About a Dragon

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About a Dragon Page 17

by G. A. Aiken


  Morfyd stormed from the queen’s tent, but she stopped when a book—thankfully soft of cover—hit her in the back of the head. Swinging around, the dragon in human form yelled, “You are the most insufferable, difficult bitch I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing and I can’t wait to be rid of you!”

  Danelin glanced up at his commander and Brastias sighed. With a shake of his head, he stepped in front of Morfyd before she could stomp away. “What is going on with you two?”

  Morfyd looked at Brastias, then at the men watching her. After taking a deep, calming breath she shrugged. “Nothing. Why?”

  Briec, smiling while still half asleep, reached for Talaith. His hand grasped nothing but bedding and he pulled himself fully awake.

  “Talaith?”

  He’d been hoping to find her still lying next to him. He had plans for her this morning, and they all involved her legs resting on his shoulders. So finding her already up and about did nothing but irritate him. Plus, he still had many questions to ask the wench. Her sudden mood swings the previous night did nothing but confuse him, and he realized he didn’t enjoy that confusion one damn bit.

  Briec looked around the chamber and frowned when he didn’t find her in one of the chairs reading as he usually did. He sat up, pushing his hair off his face. “Talaith?”

  He slid out of bed and left the chamber, heading toward the main area where they ate. She wasn’t there and no fire burned in the pitfire since the previous eve.

  Sniffing the air, Briec tried to track her somewhere in his home, but there was nothing but her lingering essence.

  “No!”

  Briec shifted to dragon with a thought and stormed through his cave looking for her, barking her name.

  “Talaith, answer me!”

  She didn’t and he knew. He knew she’d left him. And another, less used emotion reared its very ugly head…rage.

  Briec made it topside, bursting from his cave entrance with a trail of fire in his wake. He tore through the countryside searching for her. She couldn’t have gotten far. He’d find her and bring her back. Even if she kicked and screamed the entire way, he’d bring her back.

  He’d bring her home.

  Talaith watched the dragon fly overhead. He didn’t see her. He wouldn’t. True to her word, Arzhela had given her back her powers with a vengeance. Talaith almost woke Briec up as she stumbled from her early-morning bed, her entire body screaming in pain as the Magick was unleashed within her.

  Now she used that same Magick to block her presence from the dragon’s keen senses, something she hadn’t been able to do before. Hearing him call her name, knowing he at least cared enough to search for her, almost sent her back to him.

  But her daughter—the most important thing right now.

  Besides, why bother going back to him even if she did survive this? If he wasn’t tired of her now, he would be one day.

  Closing her eyes, and heart, to the sight of him, Talaith turned and headed in the direction of the two suns. Headed toward her destiny and, most likely, her death.

  Chapter Fifteen

  They’d tracked her for hours, thinking they were being stealthy. Not really. About an hour after they started, she led them where she wanted them to go while watching from a safe distance. She’d take them to a lake she knew of in these parts—her teachers made her learn every map available—and destroy them there. She had no time for games at this point. Besides, after leaving Briec, she had a great desire to hurt something deserving to be hurt.

  Perched safely in a tree, Talaith stared down at the lake and cursed. There were two women, alone, naked, and bathing in the lake. She needed them to run. Now.

  Using the sturdy branches of the old tree, she quickly climbed down, jumping the last few feet to the ground.

  Immediately, the two women turned toward her. They looked so different from each other. One had golden brown hair, green eyes, and a very recent knife slash across her face. The other had white hair, blue eyes shaped like a cat’s, and the mark of a witch on one cheek. The witch blocked her, so Talaith had no idea how powerful her Magick. And she had no time to figure it out.

  “You must leave. Now.”

  They didn’t. Instead they stared at her. Not in fear or confusion, but in curiosity.

  “Did you not hear me?”

  “We heard you,” the brown-haired one said before dropping her head back into the water.

  And that was all either one of them said.

  “Unbelievable,” Talaith muttered. “Now I have to protect their stupid hides as well as my own.” And she was stupid. She could run, in theory. The men would find enough sport with these two so chances were high they wouldn’t bother coming for her. But she couldn’t do that to any woman.

  She heard the men stomping through the trees toward them. She knew a fire spell that should handle them pretty well. And possibly destroy the entire forest. Oh, well. Can’t be helped.

  The men stepped past the line of the trees, but looked past her. Quickly glancing behind her, she realized that both women had gotten out of the lake. By the gods. Those bitches are huge!

  “Focus, Talaith,” she chastised herself.

  At least they’d thrown on some clothes. One had on her witch’s robes. The other simple leggings, cotton shirt and leather boots. They didn’t appear worried, though. They should. Unless the witch had great power. That would definitely help at the moment.

  “Well, well. Look what we have here, lads.”

  Talaith rolled her eyes. Why these idiots never came up with anything more original before the raping and pillaging, she’d never know.

  She counted. Fifteen men. Fifteen to their three. Eesh. She would have preferred better odds than that, but nothing she could do about it now.

  Her attention on the men in front of her and the chant on her lips, Talaith readied herself to destroy an entire forest—or start a small bonfire, she wasn’t quite sure which—when the brown-haired woman walked past her.

  “You know what I love, gentlemen?” the woman asked with a big smile. Good gods, why is she talking to them? Talaith glanced back at the witch, who gave a helpless shrug. As if this were an unruly puppy rather than a woman who would get them all raped and killed.

  “And what would that be, luv?” one of the men in front asked with a knowing smile.

  “When the gods throw sport my way.”

  She moved so fast, if Talaith blinked she would have missed it. Missed the woman ripping the man’s sword from his scabbard, expertly hefting the blade, and swinging.

  Talaith watched the man’s head roll away. It would have been comical if it weren’t a bit vile.

  Taking a step back, the woman watched the other men, her newly obtained sword raised.

  “Come on then, you lot,” she encouraged. “You’re not going to leave me standing here, are ya?” She looked over the men before her. “Which one of you is man enough to fight me?”

  Man enough? Try stupid enough.

  That’s when other men stepped from the trees. Based on their ages and a distinct lack of bitterness on their faces, Talaith knew these men were not with the ones who had been tracking her. They were with this woman. They wore dark red surcoats over chainmail shirts and leggings. The crests on their surcoats were of a black dragon with two swords crossed behind it.

  Well, there went Talaith’s brief theory the brown-haired woman was a poor, sole mercenary.

  One of the woman’s warriors, a tall handsome man who couldn’t seem to stop grinning, glanced at her. “Do we really have time for this?”

  “Don’t rush me, Brastias. You bastards want me relaxed. This will relax me.” She turned back to the confused men. “Well?” the woman challenged again. “Anyone?”

  The cornered men glanced around and realized the warriors with the dark red surcoats surrounded the entire lake—and them. They had no choice but to fight her.

  Two men charged her at the same time. She blocked both their blades with her own, kicked one, kno
cking him to the ground and gutted the other. She took his sword as her own and finished off the man still on the ground at her feet.

  That’s when the rest decided to attack the woman as one.

  Talaith looked to the warriors to see if they would help. They didn’t. Their swords remained sheathed, their sighs indicated boredom. The witch moved up to stand beside her. “This won’t take long.”

  She had a distinct feeling the witch was right.

  A grin spread across the warrior woman’s face as she blocked a blow with one sword while slashing at another attacker with the other. Blood flew, splattering across her shirt, but she didn’t even notice it, instead turning to another man and gutting him from stomach to throat. She took his head, turned, cut another man in half; crouched, slashed, took another man’s legs. She moved so fast, Talaith found it hard to follow her. But within seconds, she’d killed them all…except one.

  The warrior woman cracked her neck as her green eyes locked onto the last man. He raised his sword, but she knocked it out of his hand with one blow from her own. She kicked him in the chest, sending him crashing to his back.

  Then she placed one extremely large foot onto his chest and crouched down, pinning him to the ground with her weight.

  “So tell me, what were you planning to do with us? Eh? Going to make us scream? Beg for mercy?” She leaned in, forcing her foot into the man’s chest, her face filled with utter disgust and contempt. “Should I do that to you? Should I make you cry? Should I make you beg?”

  She took a deep breath, and Talaith could see how hard it was for this woman to keep her anger under control. A battle written all over her bruised and damaged face.

  “No. I’ll not waste my time on the likes of you,” she sneered. Slowly standing, she left her foot on his chest while tossing one of the swords she held into the lake. “A true and honorable warrior loses his head in battle and goes home to his ancestors with pride. But that won’t be for you. I curse you, scum. I curse you and your brethren to the never-ending pits of despair and suffering where you’ll spend your eternity.”

  Two hands clasping the hilt, she raised her sword above the man’s chest. “I do wish you luck, though,” she uttered, almost kindly. Then that rage returned, so fierce it nearly stole Talaith’s breath. “For you will surely need it.”

  With that, she brought the sword down, it seemed, with all the force she could possibly muster. The blade slammed through the man’s chest, tearing through cheap armor, and hard bone until it embedded itself in the rocky ground beneath. The man’s screams made Talaith wince, but she couldn’t look away, even as the woman twisted the blade this way and that to quicken his death.

  He made another gasp, blood pouring from his open mouth, then went silent.

  The woman stood, leaving the blade in his chest. She examined herself.

  “I swear. I clean off one coat of blood, only to have it replaced by another. I wonder why I bathe at all while on campaign.”

  “Because you don’t want to wake to find a pack of wolves licking blood off you…again,” the witch offered sweetly.

  Grimacing, “I thought we swore never to speak of that.”

  With a laugh, the witch replied, “I don’t remember that agreement at all.”

  “Callous cow.”

  And that’s when they all turned to Talaith.

  Uh-oh.

  How she could actually find this woman more frightening than the three dragons she’d stayed with for days, she’d never know. But now that her Magick was back, her sense of this woman’s barely contained rage was almost palpable. It slid under her skin like a living thing.

  “You all right?” It took Talaith a moment to realize the warrior woman had spoken to her.

  “Oh.” She cleared her throat. “Yes. Thank you.”

  The woman’s cold green eyes examined Talaith from feet to head as she held her hand out and one of the warriors handed her two swords in their scabbards. Walking calmly toward Talaith, she tied them to her back.

  “Thank you for warning us.”

  Never before had Talaith had such an overwhelming desire to run. This was not like the dragonfear. This was much worse. “You’re welcome.”

  Standing before her, the woman bent her neck to the side. Talaith winced as she heard every bone in the woman’s neck and shoulder crack into place. Ack!

  “Your name?”

  Answer her, you idiot. “Talaith.”

  The woman nodded. “I am Annwyl.”

  Without thinking, Talaith stumbled back from her. “The Blood Queen?”

  Blinking, the woman looked startled, then…well…then she looked hurt.

  “Oh, shit,” the witch mumbled beside her. Then she and the good-looking warrior passed annoyed glances.

  “Is that what they call me?” Annwyl threw her hands up. “That is so unfair!”

  The witch shook her head, “Annwyl…”

  “I work hard to protect the land—”

  “Annwyl.”

  “—to keep them all safe—”

  “Annwyl.”

  “—and this is how they repay me?”

  “Annwyl!”

  “What?”

  “Let it go. We need to get back. Or do you wish to keep your mate waiting any longer?”

  Good God. This big bitch has a mate? That had to be one brave man.

  Annwyl growled. Literally. Then turned on her heel. “Fine.” She looked over her shoulder at Talaith. “But don’t call me that again.”

  “Uh…” Talaith glanced around at the other warriors and realized they were working hard not to laugh. Some had to turn away. “Of course, my, uh, queen.”

  She saw the men wince as Annwyl stopped in her tracks. Without bothering to turn around, she barked, “Don’t call me that either.”

  “My liege?”

  “Not even close.”

  Talaith had grown tired of this big bitch barking at her like she were a small child and, as usual, Talaith’s mouth ran much faster than her sense. “Is there anything I should call you? Or should I just grunt and point in your direction?”

  When the men and witch all stared at her, she had a feeling she might have gone too far—again.

  Slowly, Annwyl turned back to her. Talaith had a feeling very few people said much to the Blood Queen of Garbhán Isle.

  But, instead of taking her head or cursing her to those nasty pits she seemed so fond of sending people to, the queen smiled. A really sweet smile, taking Talaith completely by surprise. “I think Annwyl will do, don’t you?”

  “Uh…” Talaith shrugged “Yes?”

  Her smile broadened. “Yes. And you best come with us.”

  “What? Why?” Well that was definitely not the right response, but Annwyl—nor Arzhela—appeared to notice.

  “Annwyl,” the witch murmured. “I’m sure that Talaith has somewhere else to—”

  “You think this was the only band of scavengers roaming these forests, sister?” Annwyl cut in quickly. “They’re one of many. You know that better than most.” To Talaith she said, “Come with us now. We’ll get you some food and some safety. You can decide what you want to do from there. All right?”

  She made it sound like a request, but Talaith knew better. Dread filled Talaith’s being. Most of the gods knew she shouldn’t go. But she had no choice.

  She had absolutely no choice.

  Briec stared out over his land. As human he sat at the very edge of the highest entrance to his cave. He knew eventually his brothers would arrive, and when they sat next to him, one on either side, he wasn’t surprised. And, he had to admit at least to himself, he was quite grateful.

  “What happened?” Éibhear asked.

  “What does it look like? She left me.”

  Gwenvael leaned over to stare down at the sheer drop to ground level. “Planning to throw yourself from here as human and end it all?”

  “Of course not.” He let out a deep sigh. “I just got home, truth be told. I’ve been looking for
her for days.”

  Éibhear raised one leg and rested his arm on it. “Why did she leave?”

  Briec’s head dropped forward in abject misery. “I don’t know.”

  He sensed more than saw Gwenvael lean down a bit to get a good look at his face. “Are you really that upset?”

  Bellowing in fury, he turned on his brother, “Do I look happy to you?”

  His brother held his hands up. “Calm down. I was just asking. I didn’t realize you’d become that attached.”

  “How could you not see that?” Éibhear asked. “Lofal the Blind One could have seen that.”

  “When has Briec ever cared about a female beyond the bedding?”

  “Talaith was different,” Briec seethed.

  “Ah, yes. The woman whose name you didn’t even care to know at first.”

  “Shut up, Gwenvael. Or you’ll quickly find out if your human body can fly.”

  “You sure you’re just not mad because she had the audacity to leave you—Briec the Mighty?”

  Normally Briec would shove his brother’s face into the dirt, but he didn’t even feel like doing that. For four days he searched everywhere he could think of for her and nothing. Not even a trace of her. Finally, he gave up and returned back to his lair, which suddenly seemed way too big and extremely lonely. He didn’t realize how much he’d come to enjoy her very presence. The scent of her. Her voice. Her extremely acid tongue. The way she kept tripping on his tail.

  But, he kept reminding himself, she left him. She left him when he hadn’t done anything wrong. And she’d actually seemed damn happy when with him. If she hadn’t been, she should have told him in that rude way she had.

  “Aren’t you going to hit him?” Éibhear asked.

  “I don’t feel like it.”

  “Good gods.” Gwenvael stood. “This is worse than we thought, Éibhear. Up, brother.” Gwenvael grabbed Briec’s arm and pulled him to his feet. “There is only one answer for this.”

  “Which is?”

  “Drinking and eating. The whoring will keep until we get you good and drunk. By the time we’re done, brother, you won’t even remember her name that you didn’t even care to know in the first place.”

 

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