Chapter Ten

The next morning came bright, clear and cold. During the night, frost had settled thickly on the grass around Crimea Castle, forming a pattern of white on the frozen ground. Where the moat had been, there was now just a layer of ice about two inches thick, which reflected the rising sun in the east upon its surface. Before the sun had fully risen, Oscar emerged from the castle to break the ice on the moat, allowing the birds to drink from the water as they usually did in the morning. Using the blunt end of his lance, he smashed the frozen surface, scattering ice chips across the broken drawbridge.

I hope it doesn't snow while we're travelling to Goldoa, he mused to himself. That would slow us down a lot, even if Elincia and Haar can fly above the ground, the rest of us would have to ride straight through it. He raised his lance over his head and brought it down on the ice, shattering it into hundreds of tiny pieces like broken glass. He surveyed his work with satisfaction before sheathing his lance and turning away, only to hear footsteps coming up behind him.

'A little early to be outside, isn't it?'

Oscar relaxed. Those footsteps had been far too soft to be a dragon, but for a second he had been afraid he was about to be attacked from behind by another Feral One. He supposed he was being overcautious. 'I could say the same thing to you, but I know you're always out here in the morning.'

'Yes, but it's unusual for anyone else to be out here at this time,' Stefan replied lightly. Oscar, still facing away from him, heard the metallic scrape of a sword being unsheathed. 'I believe you wanted to practise your skills this morning, but since as we're both here, why don't we train outside for a change? It's nicer out here than inside the castle.'

Oscar smiled to himself and drew his lance, still not looking around at the Swordmaster. 'I'll be happy to,' he replied, running a finger along the shaft of the weapon and preparing himself for an attack. Although he had watched Stefan fighting before, he was confident in his ability to defend himself against the Swordmaster without much effort.

He heard a swipe through the air as a blade swept towards him, and he whipped around as fast as he could and blocked it with his lance. The impact drove him backwards. Oscar gasped at the strength put behind the easy strike, and he fought back just as viciously. His lance locked with the hilt of Stefan's sword and was nearly pulled out of his grasp.

'Where did you find that?' he asked, referring to the gleaming weapon in Stefan's hand. 'I thought you didn't own any swords except the Vague Katti, and that got broken yesterday.'

An instant later he was thrown backwards, landing hard on the frozen ground with a colossal crash. The impact rattled every armour plate he was wearing and knocked the lance out of his hand. With a grunt, he pushed himself onto his feet and paused for a moment to regain his breath. Something was telling him to be more observant in future, especially when he was fighting a certain Swordmaster who seemed to be able to attack without anyone noticing what he was doing until the last second.

'No, Elincia gave it to me personally,' Stefan said, in response to Oscar's question.

'You're too fast,' Oscar groaned once he had got his breath back. 'Elincia should make you the leader of the Royal Knights.'

'And what would she do with Geoffrey? I don't think he would appreciate someone else taking his place as the Queen's protector,' Stefan replied with a faint smirk, sheathing his new sword. Oscar paused for a moment, noting his opponent's lack of a weapon, and decided to make his move.

Leaping forwards to attack a second time, he was astonished by the speed Stefan re-drew his sword. His lance rebounded off the hilt and he stumbled back before regaining his balance in time to block the slash aimed at him. He was used to fighting on horseback, although he could still defend himself on foot if he had to – though it was a lot harder than it looked. Without the advantage of his horse, he was quickly overpowered and knocked into the dust yet again, his lance rolling away due to the massive blow which had ripped it from his grasp. Stefan, however, did not seem concerned by Oscar's lack of skill.

'Try again tomorrow at dawn,' he suggested, sheathing his silver sword. 'You'll learn eventually.'

Oscar climbed to his feet, putting his lance away as he stood up. His armour was dented and would need cleaning before they set off on their journey to Goldoa later that day, but he was still pleased with the morning's work. It had been a long time since he'd had such a difficult opponent to face and he needed the practise. 'Thanks,' he said sincerely, offering his hand to shake. Stefan accepted it wordlessly.

As they released each other's hands, a loud thud shook the ground nearby. Both fighters swung around, expecting too see another Feral Dragon standing before them with gleaming teeth and smoke rolling from its nostrils – but it was just Haar and his borrowed, bad-tempered, blue-green Wyvern. Neither of them, Oscar noticed, looked particularly happy, but the Wyvern never looked happy in his opinion.

'Hello, Haar,' he greeted the Dragonlord respectfully with a slight nod of his head. 'What are you doing out this early? It's not like you to wake up before noon at least, he added silently.

'I couldn't sleep much last night,' Haar confessed. 'I know that sounds weird, but I suppose I was being kept awake by the racket that stupid great lizard was making.' He pointed an accusing, black-armoured finger at the Wyvern, which narrowed its eyes at him as though expecting some kind of sneak attack. The annoyance and hatred on both faces was so obvious, Oscar began to wonder whether Haar should consider finding himself a new Wyvern. However, when he suggested this, the Dragonlord shook his head.

'Wyverns don't always like people. That was what was special about old Lore, he was friendly, and besides...' He broke off with a very pronounced yawn. Afterwards, he seemed to forget what he had been about to say. Meanwhile, the green-haired Royal Knight was deep in thought over the name he had just heard.

Lore? Is – was – that the name of Haar's old black Wyvern? I didn't even know it had a name. Casually he asked, 'So are you going to keep that borrowed Wyvern? If you don't want to get a new one, you'll have to give up your job as a Dragonlord.'

Haar yawned unconcernedly. 'There are other things I could do. Right now, all I need is a good nap. And with this dumb reptile keeping me awake -' he shot a glare at the Wyvern, who glared right back at him '- I'm not likely to get to sleep very easily. Oscar, do me a favour and take this awful creature back to Elincia's stables, will you? I could use a break from her for a while.'

Oscar nodded, noticing with concern that Haar seemed even more exhausted than usual. Gingerly, he walked forwards and took the Wyvern's rein from her rider. Almost instantly, the beast started to tug sharply on the rein with enough strength to pull the knight off his feet, if Stefan hadn't come over and quickly taken the rein himself. 'Is she... always... this bad?' Oscar panted, watching as the Wyvern growled restlessly; Stefan didn't move an inch despite the strength of the beast's struggles. 'How in the name of Ashera do you manage to ride her?'

'With difficulty,' said Haar tiredly. 'She isn't anything like old Lore; she constantly tries to take control, to show you that she's the boss... it's hard to stop her when she's playing up.' He glanced one last time at the angry Wyvern, who had quieted down when she realised that she could not escape Stefan's hold on her rein. 'Take her to the stables round the back of the castle. I'm going for a long sleep.' He wandered back in the direction of the castle, more slowly than normal, and disappeared inside.

'Here, you should be able to handle her now,' said Stefan, offering the Wyvern's rein. She had ceased pulling and subsided into a sulky silence.

Oscar tentatively took hold of the Wyvern. True to Stefan's word, she didn't struggle against him. 'I'll lead her to the stables,' he said, dragging the Wyvern away towards the castle.

Stefan stayed where he was for a moment longer, watching the knight and the unruly Wyvern's slow progress. As the sun rose higher and the rest of the castle's inhabitants began to wake up, he pensively glanced in the direction of the Grann Desert. Of course, it was not visible at such a distance, but he knew by instinct where it lay. I wonder if I will ever set foot on those sands again, he thought, pausing for a moment to brush the long strands of hair out of his eyes. I will decide on that later. For now, there are more important matters to attend to.

Following Haar's footsteps over the drawbridge, he entered the great Crimea Castle. It soon became painfully obvious that Elincia – ignoring the many dangers along the way – was intending to lead her army to Goldoa that very morning as she had planned. Even if it didn't snow, the journey would still be a long and perilous one...