The duo found refuge in another farm, whose owner was thankfully much less suspicious, due also to the fact they were now fully dressed. They didn’t exchange any single word as they prepared themselves for bed in the shared room the farmer had offered them, and in the morning, they kept the same unfriendliness, despite the farmer’s attempt to cheer the atmosphere up.

“So, hm, how long have you known each other, lads?”

Rikastil made a gesture with his hand, like for saying ‘stop talking’. Ildarg, on the other hand, just grumbled: “We just met on the way. We aren’t friends.”

“I see,” replied the farmer, rapidly getting back to his bread and butter.

The rest of the breakfast was spent in absolute silence, broken only by the occasional moo from outside. Whenever Rikastil turned his head to Ildarg, the latter would look elsewhere, and vice versa. Eventually, the farmer got up and announced:

“I have to go milk my cow. Do you need to remain here, or…?”

“No, we’re leaving now,” Rikastil cut out, “thank you for your hospitality, sir.”

Soon, the duo was walking on the beaten path that lead to the farm, without exchanging a single word. Despite Ildarg’s best attempts at cleaning his shoes, the stink of cow dung kept punching him. Eventually, they found a crossroad.

“I’m going to find a room in Lavidar,” Rikastil said, “it’s on the left path. Are you sure you don’t want to…?”

“I’m sure,” Ildarg replied coldly.

“Where are you going to?”

“Back to that dragon.”

“Do you remember where it is?”

“Yes. I had passed through here. I need to go right.” Only his own self-control made him avoid say: ‘Thankfully.’

“So, hem…” Rikastil made a last, heroic attempt at remaining on friendly terms. “See you in two days?”

Ildarg didn’t reply, and immediately moved to the right path.

***

For some reason, Kirja’s cave looked even gloomier than the first time Ildarg had stepped in. Likely, it was a result of being depressed like never before. He had hoped walking would calm down the memories for a while, but it was a hope born dead: the face of Rikastil, his performance at the inn and the thought of his daughter appeared in the most unexpected ways. There were clouds, trees, sometimes even rocks that looked like one of them. Even in that cave’s obscurity, he could glimpse some stalactites that looked similar. The dragon himself didn’t scare him anymore: Ildarg had faced him already, and whatever that giant monster could do to him, it could be actually better than watching Elise perish in front of her eyes.

Finally, the light of the lair appeared. He entered, and here it was, the sea of forbidden books, upon which lay an enormous, yellow-scaled winged lizard, who awakened from his slumber and directed his nose to the intruder.

“What, do, we, have, h-oh, it’s my bard.”

“Yes.”

“And it seems that you have brought a cow for me? Do you think I cannot hunt on my own?”

“What cow? I didn’t bring any.”

“Then why do I smell cow?”

Ildarg lowered his head. “I stepped on some cow dung.”

“Why?”

“It was just an accident!” He raised his head again and managed to look at Kirja in his eyes. “But I haven’t come to talk about this! I need to talk to you.”

“For what? Shouldn’t you prepare yourself for the battle?”

“That’s the point…” he lowered his head again. “I tried. I performed in a tavern. It was a disaster. I can’t win. It would be pointless to go to Lavidar.”

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

For a moment, Kirja’s eyes seemed like they had become redder, or hotter-in any case, his look was plain terrifying.

“I do not accept this kind of distrust from my personal bard! I have chosen you, and you shall join the battle!”

“You don’t understand! I have met my rival! He’s a professional bard, he has done it for a lifetime!”

“And? Have you put your heart in becoming better than him?”

“Yes! I found a bard who could teach me but…” he covered his face with his hands. “...he turned out to be my rival himself.”

The dragon didn’t answer immediately. However, he pulled his gargantuan head away from him.

“What did he teach you?”

“Uh…he taught me how to sing and play the lute. He wrote a song for me to perform at the battle. It’s the song I tried to sing in that tavern.”

“Sing it.”

Ildarg almost looked the blood abandoning his veins below his skin, making it pale from terror.

“I...it’s plain bad...you’ll not be pleased-”

“Sing it!”

Ildarg remembered he was dealing with a dragon. There was no chance to reply. He sighed and opened his mouth.

I cannot sing very well,

but my heart is true and pure

so today my throat proclaims,

mighty Kirja, I love you!

Your benevolence’s so touching,

your conditions are so good.

Hundred books every five years,

and you don’t take us as food!

Along, long silence followed. The sweat drops on Ildarg’s head crossed his front before falling on his shoulders.

“Is that all?” Kirja finally said.

“Y...yes.”

“Well…” the dragon patted one of his paws on the pile of books his body rested on. “It’s a mediocre song. And your performance is suboptimal. Besides, I couldn’t smell any affection from you, when you sang you love me.”

“I told you.”

“You’ll have to find another bard to teach you better. Leave this cave and do your duty.”

“I can’t do it in two days!” Ildarg shouted. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. The only reason I’ve come here is to pray you for that book to save my daughter. Eat me if you must, I’m ready to exchange my life for hers!”

“That’s not going to happen!” Kirja roared furiously, and the stomp on his book almost shook the cave itself. “I made a vow! One life lost is nothing compared to the evil I’d release again, if I broke it!”

“Please!”

The dragon opened his mouth and released the most furious roar possible. He didn’t say anything: that roar did not need any words. But Ildarg was desperate enough to overcome the terror only a dragon could inflict.

“Can you at least help me improve my singing?”

“That would require giving you information from another of my books. So no.”

“How can you hope to defeat your rival then?” Ildarg shouted, out of frustration. He didn’t care anymore about dealing with a dragon: in fact, he didn’t care anymore about anything else but saving Elise. “I need that kind of information! There are times when you must share your knowledge! What value does it have, if you just keep it for yourself? How could a book about singing or healing make us humans destroy the world again?”

He expected Kirja to roar at him again, or hurt him. He was ready. But the dragon didn’t react-at least, not immediately. His eyes weren’t turning red, nor did he open his mouth again. However, his breath was heavy.

“Don’t abuse the fact I’m not snapping you only because you’re my chosen bard. Before or after, I may lose control.”

“You know I’m right,” Ildarg said, calmly. “By the time I get back, it will be one day before the battle. I won’t have time to find another bard.”

“You’re the most stubborn human I’ve ever met, you know? And I lived long enough to meet thousands.”

“Do you want to lose more land?”

“If it means keeping my oath, yes, I accept defeat!”

“When was the last time a bard of yours won?”

Kirja’s head lowered down. Ildarg smiled. He had touched the right nerve.

“A while,” the dragon admitted.

“More or less…?”

“Ten years.”

“Aww,” Ildarg exclaimed, “I’m so sorry to hear that. You must have lost a lot of land and books. It’s not suited for a great dragon like you.”

Kirja raised his head a little. “Don’t fool me with dirty little mind tricks like this. I know what you’re trying to do.”

“It may be a mind trick, but it’s the truth. After your rival defeats you enough times to get the rest of your hoard, how can you be sure she’ll keep those books safe from humans? There’s no one you can know better than yourself-there’s no one you can trust better than yourself.”

“Mmmrrggghhh…” The dragon was in clear difficulty.

“If you let me go, I’ll be back.”

“It’s only two days. After the battle, I’ll be free to gobble you up.”

“I am a father. Good parents are ready to face anything to save their offspring.”

“Oof. Your nature as social animals has always given me headaches.” The dragon snorted. “Fine! I’ll tell you the contents of my books. But first you must accept my conditions. First, under no circumstances shall you leave this cave until the battle. Second, I will take you with me to that village when the battle begins. Third, in case you win, you must come live with me permanently, so I can prevent you from revealing around what I’m going to teach you; also, you shall become my permanent, personal bard, and you shall have no right to leave this cave, forever. Fourth, in case you lose, you give me the irrevocable authorization to eat you.”

Ildarg reflected for a moment. It was already more than he possibly hoped for. It was wiser not to demand too much. He had a pair of questions, though.

“If I win, can my family come live here too?”

The dragon paused for a while too, then said: “I can’t think of anything against it. But they must live under your same conditions.”

“Then I’ll first ask them. Also…”

“What else? You’re already forcing me to do things I thought I’d never do?”

“If I lose, can you eat me whole?”

“What?” Then, the dragon made a big, unmistakable facepalm. “Oh dear. Don’t tell me you’re one of them.”

“Of what?”

“Sometimes I have been visited by certain humans who asked me to...well, I couldn’t not fulfill their request, but they were the most awkward meals I ever had. Anyway. Do you accept my conditions?”

Ildarg smiled. Not many could say they had managed to stand their ground against a dragon. In the worst case, if anything, he could fulfill an idea that had always fascinated him...

“I do. When do we begin our lessons?”