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What else could I do? I meant to do it the first place, and here she was calling me a liar. If I told her no it would've only confirmed to her that I had no intention of rescuing her sister, and if I told her yes, she would have assumed I was only going for the promise of sex.

So I gave her my cockiest grin, and I said to her, "As you say, Your Highness. I'm going to ******** you and your horse and your father. But first I'm going to piss down old Syr Ironside's throat and have a good look at this sister of yours. I might just fancy her more, and I bet she'll be awfully grateful."

*he smirks* That got me another slap, but it was worth the sting to see the look on her face.

Now, as to the rescue of Princess Annwyn... that's a story you'll never believe.

*Dafyd leans forward* So she insisted we go right then. In the middle of the night. My first thought was, "We? Are you mad woman? Do you want to get us both killed?"

But she insisted she was going. And just as well. I didn't have the least idea where Tircoch was. Some rescue that would have been!

Under the cover of darkness, we crept through the castle stealing horses and provisions. I had meant to procure myself a sword and some decent armor, but in the end all I came away with was a kitchen knife. Fitting for a kitchen boy, don't you think?

A few hours before dawn, we crept out the Eastgate and road like demons out of hell. There were three of us: the girl, myself, and this round old dwarf of a man named Melyt that the princess insisted we take with us. I suspect he was there to kill the kitchen boy should he prove unruly. The dwarf had no tongue, which was just as well since Elain prattled enough for the three of us.

More or less. Remember, Knights are arrogant bastards, the lot of them. *he chuckles at himself a little* Just look at me! Am I not the paragon of humility?

At first, it was all about not being captured by my own allies. If Ectwyr's men had caught me running off with the princess, I would've gotten more than a beating, I assure you.

After the third day, we found ourselves nearing Tircoch and that's when Elain decided I wasn't good enough to rescue her sister.

*he pitches his voice to sound like a squeaky girl* "This is folly, Kitchen Boy! Let us go back! Why get yourself killed?"

She even offered to fulfill our little agreement if only I would turn around.

This was a matter of pride. I would've told her where to stick her agreement, but just then Syr Trahaern's youngest brother found us. Small wonder. The girl was making enough noise to wake the dead.

I told him I was a knight, and I would face him in single combat. And of course that's when the girl squawks, "He's not a knight, he's just a kitchen boy."

Let me tell you something about being a knight. Friend or foe, if there's a Syr in front of your name, you are afforded a measure of respect. The moment she took that away from me, I was a boy with a kitchen knife again. At that point, I was nothing to this man. He was going to ride me down, and my only choice was whether I wish to meet him on horseback or on foot.

I chose foot, and I taunted him, "come down on foot and face me as a true knight!" He just sneered at me and drove his horse at me headlong.

*he pauses*

He fought me as though I was a commoner, and so I fought him like a commoner. I drove that kitchen knife right through his horse's throat. It crashed to the ground, pinning its rider underneath, crushing him as it flailed in its death throes. Then, while he was lying broken on the ground, I slit his throat too, and that was the end of the first brother of Tircoch.

*Dafyd gives him a look* Not quite. Suffice it to say the man knew Elain on sight. She is younger than her sister by five years, but they look enough alike, all the same. Likely, we would have been captured and I might or might not have been killed outright. For me, that wasn't a a risk I could afford to take. It's a reckless fool that gives himself over to his captors. Always fight on your own terms.

Less than I want to know. *he folds his hands under his chin*

Cora tells me there's an enemy that means to take this place.

*Dafyd nods, although he doesn't quite follow the part Luke mutters under his breath*

It all seems clear enough to me. Frankly, I don't blame you for acceding to his demands....

*Dafyd stands up and, sweeping his cloak aside, draws his sword and levels it at Luke's chest, the tip pricking lightly at the skin beneath his shirt*

*he speaks softly and evenly* And what if this is your only other option?

*Dafyd nods and satisfaction and raises the sword* Never fight on the enemy's terms. Make him fight on yours.

*he sweeps around and motions to the floor between them* Kneel.