from its scabbard on his back. The two men squared off, each waiting for the other to move.
King Erik called out from his bed. “Guard! Withdraw immediately!”
The guard spat on the rug towards the king. “Go to sleep old man, your time has come and gone. It’s Tirate’s game now.”
Boris relaxed into his fighting stance. Years of wielding a sword had taught him that it was skill, not strength that determined the outcome in a sword fight. The man was younger than Boris was and nearly as big. Confident, the guard lunged forward, his sword swinging in an arc. Boris dropped the tip of his long sword and neatly blocked the strike. As the man stepped back, Boris brought his sword across and sliced open the man’s shirt. Another lunge opened the guard’s sleeve, and yet another opened the pant leg of his breeches.
Boris calmly stepped back. “ You wish to continue? You’re running out of clothes.”
Furious, the man charged, swinging his blade wildly. Boris sidestepped and brought the hilt of his sword down on the man’s head, knocking him flat. He lay there unconscious.
Erik was desperately trying to get out of the bed but could do no more than sit weakly on the edge, his eyes dark with anger. “You should have killed him Boris.”
Boris re-sheathed his sword and ran quickly to help the king to his feet. “Perhaps, but that was like fighting an unarmed man, hardly what I’d call fair play.”
Erik shook his head and smiled. “You are too honorable for your own good.”
Boris pulled a cloak from the wardrobe and wrapped it around the frail man’s shoulders. “You can demote me later, right now I think it would be best to leave this place while we still can. More of Tirate’s men will be arriving soon.”
Erik leaned heavily on his shoulder and Boris half carried the man to the doorway and down the hall. As he rounded a corner he found the young page running another errand. This time the boy’s jaw dropped at the sight of the king standing in front of him.
Boris snapped at him. “Don’t just stand there ! Help me get the king to the landing yard!”
Without a word, the boy slipped beneath the king’s arm and the three of them hurried down the stairway. When they reached the doorway leading out to the yard, Boris stopped and peered out. Ellis was lying near the middle of the yard a hundred yards away while half a dozen of Tirate’s men armed with long spears stood nearby obviously waiting for Boris.
Boris stepped back from the door and whispered to the page. “Lad, you are loyal to your king, are you not?”
The boy nodded enthusiastically.
“Good! I have a job for you, more important than you could ever imagine. When we leave here, I want you to spread the word among the loyal servants, staff, and dragon knights that King Erik is alive. Make sure everyone knows and don’t get caught or Tirate will have your hide. Do you understand?”
Again, the boy nodded. Boris pulled from his finger a thick ring inscribed with a black dragon and handed it to him. “Show this to anyone who doubts you, and be careful whom you trust. Tirate is a ruthless criminal and will have many spies helping him to steal the throne. We will return soon with proof of his guilt.”
Erik watched the boy run down the hallway. Turning to Boris he whispered. “Do you know what you are doing here?”
Boris just grinned and let out a sharp whistle. Ellis leapt to his feet, his sharp ears pointing towards the door. Boris whistled again and Ellis thundered across the yard. Men shouted as they scrambled out of the way. Carts and wagons overturned as Ellis crashed through, oblivious to everything in his path. He skidded to a stop in front of the door and Boris lifted Erik over his shoulder like a sack and ran towards the dragon. With his free arm he grabbed the saddle as he thrust his foot into the stirrup and heaved Erik into the seat.
“ LET’S FLY !” He barely had time to swing his leg over the saddle before Ellis leaped into the air,
King Erik called out from his bed. “Guard! Withdraw immediately!”
The guard spat on the rug towards the king. “Go to sleep old man, your time has come and gone. It’s Tirate’s game now.”
Boris relaxed into his fighting stance. Years of wielding a sword had taught him that it was skill, not strength that determined the outcome in a sword fight. The man was younger than Boris was and nearly as big. Confident, the guard lunged forward, his sword swinging in an arc. Boris dropped the tip of his long sword and neatly blocked the strike. As the man stepped back, Boris brought his sword across and sliced open the man’s shirt. Another lunge opened the guard’s sleeve, and yet another opened the pant leg of his breeches.
Boris calmly stepped back. “ You wish to continue? You’re running out of clothes.”
Furious, the man charged, swinging his blade wildly. Boris sidestepped and brought the hilt of his sword down on the man’s head, knocking him flat. He lay there unconscious.
Erik was desperately trying to get out of the bed but could do no more than sit weakly on the edge, his eyes dark with anger. “You should have killed him Boris.”
Boris re-sheathed his sword and ran quickly to help the king to his feet. “Perhaps, but that was like fighting an unarmed man, hardly what I’d call fair play.”
Erik shook his head and smiled. “You are too honorable for your own good.”
Boris pulled a cloak from the wardrobe and wrapped it around the frail man’s shoulders. “You can demote me later, right now I think it would be best to leave this place while we still can. More of Tirate’s men will be arriving soon.”
Erik leaned heavily on his shoulder and Boris half carried the man to the doorway and down the hall. As he rounded a corner he found the young page running another errand. This time the boy’s jaw dropped at the sight of the king standing in front of him.
Boris snapped at him. “Don’t just stand there ! Help me get the king to the landing yard!”
Without a word, the boy slipped beneath the king’s arm and the three of them hurried down the stairway. When they reached the doorway leading out to the yard, Boris stopped and peered out. Ellis was lying near the middle of the yard a hundred yards away while half a dozen of Tirate’s men armed with long spears stood nearby obviously waiting for Boris.
Boris stepped back from the door and whispered to the page. “Lad, you are loyal to your king, are you not?”
The boy nodded enthusiastically.
“Good! I have a job for you, more important than you could ever imagine. When we leave here, I want you to spread the word among the loyal servants, staff, and dragon knights that King Erik is alive. Make sure everyone knows and don’t get caught or Tirate will have your hide. Do you understand?”
Again, the boy nodded. Boris pulled from his finger a thick ring inscribed with a black dragon and handed it to him. “Show this to anyone who doubts you, and be careful whom you trust. Tirate is a ruthless criminal and will have many spies helping him to steal the throne. We will return soon with proof of his guilt.”
Erik watched the boy run down the hallway. Turning to Boris he whispered. “Do you know what you are doing here?”
Boris just grinned and let out a sharp whistle. Ellis leapt to his feet, his sharp ears pointing towards the door. Boris whistled again and Ellis thundered across the yard. Men shouted as they scrambled out of the way. Carts and wagons overturned as Ellis crashed through, oblivious to everything in his path. He skidded to a stop in front of the door and Boris lifted Erik over his shoulder like a sack and ran towards the dragon. With his free arm he grabbed the saddle as he thrust his foot into the stirrup and heaved Erik into the seat.
“ LET’S FLY !” He barely had time to swing his leg over the saddle before Ellis leaped into the air,
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