Free Kingsteel (The Dragonkin Trilogy Book 3) by Michael Meyerhofer

blade on his sleeve, then sheathed his sword with the faintest of smiles.
    Aeko gestured to the Knight standing behind the Dhargot. “Sir Wei, give the ambassador another bottle of wine and show him to his horse.”
    As the visibly shaken Dhargot was being led out of the tent, Aeko noticed that the pearl-inlaid dagger was missing from his belt.
    Crovis twirled it between his fingers then offered it to her with a slight bow. “Care for a souvenir, Knight-Captain?”
    Only two other Knights remained in the tent, but Aeko dismissed them with a look. “I would prefer that my second-in-command not assert his ego by trying to start a war.”
    Crovis blinked then laughed. “I beg your pardon, Lady Shingawa, but it seems I’m more familiar with Dhargots than you are. That was no show of bravado. Their kind hate courtesy. Had he returned to the Bloody Prince with nothing but gifts and reassurances, there would be bloodshed within hours. This way, Karhaati will think we’re bold. He’ll respect us. With luck, he’ll use his assault on the Free Cities as an excuse to give us a wide berth.”
    Aeko saw his point, but she knew better than to concede too quickly. “You nearly killed his ambassador.”
    Crovis shook his head. “It’s written in their laws, what they call the Way of Ears. If an enemy’s messenger threatens you, you send him back bloodied. But you send him back alive. ” He offered her the dagger again.
    Aeko took it. “I believe you. Still, a word of warning would have been appreciated.”
    Crovis bowed. “Next time we are accosted by a foreign dignitary, I will bear that in mind.”
    Aeko pretended to examine the edge of the dagger, then she twirled it between her fingers—faster and more deftly than Crovis had—and handed it back. “Keep it. I’ve never had much fondness for foreign steel.”
    If Crovis caught the rebuke, he gave no indication. After reclaiming the dagger, he left the tent. Aeko heard a chorus of laughter from the other Knights of the Lotus waiting outside. Before the tent flap closed, she saw Crovis idly pass the dagger to one of them, who gave her a sidelong glance, grinned, and slid it into his belt.

    Vaanti pressed a silk cloth to his throat as he rode away from the camp. The pain from the shallow cuts had passed. Anger had replaced it. Vaanti swore oath after oath to the Dragongod that one day, he would face that man again and kill him. Though he had never fought an Isle Knight, he doubted the stories of their fighting prowess were true. Besides, even if they were, Vaanti had confidence in his own abilities.
    He touched his necklace, fingering the first pair of dried ears he’d taken as a trophy. Despite his mood, he smiled. Those ears had belonged to a Dwarrish sellsword, the biggest man Vaanti had ever seen. He touched the second pair, tracing their dried swirls with cold affection. Those had come from an Iron Sister at Hesod. He wished he’d had the chance to savor her, but the speed of her sword had convinced him to end the fight quickly.
    He did not touch the final pair of ears, though his smile broadened when he remembered the look of terror and agony on his dying father’s face. The man had savaged him all throughout his childhood—as was customary in the raising of warriors—but in the end, Vaanti had taken his revenge.
    As I’ll have my revenge on that Knight—and that pretty bitch who gives him orders.
    He laughed and took a long swig from the bottle of lotus wine he was supposed to deliver to his prince. He’d opened the bottle the moment he was beyond the Knights’ camp. After all, it would take him hours to reach Cassica, and the snow had just begun. The wine would keep him warm, though it was much too sweet for his liking.
    Vaanti glanced up at the stars as he rode. Spotting Armahg’s Eye, he shook his fist and spat on the snowy ground. Then he took another drink. He thought of all the other people he wanted to kill. He decided to add Prince Saanji to the