Realm of Dragons

“A nice attempt,” he said, “but you’re still ignoring the obvious. Skill will get you some of the way, but power matters, armor matters, surprise matters. There are a thousand things that go into a real fight, and it doesn’t matter if it is fair that you have them or not. All that matters is if you’re the one left at the end of it.”

“And how am I supposed to be the one with the most size and power?” Erin asked. It seemed like the commander’s way of making her feel that she wasn’t wanted. Maybe he was trying to convince her that she wasn’t meant to be here, that she was supposed to go home and be the princess her parents wanted.

“You’re not supposed to,” Commander Harr said. “You’re supposed to find your own edge. Each of our knights has something they do that is unique. Be faster than the other person, be sneakier, outthink your foes. Oh, and never assume that a battle is done until your foe is down.”

Erin saw the blur of movement from the corner of her eye and brought the haft of her spear up in time to parry Persh’s blow. She stepped to the side and struck back, kicking his feet from under him and then bringing her short spear down to rest an inch from his throat.

“Better,” Commander Harr said. “But the only way you will truly learn is to be in the world. Two of my men are about to ride a patrol. Ride with them, listen, and learn.”

“Truly?” Erin asked. She could think of nothing she wanted more. Her father would never have let her ride out into danger, yet the commander was actively sending her. Joy flared in her at the thought.

“Til and Fenir will be by the gate by now,” Commander Harr said. “You’ll need to hurry to catch them. Your horse is saddled. Tell them I sent you.”

“I will,” Erin said, turning to run down there. At the last minute, she remembered to turn and salute him. “Thank you!”

She ran to the spot where her horse was waiting, held by a groom. Erin all but leapt into the saddle, riding to the spot where two knights in half plate were waiting atop their chargers. In her chain shirt and leathers, Erin felt surprisingly vulnerable by comparison.

“The commander says that I’m to patrol with you,” she said, enjoying how easy it felt to say those words. She felt as though she belonged here in a way that she didn’t anywhere else.

“As you say,” one of the knights said. “I’m Til. This is Fenir. He doesn’t say much.”

The other knight nodded in her direction.

“We’re to set off along the East Road,” Til said. “There are reports of folk going missing out near a cluster of old crofters’ huts there.”

“Then let’s go,” Erin said. “I’m ready.”

Ready? She was practically bursting with the need to do this. She’d been hoping for something like this all her life, and now… now she had a chance to prove herself.

***

“Is it always so boring on patrol?” Erin asked. How long had they been riding now? Hours at least, with nothing to show for it except the ache that came from too long in the saddle.

“Seeing nothing is good,” Til said. “It means everything’s as it should be.”

Beside him, Fenir grunted his agreement.

They rode along a path across open ground, between fields as empty as they were beautiful. It was the kind of place Erin was sure Nerra would have liked, and for a brief moment, she missed her sister, but she knew she had to be here, doing this. Their father would never take her seriously otherwise.

They kept riding, and ahead, Erin saw a village, barely more than a hamlet, really, with people wandering the streets. There were scarecrows out in the fields beyond it, although they were poor at their job, because crows were landing on them, pecking on flesh that…

Erin almost gagged as she realized the truth: that those were people who had been tied outside there, their throats cut, their bodies left as some kind of cruel display. She looked around and saw that both Til and Fenir had come to a halt, staring out at the village.

“What’s happening here?” Erin asked.

“Hard to say,” Til replied. “Except that those aren’t villagers in that hamlet.”

“Aye,” Fenir said. It was almost the first word Erin had heard from him.

She could feel the fear in her, and the uncertainty. “If not villagers, then who?”

“Quiet,” Fenir said, and for a moment, Erin thought he was giving her an instruction.

But Til nodded. “The quiet men would be about right.”

“Quiet men?” Erin had heard of them. Her brother Vars had tried to tell her stories of them, only stopping when it became obvious to him that he wasn’t going to get her to scream in fear by doing it. “What are southerners doing here?”

“Hard to say,” Til said. He looked around, then nodded to one of the scarecrows. “We need to leave, before we end up like them.”

“Leave?” Erin demanded. She could hardly believe her ears. She could feel her anger rising, pushing down her fear the same way it had with the bandits. “Leave them to get away with what they’ve done?”

“We need to go and report this to the commander,” Til said. “We don’t know how many there are, or how they’re armed. It’s too dangerous to go into that village.”

“We’re supposed to be knights!” Erin insisted.

“And a part of that is knowing to follow orders,” Til shot back. “Our job on patrol is to deal with minor threats and report the rest back. We need to do it now, too. Do you think they aren’t watching us? That they wouldn’t bring us down if we were in bow range?”

Erin knew that everything the knight was suggesting was sensible. It was probably even the right thing to do, but right then, staring at the scarecrows they’d made of men and women, she knew she couldn’t just turn around and walk away. She couldn’t do it, any more than she’d been able to walk away when she heard about the bandits who had attacked the villagers before. She was supposed to be royal, and if that didn’t mean she was there to protect people, what did it mean?

“Fenir,” Til said. “You head back to the Spur with the princess. Bring back at least a dozen. I’ll sit and keep watch.”

Fenir nodded in response, as if it were the most obvious thing to do.

“You’re going to sit here?” Erin said. “You’re going to wait? For all we know, they might be about to leave.”

“What else would you have me do?” Til demanded, his voice booming from inside his helm.

Erin could still feel the fear pulsing up inside her, urging her to turn back, urging her to do what the knights suggested. She ignored it, gripping her spear tighter. This wasn’t the time to give in to fear, or doubt, or caution. She would be the warrior that she knew she was, not a scared little girl, and not a princess.

“I’d have you do this,” she said, and heeled her horse forward, heading for the village, whatever the danger it held.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

Greave had never met anyone like Aurelle before. She led him down through the castle, into the spaces where the long period of feasting and celebration for the wedding was ongoing. These were spaces open to anyone who wished to come, letting in ordinary folk as easily as nobles to celebrate Lenore’s upcoming wedding. Greave tensed as they entered the main feasting hall, then felt Aurelle’s touch there, gentle on his arm.

“Is everything all right, my prince?” she asked.

“I normally avoid so many people,” he said. “They stare at me as if they know everything that is wrong with me.”

Aurelle laughed as though he had made a joke, even though he hadn’t. “They look at you because you are the most beautiful man here.”

Greave flinched again at that, because his brothers, and even his father, had used his looks like a weapon against him. Vars and Rodry had always said he looked too girlish, while his father … he looked too much like his mother for his father’s liking.

“It is not how I feel,” Greave said.

Aurelle turned to him. “Greave, I promise you that I find you the handsomest man in this room, and you are more than that, as well. From what I hear, you are learned, and thoughtful, and kind.”

Greave didn’t know how to answer that. He strove to be all of those things, because he could not bring himself to add to the cruelty or stupidity of the world. With Aurelle’s touch on his arm, for a brief moment he felt as though he actually was the things she thought of him.