"Mercy"

King Cynric looked down on the three men kneeling before him. "Arran, former head of my father's guard." Arran looked up, his expression showing open contempt for the man before him.

"You and your co-conspirators are guilty of the murder of my father, your king. The sentence, as you know, is death." One man started to sob, but the look on Arran's face did not change.

"Just get..." he started.

"However," Cynric interrupted, "I am not without mercy. My father was... harsh, to say the least." Cynric waved one of his advisors forward.

"My liege?"

"How long would you say until sunset?" Cynric asked.

"Two hours, my liege." The advisor stepped back.

"You have two hours before I send my men after you. Survive until morning, and you are free men."

Skeptical, Arran prodded the other two into motion. They ran.

Minutes later, Cynric told his new captain of the guard, "Send my pets after them."

"My liege?" he asked. "But you said..."

"I said two hours until I sent my men after them.

"But dragons are not men."