Authors: G. A. Aiken
Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Romance, #dragons
And gods-dammit if she wasn’t right.
“I had no idea,” Ragnar admitted.
“Nor I.” Vigholf leaned back against a tree trunk, his arms crossed over his chest. “Who knew the boy had it in him?”
“I knew.” And the brothers looked over at their cousin. “I knew it was waiting there to be released.”
Blood slashed across Meinhard’s face, and he wiped it off with the back of his hand. “He’s got a rage in him, that one. He just don’t know it yet.”
“He knows it now.”
“Nah. He has all sorts of excuses for this. But whatever set him off is only part of it.”
“Why didn’t we set him off earlier?” Vigholf asked. “We could have used
this
royal in a few battles to do more than clear trees.”
“Who would have taken that beating? Which of our kin would you have saddled with being beaten by Éibhear the Chivalrous? It’s better this way. A Southlander gets him started, and now, if he comes back with us, we can start to really hone that rage until he’s like a living, breathing weapon we can unleash at our whim.”
Ragnar tipped his head to his brother. “Told you the armies should report to Meinhard.”
“And report they shall.”
“You named him the Chivalrous?” Dagmar asked from behind them, and all three males winced.
“Dagmar—”
“That was rather petty of you.” To those who did not know her, those words probably didn’t sound nearly as harsh as they actually were.
Her mate’s gaze moved back and forth among the Northland group. “What’s wrong with chivalrous?”
“You get a name like that in the north, it just means you’re weak. Too nice to fight.” Dagmar shook her head. “And he has no idea, does he?”
“If it helps”—Ragnar watched Éibhear slam his cousin to the ground face first and hold him down with one hand, while twisting his arm around to his back until something broke—“I doubt he’ll be keeping that name much longer.”
Cursing, and with a broken arm, the cousin got Éibhear off him by slamming the back of his head into the Blue’s face. Then he faced him and got in a few good punches to Éibhear’s head, too, with his sound arm. But those hits only seemed to piss Éibhear off more. The blue dragon head-butted his cousin so hard that the sound cracked across the lake and everyone in earshot flinched. Then the royal caught hold of his cousin’s throat with one hand and began to pummel him in the face with the other. What impressed Ragnar the most was that both managed to stay human during the whole thing. That was a skill even Ragnar didn’t think he had. His ability to stay human often hinged on whether he felt like it or not.
He looked over and saw Keita watching. She cringed at every blow, winced at every hit. Although she wouldn’t get involved, she still didn’t like it.
Ragnar motioned to his brother and cousin. “We should stop this.”
“Why?” Vigholf asked. “Even their kin aren’t getting in the middle of it.”
“I know. That’s why we should stop it. We have no emotional stake in this.”
“No,” Meinhard said. “But I’m guessing she does.”
Iseabail pushed past everyone in her way and briefly watched Éibhear and Celyn. At this point, the cousin’s face was nothing more than a bloody mess, but still Éibhear held him steady in one hand while he continued to hit his cousin over and over again. Not exactly chivalrous, now was it?
Then again, Ragnar had the feeling the cousin had stopped putting up a fight simply because Izzy was standing there.
Snarling, Izzy stomped over to them, yanking her arms from kin who tried to stop her. As she neared the two battling Fire Breathers, she grabbed up another training shield in both her hands.
“Gods,” Vigholf said in awe, and Ragnar had to silently agree with him. A training shield might not be made of solid steel, but it was made for dragons who trained every day to be warriors. He remembered his first one and how tired his forearms got from holding it those first few months of training.
And yet here was this human—a female, no less—who swung that shield like she’d been born wielding one, somehow ignoring the fact that the shield was several inches taller than she and probably weighed the same. She swung it and slammed Éibhear’s side, knocking him off his feet and right into a few of his kin who stood nearby. For the first time, Ragnar realized exactly how little chance his father had had when he’d faced and died at the hands of this girl and her witch mother, Talaith.
Yet it was a tribute to the hardheadedness of these fire-breathing royals that Éibhear did nothing but rub the side of his head and scowl at Izzy as if she were one of the dark gods herself.
“You stupid bastard!” Izzy accused, throwing the shield down and making the ground shake just enough to have every dragon marveling at her.
“
Did you even think about who you were fucking?
” the Blue thundered at her.
“Oh, I thought about it,” she replied, venom dripping from every word. “I thought about it and
enjoyed
every second of it.”
“Damn,” Vigholf muttered at Izzy’s words. “You know that one had to hurt.”
Izzy reached down and, with the help of her cousin Branwen, pulled the battered cousin to his feet. With one arm around Izzy’s shoulders and the other held close to his body, Branwen pressing into him to give leverage, the dragon let them walk him back to the fortress. He was weak, losing a lot of blood, but he made sure to look back over his shoulder one last time so that he could give his cousin a blood-filled smile.
Seeing that smile for what it was—lusty leering and “I won!” triumph—the Blue was on his feet again, but Meinhard moved faster and slammed him back to the ground.
“It’s over, lad,” Meinhard told him in that way that always earned the respect of his young trainees. “Anything else now will just get that girl to hurt you worse than she already has. And your ego won’t come back from that.”
Morfyd slipped past them, crouching in front of her brother. “Oh, Éibhear.”
“I’m all right, Morfyd.” Éibhear got to his feet, and his sister stood with him, her gaze troubled as she examined him.
She caught hold of his hand. “Come with me.” She dragged him off, ignoring his protests, and Ragnar went to Keita.
“You all right?” he asked her.
“I wasn’t the one getting beaten into the dirt.”
“No. Nor was it your precious baby brother getting beaten into the dirt either. Not really.”
“I tried to warn you. You shouldn’t underestimate him.”
“I think I shouldn’t underestimate any of you.” And without much thought, he used his thumb to wipe away a few drops of blood that had splashed along her cheek. Her lashes lowered, and her skin grew heated. That was all it took for her.
Then again, it took even less for him.
Still, with all that went on between them without a word spoken, neither could ignore the silence that had developed around them.
The attention of both royal and low-born was on them, Ragnar unable to read the expressions and deciding it was probably best not to.
Ragnar dropped his hand away. “I’ll see what I can do for your cousin. I’m pretty good help after a brawl.”
The princess nodded and said nothing else, so he followed after Izzy and tried to ignore all the eyes that were on him.
“A Lightning?” Ghleanna demanded. “Have you gone round the bend?”
Keita rolled her eyes. “When have you ever cared what I do?”
“Your father will care. And your mother will bloody care.”
“Well, that’ll keep me up nights.”
Ghleanna grabbed hold of Keita’s arm and yanked her a few feet away from their kin. Her grip was brutal and her anger palpable. Normally, Keita would try to ease her aunt’s concerns, telling her what she wanted to hear. But not this time.
“What are you playing at?”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
Her aunt’s fingers tightened, making Keita’s eyes water. “Don’t play your games with me, little miss. This is bad enough, but now I hear about you and—”
Ghleanna cut herself off, and Keita snapped, “Me and who?”
“I can’t believe you’re that stupid.”
Keita tried to pry Ghleanna’s fingers from her arm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I’d like it if you’d let me go now.”
Her aunt’s eyes, black like Bercelak’s, narrowed; her lips thinned. Ghleanna had little patience for those who didn’t listen to her and jump at her commands. But Keita didn’t jump at anyone’s commands.
“Let her go, Ghleanna.” Fearghus stood next to them now.
“We’re just talking.”
“You can talk later.” Fearghus took Keita’s other arm and pulled her away from their aunt. “You should come to the castle tonight and see the babes.”
Fearghus led Keita off.
“I don’t know what’s going on,” Fearghus said when they were halfway between the lake and the castle. “But whatever it is, little sister, I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Don’t I always?”
Fearghus stopped. “I’m not joking. I’ve got enough shit to worry about without worrying you’re about to end up on the wrong side of the Cadwaladrs. Especially if what I’m hearing about you and Esyld is true.”
“You need to trust me, Fearghus,” she said, unable to outright lie to her eldest brother about something so important.
“I do trust you, Keita. That’s what has me worried. You’re not usually this…obvious. And the strength and speed with which this rumor has spread has the earmarks of Dagmar Reinholdt all over it. Yet I know she likes you. So then why would she say anything that could put you in such trouble?”
“Give me a little time. Please.”
“I will.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “But in the meantime, watch your back.”
Izzy took the bowl from Branwen. It was filled with bloody water and would be the fourth one she’d replaced in the last thirty minutes. She walked out into the hall, relieved to see a servant rushing toward her with fresh water and clean cloth.
She started to exchange the bowls with the servant when her mother walked up. “Peg, take that in to Lord Ragnar.” She opened the door and let the servant go in, then took the bowl Izzy still held. She placed it on the floor to one side of the door and took Izzy’s hand.
“Come on.” Izzy let her mother drag her to a room a few doors away. It was one of the guest rooms, reserved for nobles and kin.
Talaith closed the door and faced her. Izzy had prepared herself for this. She knew her mum would take Éibhear’s side on this. She knew she’d be appalled that Izzy hadn’t been keeping her virginity intact for the “right male,” as she’d told Izzy to do a short time before she’d gone off with the troops. Yet it didn’t matter. Izzy had made her choice quite a few months back, and now she’d stand tall and would not feel ashamed about what she did or what just happened. She wouldn’t. No matter how pissed off her mother might be.
“Are you all right?” her mother asked.
Izzy jerked a little in surprise at the question but caught herself in time. She went for casual disdain, as she liked to call it. “It wasn’t me that got hit, was it?”
Her mother stepped closer, and Izzy waited for it. The accusations, the recriminations. She waited for all of it.
“I’m not asking about anyone but you, Iseabail.” Talaith reached up and pressed the palm of her hand against Izzy’s cheek. “Are
you
all right?”
Izzy blinked several times, trying to hold back the tears she suddenly felt burning behind her eyes. Tears that at one time she could show no one else but her mother. She’d thought that closeness was gone, thought she was too old for all that “boo-hooing” as Ghleanna called it. But with her mother not judging her, just worried about her, and the pair alone in this boring room, she couldn’t hold those tears back.
“How could he do that, Mum?” she sobbed out. “In front of everybody? Gods.” She covered her face with her hands. “Even Dad.”
Her mother pulled Izzy into her arms, bringing them both down to their knees so Izzy didn’t have to bend over to have her good sob, and Talaith didn’t have to spend all her time on her toes.
“And what he said to me!”
“I know, luv. I know. That was hurtful and mean.” Talaith rubbed Izzy’s back and let her cry. “And I don’t care how angry he was, just a gods-damn shitty thing to do.”
Knowing her mother understood, and knowing she took her side made all the difference to Izzy. She clung to her mother, her hands gripping the back of her shirt as she cried on her shoulder. She had no idea how long she was going for, but it lasted a good bit. Yet her mum never once complained.
When Izzy finally cried herself out, they sat on the floor, Talaith holding her hands tight in her own.
“Don’t be disappointed in me, Mum.”
“Why would I be?”
“For, ya know”—she turned her face into her shoulder and wiped her remaining tears since her mum held her hands—“not waiting.”
“Not waiting for what?” When Izzy only gazed at her, “Oh…oh! Right. Waiting. Well, I didn’t exactly wait either, did I? And Celyn is very handsome. Just like your father was when we…” Talaith’s remark faded out, and her eyes grew wide. Immediately Izzy knew what had her mother worried.
“Don’t worry, Mum. I…I take precautions.” Her mother’s wide eyes narrowed, and Izzy insisted, “I do. Honestly.” Although, except for the twins and Rhi, there’d been no other word yet about other dragon-human babes, Izzy had no desire to risk that what had happened to Annwyl and her mum. To Izzy that was simply too great a chance to take. “You know how much this all means to me, and I’m not at the point where I can do both. A child and making morning formation with my unit.”
“But you will be there. One day.”
“That’s my plan. Then I can decide about having little Izzys running around.”
Talaith smiled. “As long as you have a plan.”
“I always have a plan.”
“Good.” Her mother squeezed her hands. “And do you love him, Izzy?”
Outraged she’d even ask, Izzy instantly replied, “After what he did to Celyn? Not anymore!”
Talaith cleared her throat, glanced around the room, cleared her throat again, and finally admitted, “I, uh…meant Celyn.”
“Oh.” Mother and daughter stared at each other a long moment before Izzy admitted, “This is awkward.”