One ​Good Knight (Five Hundred Kingdoms 2.) 1 csillagozás

Liam was the newest of the Champions, a true virgin knight, and thus absolutely the best to send after a dragon. The Tradition would have such force behind him, he would probably be shining like a young sun by the time he closed in battle.

Now, there were always options in handling wide-spread complaints. One was to ignore them. Another was to make plausible excuses. But the third was to distract attention from the cause of the complaints and make people focus on other issues.

The best way to distract attention was to start a war; unfortunately, Acadia was ill-situated to survive such a war. With only a minimal army and without the ability to pay for mercenary troops, a war, regrettably, was out of the question.

“Alas,” Florien said mournfully, “these are the lands of the Satyrs. Virgins are exceedingly difficult to find.”

“I am and we are,” Gina replied. “And it’s not very complicated, really. My father was a Champion, out of the Chapter-House of Earendell. When he started feeling himself going stiff in the knees he knew it was time to think about settling down.

“As it happens, I’m a good fighter.” Gina shrugged. “And I like it. So did Christine, Michael, Gabriel and Raphael. So father trained and knighted all of us. On top of that, I really believe in the ideals of the Champions, so I went looking for a Chapter-House that fancied me once I was knighted.”

“Librarians,” she said aloud, then grinned as she got it. “Good gods. You are Bookwyrms, aren’t you?”

Now she discovered just how Peri was able to write things.
He spoke.
He lay on the floor of the room with an open, blank book in front of him. She watched in fascination as he talked and words appeared on the pages.

“Tedious and Long-winded History of the Portaian War,” he said, and laughed.

He needed a powerful love spell—or more specifically, an infatuation spell—that did not require that she ingest, drink, wear or otherwise interact herself with the components of the spell. He didn’t think that she was nearly as cautious about what she ate and drank and so forth as he was, but now was not the time to rest on assumptions. Since virtually every spell he looked at involved making a drink or baking a cake or anointing the object of desire with something, he was beginning to get quite frustrated, when utterly by chance he came across a scroll in his own library that he had not looked at in decades. It dealt with very primitive magic invoking the Laws of Imitation and of Contact. And it dealt with the making of images.