Cordus shook his head slowly. "There are many mysteries. But real history is fused with myth. I think the greatest peril to our world lies right here in Silverland, as it has for centuries. Beyond that, who knows?"
Sambar sighed. "Yet as far as Silverland goes, I fear the North Road is soon to fall. There are barely enough Rangers left to maintain it. I don't know if I can keep the inn open much longer. If the Dead Goblin closes, that's pretty much the end of the North Road. The Rangers need a place to sleep, to escape the stench, and so do travelers."
"It's a matter of money, then?" said Cordus.
Sambar stroked his beard. "It certainly is."
Cordus nodded. "Dremlock Kingdom will make a contribution to the Dead Goblin Inn-money and supplies as needed."
"That solves half the problem," said Sambar. "But what about the attacks? Rangers are getting killed defending a road few use anymore."
"You need better weapons and armor," said Cordus, "which will be supplied. And as soon as any Knights can be spared, I will send them down this way."
Sambar nodded. "But we need help in a hurry, Cordus, or it's going to be too late. Only the most rugged Rangers remain, and they're growing bitter toward Dremlock Kingdom." Sambar added in a whisper, "Look at their faces."
The travelers turned. The Rangers were staring hard at Cordus, anger in their eyes. A couple of them shook their heads in disgust.
"As soon as I reach Dremlock," said Cordus, turning back to Sambar, "assistance, with the exception of Knights, will be sent immediately. The North Road is vital to Dremlock Kingdom, as it gives us a direct route to the southern cities."
"But not so vital you can spare a few Knights?" questioned Sambar.
"We have none to spare," Cordus repeated wearily. "Do not doubt my words, innkeeper. If I could spare even a single one to help defend the road, I would do so. But right now it's just not possible. Now we would like some dinner."
Furlus licked his lips. "You know what I want, Sambar."
Sambar nodded. "Red meat, of course. If you weren't so ugly, Furlus, I'd mistake you for an Olrog."
Furlus chuckled. "Furlus Goblincrusher is everything an Olrog should be, Sambar. I've got blood like the fire pools of the deep, and skin like mountain rock."
"And the face of a mountain goat," said Sambar.
That statement brought on laughter from everyone but the Rangers, who continued to glare at Cordus with deep contempt.
Lannon kept staring a sword that was made of some type of animal bones that hung behind the bar. The sword was elaborately constructed, the bones fitted neatly together to form an elegant and fierce-looking weapon.
"That is a real dragon-bone sword, my young friend," said Sambar, nodding to Lannon. "It's for sale, at thirty silver pieces. Kingdom pieces, that is."
Furlus Goblincrusher chuckled. "Thirty kingdom pieces, for a sword made of bones? Waste of good coin, if you ask me."
"Dragon bone is quite rare," said Sambar. "And stronger and sharper than steel. And much lighter too."
"I didn't think real dragons existed," said Lannon. "I read in my book, The Truth about Goblins, that dragons are just winged Goblins, like the Vultures."
"Your book spoke true," said Sambar. "Dragons are a type of rare winged Goblin. The ones spoken of in legend probably never existed. But modern dragons are a very special sort of Goblin, possessing great power. No man has ever slain one, or even seen one die, but their bones can be found in the cliffs beyond the West Drop. They're not easy to obtain, and very difficult to forge into bladed weapons."
"And those bones are better left to rot," said Furlus. "The best weapons and armor are made from Glaetherin, the strongest metal in existence."
Sambar nodded. "That may be true, but dragon bone is stout stuff nonetheless, and only Divine Knights are permitted to wield Glaetherin. Even you must admit, Furlus, that dragon bone is a worthy material."
Lannon's eyes were fixed on the magnificent sword. "I wish I had enough silver. I would definitely buy it."
"You're better off with weapons and armor forged in our kingdom," said Cordus, waving in a dismissive gesture. "That sword is no doubt a fine weapon, but it is vastly over priced. Sambar has been trying to sell that thing for years."
"The boy clearly wants the sword," mumbled Sambar. "And goodness knows I could use the money. This is a chance to help me out and help keep the Dead Goblin Inn open for business."
"But it looks exactly like the Kingdom Sword of Dremlock," said Cordus, frowning. "Some might mistake it for that and believe Lannon has been given special permission to wield it. This could cause resentment."
"It is better than the Kingdom Sword," said Sambar, "which everyone knows is a fake. Your Kingdom Sword is actually made of Cave Troll bones rather than Dragon bones."
Furlus chuckled. "Yes, it's true. Our legendary Kingdom Sword is nothing but old Troll bones carved to look like those of a Dragon. It's the worst kept secret in Dremlock, yet always a topic for debate."
"But my sword is the real thing," said Sambar. "I can prove it." He took down the sword and handed it to Furlus. "See if you can break it."
Furlus grunted as he sought to snap it two, his huge muscles bulging from the strain. Finally he handed it back to Sambar. "Yes, innkeeper, it is Dragon bone. But it is still second rate compared to Glaetherin."
"It is slightly different than the Kingdom Sword," said Taris. "As you can see, this sword has a red sash tied to it, whereas the Kingdom Sword is adorned with a green sash. A minor difference, but still a difference."
"And there you have it," said Sambar. "The sashes are a different color and no one could possibly confuse them. The boy should have this sword."
"Do you really want the sword, Lannon?" said Taris. "You would not be allowed to carry it until you pass the Color Trials and become a true Squire. And you must never try to claim that it's the Kingdom Sword. You'll have to leave the red sash fastened to it at all times."
"Yes!" Lannon said excitedly. "I would love to have it."
"I'll purchase it for you," said Taris. "You can carry it until we reach Dremlock, and then you must leave it my care until after the Color Trials." He nodded to Sambar. "Consider this an additional contribution for your dedication to keeping the Dead Goblin Inn open."
Furlus shook his head. "It's a fine enough weapon, but not worth nearly that many kingdom pieces."
Cordus shrugged. "It's Taris' money, and he may do what he chooses with it. And if it helps Sambar out, it's for a good cause."
Taris paid the innkeeper, and Sambar sheathed the sword and handed it to the sorcerer. Taris then presented the sword to Lannon. "May this serve you well," he said, eyeing Lannon sternly from beneath his hood. "Over time, a dragon-bone sword-just as with any sword made of Goblin bone-will bond with its owner, and in spite of what Furlus believes, it will serve you well enough. This is my gift to the savior of Dremlock Kingdom."
Cordus slammed his fist down on the bar. "Taris! That's enough of that talk. The boy hasn't even passed the Color Trials yet."
"Lannon may fail the Trials," said Furlus. "What then of the sword?"
"I will speak no more of it," said Taris, turning away.
Cordus patted Lannon on the back. "It's a good sword, and I'm sure you'll do fine in the Color Trials."
The sword felt light and perfectly balanced in Lannon's grasp. He could barely bring himself to believe that Taris had just given it to him.
Sambar started to open his mouth as if to say something, but then he closed it again and shrugged. "More ale?"
That night the travelers bathed themselves and slept in clean rooms. Lannon's belly was full of good food and drink, he had a new sword, and Dremlock Kingdom was growing ever closer. He should have been content. Yet even upstairs, behind locked doors, he could feel the anger of the men and women below. It seemed to fill the air, contrasting the sweet aroma of the incense and merging with the faint stench of the Bloodlands, which could never be completely concealed here. And deep uncertainty weighed down on him, making him restless. Just what was expected of him in the days ahead? How much were Knights concealing from him, and ultimately, what was the risk? His deepest fears whispered to him in his father's voice that death wasn't the worst fate one could encounter.