Page 7 of The Soul of the Dragon

"We don't care about no crown. We just want coins. If you don't give them to us, then we'll simply gut you. See if your King will help you then."

I shook my head, knowing full well where this was headed. These men I'd joined were drunkandstupid. As if to prove my thought, they all drew a weapon. Most swords, but a couple only carried small knives.

Not that I could say much. I only had my dragon blade, but it was more than enough. Although as a last resort I could call on my dragon fire if need be. That would certainly get me into the castle. And directly into the dungeon.

"Give them the coin," I suggested. "Whatever it is, it's not worth anyone's life tonight."

A couple of the men turned to see who had spoken up, and while many blank faces stared at me, a couple of them looked confused.

"Who the hell are you?" One of the confused asked.

" Just someone who would like to avoid trouble is all."

"Is that right?" These idiots were now focused on me and had taken their attention away from the thieves. And since they seemed as frustrated as I was, the first one lunged forward with his sword pointed at a deathly angle to that man's neck.

I blew out a breath and jumped. My dragon blade clanged with his sword and the magic raced along the iron and into the man's hand. He lost his grip and his weapon dropped to the ground, his eyes wide and mouth agape at the turn of events. Two breaths later he turned and ran deep into the alley until he disappeared into the darkness

The crowd of king's guards were stunned silent for a moment, before they erupted into cheers as they one by one realized I'd saved their leader.

However, there were still two men with swords drawn, threatening to attack us. Including the one giving off a weird vibe. It was difficult to get a good look at him with his cloak obscuring his face, and for some reason that bothered me. My instincts were telling me something was off.

"Do you still want to fight?" I asked that man in specific, ignoring the other. I doubted he posed much of a threat. At least, no more than the man who'd run.

"Possibly, but first, I do have some questions." He re-sheathed his sword. "Like who the hell are you?"

I ignored that question for now because I had the same for him. His voice sounded familiar and yet, I knew no one from this realm.

"You men had better run before this one teaches you a lesson with that short sword of his." The drunk guards were either too stupid or—nah, they were just stupid. They couldn't recognize the danger they were in.

"Go home," I instructed. "I can take care of these two for you."

They all cheered again and shockingly took my advice as they edged around the other two men, who let them pass with no fight, and continued in the direction they'd started. Towards the castle.

Since the second man had yet to drop his sword I turned my attention solely to him. "So are we doing this or what?"

He looked back at the third man, who shook his head no, and then in the direction his friend had run. For whatever reason, he too took my advice and started down the alleyway.

That only left myself and the one man still shrouded by his cloak.

"And what about you?" I asked. "What is it you'd like to do? Care to take a round at the end of my blade?"

The man eyed his full sword at his side and then my tiny blade and laughed. "Cocky," he said.

"Confident," I responded.

"What's your name?" When I didn't answer right away, he continued. "If it's your knife you'd like to run through me, then the least you can do is give me a name of my would-be murderer."

I grunted, feeling neither inclined nor obligated to give this man anything. But I was curious about him and there was nothing about my name that would trigger anyone in this realm.

"Isaac Ferguson."

He lifted his chin and stepped forward, into the light cast over us by the moon. "Well, Isaac. I have to say that's not what I expected to hear."

"Why, what did you expect?"

He lifted his hand, brushed back his cloak from his face, and I dropped back a step. He’d revealed his face, and the condition of it took me by surprise. Scars covered two-thirds of his skin and neck. Yet there was an eerie familiarity to it that I couldn't quite place.

Considering I would have remembered seeing scars like that before I dismissed the hairs rising on the back of my neck.

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