the mountain to make that dragon listen to us even if it kills me.”
“Lazuli?” Kine’s eyes bugged out.
“No!” Sandon rolled his eyes. “The gold dragon.”
There was a long pause. “I’m not sure that’s better,” the soldier said, rubbing his chin with a wry smirk. “All dragons are dangerous. On the battlefield, we learned not to get in their way, and duck if they suddenly flew low. What makes you think this Gold will help you if it hasn’t lifted a finger yet?”
“Nothing.” Sandon waved his empty hands and shrugged. “But it’s the best idea I have, and honestly, I can’t just sit here and do nothing while my father plans his own funeral.”
Kine looked at Sandon with something akin to respect. “I have to agree—it’s exactly what I’d do in your place. But I’ve got one more question for you, and this one’s not as easy. If you go off to bother this golddragon, and it’s crazy or upset and it kills you, how is that helping your father or Hartfall?”
Pausing, Sandon stared at the hilt of the soldier’s ever-present sword. A kingfisher, a crown, and a rose. Hope rose up in his chest, unbidden. “It’s not going to kill me. It’s going to trust me.” He felt a grin spreading across his features, the first smile since he’d seen his father meet with the draconian on the field.
“Why?”
“Because I just had a great idea. It might not recognize me as heir to the baronial throne, but it will respect me—because I’ll be escorted by a Knight of Solamnia. No matter how crazy that dragon is, it has to respect the ancient oaths that the dragons made to Huma and his order. I may not be a knight like you, but I’m just as brave. I don’t need to be sworn in order to act like one.”
“Hey, now wait a minute, I told you, I’m not—” Kine protested.
Sandon interrupted quickly. “By the guest law, when you asked for succor, you were swearing to all of its tenets. That means you swore ‘to do no harm and aid in all ways.’ Right?”
“Right.” Kine winced. “Oh, swords afire. I see where this is headed.”
“Directly up the side of a mountain,” Sandon said, shoving his extra canteen into Kine’s hands. “You’re going with me.”
The first hours of their trek were the easiest. Once they’d slipped out of the keep—easy enough, given how preoccupied everyone was—the roads that led toward the mountains were clear-cut, if overgrown from lack of use. Sandon had abandoned his armor back in his room because it was too heavy for climbing, but he kept his hand on his sword hilt, ever ready for bandits to appear out of the woods like wolves. They moved slowly and carefully over hollows and brushy vales where Sandon had played as a young boy. The fields around Hartfall were half-blackened, and the signs of Lazuli’s displeasure still marked several areas where the blue dragon had scarred the earth. He was obviously quite big, judging by the marks of his claws on stone and earth, and his lightning breath not only set the crops on fire, but scorched earth and air alike, leaving a thick crust of greasy ash wherever Lazuli spent his rage.
A few people could be seen working the fields that still held green and growing crops, but those fields werefew and far between, the last arable land that the Blue allowed them. Even those paltry fields were protected by farmers carrying pitchforks, walking the edges of their fields like soldiers on patrol to keep out bandits and carry a watchful eye for enemies. If the town of Hartfall was so quiet that it seemed half empty, the fields looked plenty full of people desperate to protect their only livelihood in these last weeks before harvest. More than their livelihood, Sandon realized. Their very lives. If those fields were burned, most of the people in town wouldn’t have food for the winter. Hunting would help when they could slip out into the forest without being caught by bandits—or draconians!—but every trip would be a
“Lazuli?” Kine’s eyes bugged out.
“No!” Sandon rolled his eyes. “The gold dragon.”
There was a long pause. “I’m not sure that’s better,” the soldier said, rubbing his chin with a wry smirk. “All dragons are dangerous. On the battlefield, we learned not to get in their way, and duck if they suddenly flew low. What makes you think this Gold will help you if it hasn’t lifted a finger yet?”
“Nothing.” Sandon waved his empty hands and shrugged. “But it’s the best idea I have, and honestly, I can’t just sit here and do nothing while my father plans his own funeral.”
Kine looked at Sandon with something akin to respect. “I have to agree—it’s exactly what I’d do in your place. But I’ve got one more question for you, and this one’s not as easy. If you go off to bother this golddragon, and it’s crazy or upset and it kills you, how is that helping your father or Hartfall?”
Pausing, Sandon stared at the hilt of the soldier’s ever-present sword. A kingfisher, a crown, and a rose. Hope rose up in his chest, unbidden. “It’s not going to kill me. It’s going to trust me.” He felt a grin spreading across his features, the first smile since he’d seen his father meet with the draconian on the field.
“Why?”
“Because I just had a great idea. It might not recognize me as heir to the baronial throne, but it will respect me—because I’ll be escorted by a Knight of Solamnia. No matter how crazy that dragon is, it has to respect the ancient oaths that the dragons made to Huma and his order. I may not be a knight like you, but I’m just as brave. I don’t need to be sworn in order to act like one.”
“Hey, now wait a minute, I told you, I’m not—” Kine protested.
Sandon interrupted quickly. “By the guest law, when you asked for succor, you were swearing to all of its tenets. That means you swore ‘to do no harm and aid in all ways.’ Right?”
“Right.” Kine winced. “Oh, swords afire. I see where this is headed.”
“Directly up the side of a mountain,” Sandon said, shoving his extra canteen into Kine’s hands. “You’re going with me.”
The first hours of their trek were the easiest. Once they’d slipped out of the keep—easy enough, given how preoccupied everyone was—the roads that led toward the mountains were clear-cut, if overgrown from lack of use. Sandon had abandoned his armor back in his room because it was too heavy for climbing, but he kept his hand on his sword hilt, ever ready for bandits to appear out of the woods like wolves. They moved slowly and carefully over hollows and brushy vales where Sandon had played as a young boy. The fields around Hartfall were half-blackened, and the signs of Lazuli’s displeasure still marked several areas where the blue dragon had scarred the earth. He was obviously quite big, judging by the marks of his claws on stone and earth, and his lightning breath not only set the crops on fire, but scorched earth and air alike, leaving a thick crust of greasy ash wherever Lazuli spent his rage.
A few people could be seen working the fields that still held green and growing crops, but those fields werefew and far between, the last arable land that the Blue allowed them. Even those paltry fields were protected by farmers carrying pitchforks, walking the edges of their fields like soldiers on patrol to keep out bandits and carry a watchful eye for enemies. If the town of Hartfall was so quiet that it seemed half empty, the fields looked plenty full of people desperate to protect their only livelihood in these last weeks before harvest. More than their livelihood, Sandon realized. Their very lives. If those fields were burned, most of the people in town wouldn’t have food for the winter. Hunting would help when they could slip out into the forest without being caught by bandits—or draconians!—but every trip would be a
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