Spring had already come to Mikhail's home, but snow still fell in the valley of the Altai. An older blacksmith leaned on a crutch and looked up from his anvil as Mikhail and Spirit plodded wearily through the icy gates of the city.
“Good evening,” Mikhail greeted the man with a low bow as he dismounted Spirit. Every noble knight remembers to be polite, no matter how tired he may be. “My horse and I seek shelter from the night's storm.”
“Stallion...” Spirit whispered, but his head drooped so low that no one seemed to hear him.
“You are Mikhail Andreyevich,” the blacksmith replied in a deep, well-spoken voice. He moved forward on his crutch and extended a hand of welcome. “My name is Yerlan. Long have we heard of your good deeds in the south. You may find rest with our village. My daughter will tend to your horse.” Yerlan turned and called softly: “Aruzhan.”
A young woman appeared from the house behind the blacksmith's workshop. Her long, flowing hair matched the jet-black of her father's, but her bright hazel eyes shone with their own light as she gently took Spirit's reigns from Mikhail's hanging hand and led the exhausted horse towards the nearby stables.
“You must be weary from your long journey, my boy.” The blacksmith gestured to a stool near the workshop's fire. “But if you please, have a seat and tell me what brings you to our Altai Village.”
“I seek a dragon.” Mikhail sat carefully on the stool with his back straight and his shoulders squared, for every knight knows to show respect to an elder. “I have hunted him for a long time. His trail led me here.”
The blacksmith nodded gravely as he sat down across from the young knight and stretched his lame leg gingerly in front of him. “Your fame as a mighty dragon hunter precedes you, Mikhail Andreyevich. So does your reputation. It is said that you are faithful and true in all that you do. The people of our village have no love of dragons. They will assist you in whatever way they can.”
Mikhail nodded in gratitude. “Your village is also well-known to many of the people I have met on my journey. It is said you came from a beautiful mountain kingdom far to the south, where your king ruled many years with wisdom and kindness.”
“He gave his people the best he had,” the blacksmith nodded gravely. “But in the end, he could not protect them from the evil that drove us to exile. Another story for another evening, perhaps. But for now, you are weary. You may lodge in the room above this workshop.”
“Thank you,” Mikhail bowed as he rose. “But first I will see to my horse.” For a knight always thinks of his friends' comfort before his own.
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