Chapter 3

Of a day filled with training and bickering, the night was most looked forward to. When a fire’s radiance would cast off the chills of the day, replacing it with comforting warmth. As the air would fill with the pleasing scent of a burning logs, they’d cuddle close and enjoy one another’s company, forgetting the troubles, if but a moment, that lurked on the horizon.

Instead of that arrangement, Arcturus found himself within the halls of a moderately welcoming tavern. One called the grey muzzle, sitting on the far outskirts of town, away from the hustle and bustle of the docks and market. The knight questioned the owner’s wisdom in opening such an establishment here, but it was one where they drew the least attention. While he might have been a face in the crowd in the streets, soon forgotten with a passing, the accompaniment of his draconic companion ensured everyone knew that he was that Lumarian that was visiting.

He held tight his tankard of spiked cider, the taste of apples and cinnamon still massaging his tastebuds. It warmed the soul and soothed his bones. Other places they might have gotten looks of ire or resentment for lingering within Struport’s walls, but this place was something else. There was no music to enchant the air, nor dancing to entertain the eye. There were no songs, no chatter, just a few scattered patrons, keeping to themselves and enjoying their meager meals. Perhaps this was the typical aura of this place, or by chance they were of a seedy lot, put off by Arcturus’ noble look, or it was the large dragon currently laying upon his belly, wings pinned and back towards the fire, his tail resting atop the logs.

The winter winds whistled across the tavern’s weathered walls, wood that had seen many seasons, possibly even more than Arcturus had been alive. It seemed to almost sway and moan, a hypnotic fashion that made them swear that at any moment the walls would collapse upon themselves. Though small, they’d taken to pushing tables and chairs away from Veledar’s spot, doing their best to allow the dragon to rest without changing his shape. Despite this arrangement it had done little to sway the dragon’s most scathing remarks before relenting and taking his spot.

“I’m just saying it doesn’t excuse them. They should get a rug of some sort, a sheet. Something to hide the embarrassment of a place this is. I mean, expecting me to sully my scales upon it?” Veledar snorted, placing a paw to his chest, “It’s like they don’t get dragons here.”

“No one expects dragons here.” Arcturus replied with a sly grin, already knowing this argument. “Hence why the walls are meant for smaller folk. You could change your size as to better fit your surroundings.” He gestured to thin lines upon the ceiling’s rafters, where signs of Veledar’s horns making contact could be seen.

The dragon pulled back, gasping as though he were offended, “After a day’s work filled with arduous tasks? Of embarrassment that grind away at my patience? That leave me asking the question why I don’t yank my Umraadi away and find another place with more agreeable weather?” He flared his frills as the man took a sip, clearly not giving into his complaints. Eyes of fire shot to the door to the kitchens, where the elder wolven was currently busy, currently cooking their meal. “Why do we frequent this place again?”

“You chose it.”

“No, I would never.” He grunted, rolling his eyes, “I would never have this little taste.”

Arcturus shifted in his weathered chair, it creaked like the rest of this place. At another sip of his drink, the day’s troubles seemed a bit softer. But even then, his memories came to haunt him. In the wood of this place, he could see knots that reminded him of Dread Flame’s scaled visage, the dragon that had taken his family from him. The knight’s brow hardened as he recalled that creature’s vicious laugh, even as it died. He closed his eyes, trying to command it to leave, only accomplishing a heavy sigh, “Do you think it’s because you’ve got us kicked out of all the others?”

“Again, besmirching my good name. Don’t lay all the blame on me metal pants, your affiliation let me say with your homeland may also play a part in our meager offerings.”

“What was the last place’s reason.” He rubbed his beard, meeting the dragon’s sharpened gaze, “Oh yes.” He snapped his finger, “I believe it was, a barrel of dying cats had more rhythm.”

The dragon shifted his snout with a heavy sigh, “I think that was their excuse for not providing adequate legroom. They get the occasional gryphon Arcturus; they should prepare their establishments for larger patrons! Dragons in this case.”

“You suggest they prepare for the smallest margin of patrons? Simply because you were inconvenienced?”

The answer was blunt, accompanied with such a huff that it ruffled the man’s hair, “Yes. Besides, that twit of a tavern couldn’t appreciate the draconic verses that I showered you with. It was a love song!”

“But did it have to be so loud?” He shook his head, “You practically shook the tavern.”

“It must be song loudly and proudly.” He held his head high, till his horns traced the ceiling, “To do otherwise would question the singer’s commitment.”

“And then there was the other place, the laughing goblin was it? Lost your concentration over a heated game of dragonchess, grew to your size…In the ensuing draconic banter, I’m surprised the poor halfling had any furniture left.”

“They were covered by insurance.” The dragon scoffed, “By that little guy, Fred was it?”

“He looked like he wanted to murder you.”

“With his small arms? I’d like to see him try.”

“How about the portly pig?” The paladin pressed the dragon, slicing off a section of cheese off a plate in the center of the table. “Do you recall how we were kicked out of that?”

“I’m sure you’re about to give a very biased opinion on the subject.” Veledar groaned, shifting himself until his backside faced the man. The table was bumped, nearly being knocked clean over. “But how I remember it, all those people were trying to grope me!”

“I believe they were trying to pet you. You’re exaggerating.”

“Only but a little.” Hissed the dragon, turning to him, a glint in his eye. “Oh mister dragon, it’s such an honor. Oh dragon, your scales are fine, can I take one home to my ugly wife? Oh dragon, may I go grab my cousin to pet you?” His frills flared as he recounted multiple other encounters, every voice more outrageous than the rest. “It’s like these unwashed masses have never heard of personal space before.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, seeing Veledar battle the want to be loved and the unwanted attention that went with it. “Here I thought you liked getting people to pet you.” He tapped his chin, a sly smile upon his lips as Veledar met it with a harsh snort, eyes like swords. “That a young girl back in Deet, that you offered to trade that for information?”

“Ah, but it had a purpose, and I offered.” Countered Veledar with a grin, “If you were trying to make a point you failed!”

“Perhaps you should instead focus on how much they adore you. Certainly, better than the looks of distain and ire that I receive.” He took another swig of his drink, thankful that the people here didn’t seem to care where he was from.  “Instead of snarling at them, you could be the friendly face of dragon kind.”

“Bah, leave that to the peppy likes of Fremra and her children. I’m more than content to have the humans and wolves around here adore and fawn over me at a distance-“ He waggled a wing to the door, “Perhaps out of eye shot or my wonderful nose. It can only handle so many unwashed apes and dogs in such a small place.”

“With a response like that, they’ll be banishing you out of here with week old vegetables.”

“Hah, and waste the food?” He scoffed, “I doubt any human would be dumb enough for that Arcturus.” He rolled a paw to his chest, “Do I look like one of those animals stuck in your human prisons? Where they are forced to tricks for your amusement?”

“A circus?” Arcturus rose his brow as dragon grabbed a large pot upon the table, the innkeeper unable to find a tankard large enough for the best. Amber liquid slathered the dragon’s jaw, dripping down to join the stains of years past.

“Yes, that. Do these passing humans think I’m here for their amusement? That I will do tricks and feats marvelous to their eyes whenever they demand?” Veledar burped, leaving a honey flavored scent upon the air. He tilted his eye down to the empty bowl with a disappointed growl, “Least the mead here is passable, otherwise it would be the absolute worst tavern that I’ve visited.”

“You’re being hyperbolic.”

“Only just a little bit.” He waggled a wing, “But still, sooner the other two legs learn that only you can touch me, the sooner I don’t have to snap at them.”

“I could get a sign to hang on you.” Replied the knight, sipping at his cider, “Beware of dragon, doesn’t want to be touched.”

“And you mock me for being ridiculous? You think of this as a jest Arcturus, but honestly, I’m doing them a favor in the long run. Touch the wrong dragon and-“ He snapped his jaws together with a growl, “They go missing a hand…A leg, or perhaps the dragon burns down their little dens.” He shot up, eyes locked upon the door as his stomach practically howled in demand. “Now this is getting ridiculous. We sent word ahead of our arrival, the hog should have been finished by now!” The dragon’s claws kneaded into the floor, his eyes squinting, “At this point, I should march on in there and cook it myself.”

Here they went again. “Are you trying to get us thrown out of every establishment in Struport?” Groaned Arcturus, “You know what happened with the Trixie Troll.”

“That the half-elf couldn’t accept fair a bit of criticism.”

“You tossed his soup at him.”

“It was cold!” Snarled Veledar, “What did you expect me to do?”

“Heat it up, you can make fire!”

“Which isn’t the point!” Veledar rolled his eyes, “We paid for their meat, it should come cooked and ready for devouring! Otherwise, what good are they.”

“If the service leaves you wanting, why even bother my dearest dragon?” He gestured to his limbs, “Your claws are sharp, your eyes vigilant, no one hunts to your equal save the gryphons. So go out and get out own meal!”

Veledar turned to him, eyes like steel. “And go out into the cold like some sort of Ilbir? Do I appear to be covered in dead pelts? Do you know how the wind bites at my scales?”

“Yes.” Arcturus sighed, swishing his drink, “You mention it every time we leave the warm safety of indoors.”

“And yet how it affects me clearly eludes you, you’d think you’d show more empathy for a paladin.”

“I do, but the way you prattle on, I’m surprised you survive any winter with such an acute allergy.”

“Don’t you dare go dragging me on heroic quests and then lambast me with taunts! If you and your friends had any sense like me, you’d hibernate for the winter and escape all this cold to begin with!” As the dragon got more heated with his words, it drew many an eye from around them, each filled with more concern than the last. How could they not, most taverns were allergic to fire breathing dragons.

Arcturus laughed and dissuaded their fears, “No need for alarm, the dragon is merely upset at having to fit within such a small place. He’s usually very nice.”

“Why not eat outside then?” Asked a man with one eye, a cigar in one wrinkled hand.

“Outside? Did you not just hear how it ails me?” Veledar thumped his tail with a growl, rattling the tables, “Or are you suggesting that I go eat like some sort of animal?” He rose, nostrils flaring, nearly catching his horns upon the ceiling. “Do I look like some sort of animal human?”

The man slapped shut his mouth and returned to his drink with shaking hands.

“That’s what I thought.” Veledar returned to his resting place, only to continue ranting and muttering about their abysmal accommodations. “Lumara may have been terrible, but at least they built their establishments remotely large enough for me!”

He sighed and rested a hand upon the dragon’s scales, hoping to sooth the raging spirit within. Gentle he stroked with tender care, like numerous times before, casting his spell over the sapphire eyed beast. It always worked, despite his sharp tongue and blusterous attitude, chipping away until the dragon’s snout was clamped shut, fighting a rumble deep in his scaled throat. Soon it was like a dam had broke, the dragon unable to hold in in any longer. There was soon a purr as he pressed into Arcturus’ touch.

“You bastard.” He muttered softly, curling around the human, nearly around the table as well. “This won’t work every time.”

“It seems to work most of them.” He countered, moving on to caress the dragon’s sensitive frills at the edge of his snout. At a touch he found a scaled head thrust into his chest with such force he was nearly toppled backward onto the floor. “Are you trying to trap me in the chair now?”

“Possibly. Will it keep your affection coming?”

Everyone who might have been concerned with the dragon’s growing frustration could breathe a sigh of relief. The dragon slayer that once might have taken care of the beast with sword or arrow had instead done so with what amounted to a massage. Those that had been watching with frightful dispositions found themselves cheering for the man who they now regarded as a master dragon tamer. Unfortunately for these well-intentioned folks, this just happened to be the worst words that one could utter to a dragon, perhaps only followed by insisting that their scales had the density of a human’s flesh.

In a crack of his tail Veledar was up on all fours, his eyes crackling with thunder.  His snarl was harsh and draining of men’s faces, and past the point of Arcturus’ soothing touch.  What came next was a ten-minute rant over where the man had gone wrong, explaining just how insulting that it was to dragon kind, followed by the dragon coming up with a few colorful expressions about the man’s mother that made even the knight’s cheeks blush. Sadly, it did not end there. The moment he’d had his say and silenced every person within the establishment, the dragon’s eyes traveled to the dismayed paladin then to the still closed kitchens.

“And that’s it, no one could expect to have more patience than this.” Growled Veledar with a flick of his tail, practically stomping his way to the door, swinging it open and squeezing himself inside. “Do you know how long we’ve been waiting for this slop that you call food? I have right the mind to take back my coin by force! Do you give other people such terrible service? Do you know just who we are?”

Arcturus stared into drink, guessing this would be the last time he tasted this place’s concoctions. “Yup, was nice while it lasted.” He sighed, swinging his head back and downing the last drops as Veledar’s complaints thundered through the walls. Perhaps the temples would allow them visiting, they were not known to turn away those looking. Though on second thought, he didn’t know how patient the clerics of Fureen would be with such a picky guest. As he grumbled and stood, ready to grab his cloak and go, he spied something he hadn’t before.

Secluded in one of the far corners, as though they were trying to hide, was a familiar dwarven face, Merlia. She was plumped down in an old chair of oak, a slender pipe between her lips exuding slender whisps of smoke that curled around her fiery, braided hair. Black leather boots tipped in steel were propped up on stool, a perfect example of relaxation. By the look of her half finished plate, she’d already eaten, but her emerald eyes were not glossed over with ale or satisfaction. No, they lay upon a small trinket between her palms that she kept rolling over, looking more lost with every repetition.

“So, this is where you’ve gotten off to.” He said with a tired smile, sitting across from her before she gave permission. “You know Krotos was mighty sore you left him with, and I quote, balls hanging out. How are you and him these days, I never see you too together. Have a falling out?”

“When I want to be alone.” She grunted, not paying the paladin a glance, “Guess I have to be looking for another place eh?”

“I don’t know.” He gestured to the kitchens, where Veledar’s muffled voice could still be heard, “Give him a few minutes and you won’t have to worry about us.”

She scoffed at the notion, setting down her jewel and fixing Arcturus with a hardened gaze. One resembling that of her mountain home to the south, “What ya want from me lad? I don’t got time for your wee games you be playing. You play hero and soldier while a devil on wings descends upon ya. You shouldn’t be looking to throw your life away in such a matter.”

He was taken back, especially for a follow of the dwarven god Thor. Usually, they were all about honorable combat, and running away when there could be people to defend was certainly not that. “How much have you had to drink?” He pointed to a tankard resting beside her plate, “Cause I’d never thought I’d hear that you’d want to let Asterion win your little wager.”

“Bah, he’s not the great example of great thinkers. Bull would batter his head against the sky if ya told him it would put up a great fight.” She narrowed her gaze, voice turning bitter, “And not that much of drink have I had. Least not enough to waste my time trying to defending people that don’t want us helping.”

His arms crossed as she took a drag from her pipe before laughing at his demeanor.

“And look at you, all madder than a lass stood up on her weddin night. If Krotos can’t handle getting knocked around by your baby of a dragon and your metal britches, tell him I have a small violin to play him.” She huffed, shifting in her seat, “Bout time he be toughening up anyway. Do any of you listen to ole Merlia? No, not even if she been fightin longer than all of ya have been livin.” She took another drag of her pipe and stared off to the frost tinted windows, more lost than Arcturus had ever seen her.

“Why this place though?” He gestured to their meager surroundings, “I know my reason for being here, it’s large, won’t shut his snout and refuses to hunt for his meals because and I quote, “It serves us right for making him fly about a frozen tundra.” What’s yours?”

She shrugged, “Food be alright, drink decenter than most. Hard pressed to find dwarven stuff within the city itself. But me and the wolf that runs this place? We go way back, when he was but a pup. Besides-“ She gestured to the kitchens with a chortle, “Free entertainment.”

“Perhaps I should check up on him.”

Merlia groaned, “There ya go, off ta rescue the wee dragon without his say so.”

He paused, catching the hint of resentment in that remark. She’d always been game for adventures before, just the thrill of traveling around seemed to satisfy whatever fueled her. “He might hurt the man if he’s not careful, unless you’ve forgotten he’s a dragon. You’ve seen what accidents follow in his wake, especially his tail.”

“And so? You hear the dragon asking for his knight?” She mocked, leaning out with a hand on her ear. Nothing answered but the continued argument beyond the walls. “Nothin.”

“Is this really about Veledar?” His brow rose.

“Course it aint.” She slammed down the jewel, “Arcturus, look around ya. No one gives a donkey’s arse about ya here. I can’t figure what else could keep ya here besides your blasted, good for nothin code.”

“Of which it says is the right thing to do. There are people here that need us, defend the innocent said nothing of asking their permission.” He bit his tongue about one of the real reasons of their stay, the orb of dragon kind still back at the keep. He’d promised to keep it secret, even from his closest friends, “What other choice do we have? Run with our tails betwixt our legs like little goblins? Leave Lyndis’ people to be killed by a ravenous hoard or burned to death by dragons? Or do you have that little respect for one of your friends.”

Her eyes became sharper than her arrow heads as she took a sip of her tankard, “I never agreed to anything with that lass. That was the lot of you, too dumb or stubborn to know when it’s time to leave. Know how I got to be two hundred years boy?”

“How that?” He responded sarcastically.

“By not dying! You’ve seen the look in their eyes, heard the reports of the lands getting over-run. Why, people be leaving by the boatload, more brains than you’ve got between your ears! Hopes dead Arcturus, the waters be coming to get us, be smart for once and have us go, before we all drown in your little spat with that evil dragon of yours.”

He grit his teeth, it wasn’t only about Dreadflame was it? The blood red dragon’s face tormented his mind as an uneasy silence settled between the pair. He ended it with a growl, almost draconic in nature itself. “Dreadflame has nothing to do with my decision. I gave my word to Lyndis and Emerald Lady to keep something precious safe. That is what I’m doing. If you can’t handle that Merlia, you can pack up, head out the misty pass and leave us behind. Survive, it’s what you said you’re good at.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to get across to ya boy!” She gnashed her teeth, “These knights and folks treat ya like ye went and pounded their mum’s caves! You’re the one with something to prove, leave them to their decisions. Sometimes it be smarter to retreat and regroup, not stick it out to the bitter end.”

“Where is this coming from?” He scowled, searching the dwarf’s face for any sign of deception. Perhaps this was a face to hide her nervousness? Unwilling to admit it? “I’ve seen you face metal dragons, armies of Lumarian soldiers, befriend the gryphon that stole Krotos, hell, even stand up to the Emerald Lady.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice, “What’s going on that has you so frightful that you don’t wish to tell me?”

She tossed the gem to him, taking another long, drawn-out puff from her pipe. “Damned uncle thought me trustworthy enough to lead a score of warriors ta battle. Even be putting an end to my exile; Go figure. I can go home. Da clan conflict be over, its like hell itself has frozen over.”

“Well, that’s great news!” He smiled, “You’re finally going home, see the family! What’s it been, one hundred years?”

“Who knows at this point, time away all blends together.” She groaned, “But it doesn’t make a lick of difference, cause some young ninny with a magic sword wanted to play hero to a bunch of undeserving, whiny, uptight buffoons. Have ya talked to your queen about it?”

“Nivra?”

“I didn’t stutter, did I lad? Aye, the queen.”

“She’s being stubborn.” He grumbled, remembering the sharpened eyes she had as she spit his suggestion back in his face. “Won’t leave until the last minute. On a crusade of her own.”

Merlia tossed up her hands, “What’s the matter with ya humans? Are all of ya thick as dragons?”

“If it troubles you so much, why didn’t you leave with Athenais and the siigonis? The blue one?”

“Ah, old soggy.” Merlia sighed, pouring herself another drink from her flask. “Spirit shaman left down the winding river of diamonds, round the Wallowdale mountains, back to the foggy mountains. They were the smart ones…Lucky bastards.”

“And they took Ulga?”

The dwarf swallowed a lump in her throat with a silent nod. “Course, had to be done…Doesn’t mean I like it.” She wiped her eye with a sniff, “Going to miss the ole girl something fierce.”

Was this what was the route of her bad mood? He shifted in his seat, knowing the spirit reminded her of her long dead friend. “Merlia if this is what ails you, none of us would have stopped you from going.” He laid a gentle hand upon the table, “I know how important it is to have closure with those you’ve lost.”

“Don’t be silly, would have been too hard.” She waved away his hand, eyes getting wet. “Woulda been just a sobbin mess the entire time, sides.” She grabbed a handkerchief to wipe her eyes, “Got a bunch of babies that need me up here, saving them from their own stupidity. Oh, look at me, bubbling away like your wee dragon.”

“It’s alright.”

She grabbed her cloak and stood tall, giving her last sniff. “Course it is. Let’s just hope your heroics don’t get us all killed, dragon and all.” Without another word she headed for the door, heading out into the wintery winds.

Arcturus returned to his drink with a soft sigh, knowing he’d have to apologize for that, it’s not like he’d ordered her to stay. Or was that the problem? He took a slow sip, perhaps she was not one to leave a friend behind, no matter how foolish she thought his choices were.

Veledar returned with a hardly a sound, settling beside the knight on his hinds.

“Are we kicked out?” Sighed Arcturus.

“Not exactly.” Replied the dragon, “We had a lengthy debate in which colorful language was exchanged. Turns out this will be our last meal here.”

“Great.”

“At first, he threatened to throw us out, and I was like, how? You’re so tiny! But don’t worry, he promised to finish our meal without delay.” The dragon grinned, revealing he had a satchel of coins within his paws, “And we got some of our coin back for the trouble.”

“Someone has their priorities squared away.” He grumbled back, Merlia’s words still lingering upon his thoughts. Before it could fester and be properly explored, the tavern’s doors opened once again. At first he perked up, thinking it was Merlia to burry the hatchet between them, but instead it was a group of Sapphire Guardians.

They were wrapped in thick leathers and furs, signs of chain peaking through. Each was an example of stern-ness, pressing forward despite the looks they received. They were armed to the teeth, sporting rifles ready to be unslung. Clearly they had more on their minds than a simple meal from a diminutive tavern. Without hesitation they pressed forward, stopping before Arcturus and Veledar with an aura of authority.

“Arcturus Lund of Lumara, you’re coming with us.” Barked their leader, a man with a bushy beard and almond shaped eyes. There was courage in his voice, even when Veledar growled at his demand.

“And why, would I be answering such a request?” He mused, arms crossing. “I haven’t done anything wrong, that I’m aware.” He gestured to the dragon now standing tall behind him, letting his imposing stature permeate the air. “And how will it fair to my dragon’s demands.”

“And I demand that he stays.” Said Veledar with a flare of his nostrils, draining the color from the faces behind their bearded captain. “You would be wise to heed my words.”

“I would heed them if they carried any weight behind them.” Replied the guardian, tapping a holstered pistol at his hip. “But last time I was aware, it was the guardians that held positions of power in this city, not Arcturus and Crimson Sky of Lumara.”

“Lumara has not my allegiance. Neither does it Arcturus.”

“And yet, you find yourself friends with her majesty the queen.” The man’s brow rose, “How can you explain such a thing?”

This again. Arcturus scowled, knowing many still held them responsible for the demise of Storm the dragon. He’d been beloved, treasured, helped create the Sapphire Guardians themselves. “Do try and not waste our time guardian. Myself and my dragon were trying to enjoy our last meal at this establishment, you and yours seem to be providing a less than savory atmosphere.”

“You’re wanted for questions from commander Gray.” The lead knight replied, “Has an interesting revelation that occurred.” His eyes traveled to every table of the tavern, “Something not meant for other ears save yours. Especially in such a rundown establishment like this, but why am I not surprised a Lumarian finds himself in such a place.”

Interest piqued; Arcturus searched the man for deception. If he was lying, he was good at it, even under Veledar’s steeled gaze he kept his composure. Usually, these guards wanted nothing to do with him, why now? “You mean to say after the cold shoulder and scathing remarks, now you wish our opinion?” ‘I know a friend who’d tell you to shove it, but I’ll simply refuse.”

The man furrowed his brow, eyes hardening, “I’m afraid it isn’t much of a choice. You’re coming with us by your own will or in chains.”

Veledar’s nostrils flared, “And you think you’d draw a weapon by the time I’ve bathed you in flames? It’s funny you’d be one to put that to the test.”

“If we leave, we’ll only return with more dragon. You can’t shield him forever.”

“Careful now soldiers. I’ve ended people before for such threats. Perhaps when they come for him, you will be long gone.”

Arcturus stood with a sigh, letting Veledar know that it was alright. Making a mess of them would suit them no good. He laid a hand upon his neck, “Now is not the time for a measuring of dicks-“

“Because mine would clearly be superior.” Snorted the dragon.

“I’ll humor their request. There is fear about this, that much is certain. Why go through all the trouble?” He gestured to the men behind the leader, seeing nothing but seas of worry behind their gaze. Not for the dragon and him, but something else, a mystery unsaid. “Something that has them asking the Lumarian for help.”

“That can be answered by commander Gray. For now, you should come with.” The lead guard gestured friendly, “You won’t be harmed, my word is my bond.”

Veledar scoffed at the notion, “And leave him alone in your tender care? Do you take me for a fool? I’ll ferry him upon my wings to your little fort, the rest of you can ensure that we arrive. I refuse to let my Umraadi be ambushed by those that mean him harm.”

“You can’t just come.” The guard replied, his words fragmented, “I have a writ for just him.”

“And I care not for the demands of your little bit of parchment.” He growled, “He may trust you with his life, but I do not. You will yield to my demands or there will be no trip at all.” He waggled a wing for them to leave, “Return to your master and share that, see what he makes of it.”

Arcturus wedged himself between the two before another incident broke out, “Please, please. It sounds as though it’s just harmless.”

“I’m going.” Snorted Veledar, swishing his tail. “Do not deny me this Umraadi, my care for your safety is greater than your need for me to stay.”

When the paw got planted down, he knew there was no changing of the dragon’s mind. He sighed, turning to the men, and hoping for the best, “You heard him men. What you do with it is now your choice. Just let the dragon bring me there, or risk this escalating into an incident that could have been avoided.”

The guards sat silent, staring nervously into Veledar’s hardened glare. The captain cursed under his breath and relented, gesturing for them to follow. “I’ll just use the dragon excuse; gods know why it was added. I blame Storm.”

“Now let’s see what was so interesting they made this much of an entrance.” Said Arcturus, crossing his arms.

“Innkeeper! We’ll need that meal to go!” Shouted Veledar, “There appears to be no rest for dragons and knights this eve.”

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