Dawn came, and Zeroun fell asleep. Tristan, however, knew better than to sleep in the middle of a strange forest. He found a thicket full of brush and difficult to approach. It was there that he finally lay and closed his eyes, falling asleep to the sounds of birdsong and a nearby creek.
He slept through noon, but then the crackling of branches jolted him awake. Zeroun, evidently, could sleep through a hurricane and not know it came upon him. Thankfully at least one of them was alert.
Now, laying low in the brush, Tristan listens to the voices of men. There are three of them, and they are speaking together, joking together. Are they hunters, soldiers, or simply village men? He wonders. He can not see them for the thick underbrush, but he listens closely, and all three are armed.
"We should get there by nightfall. We'll stay here in the woods until noon, then. They won't be expecting a hit at midday. We'll catch them totally off-guard," one man explains to his companions.
"Shouldn't we wait for the others?" a second asks.
"What do we need them for? They'll just get in the way," a third voice, a bit farther off than the others, interjects.
"Three men taking on a town? It's insane!" the second protests.
So they are raiders! Tristan realizes, narrowing his eyes.
"That's what we're going for! We can't take them while they're expecting us! They don't even know they've got enemies! After all, it's not li- "
Tristan gets the feeling the man would have continued, but suddenly Zeroun awakens and begins piping and calling quite loudly, so loudly in fact that the man stops short. Tristan's mind races with curses, and he bungles open his pack and offers the little dragon a taste of meat. It occupies him long enough.
"Weird birds around here," the first man observes.
"Bird? That sounded more like a demon!" the second corrects.
Tristan can not help but feel a smile creep onto his face. The men are superstitious. If he can head them off, he can probably convince them not to attack the town. Then again, what business is it of his to intervene on behalf of an entire town? He is a stranger, and this is not his place.
Zeroun lets a long series of clicks and trills escape his throat, and he fixes Tristan with a cold stare. Tristan shrugs and gives him another strip of meat. Zeroun is quieted for a bit more as he tears at the meat with his sharp beak, but soon he is back to chirping and calling quite loudly.
"It's coming from over here!" one of the men exclaims and he barrels through the brush towards the secluded spot Tristan had sought for slumber.
Tristan rolls away from the bushes instinctively and draws his sword in the process. He points it to the man, who has his own sword drawn and pointed into the thicket. Zeroun, for his part, quiets substantially, only offering inquisitive purrs and clicks.
"Down your blade, good fellow," Tristan instructs in basic. It was, after all, what the other men had been using to converse.
The man does not follow Tristan's advice, but rather casts an affirmation-seeking glance over his shoulder. "Vlax, c'mere. You'd best have a look at this!"
Tristan's eyes harden as he glares up at the man. He tilts his sword almost impeceptibly, changing his grip ever so slightly that he could either plunge the blade into the man's gut or swipe it across, cutting him in half if need be. Zeroun hops over to Tristan and peers quizzically over his shoulder. Tristan feels the little dragon's claws clutch at his shirt, hears him shift his weight in the leaves, but his eyes never leave the man.
One of the other men, evidently the one named Vlax, comes and peeks over his comrade's shoulder. He grins and shakes his head. "What's the problem?" he asks. "Just kill him."
"Eh, now! What's this?" the third man asks, trotting over to peer over his companion's other shoulder. "He's probably some poor bloke who got lost in the woods. Let him go."
"And risk having him tell the village about our attack? I don't think so," Vlax replies.
The first man, meanwhile, is watching Tristan's blade very intently. "He's not just some village schmuck," he whispers.
"What do you mean?" Vlax demands.
"Look at his sword. Now look at how easily he carries it, and the expression on his face. He's been trained at least. Perhaps he's a knight? It wouldn't be good to kill a knight. We'd attract too much attention."
Vlax blinks at the man and then at Tristan. "Eh! You! Are you a knight?" he wants to know.
Tristan's gaze flicks to Vlax. "If I were, wouldn't I be wearing some sort of colors or armor or something?" he asks rhetorically. "If I were a knight, where's my horse and retainers, and why am I sleeping in the middle of the forest in clothes that have been on my back more than three weeks, hmm?"
Vlax seems to consider this for a moment before shrugging. "Okay, he's not a knight. He's a village schmuck. Kill him." He turns away and walks further into the woods.
The first man looks as if he's about to plunge his blade into Tristan when the latter pulls his sword up and points it, in an easy, relaxed manner, at the man's heart. "Go away, and I'll let you live. I don't like to kill people," Tristan tells him.
"What's taking so long?" Vlax demands. The other man simply watches, blinking.
"Both of you just go away, and I won't kill you. I promise."
The two look at each other and then burst out laughing. "You're outnumbered!" they exclaim. Then, the first man makes as if to kill him.
Tristan, however, is quicker. He gave them a chance, and they denied his generosity. He flicks his hands to change his grip and shoves his sword into the first man's chest, pushing on the pommel to make certain the blade enters his stomach. He yanks it out while the man falls and he springs to his feet. Zeroun clings to his back, chittering on and on.
The second man has his sword half-drawn by the time Tristan swings his blade and neatly cleaves off his head. That leaves only Vlax, who turns at the two meaty thuds that announce the fall of the two bodies into the dead leaves that carpet the forest's floor.
Vlax draws a sword and regards Tristan, appraising him. "So," he remarks, "you are a knight?"
"I'm not a knight," Tristan replies crisply. He flicks his sword to the ready, holding it up with both hands. "I'm a traveler who knows better than to leave his home without ample protection, that's all."
Vlax laughs and shakes his head. "You don't want to die, do you, boy?" he asks.
"I should ask you the same."
"Ah ah ah. You see, I'm not going to die."
"That's right. If you walk away, you won't die. You're quick."
"Wrong, boy! I'm not going to die, because you are!" He then launches a wild attack, throwing blow after blow upon Tristan. The Weldoxian blocks them all easily.
While blocking the successive batterings by the man, Tristan addresses Zeroun. "Little one," he whispers, "go hide. I don't want you to get hurt."
Zeroun chirps and releases Tristan's shirt. Then he scamper-hops into the thicket, probably to hide in the pack Tristan had constructed a few nights ago. Now Tristan can turn the attention necessary to the fight.
"Weird bird you've got there," Vlax observes.
"Dragon," Tristan explains, not knowing quite why he needs to explain himself to the man. He doesn't even know him!
"Same thing, in the end. They hatch from eggs, and most fly. Bird, dragon, whatever."
Tristan simply glowers at the man. "Are you going to go away, or am I going to have to kill you?"
"Hah! Still thinking you'll best me, kid?" Vlax demands.
Tristan sighs and shakes his head slowly. "I don't want to kill you!" he repeats.
"Then you'll be the one to die. HAH!" That said, he launches another barrage of blows. Tristan knows he will get no peace until this man is destroyed. So, when he turns aside one of the blows, he moves in for the kill. He plunges his sword up to its hilt into Vlax's stomach. Then, however, he feels a burning sensation in his own shoulder.
As Vlax slides off his sword and to the ground with a thud, Tristan turns to look at his shoulder. Blood wells up in deep roses even as he stares at it. The wound is not deep, but it isn't inconsequential, either. He moves his shoulder around to see how it fares, but he does not get far before pain races through his body. He will not be able to fight properly for some time.
It serves him right, of course. He was an idiot for letting his guard down. He should have been watching Vlax's sword the whole time. Pity he wasn't thinking of saving himself, just of killing Vlax.
He staggers back to the thicket and gingerly steps over the first man he slew. He feels himself getting dizzy. Perhaps the wound is deeper than he had thought.
"Zeroun," he calls, his voice barely a whisper of leaves. He slings his pack over his good shoulder and glances around. "Zeroun?" he asks, his voice worried. "It's okay, Zeroun. Come out. Everything is all better now." He draws in his breath sharply and takes his good hand and peels off his vest. He ties it as best he can in a way that will apply pressure and clot up the blood. Then, he resumes searching for Zeroun.
A few moments later, a soft peep-chirping tells Tristan just where Zeroun is. Indeed, just a little later, about the time the sun sets, the little dragon finally pops out of his hiding place. He hop-flutters over to the body of one of the dead men and pecks at his lifeless chest inquisitively.
"He's... dead, Zeroun," Tristan explains. "Like the beasts back on the desert."
Zeroun turns his head and blinks at Tristan. He chirps and then flutters up, quite well, actually, to Tristan's knees before he can not fly any higher and plops unceremoniously to the ground.
Tristan smiles despite the swimming pain in his shoulder and bends down to pick up Zeroun. He sets the hatchling on his shoulder and wipes off his bloodied sword. Then, sheathing it at his hip, he and Zeroun begin again to walk through the forest.
By the end of the night, they reach a beach and the ocean, and it is there that they remain for quite a bit of time. There, Tristan can catch fresh fish, forrage for berries, and tend to his wound. Within time, it will heal, and Zeroun will grow. For now, though, Tristan sets up camp and, when the morning comes, sleeps, finding it odd that he has come to match his dragon friend's habits at least for now.
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