He swung himself easily up into the saddle and jerked the reins. Blazer lifted his forelegs off the ground and spun around. Quentin lifted his hand to Bertram, who waved back, and then Blazer leapt away. They raced along the road leading down the broad slope of the hill, dodging the ox-drawn wains bearing food and supplies to the workmen. Then, feeling the sun on his face and the beauty of the day springing up inside him, the King spurred Blazer off the road and let him run down the side of the hill and out onto the plain below Askelon.

The castle rose up on its crown of rock, shining like a jewel in the morning light. Red and blue pennons fluttered and snapped from a thousand spires. The high battlements soared above, topped with turrets and barbicans-strong, safe, forever secure.

Quentin enjoyed the strength of the animal beneath him; his heart raced as they thundered over the still-damp ground. Blazer’s hoofs struck up muddy turf and flung it skyward as they galloped on.

Presently they came to a great stone cenotaph standing alone in the center of the plain. Quentin reined Blazer to a trot as they approached. They stopped in front of the cenotaph, and Quentin dismounted. He walked to the monument and knelt at its base.

Inscribed in stone on both sides of the slab were the words Quentin knew by heart. Yet he read them once again. They said:

Here upon this field did the warriors on Mensandor meet and defeat in battle the barbarian host of Nin, called The Destroyer.

Here Eskevar, Dragon King, Lord of the Realm, fell, and many brave men with him, nevermore to rise. Peace was purchased with their blood and freedom with their blades.

After reading the words he had read so often; Quentin stood and remounted and rode off once more toward Askelon.