The clank of riveted metal joints caused Mordred to duck, but not fast enough. A gauntleted hand closed over his throat; a moment later, Mordred found himself pinned to a nearby wall. His assailant plucked his sword and dagger from his belt, then held a sword of his own to Mordred’s side. Mordred’s hands scrabbled uselessly at his attacker’s armored arms; a low snicker from the man finally identified him.

Amhar.

A surge of desperate energy roared through Mordred’s veins. His half-brother meant to kill him; of that, there was no doubt. Mordred was equally certain that Amhar intended it to be a long, slow death.

Mordred struck at the arm grasping his throat with all his strength. Something snapped in his hand, but Amhar’s grip loosened. Recovering quickly, Amhar swung his sword.

It struck Mordred’s side with a resounding clang, and stopped. Amhar readied himself for another swing, but Mordred had already opened his mouth and exhaled a soporific fog. Amhar dropped to his knees, struggling to keep his eyes open as his half-brother knelt next to him.

“You can’t be trusted with this,” Mordred rasped, pulling Amhar’s sword out of his grip. “Go to sleep.”

Amhar obeyed.

***

Gawain watched Amhar turn down a side street, a nasty suspicion forming in his mind. He started off after him.

“And then I was- Hey, Gawain, what’s wrong?” Kai trotted after his friend.

“Amhar. He-”

The clash of metal on metal spurred both men into a run. They turned the corner in time to watch Amhar collapse.

“What?” Gawain breathed.

Kai started to laugh. “Merlin owes me a drink. I told him Mordred was a true Pendragon.”

Gawain eyed his friend. “Meaning?”

Kai waved at the kneeling figure. “Arthur never uses his powers much anymore, but anyone who wants to claim the name Pendragon has to show two abilities – the ability to use his breath as a weapon, and the ability to use his own skin as armor, as Merlin’s godawful books put it.”

Mordred stood and walked over to them, holding Amhar’s sword. As he drew closer, Gawain could just see a scaly pattern as it faded into Mordred’s skin.

“Hello. Have either of you seen my weapons?” the Pendragon asked.