all. He’s moved again. I’ll be fine.”

The guard looked in the stall, then nodded back to Lidda.

“Very well. Keep that horse under control, Rudiger.”

“Yes, your Ladyship, sorry. Unfortunately, his wounds are still sensitive and it’s hard to groom him without occasionally—”

“Whatever! Just keep him under control. See, Malef? This is why I don’t like big horses.”

“Yes, dear,” Malef said. “I understand your point, but...uh...there is still a value to—”

“I don’t give a damn!”

“Yes, dear.” Malef continued to look at Rudiger, still trembling.

What’s happening? Rudiger asked.

It’s taking him a moment to figure out how to answer me. Remember how I told you some humans are harder to communicate with than others?

Yeah.

He’s one of them. It’s actually painful, so you better appreciate what I’m doing.

I do, buddy. Believe me.

Malef was still staring at Rudiger, jaw dropped.

Tell him to keep brushing you.

After a moment, Malef resumed brushing, but he was still shaking. Borisin flinched several times at his touch.

He wants to know what’s going on, Borisin said.

Tell him—

I know what to tell him, but you’re going to have to give him a moment. Remember what it was like the first time you heard me.

Rudiger nodded. That was fair. He had expected Malef to be shocked, but he hadn’t really considered just how shocked he might be. But there was no denying talking to a horse for the first time was a difficult thing to accept.

He’s starting to get the hang of how to reply, Borisin said.

Malef was certainly trembling less. He wiped some sweat from his brow, and smiled at Rudiger.

He says this is truly remarkable, Borisin said, and I’m an even more remarkable horse than he thought. He’s right there.

“So, you were saying about warhorses,” Rudiger said aloud.

“Oh, uh…” Malef said.

Don’t confuse him, Borisin said. It’s a lot for him at the moment. Don’t make him speak and think something different at the same time yet. Even you’re not that good at that.

Got it, Rudiger said. “I should tell you about how I acquired Borisin and his training. It’s not the most exciting story in the world, to tell the truth, but…”

“Yes, yes,” Malef said. “Please do.”

As Rudiger relayed the tale, Borisin kept him updated on Malef’s progress.

I’ve explained the situation to him, Borisin said. He says he thinks this is a good way to talk about sensitive topics. He just wishes he’d had some warning beforehand.

“From the moment I first saw him, I knew we were meant to be together.” Tell him there was no way to warn him.

He understands that. He wants to know what ideas you have for killing Lidda.

Tell him I think our main threat is Lamaën. We won’t get to Lidda without getting past him first. So we either have to take him out first or get to her when he’s not around.

He agrees that Lamaën is the dangerous one. What do you have in mind?

The other day, he and Lidda were talking about Slay. There’s some sword called Daemonslayer, and Slay might be that sword. They don’t know, but there’s a way to find out. Lamaën could take it to some monks somewhere. Lidda wants to go on that trip, but if Malef can somehow convince her not to, we’d have a period without Lamaën around.

Right, Borisin said. Wait a minute, won’t that mean you won’t have Slay? What about the dragon?

I’m not sure yet. Just tell Malef.

“You’ve gone silent,” Malef said.

“Sorry, lost in thought,” Rudiger said. “I was thinking about this time Borisin and me got stuck in a swamp. It was shortly after I got him…”

Told you you weren’t very good at it, Borisin said, adding an out loud snort. Anyway, I’ve filled him in. While he thinks getting Lamaën out of the way is a good idea, he shares my concerns about not having Slay.

Fair, we need to figure out something there. Tell him—

“Time’s up!” Lidda called.

Rudiger looked towards her. “What? No way that was half an hour.”

“It most certainly was,” she said. “Malef, I will be retiring to my apartments shortly, and I’m in the mood for some company tonight. Join me there in an hour once you’ve washed the stench of that horse off you.”

Malef bowed his head. “With pleasure, my dear.”

“Guards, escort the Prince and Lord Fonivan to their respective apartments. See you shortly, my dear.” She strode away, followed by several guards.

Malef came around Borisin and offered his arm. “Always a pleasure, my friend.”

“Likewise.” Rudiger clutched his arm, and they hugged and kissed cheeks.

He says nights with Lidda are not things he looks forward to anymore, Borisin said. However, he’ll do his best to please her. She might be willing to talk to him that way. Gods, I almost feel sorry for him having to lie with that horrid woman.

As the guards led him and Malef out of the stall, Rudiger said, See, that didn’t go so badly.

I suppose so. I still don’t like him.

Rudiger chuckled. Yes, you do.

Nope. No way.

Talk to you next week, pal. Love you.

Back at you.