A young man yawned, stretched and looked over at the speaker. "Sitting on a hillside watching a bunch of mounted men facing each other across a field is no battle." He let a smile grow lazily across his face. "Oh, I don't know. I kinda like it like this." His long-fingered hand swept expansively across the sky. "It's a beautiful spring day with just enough puffy clouds in the sky to make daydreaming easy. See, there's a big three masted ship sailing off to find buried treasure."

The farmer chuckled lightly. "This ain't no game, son."

"I know, Goodman." Eyes the color of a cloudless day in the driest part of summer looked out over high cheekbones and a full, expressive mouth at the array of mounted knights. "And I doubt it will be boring for long. Give those on the field a little more time. They'll get bored soon enough and charge each other. Then, when they realize they're hogging all the fun, us lowly foot soldiers will be called in to play." He yawned again. "If we're lucky, they'll get tired early and we can all claim glory and victory over a good meal tonight."

An old veteran laughed and gestured with the knife he was using to pare his nails. "Aye. If we're really lucky, they'll forget we're up on this here rise and we won't have to get involved." Several men within hearing joined him in laughter.

"What really puzzles me," the young man said into the silence left behind by the merriment. "Is what the hell we're all here for."

"It's a war, you moron," snaps a lad with a pocked face.

"Really? I'd have never guessed." The young man skipped a pebble off the haystack that topped the pock marked countenance. "I mean, why are they fighting? They have to have a reason. Okay, so they're nobles." Laughter rippled through the group of men who had drawn closer to the lively conversation. "But I assume they think they have a reason."

The farmer pulled up a blade of new grass and began to chew on it absently. "The knight what came to my village said that the duke was going to take back what rightfully belonged to this duchy. Though I don't rightly know what that something is."

Hair so black it glinted blue in the bright morning sunshine as the young man reclined on the grassy slope. His long legs were pointed downhill with his toes framing the scene on the field below. "Wonder how many of the knights know?" Long fingers rubbed a chin as smooth as a baby's bottom. "Not that they would talk to the likes of us, eh?"

A wineskin began to make the rounds, its contents drunk not to intoxicate but to strengthen the bonds between men sharing unpleasant circumstances. A few ribald jokes told at the expense of the noble leaders of this venture further lightened the atmosphere. The sun rode across the heavens while below the negotiations continued with an ebb and flow of messengers moved between the ranks of mounted warriors.

The grizzled veteran nudged the young man with his free hand while offering the skin with the other. He was surprised at the hard muscle beneath the leather tunic. "Ye seen much battle then, lad?"

The young man returned the chuckle. "I've seen a few of these confrontations before. They're all the same. The noble argue. The commoners fight and die." Broad shoulders shrugged. "It's always the same."

The misplaced farmer and the veteran exchanged looks behind the back of the young man reclining in the grass between them. He could not be more than five and twenty years old. The farmer passed on the skin as he spoke. "You don't look old enough to have been around during the last war. That was over 10 years ago."

The young man turned to the farmer. "I'm not from around here." His enigmatic smile put a warm twinkle in his cerulean eyes.

"Are your crops in the ground?" The veteran regarded the farmer gravely. "Did they leave enough help on the land to see that there's food aplenty this winter? I've seen too many battles bring on hard times."

"Nay. Me and my three sons are all here. Our lord required us for his levy of troops." His sigh spoke of many things left undone. "My wife'll do what she can as will the others left behind."

"Right." The pocked face man huffed in derision. "The old, the young and the women. They're left behind and expected to do the work of all the departed menfolk as well as their own. And the dukes, nobles, lords and knights will return take their usual share of the bounty. Of course, that's assuming that the armies don't trample the fields first."

"Oh, they're already trampling the fields." Another voice spoke up from behind. "That there is my best pasture land. Had to move what was left of my herds to pastures south of the river to keep 'em alive. Most have been taken by the duke's men to feed the army."

Several other voices joined in the laughter. "Yeah, like we'll ever see any of that beef. Onions and potatoes is all we'll get."

"Don't forget the rats. They add flavor to the stew if you cook 'em long enough."

The general laughter spread over the hill like a welcome, gentle breeze that died before it reached the valley floor. The sounds that drifted back up through the forest of resting foot soldiers were the jingle and clank of the armored knights on their great destriers. The assembled cavalries stood in orderly ranks across a trampled space of 100 yards. Beaten tracks wove their way across this emptiness marking the course of the messengers delivering ultimatums and counter proposals. Since dawn, the opposing armies had sat and stared and waited for the moment of action.

A murmur wafted up the hill as the men-at-arms noticed the banners of the dukes moving out from the protection of the massed swords. In a careful dance of courtesy and protocol, the two mounted groups wove a colorful and precise path to the center of the field of war. Trumpets vied noisily for the privilege of announcing the important presence of their noble.

The men on the heights dropped their bantering and took up their weapons. Grumbles and prayers replaced talk of home and family. Tension crept through them like a fog, chilling the bones and hiding joy behind fear.

A rumbling growl startled the old veteran from his inspection of his sword and shield. Looking up he realized the animalistic sound had come from the opinionated young man. As he watched, the man rose to his feet.

"This is a ridiculous waste of men and time." The voice that had seemed so young had taken on an unfathomable depth of emotion.

Eyes as pale and cold as glacier ice pinned the old man where he sat. A fear as old and as primal as the very rocks of the mountain swept through him, chilling him to the bone. Paralyzed, he watched the young man descend the slope, men scrabbling to get out of his way. The azure leather of his tunic and britches blazed bright amidst the greens, grays and browns of the men and the hill. He continued unchecked toward the columns of knights.

The attention of the knights on the field was wholly on the two leaders. They first noticed the man in blue when their well-trained war-horses began to shy and prance nervously out of his way. So great was the astonishment of the mounted men that the man on foot got all the way to the front of the ranks before being challenged.

"You, there." A senior knight wearing the arms of a well-known barony called out sharply as he struggled to get his stallion under control. "Get off the field."

The broad shouldered man just kept walking.

"He's a crazy fool, he is," said the farmer to the veteran.

The words startled the old soldier out of his stupor allowing him to look away from the scene below. "I'm beginning to wonder." Putting away whetstone and sword, he rose and moved to a better vantage point. "Somehow, I think he knows just what he's doing."

The baron pulled his unruly beast in a circle. "Did you hear me?" These words elicited the same reaction as his original inquiry. He gestured to two men behind him. "Get that man off the field. Now."

"Yes, Your Excellency."

The two mounted men spurred their horses forward only to have them balk within 15 feet of their quarry. Try as they might, they could not get their horses to advance. Plunging and rearing, the steeds fought their rider's will. The animals' fear was evident in the foam flecked skin and rolling eyes.

The commotion began to draw attention from both sides of the field. A murmur of dissonant clamor rumbled and growled, growing in volume until the commanders assembled mid-field were forced to look for the source of the disturbance. Members of both escort groups were dispatched to deal with the interloper. Their attempts to draw near the solitary walker were even less successful than the previous efforts. One knight was dumped unceremoniously to the ground when his horse bucked and ran. Another managed to stay ahorse, but was taken for a wild ride away from the battlefield and the source of the wild fear.

The reaction of the men-at-arms was widely varied. Many were laughing at the frenzied actions of the knights. Some were talking nervously, wondering what had possessed their comrade to take the field. A few were plainly frightened by this unexpected and unexplained development.

"What the hell does he think he's doing?" The man with the pockmarked face grabbed the veteran's arm in a demanding grip.

"Why are you asking me?" the older man grumbles as his attention is wrenched from the battlefield.

"Cause he's with you, that's why."

"Don't know him myself." The note of angry desperation in the younger man's voice did not go unnoticed by the experienced fighter. "I thought he was with the farmer here."

Having been included in the conversation, the farmer moved closer. "Met him last night, I did. Helpful lad. Hauled firewood for me. Don't even know his name."

The three exchanged looks of surprised curiosity before returning their attentions to the events on the field.

The man in blue had halted near the dukes, just beyond the range of their lances. He stood still and quiet as the men recovered control over their mounts. His posture was relaxed, almost lazy, yet the very air about him was suffused with energy.

"What is the meaning of this intrusion, sirrah?" The closer duke spoke first, his voice full of authority that was not accustomed to noncompliance. "Get you back onto the hill and await orders."

"No."

The opposing duke drew his horse abreast of his rival. "Who is this man? Are you trying some new kind of trickery to escalate the conflict? So much for your protestations of peace." His anger-filled words brought the other noble's head around with a snap. Hands flew to sword hilts.

"Both of you are arrogant, greedy fools." The words were spoken loud enough so that even those in the front lines on both sides could hear. The attention of both antagonists and their guards focused completely on the stationary man.

"Allow me to take care of this _peasant_ trash, Your Grace." One of the honor guards managed to get his horse to take one step forward.

The other noble's man spoke up next. "It's a trick, my lord duke. They wish us to abandon all hope of peace to let this be settled in blood."

"Killing him will remove this pesky annoyance once and for all," offered yet a third.

The aristocrats restrained their men with some difficulty. A swell of noise rose again through the assembled hosts, cresting and breaking in waves on the field of war.

The azure clad man sighed mightily and shook his ebon head sadly. "Can you agree only on violence? You are both good and intelligent men. Your administration have been honest and beneficial to the people of your duchies. There has been prosperity across the land. The people are content and happy." He paused, crossing his arms over his massive chest. "Why do you want to throw all of this away?"

"What do you mean, sirrah?" The first duke looked affronted, but was clearly more inclined to listen.

The other noble let his destrier fidget beneath him. "I do not have the time to sit here and listen to the rantings of a madman."

"Then take the time, your Grace." The last two words dripped with sarcasm. "Either listen now or suffer later. There will be no war between your two lands today or at anytime in the foreseeable future. The only battle, if there must be conflict, will be between you and me."

The less amiable duke laughed harshly. "We are the ones with armies yet _you_ challenge us? You are truly mad."

"Am I?" The words were deceptively soft. He took a single step closer to the mounted men. The horses renewed their nervous demonstrations. "If I am truly insane, then the only thing that will be lost is time." Uncrossing his arms, he spread them out to his sides, palms open and forward. "I am unarmed and have no wish to harm anyone. Dismount, send you war-horses away and let us talk." One lifted hand forestalled the obvious objection. "But, of course, keep your guards."

"How dare you," stammered the duke.

"Calm down, Henry." The noble moved closer to his peer and placed a friendly restraining hand on his comrade's knee. "I believe there is more here than we can perceive. We were discussing peace." He turned in his saddle to face the standing man. "Please, sir. You seem to have quite an effect on our horses. Are you a magic-user?"

Blue eyes warmed and twinkled. "No, my lord Duke. I am not a sorcerer, wizard, warlock, necromancer or any other kind of magic _user_." He chuckled. "But you are right. Things are not what they seem. I assure you, talking on my terms will be much more pleasant than the alternative."

"Very well then." He dismounted, handing the reins of his mount to one of his knights. "Geoffrey, take the horses off the field and return forthwith."

"Yes, your Grace." Taking the reins of the other horses as the men dismounted, he rode toward the camp at the base of the hill, carefully avoiding the blue clad man.

"Cedric, surely you don't trust this...this person?" Duke Henry hauled back on the reins causing his charger to retreat several paces.

"Nothing will be harmed by listening, cousin." Duke Cedric caught the stallion's headstall. "All we have to do is listen." He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Please. I think we will all be best served by this action."

"Will ya look at that." The pocked face man slapped the veteran on the back. "Why are they dismounting?"

Lowering the spyglass he had pulled from his pack, the veteran glowered. "I have no idea, I ain't no mindreader. But it looks like we ain't gonna be fighting today." He brought the telescope back up to his eye. "We'll be told eventually. Just relax and be grateful you ain't gonna have ta kill today."

"Very well," huffed Duke Henry impatiently. "But I do not wish to stand in this field for very long. If you have something to say, sirrah, say it now."

Duke Cedric spared a fleeting look of disdain for the other noble. "I, too, am eager to hear what you say, sir. Pray, speak your mind."

"Thank you, Duke Cedric." Blue, blue eyes looked from one leader to the other. "I will be brief. There well be no war between you and you _will_ come to a peaceful compromise by sunset today."

Duke Henry folded his arms across his chest with finality. "We've heard that boost from you already. I am just as unimpressed now as I was then."

"Though not as skeptical as my esteemed cousin, I, too, would like to see some evidence why we should follow your directive in this matter."

The ebon head shook slowly, sadly. "Are you both so eager to fight that you will not listen to reason? No. Wait. I understand now. It is not a desire for conflict that holds you from peace. It is my challenge to your authority." He nodded thoughtfully. "Now. How can I best demonstrate my supremacy in this matter?" He paced for a moment. "You do have a valid point, my lords. Perhaps my name would mean something to you."

"By all means, tell us your illustrious name." The sarcasm was unmistakable. Henry gave appearance of looking down at the man who topped his height of 5'10" by a good half dozen inches.

"My name is Lapis." The words were evenly stated yet Duke Cedric paled visibly.

"Lapis? What kind of a name is that?" Duke Henry brushed it off with a wave of his gauntleted hand. "I gave my lady a box made of the stuff."

"Henry."

"A false name for sure," he continued. "Something you heard that impressed you no doubt."

"Henry." Cedric tried desperately to get the others attention as he watched the warm, blue eyes harden into orbs of ice.

"You have even gone so far as to dress in the color. No doubt in imitation of your betters."

"ENOUGH!"

Even Duke Henry took a involuntary step back as a wave of fear swept over him. Never had he felt the emotion with such intensity. One knight turned and fled from the field.

Duke Cedric stood his ground. "Good sir, if you..."

"I have tried to talk to you civilly, but you have refused to act in honor. Your manners have proven to be as flawed as your common sense." His fists clenched at his sides, the black haired man spoke through equally clenched teeth. "Very well. The time for talk is over. You shall have your proof that not only can I dictate the terms, but that I can also ensure they are carried out."

"By the claws of the great dragon! Would you look at that?" The spyglass fell from the veteran's eye as he gaped in astonishment at the field. The screams of men and horses rose up from the field below.

"What the hell is that?" The pocked face man's comment went unanswered as the rest of the men on the hill started in shocked awe at the events unfolding below.

Where the man in blue had stood just a moment before there now stood a great blue dragon. His hide was of a rich dark blue shot with glistening streaks of gold. From snout to tail, he was a full 25 meters in length. Great leathery wings stretched half a body length greater than that reaching halfway to the lines of mounted knights. Or what had been the lines of mounted knights. Pandemonium had erupted on the field at the sudden transformation. Knights lay upon the ground where they had been dumped by their panicking steeds. Horses ran in all directions. Those furthest from the dragon readied weapons or rushed to the aid of fallen companions.

The terror spread up the hillside though with less intensity. The veteran regained his composure and raised the spyglass. Both of the dukes remained standing before the beast.

"Our liege?" The farmer moved up beside the old soldier, shading his eyes from the glare with a hand. "Does he still live?"

"Aye. And he appears to be talking to the dragon."

"Talking?" The pocked face man made an unsuccessful attempt to wrest the telescope from the veteran.

"Well, lad, you know he can talk as you talked with him yourself."

"Oh." The young man grew suddenly rather pale. The veteran made no attempt to catch him as he slumped to the ground.

"What do you think they're talking about?"

"I have no more idea now than I did when he walked out there in the first place, good farmer. And like I said then, I guess they'll be telling us when they're good and ready."

Dust flew up from the field in a great cloud as the dragon gave a mighty downsweep of his wings, leaping into the sky. Powerful muscles rippled under the glossy hide as he stroked upward in a widening spiral. Leveling out at one body length from the ground, he circled the field once.

"I will be watching." The booming words were punctuated by a blast of fire that issued forth from the dragon's maw.

* * *

The spring day was clear, warm and dry. A man walked briskly down the trade road heading south. He had encountered little traffic since he had begun his journey the day before. There had not yet been sufficient time for the news of the peace treaty between Duke Henry and Duke Cedric to travel far. It made for quiet, unimpeded travel. Glancing up at the cry of a hawk, the man saw the bird circling in a sky of azure dotted with clouds of purest white. A smile creased his face as he stopped to watch the steady procession of the fluffy forms.

"Don't you think that big one looks like a three-masted ship sailing off in search of adventure?"

Reaction honed by a multitude of years wielding a sword in the service of nobles, the veteran whipped around, drawn sword in hand.

"Now is that any way to greet an old friend?" A black haired man clad in the purest blue lounged on flat rock partially concealed by a low, heavy bush. "Okay. So we didn't know each other all that long. And I guess we never really got to know each other well enough to be friends, but do I really warrant such a threatening response?"

The armed man lowered the point of his sword. "I don't know. Do you? You were a bit more hostile looking last I saw you."

"Quite true." He shrugged. "But am I not at present more meek in mien? I promise you, sir. I have no intention to do you ill. After spying your camp last night, I determined that I desired your company on the road."

"You journey south to Kesh then?" The soldier sheathed his sword as he spoke.

"I must return to the shrine. The custodians worry if I am gone over long." He swung his legs over the edge of the boulder and jumped easily to the ground. "Though I'm never quite sure if they are worried for my safety or that I might reduce their credibility by never returning." He shrugged expressively and strode across the grassy sward to join the man on the road.

"Well, now, the road is open to any what need it. And it be that much shorter when not walked alone." He held out his hand. "I am Galen of Corvinia."

The other gripped the hand in his own. "I am Lapis. Corvinia? You are a long way from home. What brings you this far south?"

"Ah, that, good friend, is a long story."

"I have all the time in the world, friend. Shall we walk?"

Galen laughed and clapped the younger man on the shoulder. Together, they followed the winding track along the foothills of the great mountain range southward.

The End

* * *

The king of Zor he called for a war

And the king of Zam, he answered

They fashioned their weapons

One upon one

Ton upon ton

They called for a war at the rise of the sun.

Out went the call to one and to all

That echoed and rolled like the thunder

Trumpets and drums

Roar upon roar

More upon more

Rolling the call of come out to war.

Throughout the night, they fashioned their might

With right on the side of the mighty

They puzzled their minds

Plan upon plan

Man upon man

At the dying of dawn, the great war began.

They met on the battlefield, banner in hand

They looked out across the vacant land

And they counted the missing

One upon one

None upon none

The war it was over before it begun.

Two little kings

Playing a game.

They gave a war

And nobody came.

~Zor and Zam

by B. and J. Chadwick

1968

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