Dragon

And still they both stood, mutually transfixed.

Then Fornia looked at me, Napper unceremoniously fell to the ground, and the world started up again.

My moment of panic was over, replaced by a kind of hollowness that isn't all that bad a way to feel in such circumstances; at least it didn't keep me from observing, anticipating, and acting. I threw a couple of knives at Fornia just to let him know to keep his distance and began working my way toward Morrolan. At this point, the light infantry finally reached us. They flowed past me—I guess they figured that, being an Easterner, I had to be one of their cavalrymen—and Fornia was momentarily lost from sight.

I tried to spot Morrolan, but, ironically, now that he was within a knife-throw I couldn't see him. I kept looking.

Thinking back on it, this was what I had always imagined a battle to be like: constantly dodging, moving, trying to look in every direction at once, and never really sure of what I ought to be doing. The actual battles I had been in had certainly had elements of confusion, but at least I always knew what I had to do, and I could always concentrate on one direction. I guess the difference was that there were no actual lines here: Everyone was mixed up with everyone else, the entire thing being broken up into an endless, chaotic series of one-on-one or two-on-one fights. I could just imagine how often those who were actually participating had to stop and check caps or sashes to make sure they weren't about to strike down someone on their own side. Probably a few people got hit because they took too long to be sure, and almost certainly a few people got hit because the guy in front of them didn't take long enough.

At length I spotted Morrolan, just a glimpse of him through a temporary part in the sea of struggling humanity, and I moved toward him. If, by the way, you're wondering what became of Daymar, I still don't know. Maybe he was around the entire time, mixing it up with the enemy in his own way and doing what damage he could, but I suspect he took to his heels right around the time Fornia was destroying Napper. Can't say as I blame him much.

I skipped around a few fights, shuffled, dodged, and tried to spot Morrolan again. On the way, I passed by Napper's lifeless and souless body, and had another, very brief, moment of panic until Loiosh said, "He's not here, Boss. Not in sight, at least." I kept going.

I wrapped Spellbreaker around my left wrist again and grabbed Napper's sword from where it stuck out of the ground, even though it was too heavy for me, and moved toward where I'd seen Morrolan, hoping that I could trust Loiosh's perceptions and that Fornia wasn't about to appear swinging at the back of my head.

But no, Fornia wasn't coming after me just now, he was coming after Morrolan. And Morrolan seemed pretty pleased about it. They faced each other in a spot that sensible people had stayed away from, circling each other, and both apparently delighted by the encounter. Just beyond Morrolan I saw Aliera and a couple of other officers I didn't recognize, and they also seemed quite happy with this state of affairs.

In fact, everyone was happy about it except me, and I wouldn't have minded either except that I knew what Fornia was up to. The fact that I'd killed Ori had certainly messed with part of his plan, but he was going merrily on with the rest of it, I suppose trusting himself to find a way out when it was over. Or maybe not caring if he found a way out; he was, after all, a Dragon.

"No way around it, Loiosh."

"Boss—"

"I know. But I hate letting people get away with things. It offends me when they think they've put one over on me. It's a pride thing."

"You've been hanging around Dragons too long."

"Lieutenant Loiosh—First Jhereg Assassins—Charge."

"Whatever."

It was less of a charge than a stroll, but I carried it out, hardly planned and barely thought about, as neatly as any assassination I'd ever done, and under the circumstances that is no small thing. I did my calculations during the half dozen paces that separated us: I still didn't want to kill him, and didn't want to get close enough to that weapon to be so much as scratched by bad luck should he spasm; but I couldn't let him fight Morrolan with that weapon. I held Napper's big, heavy sword with both hands and toyed with it a bit. I wished I'd had more time to get a feel for the thing.

I came up directly behind Fornia. Morrolan spotted me, although I was awfully close before he did; he probably doesn't know how I did that, or maybe he just thinks he was concentrating too hard on Fornia. But the look on Morrolan's face warned Fornia, who took a step backward and started to turn, and when he was part of the way around I stepped in and swung Napper's sword down in a long overhead arc such as no Eastern fencer would ever execute and I put everything I had into it, knowing that if I missed I was dead and worse, but that it would likely take all my strength.

I struck him just above the wrists, and his scream was instantaneous and a joy to my ears. The force of the blow left my own weapon embedded in the ground, but I was done with it anyway. Before I could think about what I was doing—because, I assure you, thinking would have done me no good at all—I picked up the Morganti greatsword by the pommel, and ignoring the hands still wrapped tightly around it, I tossed it in Morrolan's general direction, being careful not to throw it actually at him, because I knew he might take that wrong.

Fornia sobbed.

His honor guard closed on me, and I did something I had been wanting to do for several weeks: I turned and ran.

My plan at that point was to run as fast as I could and as far as I could and not stop until I reached Adrilankha, and if I happened to be going in the wrong direction, well, okay, so maybe I'd make a bit of a detour; they say the world is round, after all.

As I dashed by, I saw someone stoop to pick up the Morganti sword that Fornia had recently held—I didn't even notice at the time which side had recovered the thing—and that gave me even more reason to run. Adrilankha, here I come.

I didn't actually make it that far—it was more like fifty feet before I was stopped. The command, "Hold it!" was so sharp and so, well, commanding, that I found I had obeyed before I actually thought about it. I turned around and found I was looking up at Sethra Lavode, atop a horse that, with my equine expertise, I can assure you was dark colored and very big. It looked at Loiosh and tossed its head, snorting like Morrolan had on one or two occasions. Loiosh didn't dignify it with an answer.

Sethra said, "Where are you going, soldier?"

"Uh … I think you have me confused with someone else," I said.

"I doubt it," said Sethra. "In any case, there's no reason to run now; the battle is nearly over."

I looked at where I'd just come from, turned back to Sethra, and said, "You're kidding, right?"

"I'm not kidding. Your unit routed the enemy from Dorian's Hill and drove them almost right up to the Wall. That would have been Fornia's moment to bring up his reserves, except that he was busy just then and didn't get around to it. Besides, Morrolan informs me that Fornia is dead now, anyway, and we have the weapon that caused all the trouble, so there isn't all that much to fight about. I expect a general surrender within the next few minutes, as soon as they can find someone with sufficient authority to surrender to us."

I looked again. "If you say so," I said.

Sethra seemed amused. "It's over, Vlad. Trust me. I've done this sort of thing before. You should have run earlier, when it would have done some good."