She gasped and rushed to his side. “Oh, Éibhear! What did they do to you?”
“Us?” Briec demanded, trying to pick himself up off the floor—and failing. “
You’re blaming
us
for this?
”
“Quiet, lizard!” She studied the wound on Éibhear’s head. “You poor thing. I can’t believe your brothers did this to you.”
“I’m all right, Talaith,” he said . . . weakly. “Really.”
“Let’s get you out of here.” She took his arm and he let her help him off the floor. With one hand on his forearm, the other on his back, Talaith led Éibhear through the door. Although he did manage to look back at Fearghus and Briec—not Gwenvael, since he was still out cold—and smile.
And that ball of fire that slammed into the wall right outside the door but missed him and Talaith? That only managed to make him smile more.
Izzy decided more walking was in order for her sister because exercise always calmed Izzy when she was upset. But she’d forgotten that her sister . . . not much for exercising. Less than five miles in, she was already whining.
Stopping to face her, Izzy asked, “Are you panting?”
“Think we can slow down a bit?” Rhi asked, her hand pressed to her chest. “Maybe you can carry me?”
“Aren’t you a little young to be so . . . weak?”
“Could you say that with any more distaste?”
“Aye. I could.”
Izzy heard footsteps approaching—many footsteps—and she pulled her sword, motioning Rhi to get behind a large boulder. And, as she’d been trained, Rhi followed orders without complaint.
Soldiers wearing the armor of the Elite Guard came through the trees. They were younger men, and their unadorned shields told Izzy they were still in training. In other words, they hadn’t yet left Garbhán Isle to be royal escorts.
She also doubted they had any idea who she was because she didn’t recognize them at all.
Plus, she didn’t have on her military armor, nor her bright red surcoat with the Queen’s crest of two dragons. Instead, Izzy only wore chain mail, worn leather boots, a dark brown cape, and every weapon she could fit on her body.
It was the weapons that probably worried the young soldiers. The one at the head of the small group called out a warning and the soldiers dropped their shields so they created a sort of wall.
“Speak!” one of them demanded. “State your purpose!”
Izzy?
she heard her sister whisper in her head, as if these human males could hear her as well. They couldn’t and Izzy shouldn’t be able to either, but Rhi had been talking to her this way for years, sometimes over a thousand leagues away. It was something that took Izzy a while to get used to.
It’s all right
, she assured her sister.
Stay where you are.
Izzy took several steps toward the soldiers and they immediately pulled their weapons, their bodies tensing behind their tall shields.
Gripping her sword in both hands, Izzy pulled it back and readied for her attack, the soldiers following suit.
“Hold!” a voice ordered and the soldiers were pushed aside as a warrior walked past.
The red-headed soldier urgently said, “My lady—”
“
Stop
calling me that,” the Queen of Garbhán Isle ordered her men.
“Sorry, my . . . uh . . . Annwyl.”
Annwyl the Bloody crossed her arms over her chest and gazed at Izzy. “You dare come to my lands and challenge my guard?”
“They look like they need a challenge. You’d be better off with a loyal squire. Someone young, perky, and good with your horse.”
“Perky?” Annwyl laughed. “You were never perky, you lying harlot!”
Izzy shrugged. “It depends on your definition of perky.”
“My definition is
not Izzy.
” Grinning, Annwyl walked toward her, arms thrown open. Izzy slid her sword back into her holster and threw herself at Annwyl, the pair hugging and laughing.
“I’m so glad you’re home,” Annwyl said. “It’s been ages.”
“Ten moons is hardly ages.”
“It is to me.” Annwyl stepped back, looked her over. “A new scar. From a battle axe?”
“Angry raccoon in my tent.”
Laughing again, Annwyl gripped Izzy’s forearm and Izzy turned her hand to grip Annwyl’s. And, as Izzy often did, she used her thumb to trace the outline of the mark burned into Annwyl’s flesh. A brand placed there by Annwyl’s mate, Fearghus. The dragon’s way of Claiming his partner for life. Annwyl wore her brands on both forearms—and, Izzy had found out while she was Annwyl’s squire, on her inside thighs—Talaith wore hers on her lower back, and Dagmar’s was right on her ass. Something the family still teased her about. Yet of all the brands Izzy had seen on her mated kin over the years, it was her grandmother’s that Izzy secretly envied. Rhiannon’s went from the base of her foot to just below her chin, winding around her entire body as a small dragon would. And when Izzy was younger, dreaming of the day some dragon worthy of her would Claim her as his own, she’d planned on a similar mark.
“Gods, I missed you, Iz.”
“And you.”
Annwyl turned to her guards. “You lot, this is Izzy. But you can call her General Iseabail of the Eighth, Fourteenth, and Twenty-sixth Legions.”
Color drained from the soldiers’ faces, their eyes growing wide.
“General, sir!” said the one who’d been speaking from the beginning. “We apologize, sir. We didn’t know—”
Izzy waved all that away. “I didn’t announce myself and I’m not wearing our colors, so I’d expect you to err on the side of caution when it comes to protecting our queen.”
“Thank you, General.”
Annwyl hugged Izzy again, then asked, “Why are you here?”
Izzy pulled back, gazed at her queen. “I was told I was requested.”
“Requested? By me?”
She shrugged. “I really didn’t know, but I knew it wasn’t Mum because she usually contacts me herself if she needs me to come home.” As a practicing witch, her mother was able to talk to Izzy directly using only her mind, just like Rhi could, the distance between them meaning nothing. But, and Izzy appreciated this, her mother didn’t contact her that way often. Instead she wrote to Izzy regularly to fill her in on the day-to-day events of life at court and saved contacting her through her mind for emergencies and such.
“Well, I didn’t send for you. I wanted you to concentrate on those ogres.”
“It’s been handled. Their leader is dead. I left my next in command to round up and execute any stragglers.”
“Good. But that’s honestly all I’ve needed from you the last few months, Iz.”
“I didn’t send for you either, Izzy,” another voice called out.
The queen blinked, her gaze still locked with Izzy’s. “Why is your sister hiding behind that boulder?”
“At first it was for safety. But now I can only imagine she’s hiding out of fear of telling you the truth.”
“The truth?” Annwyl sighed, her eyes briefly closing. “What did the twins do now?”
“Nothing!” Rhi rushed around the boulder, her hands twisting together in front of her. “It was my fault. I promise.”
“It’s never your fault,” Annwyl said.
“But it was this time. I . . . I overreacted.”
“Which meant The Girl was doing something.”
Rhi stomped her tiny foot. “You always accuse her! And it wasn’t her fault!”
“You do always accuse Talwyn,” Izzy reminded Annwyl, making sure not to laugh when her queen rolled green eyes skyward.
“Fine,” Annwyl said with a very heavy sigh. “It wasn’t The Girl’s fault. You just overreacted to . . . nothing?”
“It doesn’t matter. I overreacted. Badly. I think I hurt her.”
“Hurt her how?”
Rhi used the tips of her fingers to comb loose silver curls behind her ears. “I used Magicks to . . . to . . . throw her and Talan. He hit the Great Hall wall, but Talwyn went out the door and into the buildings across from the courtyard.”
“I see.” Annwyl stared down at her niece, her face very stern. “And tell me true, Princess Rhianwen . . . did my daughter’s hard head damage my wall?”
Izzy snorted and quickly looked off. Rhi, however, was typically appalled. “Aunt Annwyl!”
“What? It’s a valid question. You know that girl’s head is as hard as her father’s. Do I need to call in the stone masons again?”
“I don’t understand this family!” Rhi charged before she stalked off. Poor thing . . . she stalked off often around her kin.
“Nicely handled, my liege.”
“I still say it was a valid question. Stone masons cost money, you know.”
Talaith was gently wiping blood from Éibhear’s head when Rhi stormed into the Great Hall.
Talaith turned, watching her daughter head up the stairs.
“What’s wrong?”
“This family is ridiculous!”
Shaking her head, Talaith went back to her task, muttering low, “I’ve been warning her of that fact since birth. Yet she always seems so bloody shocked.”
“I can hear you!” Rhi yelled from the stairs, startling them both.
“She flounces quite well,” Éibhear noted when his niece disappeared in a flurry of pretty pink satin and silk.
“Your brother always tells me I taught her how to flounce, but I’ve caught Keita giving her lessons several times.”
“It’s definitely a Keita flounce, with a bit of me mum thrown in.”
Talaith chuckled and dunked the cloth she held in a bowl of water, squeezing the material to get out the excess liquid. While his brother’s mate had her head down, Éibhear watched Izzy walk into the Great Hall with Annwyl. Izzy saw him before Annwyl, her eyes growing wide at the sight of him, then narrowing suspiciously. He grinned and her eyes narrowed more. But when Annwyl turned toward him, he quickly changed the grin into a wince and placed his hand to his head.
“Éibhear? Is that you?” Annwyl rushed to Talaith’s side. “Gods! What happened to you?”
“Those idiot brothers of his,” Talaith complained. She again pressed the cloth to his head.
“What is wrong with them?” Annwyl petted his cheek. “You poor, poor thing.”
Behind the women, Izzy’s mouth dropped open and she gawked at him.
“It’s all right,” Éibhear said, lowering his eyes to look more sincere and to give himself a moment to get control in the face of Izzy’s outraged expression. “I’m sure they didn’t mean it.”
“They just don’t deserve you as a brother,” Talaith nearly snarled.
“I’ll go talk to them,” Annwyl said. But she cracked her knuckles. “Right now.”
Izzy cut in front of Annwyl, forced a smile. “Why don’t
I
talk to them? Daddy listens to me.”
“You want my sword?”
Izzy blinked. Hard. “No. I don’t think that’s necessary. To talk to my father and uncles that I adore.”
“You want me warhammer then?”
Deciding not to answer Annwyl, Izzy turned and faced her mother. “Hi, Mum.”
Talaith went up on her toes and hugged Izzy tight. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
“Did you send for me?” she asked.
“No.” Talaith stepped back. “I didn’t. Why?”
“Ragnar said she was wanted home,” Éibhear explained.
“That didn’t come from me.”
“Dad?”
“You’ll have to ask him. I’m not talking to him right now.”
Izzy cringed. “Again?”
Lips pursed, Talaith turned from her daughter. “He’s in the war room.”
Izzy headed off, but as the other women focused back on Éibhear, Izzy turned on her heel and shook her head at him in disgust. Too bad for her that only made him laugh a little.
After getting Gwenvael off the floor and fetching cold cloths for her father and uncles’ heads, Izzy asked, “So Mum has been right all this time.... You
do
continue to fight with him.”
“He started it,” they stated in unison and Izzy rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers.
“That’s pathetic. You’re his wiser and older brothers . . . and Gwenvael.”
Gwenvael smiled. “I missed you, too, Iseabail.”
She kissed the dragon’s golden head. “And I you. But I still don’t know why I’m here.”
The three dragons looked at each other and back at her, then shrugged.
“Why are you here?” her father asked.
“Didn’t you send for me?”
“No.”
Fearghus cracked his neck. “Last we heard, you were killing ogres. Why would we stop you from doing that? We know how you enjoy it so.”
“Ragnar said I’d been sent for. At least that’s what he told Éibhear.” She briefly studied the males. “And why were you fighting with Éibhear?”