I looked back along the dirt road and sighed; Edmund had fallen behind again.

“Edmund!” I called. “Hurry up! Come on, or I’ll leave you behind!”

“I’m coming, sir!” he replied, spurring his horse and beginning to catch up. “It’s just that this beast refuses to listen to my commands.”

“What did I tell you?” I rebutted. “You should’ve picked a smaller horse, more docile. Something like Ness here.” I bent down to stroke my mare’s mane – Ness had been my horse for years, and had accompanied me on many an outing. “Instead, you chose a young stallion. I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”

Edmund looked sheepishly at me. “Well, we’d been given our pick of horses from the Emperor’s stables; what else would I choose?”

“A gelding would have been good. We’re trying to find a dragon, remember? Colts and stallions are good on a battlefield, but not for hunting, especially not something that can fly and breathe fire,” I said. “They get spooked easily.”

“You’re right, Sir Adrian. I’m sorry.”

I pulled on the reins without another word; Ness turned and started along the road again.

Edmund had arrived at the Imperial Palace in the nick of time, the evening before I was due to depart; his father had introduced me to him – after all, I hadn’t seen him since he’d been five or six – and then we’d hurriedly picked out his equipment from the royal armoury. But he’d insisted on picking his horse himself, and after a while I’d relented. I shouldn’t have, really; I should’ve been firmer with him. We’d been on the road for several weeks, and his horse had been causing us no end of trouble.

But despite that, Edmund had been proving himself a capable squire: he obeyed my orders without question, and while he was a bit clumsy, he was able to do everything that was required of him, be it start a fire, cook dinner for the both of us, or tend to the horses. I’d even shown him how to open and close the fastenings on my plate armour, so he could help me wear it when needed. That wouldn’t be until we found the dragon, though: I preferred to wear a supple leather overcoat while travelling, since armour can get hot and stuffy and annoying quite quickly.

Truth to be told, I liked having someone to keep me company during the long stretches in which we rode through the countryside and up along the slopes of the mountains of the Western Reach, not another soul in sight. Conversation helped pass the time, and the kid had a sharp wit and inquisitive mind – his father had raised him well.

Just ahead of us, along the road, I spotted a village; it was quite large, too, about two dozen wooden houses spread out with some space between them. Just as well: it was getting late and the sun was setting. It would do us good to sleep in a proper bed and eat a good meal once in a while; we hadn’t done so since our departure from the Imperial Palace.

I brought my horse to a stop, and turned towards Edmund. “Alright, listen closely here,” I said. “The village up ahead… Try not to attract too much attention. In fact, let me do the talking.”

“Why?” Edmund asked, his eyebrows rising questioningly.

“Well, let’s just say that poor people don’t look too kindly on people who are closely associated with the Emperor. People like us.”

“…Why?” he asked again.

“You’ll learn,” I replied, and spurred Ness again.

As we approached the village, I could see several peasants working the fields around it; all of them, without exception, paused and watched us ride along the road. As we passed through the houses, too, I could feel several eyes on us, watching our every movement, some in curiosity, some… quite unkindly.

In the middle of town the road widened into a circle about fifteen metres in diameter, with several buildings around it; one I recognised by experience as an inn, and I stopped my horse in front of it and dismounted, tying the reins to a pole in front of the door. Edmund did the same, with some difficulty because of his horse’s temperament.

I looked around the square; everyone was still staring at us – two riders, their horses laden with baggage, were probably an unusual sight in those parts. There were several children who had gathered around, too; I pointed at one of them. “You, kid. Come here,” I said.

The boy looked at me wide-eyed, and then pointed at himself.

“Yes, you. Come along now,” I encouraged him.

Slowly, with visible hesitation, the child approached us; when he reached us I crouched, so our eyes were at the same level, and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Hello, friend,” I said. “What’s your name?”

“…Steven,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

I nodded. “Nice to meet you, Steven, I’m Adrian. Can you do me a favour?”

The boy just stared at me.

“You see those?” I asked, pointing at the horses a few metres away. “They’re nice horses, aren’t they?”

He nodded.

“Well, you see, we would really appreciate it if they were still here when we come back,” I continued. I rooted around into my purse, and pulled out a silver coin, holding it up so the boy could see it. “Could you help us with that?”

Steven’s eyes widened even more as he looked at the shiny piece of metal I was holding; a single silver coin was enough to feed a family of four for four days, maybe five. He nodded again.

“There’s a good kid,” I said, handing him the coin, which he took carefully in his hands as if I was giving him a holy relic. “What we would like you to do is stay out here, and just give us a shout if anyone tries to take the horses away, or tries to take anything from the bags. There’s another coin in it for you if everything’s still here when we come out.”

The boy nodded yet again, and I nodded back, rising to my feet. “See you in a while.” I motioned for Edmund to follow me, and we headed into the inn.

The inside was dark and smoky, with several people gathered around a handful of tables, tankards of ale in their hands and food spread out on plates in front of them; they were clearly peasants relaxing after a hard day of work in the fields. There was a fire happily burning away in a fireplace in one of the corners of the room, and someone who was probably the innkeeper was standing behind a counter at the far end of the room from the door. It was quite noisy when we entered, but slowly, as we made our way across the room, the sound died out, replaced by a dead silence as everyone stared at us.

I stopped in front of the counter. “Evening, good sir,” I said. “My companion and I have been on the road for quite a while, and we would like a room for the night. Do you have any available?”

The innkeeper gazed at me, narrowing his eyes. He looked me up and down, then turned his eyes to Edmund and did the same. Then he turned back to me.

“You tax collectors?” he asked brusquely.

“We are not,” I replied. “We’re just a pair of travellers, who would like to rest a while before moving on.”

He looked at me long and hard once again, then said, “That crest. On your chest. With three circles. What’re those? Balls?”

I shook my head. “They’re not. Those are eggs; I’m Adrian, the Egg Knight, and this is my squire Edmund.”

“Egg Knight?”

“It’s a funny story, actually,” I said. “My grandfather was a farmer; once, some bandits attacked a noble near his farm, and he hid the noble in the chicken coop so the bandits wouldn’t find him. Because of that, the Emperor made him a Knight. The first Egg Knight. I’m the third one.”

The innkeeper tilted his head to the side, and then spat to the floor. “Knights are trouble.”

I shrugged. “I assure you, sir, we bring no trouble with us. And there shall be no trouble at all, unless someone here starts it.”

A long pause; you could hear a pin drop. Then: “Three silvers, each of you. Meals are one silver each, extra.”

“Three silvers?!” Edmund protested. “But–”

I held up a hand to shush him. “We will need stabling for our horses, too. And hay and oats, if you have them.”

“Two silvers for each horse,” the innkeeper said.

“Done.”

“Welcome to my inn, fellas.”

The atmosphere inside the inn relaxed immediately. Since the innkeeper had agreed to put us up for the night we were now his guests, and hospitality is sacred: we were under his protection, and no one would ever dream of breaking that.

I turned to Edmund, pulled out a silver coin from my purse and handed it to him. “Go out, give this to Steven, and thank him,” I said. “Then bring the horses around the back to the stables, and come back here.”

Edmund nodded, and was off. I pulled up a stool and sat down at the counter. “May I have an ale, please? I sorely need one.”

“Ales are one copper each.”

Wordlessly, I pulled out a copper coin from my purse and placed it on the counter.

-----

“I still don’t understand why you let him fleece you like that, Sir Adrian,” Edmund protested as we left the village the next morning, our stomachs full and our supplies replenished. “We paid what, twelve silvers? Thirteen?”

“Fourteen, and sixteen coppers,” I replied. “I bought a few rounds of ale last night.”

“That’s my point! That’s enough for a night’s stay in one of the best inns in the Imperial Capital,” he said. “Which is a far cry from that… Hole.”

“But we slept well, did we not?” I rebutted.

“…It beat sleeping outside, yes,” Edmund admitted.

I nodded. “Plus, I was able to ply the locals, to get some information, which we otherwise wouldn’t have.”

His eyebrows rose. “Information?”

“Yes, information. Like the location of the dragon we are seeking.”

His eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open. “You mean…?”

“Our prey has been spotted in the mountains, half a day’s ride from here.” I smirked. “So we’d better hurry; we want to find it before having to make camp for the night if at all possible.”

“You’re amazing, Sir Adrian,” Edmund said. “I mean, my father had told me about you, but… I had no idea you were this good.”

“An old dog can teach some tricks.”

He scratched his head. “I don’t think that’s how the saying went.”

“Doesn’t matter,” I replied. “Let’s be off.”

Seven hours later, we stopped for lunch in a clearing in the woods. After dismounting our horses, Edmund opened our packs, and pulled out some rye bread and salted meat and pickled vegetables. I’d insisted on buying those from the village, since I knew from experience that eating only bread and meat and cheese would do a number on your stomach, and besides I liked the taste. Edmund set out to prepare our meal, while I scanned the horizon.

I’d been in the mountains a few times before, and there was something… wrong. I mean, the landscape looked pretty much the same as it always did, but there wasn’t a single animal to be seen. No deer, no wolves, not even a marmot poking its head out from its burrow; there weren’t even any birds of prey circling in the sky. It was almost as if everything was in hiding.

No, scratch that. There was a bird of prey, high in the air, swooping lazily around. But it looked weird; the shape was peculiar, it looked almost like…

“Hurry up with that meal, Edmund. And pull my armour and crossbow out of the bags after you’re done,” I said.

Edmund looked up at me. “Why? What’s the matter?”

Wordlessly, I pointed at the shape I’d spotted circling in the sky. My squire looked at it, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hands, and then went pale.

“That’s…”

“That’s the dragon, yes,” I replied. “We’re actually quite lucky, I thought it would take us a lot more time to find it.”

“What do we do?” he asked, a tinge of panic in his voice.

I put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Like I said: first of all, we have lunch. Can’t fight on an empty stomach. Then you help me put on my armour, and we go off and fight it.”

Edmund nodded, and resumed making lunch, while I kept an eye on the beast circling above, as to not lose track of it. Within ten minutes we were done with our meal, and my squire extricated my armour from the depths of our baggage.

“Double check each fastener,” I said, as he closed them. “I really don’t want my breastplate to come off in the middle of a battle, especially not against a dragon.”

“Yes, sir,” Edmund said; I could see his hands were shaking a bit. “How big do you think it is?”

“Hard to say,” I replied. “It’s difficult to judge distance when it’s in the air like that. It can be small and close, or big and far away.”

“And what do we do if we can’t kill it?” he asked, rising to his feet, grabbing my crossbow, and handing it to me.

I stared at him. “If I can’t kill it, you mean. I promised your father I would keep you safe, so I’m giving you a direct order: do not attempt to fight the dragon. Even if it seems I’m in danger, even if you think you can help. You stay back, and let me handle it.”

“Yes, Sir Adrian,” he answered. “And what if you can’t kill it? What then?”

I gave him an unsteady smile. “Well then, I guess I’ll die; ain’t no way out of that, it’s either it or me. As for you…” I looked Edmund straight in the eye. “If worse comes to worst, I want you to ride away, all the way back to the capital, and tell the other knights there what has happened.”

Edmund nodded, and we got back on our horses. I locked my armour to the saddle – didn’t want to get thrown off my horse in the middle of a fight – and looked up again. The dragon was still circling overhead, seemingly without a care.

I raised my crossbow, took aim, and let the bolt fly.

“Ranging shot,” I said, handing the crossbow to Edmund without taking my eyes off the bolt. “Reload.”

The bolt flew high and fast, straight towards the dragon… who dodged it well before the missile’s arcing trajectory brought it back to earth.

Huh. Closer than expected. Guess the dragon wasn’t that big after all, it was probably just twice as large as Edmund’s stallion. Which was still quite large, but not so much as I’d feared.

The dragon tilted its wings and veered towards us.

“It’s coming,” I said.

Edmund handed me the crossbow, and I took it, again taking aim at the descending beast. It came in low, just above the treetops, and passed overhead. From that distance I could gauge its size properly, and saw that I’d been right: big, but not enormous.

I pulled the trigger, and the second bolt went flying; it missed the dragon by a few feet, and it swooped back and landed across the clearing from us, on top of a tree, which bent under its weight but didn’t snap. It was thirty, maybe forty metres away from us.

Now I could see it clearly: it had a scaly hide, four limbs, a long tail, and a pair of wings sprouting from its shoulders; its head was tall and thin, its mouth full of sharp teeth. It was a fearsome sight.

It spread its wings and roared; I felt Ness shift nervously beneath me. “Easy, girl,” I muttered, bending forward to rub her neck reassuringly.

I handed my crossbow to Edmund again. “Reload,” I said, giving his horse a side-glance – it looked really spooked, ready to bolt.

The dragon didn’t do anything while Edmund reloaded my crossbow; it just sat there, looking at us in curiosity.

“Here you are, sir,” Edmund said, offering me my crossbow. I took it, and aimed it at the dragon again.

Dumb beast. Just sitting there, letting me take aim at you. You don’t realise what I’m doing, do you? Well, all the better for me.

I pulled the trigger.

The bolt flew straight and true, directly towards the dragon’s heart… and was incinerated in mid-air by a puff of flame from one of the dragon’s nostrils.

I was stunned; my eyes widened in surprise.

The dragon roared again, and took flight, directly towards us.

“Edmund, look out!” I shouted, pulling on the reins as it belched fire in our direction, missing us by a few metres.

It was too much for Ness; the poor mare was thoroughly spooked. She reared up under me, trying to throw me off, but to no avail: my armour was secured to the saddle. Then she put her front hooves back on the ground, and ran off.

“Sir Adrian!” I heard Edmund shout; I turned my head to look at him, and saw that his horse had bolted, too – in an entirely different direction as mine. I saw him disappear through the trees.

“Whoa, girl!” I shouted, pulling hard on the reins. “Whoa! Whoa!”

But it was useless: Ness was panicked, and refused to listen to my commands. I resigned myself to leaning forward to avoid the tree branches, while waiting for her to tire.

We rode through the woods for several minutes, Ness running at breakneck speed in a blind panic, until finally she started to slow; she was calming down, it seemed.

And that’s when we went over the edge of the cliff.

Everything seemed to start moving in slow motion, my brain going into overdrive.

I looked down, and saw the trees and rocks, a good four hundred metres below us.

Well. I’m dead.

I closed my eyes and resigned myself to my fate.

We fell for a couple of seconds… But then I felt something clamp around my waist, and our fall slowed.

I opened my eyes, and looked up.

The dragon had seized me with all four limbs and spread its wings, catching the air and slowing our fall.

What…?

“We’re too heavy!” the dragon shouted. “We’re going down too fast!”

What in the seven hells…?

“Do you understand me?” it… he growled. “We need to lose some weight!”

I stared at him for a couple seconds, then I realised what I had to do.

“I’m sorry, old girl,” I said; I unsheathed my dagger, and quickly sliced through the strap that fastened the saddle to Ness. She gave a pathetic whinny as she dropped, and the fall slowed even more, but we were still going down fast.

“It’s not enough!” the dragon shouted again. “We’re still too heavy!”

“I’ve got nothing else I can drop!” I shouted back.

The dragon said something in a language I didn’t understand, but it definitely sounded like a curse. “Then this will be a hard landing,” he said. “Hold on!”

By then, we were almost down to the treetops; the dragon spun around, his back towards the ground, held me close to his chest, and wrapped his wings around us both.

We crashed through the trees, dragging along the forest floor, spinning and tumbling; I was thrown from the dragon’s grasp, landing in a heap against the base of a tree.

I just lay there, dazed, for a couple minutes, then started to get my bearings again. I unhooked my armour from the saddle, and slowly, unsteadily stood up.

The dragon was less than a dozen metres away.

He was breathing heavily, shaking his head, as if trying to clear it; he had obviously been dazed by the fall, too. I could see that one of his wings was bent at an odd angle about midway through its length. It was probably broken; it would be a while before the beast could take flight again.

I unsheathed my sword, and approached him; by then he had gotten his bearings, too, and stared at me as I got close, an undecipherable expression in his eyes.

I took a few steps towards him, then hesitated.

No. This was not befitting of a knight.

I sheathed my sword again, and turned away.

“What… are you doing?” he asked. “Aren’t you going to try to kill me?”

I turned back towards him. “I’m not,” I said. “You could’ve let me fall, and yet you saved my life. I’m in your debt.”

The dragon made a rumbling sound deep in his throat. “Thank you, human.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied. Then I began to feel light-headed. I raised my hand and put it to my head, then looked at it. It was red with blood.

I looked at the dragon. “I’m sorry, I think I’m going to pass out for a while. Please don’t eat me while I’m asleep.”

The world fell away from me, and I blacked out.