She watched him carefully every step of the way, her face evincing further amusement at the sight of his nakedness—not surprising, since his skin was shriveled like a prune, and he was blue and shaking with the cold. Arriving at the bank, he cast one furious glance at her and reached for his clothes. She continued to stand with her foot on his sword, her own sword raised and at the ready.
He dressed himself in the leather trousers he’d brought with him. He was going to ignore the tunic, that lay crumpled on the bank, hoping that she might not notice the emblem stitched on the front. She lifted it with the tip of her sword, however, and tossed it at him.
“Wouldn’t want you to get sunburned,” she said. “Put it on. Did you have a nice flight?”
Gerard’s heart sank, but he made a game try. “I don’t know what you mean. I walked—”
“Give it up, Neraka,” she said to him. “I saw the blue dragon. I saw the beast land. I marked its trail and followed it and found you.” She regarded him with interest, all the while keeping the sword pointed at him and dangling the length of rope in her hands. “So what were you intending to do, Neraka? Spy on us, maybe? Pretend to be some loutish farm lad coming to the city for a good time? You appear to have the lout part down well.”
“I am not a spy,” he said through teeth clenched to keep them from chattering. “I know that you’re not going to believe this, but I am not a Dark Knight of Neraka. I am a Solamnic, like yourself—”
“Oh, that is rich! A blue Solamnic riding a blue dragon.” The Lady Knight laughed heartily, then flicked her hand and, with alacrity tossed the loop of rope over his head. “Don’t worry. I won’t hang you here, Neraka. I mean to take you back to Solanthus. You can tell your tale to an admiring audience. The inquisitor has been in low spirits these days. You’ll cheer him right up, I’m sure.”
She jerked the rope, grinned to see Gerard grab it to keep from choking.
“Whether you arrive there alive, half-alive, or barely breathing is up to you.”
“I’ll prove it,” Gerard stated. “Let me open my pack—”
He looked down on the ground. The pack was not there.
Gerard searched frantically along the riverbank. No pack. And then he remembered. He had left the pack with the letter hooked to the dragon’s saddle. The saddle and the pack were back in the cave with the blue dragon.
He bowed his head that was dripping wet, too overwhelmed to swear. The hot words were in his heart but they couldn’t make it past the lump in his throat to reach his tongue. Raising his head, he looked at the Lady Knight, looked her full in the eyes that, he noted, were tree-leaf green.
“I swear to you, Lady, on my honor as a true Knight that I am a Solamnic. My name is Gerard uth Mondar. I am stationed in Solace, where I am one of the honor guard for the Tomb of the Last Heroes. I can offer no proof of what I say, I admit that, but my father is well known among the Knighthood. I am certain there are Lord Knights in Solanthus who will recognize me. I have been sent to bring urgent news to the Council of Knights in Solanthus. In my pack, I have a letter from Gilthas, king of the elves—”
“Ah, yes,” she said, “and in my pack I have a letter from Mulberry Miklebush, queen of the kender. Where is this pack with this wonderful letter?”
Gerard muttered something.
“I didn’t catch that, Neraka?” She bent nearer.
“It’s attached to the saddle of the . . . blue dragon,” he said glumly. “I could go fetch it. I give you my word of honor that I would return and surrender myself.”
She frowned slightly. “I don’t, by any chance, have hay stuck in my hair, do I?”
Gerard glared at her.
“I thought I might,” she said. “Because you obviously think I have just fallen out of the hay wagon. Yes, Sweet Neraka, I’ll accept the word of honor of a blue dragonrider, and I’ll let you run off and fetch your pack and your blue dragon. Then I’ll wave my hankie to you as you both fly away.”
She prodded him in the belly with her sword.
“Get on the horse.”
“Listen, Lady,” Gerard said, his anger and frustration growing. “I know that this looks bad, but if you’ll use that steel-covered head of yours for thinking, you’ll realize that I’m telling the truth! If I were a real dragonrider of Neraka, do you think you’d be standing here poking me with that sword of yours? You’d be food for my dragon about now. I am on an urgent mission. Thousands of lives are at stake— Stop that, damn you!”
She had been prodding him with her sword at every third word, steadily forcing him to fall back until he bumped into her horse. Furious, he thrust aside the sword with his bare hand, slicing open his palm.
“I do love to hear you talk, Neraka,” she said. “I could listen to you all day, but, unfortunately, I go on duty in a few hours. So mount up, and let’s be off.”
Gerard was now so angry that he was seriously tempted to summon the dragon. Razor would make short work of this infuriating female, who had apparently been born with solid steel in her head instead of on top of it. He controlled his rage, however, and mounted the horse. Knowing full well what she intended to do with him, he put his hands behind his back, wrists together.
Sheathing her sword, keeping a firm grip on the rope that was around his neck, she tied his wrists together with the same length of rope, adjusting it so that if he moved his arms or any part of his body, he’d end up strangling himself. All the while, she kept up her jocular banter, calling him Neraka, Sweet Neraka, and Neraka of Her Heart and other mocking endearments that were galling in the extreme.
When all was ready, she took her horse’s reins and led the horse through the forest at a brisk walk.
“Aren’t you going to gag me?” Gerard demanded.
She glanced over her shoulder. “Your words are music to my ears, Neraka. Speak on. Tell me more about the king of the elves. Does he dress in green gossamer and sprout wings from his back?”
“I could yet summon the dragon,” Gerard stated. “I do not because I do not want to hurt you, Lady Knight. This proves what I have been telling you, if you’d only think about it.”
“It might,” she conceded. “You may well be telling the truth. But you may well not be telling the truth. You might not be summoning the dragon because the beasts are notoriously untrustworthy and unpredictable and would just as soon kill you as me. Right, Neraka?”
Gerard was beginning to understand why she had not gagged him. He could think of nothing to say that would not incriminate himself or make matters worse. Her argument about the evil nature of blue dragons was one he might have made himself before he had come to know Razor. Gerard had no doubt that if he summoned Razor to deal with this Knight, the dragon would make short work of her and leave Gerard untouched. But while Gerard would have preferred Razor to this annoying female as a traveling companion any day, he could not very well countenance the horrible death of a fellow Solamnic, no matter how obnoxious she might be.
“When I reach Solanthus, I will send a company to slay the dragon,” she continued. “He cannot be far from here. Judging from the explosions I heard, we will have no trouble finding evidence of his hiding place.”
Gerard was reasonably certain that Razor could take care of himself, and that left him concerned for the welfare of his fellow Knights. He decided that the best course of action he could take now was to wait until he came before the council. Once there, he could explain himself and his mission. He was confident the council would believe him, despite his lack of credentials. Undoubtedly there would be someone on the council who knew him or knew his father. If all went well, he would return to Razor and both he, the dragon, and a force of Knights would fly to Qualinesti. After this Knight had made her most abject and humble apologies. They left the wooded stream bank behind, entered the grasslands not far from where the dragon had alighted. Gerard could see in the distance the road leading to Solanthus. The tops of the city’s towers were just visible over the tips of the tall grass.