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what we have worked so hard to accomplish. If they succeed, Diamedes will be dead soon.”
    “And if they don’t?”
    “Then we will have to kill him ourselves.”
     

     
    “I’m really not following your logic at all,” Justiciar Corwin said from atop his mount as they traveled over the mountain pass.
    “Which part?” Diamedes asked from his smaller horse at the justiciar’s side.
    Corwin scratched his head for a moment. “Well, quite frankly, almost all of it.”
    “That covers quite a deal of ground considering our conversation the last two days,” the small historian said. “I don’t know where to begin.”
    “Well, it’s rare that I get to spend some quality time on the road with someone of your stature, and knowledge, for that matter, so I’d like to take advantage of it. Stick with the dragon part.” Corwin looked at the small historian and then smiled at him.
    “You are too kind. I am but a simple record keeper—”
    Corwin cut him off. “Hardly, but I understand your modesty. It’s a rather good trait to have nowadays considering the hubris of so many of our nobles. Still, I do wish to understand your explanation for the dragons, if you don’t mind. I spend far too much time mediating disputes between farmers and whose cow roamed into whose pasture and ate too much.”
    Diamedes smiled, and the two men shared a knowing look. There was once a time when a justiciar handled very important matters of state, and still they did for the most part, but as time progressed, there seemed to be more and more petty squabbles that were elevated past the local magistrate, calling for a justiciar to mediate.
    “I thought I was clear, but the main point I was making is that the draconus—”
    Again, an interruption. “You mean dragons, and it’s quite all right to name them in the common tongue when talking to me,” Corwin said.
    “Yes, well, the dragons,” Diamedes started again. “They seem to ensure that there are no survivors when they attack.”
    “Which you say they do purposely?” Corwin asked.
    “Either on purpose or that’s simply the nature of the consequence for one of us humans encountering a dragon. I have not come across a single citation, reference, or other piece of material that points to a dragon showing anything resembling mercy or kindness. They seem to be most destructive in nature and very deadly at every encounter.”
    “What else could one expect from their kind? I find it fascinating, however, that you’ve come across conclusive proof that they not only exist but are literally residing amongst us. That will be a major breakthrough throughout Agon. Personally, I don’t believe a word of it. Never seen a dragon nor heard of anyone who has. I’m quite sure you will find your stories questioned at several points.”
    “Conclusive is a subjective word,” Diamedes reminded the man.
    Corwin nodded. “Agreed, though the duke and the king will, most likely, not accept your findings. Personally, if I didn’t know of your reputation, I’d consider you mad. There has to be some other explanation for your findings, don’t you think?”
    “Perhaps if you had seen what I had seen . . .”
    “Careful, Master Historian,” Corwin cautioned. “The actual detail about a dragon being involved was quite minor; in fact, the man was listed as delirious with fever in the report I received. I was surprised at how quickly you wanted to accompany us. My aide informed me that you had just arrived the night before in the capital after a long journey.”
    Corwin had nodded behind him, and Diamedes looked back at their entourage, noticing that the justiciar’s aide smiled and nodded at him, obviously overhearing their conversation. The pair of men rode at the front of a score of soldiers, aides, and porters, all mounted in a dual column formation.
    The ride from the Ulathan capital of Ulan Utandra to Moartown was entirely within the borders of the duchy. However, in recent months, several