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“Sir Kirk,” the man said as he approached Kirk's table, looking at the blonde man having a tankard of ale in the pub nearest the castle. Kirk went there because no one recognized him as one of the most celebrated knights in the kingdom there. He preferred to be out with the men of his troop of knights, righting wrongs, but he always seemed to get called into duty to save the kingdom.

Sometimes he wondered if saving the kingdom the first time had been a mistake.

“I’m in mourning,” he said.

“Sir Spock said you would be here,” the man said. “I’m sorry for the loss of your mentor, Preceptor Pike.”

“You didn’t know him,” Kirk said, his voice on edge.

“Actually, I did,” the man said. “I was a knight with him before courtly affairs drew me away from the order. May I sit?”

Kirk waved his hand, indicating he could sit in the chair in front of him. Most knights who knew Preceptor Pike knew him the way Kirk did, as a mentor. There were few who knew him as knight himself.

Yesterday, there had been a fight with a dragon, who had come out of nowhere. Kirk had been among the knights who had gone after the dragon; there had been an earlier attack with a mercenary that had injured or killed many of the order in Londontown, and it had been Kirk himself that drove the dragon away from a later attack in the city of San Francisco, at the order's headquarters. But it had been at a heavy cost. He himself just had his armor singed; Preceptor Pike had been one of the first targeted by the dragon. It seemed as though the dragon had gone after the order’s leadership, and much of the order was in chaos at the moment.

“I am the court magician, but most know me as Marcus. Pike certainly did when we were novices together.” Marcus signaled for a tankard of ale. “I have the means to stop the dragon. A powerful spell recited when a poison is thrown at him and he’ll be taken care of. But I need brave people to deliver it to the dragon’s lair and cast the spell in my stead. I’m too infirm to travel that far.”

“You know where the lair is?” Kirk asked, and Marcus nodded. “I’ll take those closest to me.”

“Good,” Marcus said, nodding again. “You’ll be outfitted with new armor and the best horses to replace those that were lost. New weaponry as well, should you need it. But you must set out immediately. Kronos is in a dangerous kingdom, and it is a long trip.”

“We’ll take what you can give, but we’ll trust to horses to Sir Chekov and Sir Sulu,” Kirk said. “They have knowledge of where the best horses in all of Federation are.”

Marcus leaned back, a small smile on his face. “One last thing. This is going to be off the books,” he said quietly. “The king is wringing his hands to find a way to solve this, but because the dragon is in the kingdom of one of our enemies he can’t sanction the attack himself. You understand that of course, don’t you?”

Kirk gave him a nod. He was well-versed in courtly ways, having been a member of the king’s advisory board until he made a mistake and crossed the wrong person by helping a village survive a curse. The village was supposed to be doomed but between himself and Sir Spock, they had saved it, even though it had gone against the king’s decree. It fermented rebellion if the knights did things against the king’s wishes, but Preceptor Pike had pulled strings to make Sir Kirk his second in command while Sir Spock had gone to be the second in command of Preceptor Abbot. Preceptor Abbot had also been among those killed in the dragon attack, however, and that left both of them in command, though with this mission, Kirk would prefer to have Sir Spock as his second in command, as usual.

“I want Sir Spock by my side. I know he was put in charge of the knights at Bradbury, but I’ll be taking the knights at Enterprise and I want him with me.”

“Done. Someone else will go to Bradbury in his stead in the morning.” The tankard of ale arrived and Marcus took a sip. “Preceptor Pike said you were a good man. I’m sorry I had formed the tribunal against you after the incident. It’s men like you who will bring this kingdom to its former glory.”

“I just want revenge for those lost,” Kirk said. “But if it will help the kingdom, that’s a bonus.”

Marcus nodded and lapsed into silence for a moment. “Would you like to hear more about Preceptor Pike as a novice? I know he looked at you like a son. And you to him as a father. It might help ease some of the pain.”

“I think I would like that,” Kirk said with a nod of his own. He sipped his ale as Marcus launched into a story involving the princess of another kingdom and listened intently. There was much that Kirk didn’t know about Preceptor Pike, and maybe it wasn’t too late to learn.

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“You know, going to a pub after getting your head banged up wasn’t the best idea,” Sir Leonard said the next morning as Sir Kirk went for more mead. Mead was better than the house brew at the pub and had some sort of restorative powers, which he sorely needed this morning. Marcus had spoken of Preceptor Pike long into the afternoon and far into the evening. Kirk was surprised there was so much about his mentor he didn’t know, but then, he’d only known him for a short time. Marcus had been a friend for far longer.

“You don’t need to remind me,” Kirk growled as Leonard came to him and put the back of his hand to Kirk’s forehead. “I’m not running a fever, Bones. I’m hungover.”

“And a grouchy ass, too,” Leonard said. “You should let me look at you. I was trained in the healing arts, you know. That’s why you’re dragging me along on this foolhardy mission.”

“It’s not foolhardy,” Kirk said. “There’s a dragon menacing the countryside and we’re knights. It’s our job to take care of it so it doesn’t harm any more people.”

“But we aren’t staying in our country,” Leonard said. “We’re crossing into enemy territory.” He stayed silent them as Kirk drank a tankard of mead, and Kirk knew exactly what he wanted to say: that he was a healer, not a goddamn fighter. That Preceptor Pike wouldn’t want them to do it. That there was no sense in revenge.

Sir Spock had tried to say many of the things the night before, when Kirk stumbled bleary-eyed into the keep, just wanting to have his head hit the pillow and to sleep as much as he could before dawn, which was when they would all need to rise to get the spells needed to make this trek. The travel compression spell they all knew by heart now, but the others to cloak them and keep them safe in hostile weather, as well as the spell needed to defeat the dragon, were yet unknown to them.

Spock had been ignored, and for now, Leonard was going to be ignored too.

As if the mere thought of him summoned him, Spock came down with Sir Nyota. It was a somewhat open secret in the garrison that Nyota only pretended to be a Sir; in reality, she was Lady Nyota, daughter of one of the Ambassadors to the King. But her father had allowed her to learn everything to be a knight, and was given the honorary title of Sir, so long as she was in knights garb. She wasn’t the only one; Spock’s adopted sister Michael was a knight in a different garrison, and she had taken a male name to fit in better. Though Kirk was used to seeing Nyota in her armor, he wasn’t used to the tension that seemed to be radiating between Spock and Nyota.

“There is a squire coming with us, right?” Nyota said. Her tone was clipped and she seemed upset. Kirk wondered why, but as Nyota was Spock’s betrothed and he didn’t want to meddle in their personal relationship, he wasn’t about to ask.

“Yes. Wallace is...somewhere,” Spock said, his brow furrowing. “Nyota…” But Nyota walked away, and Spock sighed, turning to Kirk. “You are hungover.”

“No shit,” Kirk murmured, shutting his eyes.

“Drink this.” Spock pulled a flask from his hip. “Just a sip, though. It’s potent.”

Kirk side-eyed him and took the flask, opening the lid and taking a sip. It was spicy, almost burning his lips, but he swallowed the sip and slowly he felt better. “What is this?”

“A healing draught, made with dragon’s blood.”

“I JUST DRANK DRAGON’S BLOOD?!?” Kirk said, his eyes wide as Leonard tried not to laugh.

“Dragons are useful for all sorts of medicinal purposes. It’s what the upper class is able to afford,” Leonard said, his tone amused.

“How did you get it?” Kirk asked before getting more mead.

“A gift, from my sister. I don’t have much, but I intend to collect specimens from the dragon for research.” Spock turned to Leonard. “I will share them with you so you may expand your collection of healing draughts and powders.”

“Thanks,” Leonard said. Kirk finished the mead and then Leonard clapped him on the shoulders. “Almost time to go. Any last wishes before we head away from home?”

“For all of this to go well,” Kirk said.

“Here here,” Leonard said, lifting his hand up. Kirk made his way out to the courtyard, Leonard and Spock behind him, and he blinked at the soft light rising from the East. Even with the travel compression spell, it would be a long trip to Kronos. He just hoped they made it there and back in one piece, or else Preceptor Pike would have died for nothing.

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There was no farewell ceremony, and no members of the court save the court magician to see them off. He gave them the spells they would need and then practically ran back towards the cover of the castle. Kirk frowned as he watched, wondering if this was an omen that maybe this trek into the darkness was a bad idea.

His loyal group of knights had all survived, and they were accompanied by two squires. Wallace was new and had come to them only a fortnight before. But beggars couldn’t be choosers, and with the decimation of the chapter house, they needed strong men.

But one thing gnawed at him. Yes, the dragon would be more valuable dead than alive, to be collected for the parts rather than it being whole, but something about the situation in the bright light of day made him feel uneasy about it. If he remembered anything Preceptor Pike had said, it was to trust what you could see, touch, taste, smell, and feel. And that trust did not extend to the Court Magician.

They used the first travel compression spell to get out of the keep and into the village around the city where they dwelt, and once they were settled Kirk removed his helmet and looked at his men and Nyota. “I have qualms about killing the dragon. There is something...that doesn’t sit well with me about all this. Yes, the dragon is a menace, but I think there’s more to this situation. So we’ll go in with eyes and ears open and see for ourselves what’s going on. I don’t know church politics, and I definitely don’t play at knowing how to survive in court, but…”

He trailed off but he could see they all understood. Good, He had gotten his point across.

“If I may,” Spock said after a moment. He got off his horse and went to each knight, handing them a small vile. “The healing draught made from dragon’s blood. A small sip will heal massive wounds; the whole vial may be able to save you from death. I divvied up the stores I had in case it was needed.”

“Some good news in this whole mess,” Leonard muttered from beneath his visor.

Kirk grinned and put his helmet back on. “It’s a long trip and we have ten more traveling spells to do before we’re outside of Kronos. When we get there we’ll find safe ground and set up our encampment. Tomorrow we’ll go after the dragon.” He lowered his visor and began casting the transport spell.

Each spell went fine; they used the moments of respite between each leg of their journey to have some fresh water before they got to Kronos, a land known for its fire and heat and black, sluggish waters. They ate enough so that when they landed at the end of the last spell they would be hungry again; as traveling spells only compressed distance and not time, it was taking them days to get to Kronos, but it seemed instantaneous.

Finally, they were one spell away when Kirk felt the scroll burn up in his hand. While they had all memorized the basic transport spell, the court magician had given them ones that had compressed some of the time, so the journey took one week instead of two. He frowned, and then found the other scrolls containing the spells for safety and fresh, clean water had burned up as well.

“What witchcraft is this?” Sir Chekov said.

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it,” Kirk said. He looked around. There was an outcropping of rocks to their left and a shallow pool of clear water to the right. “We’ll camp here and tomorrow try and figure out what the hell happened.” He took his visor off and frowned. He could smell the fire and brimstone of Kronos in the air, a tang on the wind that burned his tongue, but they weren’t there yet.

And it looked as though someone didn’t want them to survive this journey.