I felt like a fool, standing with the sword raised as if we were going to duel, but Samra spared me from looking foolish for very long. He shook his head slowly, his gaze moving between me and the sword, and then he flung up his hands and launched two fireballs, straight at me.

I reacted instinctively and batted them aside with the sword, like I was playing baseball. That wasn’t so smart, I realized, as the fireballs went sizzling across the square, towards the onlookers and the wooden buildings surrounding it.

Luckily, Samra made them wink out, and then launched a new volley. Four fireballs this time, arcing out and then back in toward me, spread in a half circle so that I couldn’t reach them all with the sword. I didn’t have to, though - I’d felt it through the sword both when Samra launched the fireballs and also when he made them go away. So I did the same, trying to recreate the sensation to tell the sword to do it.

All four fireballs disappeared in mid-flight. I stared in surprise, even though I’d felt the magic surge through the sword towards them. Samra stared too, and looked even more surprised. Ha, I thought, you ain’t seen nothing yet. I hoped.

I swung the sword, and as it passed between us I launched a lightning bolt towards him. He yelped, and had to launch himself into the air with fire to avoid being hit. I sensed that too, and sensed the difference between the lightning and the fire. Could it be, I wondered, that he couldn’t actually deal with lightning? I decided to try.

I sent a fireball towards him, and he flung up a curved shield of fire that absorbed it. I sent another, and then began launching fire in various forms at him, as fast as I could. Fireballs, straight spears of fire shooting at him, rapid-fire small fireballs that spiraled out and forced him to switch around quickly, and a nice big fire cloud that rolled across the ground.

He dealt with them, but I could see him straining, and feel it in his magic too. This wasn’t child’s play, even for him. He was far from beaten, though, I realized when he shot into the air and began raining fire down on me, and around me.

Now I had to work for it, and even with the sword guiding me subtly it took work. It got easier when I finally understood I didn’t have to wave the sword around - I could just hold it and let the magic flow out. Even so, and even though I could sense the sword drawing magical power from the ground and the air, I felt something flowing out of me as well.

That bothered me, and as Samra stepped up his attacks, I found myself strained as well.

Caveria had known Samra, or known about him, and from her comments I thought he was an old hand at magical combat. Which meant that he probably knew a lot of tricks and facts that I didn’t, which he could use to win if I let him. Such as simply exhausting me. The Dragonblade was powerful, but if some of that power came from or through me, did that mean I would get tired faster than he would? I didn’t know, but it seemed likely.

On the other hand, perhaps I could unleash much more raw power than he could...

He had just landed after flying over me on those pillars of fire, shooting a bizarre amount of tiny fireballs at me - another strategy, I realized, where raw power might not be enough. The sword handled them easily, but only if I managed to sense them, focus on them and direct the sword’s magic towards them. It didn’t act on its own.

Right, I thought. Let’s see how you deal with this. I tried to emulate the fire pillar trick, and almost lost my balance and crashed back to the ground as I rose a meter or so into the air. Damn - it was cool but unsteady! It took a lot of effort - too much effort, I decided.

I let the pillar go and dropped back to the ground, but as I did, I launched a lightning bolt at Samra’s feet, followed by a big, fast fireball. I poured a lot of power into it, and Samra had to pour a lot of power into his defense. Since he also had to jump away from the lightning, he couldn’t focus completely on the fireball, and I saw his defensive shield wobble as the fireball struck it.

I grinned and repeated the exercise, and then began running in a circle around him, sending lightning bolts and fireballs as fast as I could.

That put him on the defensive, quite thoroughly. He had to jump and leap to avoid the lightning, but he also had to work to block the fireballs. Slowly, I drove him backwards across the square. He was hardly attacking me now, since almost all his effort went into defending himself. All he managed was a few small fireballs which I could easily deflect or absorb.

As we started to get close to the buildings on the far side of the square I realized I didn’t know how to end this. Samra was visibly tired now, and his defensive shields were shaky. I was getting tired too, from the constant flow of magical force that the sword demanded from me, so it would have to end soon.

It seemed Samra knew this too, because all of a sudden he shot into the air and poured a torrent of fire down over me. That was new, and I just barely managed to make a small bubble to shield myself with. The fire roared around me, and as he upped the power I sensed the power the sword had to wield to maintain the bubble.

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Then he increased the power even more, and I had to get down on one knee as the shield bubble shrunk. I put all my effort into maintaining it, and it was tough.

I couldn’t keep this up for that long, and as I searched for some other option I realized something else I’d noticed. I could sense the sword’s magic, and it felt distinctly different when I launched fire and when I launched lightning. Perhaps, I thought, they were separate, somehow.

Right now, all my focus in terms of fire was on shielding myself from Samra’s relentless assault, and I knew I couldn’t maintain the shield at this strength and launch fireballs at the same time. But perhaps I could launch lightning...

I tried, and found that I could. I sent a couple of small lightning bolts towards where I sensed Samra hovering in the air. I couldn’t see him through the inferno surrounding me, but the sword was quite clear on where the fire was coming from.

Ha, I thought as the fire raining down on me wavered, got you! So take this! I sent another small one, and then two large ones, as strong as I could make them, aiming a points at the same distance but on either side of where he’d been. I hoped he would dodge the first, and then move straight into the path of one of the others.

The fire vanished as if somebody had flicked a switch. I blinked in the sudden darkness, and saw something drop out the sky and slam into the ground. The sound was eerily similar to how it had sounded when Caveria crashed into the ground, but I got up from the ground and held the sword at the ready.

I didn’t see Samra, but I saw a dark shadow lying on the ground, not moving. I stared at it, and slowly realized I couldn’t sense him through the sword any longer. I made a beam of light with the sword, and walked over to the shadow.

It was Samra, of course, lying crumpled on the ground, his eyes open in a surprised look - but he was quite definitely dead. I stared down at him, feeling sick. I hadn’t intended to kill him... although I didn’t doubt he’d have been quite happy to kill me. And it had been in self-defense, not in cold blood. Even so...

I hadn’t intended to kill him, but as I stared at his corpse I realized that I’d had to - and would have to again. The Dragonblade would attract attention, and assassins and thieves and all sorts of people who wouldn’t hesitate to kill me to get it. I wasn’t sure they could, not without the help of the dragons or the Moon Goddess, but I didn’t think that would stop them.

So be it, then. I reminded myself that my goal was to stop the war, and if I refused by refusing to kill, there would still be a lot of killing. I would have to kill again, most likely. I would have to be careful, I felt, to avoid getting carried away.

The sword was jubilant at our victory, radiating joy and exhilaration and seemingly straining to get into another fight, and win again. It had enjoyed it, I realized. The fighting, at least, and the victory, if not the killing. I began to understand why the sword had caused so much destruction during its history, and why Tiriel had wanted to hide it away again.

I turned away from Samra, towards the general and the others. They were watching me with guarded expressions. I strode over to them, still holding the sword at the ready.

“Well,” I said. “You can’t ask Samra what he thinks about the sword now, I’m afraid, but I’d point out that the test he proposed fell out in my favor.”

“So it did,” the general said. “Lord Peter.” He looked very unhappy, and looked like he was thinking furiously. Better not let him do that too much, or too far. I held up my free hand.

“As before, I have one simple demand.” I looked the general directly in the eye. I was surprised and faintly disappointed that he didn’t even flinch. “I want the High Princess Tiriel and her party released immediately, so that I can rejoin them and we can go about our business without any interference from you or your men.”

The general didn’t reply, but I saw his gaze moving between me, the sword and Samra’s crumpled body. No, I thought, you’re not thinking your way out of this one.

“And as before,” I continued, “I am not here to negotiate. See to my demands immediately.” I sent a tiny lightning bolt out from the sword, to strike at the general’s feet. His aide and another officer nearby jumped back, but he merely looked down at his feet. Then he looked back at me and nodded.

“I will, Lord Peter. Temered,” he said, without turning his head. The aide stepped forward again, with a nervous look at me. “Assist Lord Peter to the High Princess’ quarters and see that they are released, now or in the morning, as they prefer.”

“Yes sir,” the aide gulped.

“I will send a squad to escort them out of Davorra, at their earliest convenience.” The general looked at me while he said this, and I gave him a small smile. He simply looked back, expressionlessly.

As I followed the aide a few blocks down the street, to one of the fancier-looking hotels I’d seen, and with a couple of soldiers carrying my two packs, I tried to think ahead. I knew I had to keep moving - getting stuck would be dangerous and could easily be lethal - but I had to have some idea of where I was going.

All I knew about the war so far was that Dimra was definitely involved, along with their neighbor Kamaria. What about the others? Who were even the others? What about the dwarves and the elves, and the merfolk that I’d only heard about? Where did they stand, and what did they want?

When we reached the hotel I’d decided on my next steps. I hoped the others would be willing to go along with it. I couldn’t very well threaten them with the sword - but I could perhaps simply keep moving, and force them to keep up.

Don’t stop, I thought as we climbed the stairs to the first floor. Keep moving.

We stopped outside a pair of double doors guarded by two Dimran soldiers and an officer. They looked sleepy, but the officer came awake quickly as the aide leaned in and relayed the general’s order. He stared at me in confusion, and at the Dragonblade.

He kept watching me as he knocked on the door and another man in Dimra’s colors opened it. He looked even more confused, but closed the door and went back inside. He returned a short while later - a very uncomfortable short while, at least for the Dimran men who squirmed and tried to look at anything but me and the sword.

After a short conference between the three, the aide turned to me. “Please follow me, my lord.” The man inside opened the door, and the aide went inside. I followed him into what seemed to be the outer room of a suite of rooms, and there, on a sofa, sat Arndrir and Thord.