Hrun counted the bowmen slowly and made a brief calculation. His shoulders relaxed.
“I am Hrun of Chimeria. And you?”
“Liessa Dragonlady.”
“You are the lord of this place?”
“That remains to be seen. You have the look about you of a hired sword, Hrun of Chimeria. I could use you—if you pass the tests, of course. There are three of them. You have passed the first.”
“What are the other—” Hrun paused, his lips moved soundlessly and then he hazarded, “two?”
“Perilous.”
“And the fee?”
“Valuable.”
“Excuse me,” said Twoflower.
“And if I fail these tests?” said Hrun, ignoring him. The air between Hrun and Liessa crackled with small explosions of charisma as their gazes sought for a hold.
“If you had failed the first test you would now be dead. This may be considered a typical penalty.”
“Um, look,” began Twoflower. Liessa spared him a brief glance, and appeared actually to notice him for the first time.
“Take that away,” she said calmly, and turned back to Hrun. Two of the guards shouldered their bows, grasped Twoflower by the elbows and lifted him off the ground. Then they trotted smartly through the doorway.
“Hey,” said Twoflower, as they hurried down the corridor outside, “where” (as they stopped in front of another door) “is my” (as they dragged the door open) “Luggage?” He landed in a heap of what might once have been straw. The door banged shut, its echoes punctuated by the sound of bolts being slammed home.
In the other cell Hrun had barely blinked.
“Okay,” he said, “what is the second test?”
“You must kill my two brothers.” Hrun considered this.
“Both at the same time, or one after the other?” he said.
“Consecutively or concurrently,” she assured him.
“What?”
“Just kill them,” she said sharply.
“Good fighters, are they?”
“Renowned.”
“So in return for all this…?”
“You will wed me and become Lord of the Wyrmberg.”
There was a long pause. Hrun’s eyebrows twisted themselves in unaccustomed calculation.
“I get you and this mountain?” he said at last.
“Yes.” She looked him squarely in the eye, and her lips twitched. “The fee is worthwhile, I assure you.”
Hrun dropped his gaze to the rings on her hand. The stones were large, being the incredibly rare blue milk diamonds from the clay basins of Mithos. When he managed to turn his eyes from them he saw Liessa glaring down at him in fury.
“So calculating?” she rasped. “Hrun the Barbarian, who would boldly walk into the jaws of Death Himself?”
Hrun shrugged. “Sure,” he said, “the only reason for walking into the jaws of Death is so’s you can steal His gold teeth.” He brought one arm around expansively, and the wooden bunk was at the end of it. It cannoned into the bowmen and Hrun followed it joyously, felling one man with a blow and snatching the weapon from another. A moment later it was all over.
Liessa had not moved.
“Well?” she said.
“Well what?” said Hrun, from the carnage.
“Do you intend to kill me?”
“What? Oh no. No, this is just, you know, kind of a habit. Just keeping in practice. So where are these brothers?” He grinned.
Twoflower sat on his straw and stared into the darkness. He wondered how long he had been there. Hours, at least. Days, probably. He speculated that perhaps it had been years, and he had simply forgotten.
No, that sort of thinking wouldn’t do. He tried to think of something else—grass, trees, fresh air, dragons. Dragons…
There was the faintest of scrabblings in the darkness. Twoflower felt the sweat prickle on his forehead.
Something was in the cell with him. Something that made small noises, but even in the pitch blackness gave the impression of hugeness. He felt the air move.
When he lifted his arm there was the greasy feel and faint shower of sparks that betokened a localized magical field. Twoflower found himself fervently wishing for light.
A gout of flame rolled past his head and struck the far wall. As the rocks flashed into furnace heat he looked up at the dragon that now occupied more than half the cell.
I obey, lord said a voice in his head.
By the glow of the crackling, spitting stone Twoflower looked into his own reflection in two enormous green eyes. Beyond them the dragon was as multihued, horned, spiked and lithe as the one in his memory—a real dragon. Its folded wings were nevertheless still wide enough to scrape the wall on both sides of the room. It lay with him between its talons.
“Obey?” he said, his voice vibrating with terror and delight.
Of course, lord.