About a Dragon

by G. A. Aiken

  Talaith nodded. “I understand.”

  “Good.” Morfyd stood. “Now I have to go find leggings.” She winced. “Och. That sounds so unattractive.”

  “You didn’t tell her.” Talaith stood and tilted her head back to look Morfyd in the eye. “About—”

  “Your dragon?” That should sound stranger than it did. But it felt right to Talaith, which concerned her even more. “Are you ashamed?”

  Talaith thought on that for a moment, but only a moment. “No. I feel no shame. And I won’t start now.”

  “As you like.” Morfyd smirked. “And no. I won’t tell Annwyl about your dragon.”

  “I see she wears their image all over her armor and branded on her arms. Has she actually killed one in battle?”

  The witch began coughing and Talaith felt sure she only did it to cover up her laughter.

  After clearing her throat, she said, “You might say she’s faced down one or two during her reign. One of them, she ripped his heart right out of his chest.”

  Talaith winced. Lovely, Talaith. A dragonslayer. Perhaps next you could align yourself with a witchhunter. “Should I be concerned if she finds out?” She at least wanted to find and save her daughter first before the queen turned on her.

  The witch smiled and Talaith felt no comfort from it.

  “Concern yourself with your daughter for now Talaith, Daughter of Haldane. The rest will work itself out…in time.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Wake up, Briec.”

  Throwing one arm over his head to block out the glare of light, Briec ignored the voice calling him to get up. He didn’t want to get up. In fact, the way he felt at the moment, he planned to never get up ever again.

  “Briec. Up. Now!”

  Groaning, his head moments from splitting completely in half, Briec forced his eyes open and stared into the beautiful face of his baby sister.

  “Keita?”

  She smiled. “I was starting to worry you’d never wake.”

  “I don’t want to be awake. So why are you waking me?”

  “Fearghus sent me for you. He needs you and Gwenvael and Éibhear to do something for him.”

  Briec rolled over, resting his dragon head on his scaled forearms. “I’m not his errand boy. Nor am I the errand boy to his bitch.”

  His sister, still in human form, crouched beside him. He knew why Fearghus sent her instead of coming himself—Briec had a harder time saying “no” to his little Keita. Especially when she said, “What’s wrong, brother? You’re never this surly to me.”

  He sighed. A big, long sigh. “She left me, sister.”

  “The female you had here? Why? Was she unhappy?”

  “I didn’t think so. But I guess she was.” Briec sat up a bit, his claw to his chest. “What is this unbearable feeling in my chest? It’s driving me mad!”

  Fighting her smile, his sister reached over and ran her hand through his hair. “That, my sweet brother, is called heartbreak.”

  He glanced down at his chest. “Will that be a physical deformity?”

  Now his baby sister punched his shoulder. “Briec, you fool. I mean she broke your heart. You cared for her.”

  “A human? Broke my heart?”

  “Deny it if you want, but I can see it in your eyes.”

  Briec pushed himself up. Even still sitting he towered over his sister’s human form. “Good gods, the witch has hexed me!”

  “No, brother. You simply fell in love with her.”

  He glared down at her. “Now you’re just pissing me off.”

  Sighing deeply, she said, “As you wish, brother. I’m in no mood to fight you.” She stood in front of him. “Now, Fearghus needs you.”

  “To run errands.”

  “No. He found one of Lord Hamish’s spies at Garbhán Isle. He was planning to kill Annwyl upon her return.”

  For a moment, he did not forget Talaith, but he pushed thoughts of her back for something a bit more urgent.

  “When is her return?”

  “She actually should have been there by now, but a messenger came and told Fearghus she and her guard were delayed. Although her army finally made it back about three days ago.”

  “The spy?”

  “Fearghus killed him…when he was done.”

  “And we know it’s Lord Hamish?”

  “Aye. He’s always hated her, but no one ever thought he’d be stupid enough to go this far.”

  “So what does Fearghus need of me?”

  “He wants you three to go into Lord Hamish’s lands. Find out anything you can. Especially if his troops are moving out.”

  Briec nodded. “Aye. I’ll go.” Annwyl was hardly his favorite human, but once she’d mated with Fearghus, she became kin. Which meant, if one chose to be her enemy, they brought the wrath of the House of Gwalchmai fab Gwyar down on their head. “But I’ve already been there. I found nothing.”

  Nothing but the woman who made him insane with lust.

  “Look deeper. That’s why Fearghus wants Gwenvael to go with you. If there’s one thing our brother does well, it’s get information.”

  “True. I’ll see what we can find out.”

  “Good.” She pointed to her passed out brothers lying across his cave floor. “Now help me wake these two idiots.”

  “Perhaps you can poison him. Something that will make his eyes pop out and his tongue grow too large for his mouth.”

  Talaith again looked at Morfyd. She’d been doing that the last two hours they’d been riding toward Madron. Annwyl would say something particularly odd, and Talaith would look to see if Morfyd found it odd as well. Clearly the witch did, but it seemed she’d gotten used to it.

  For once, Talaith found someone who made her speechless.

  “I can poison him, if you wish. I’ve been trained to handle all sorts of poisons.”

  “I want to see him suffer before he dies.”

  “Annwyl,” Morfyd sighed out. “Seeing him die rather defeats the purpose of getting in, taking the girl, and getting out. I think our goal should simply be that we are not seen. Not how much more violent we can make the man’s death.”

  “Morfyd’s right. Hamish has been shoring up his army for quite awhile now. With only three of us, we should err on the side of stealth.”

  “Shoring up his army? For how long?”

  Talaith reached back in her memory to when she began seeing more and more young recruits traipsing through the village on their way to Hamish’s castle. “Two years. Maybe a little more.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Well, what did you expect him to do, Annwyl?” Morfyd asked. “Wait for you to come and kill him? He knows you hate him.”

  “I know. I’m just tired of waiting. I still say we should strike now.”

  “You need more reason than theory.”

  Annwyl rolled her eyes. “You and your bloody logic.”

  “It’s why you have me around. That and no one else will put up with you.”

  Pulling tight on her reins, Annwyl suddenly dragged her horse to a stop. She cocked her head to the side. “Do you hear it?”

  Morfyd, briefly silent, nodded. “Aye. I do.”

  “Where?”

  “Annwyl, maybe we should—”

  “Where?”

  With a sigh, “There.” Morfyd pointed into the trees. “I think there’s a clearing on the other side.”

  Annwyl turned her horse toward the forest and charged in.

  “Damn her!”

  “What is it?”

  “A battle.”

  Talaith blinked in surprise. “And she’s just going to—”

  “Now you know my daily nightmare.”

  “Well we can’t let her fight alone.”

  “Not you too,” Morfyd groaned.

  Talaith snorted. “If she’d asked, I would have suggested we ride on by. But since she’s already galloped in head first…”

  “Aye.” Morfyd nodded. “You’re right.”

 
The two women turned their horses and followed the Blood Queen into battle.

  “Stay!” Achaius pushed her back, forcing her behind a tree. It wouldn’t do much good. They were horribly outnumbered by the men who attacked their small party. Only her and the three men who gave up their homes and army life to protect her. It wasn’t the first time her Protectors had battled others in order to keep her safe. But this was the first time they’d come face to face with those they’d once called comrades.

  Crouching low, she looked out over the field of battle and winced as her Protectors barely blocked blows aimed for their head or hearts. But as she began to fear all was lost and her friends doomed to a bloody death, she saw her.

  A beautiful and scarred warrior woman rode on an enormous black stallion, two swords strapped to her back. She stopped at the edge of the clearing and stared out over the battle. She didn’t move until she saw the crest on the enemy soldiers’ surcoats. Then with a blood-chilling scowl, she tied the reins to her saddle, ripped the two swords out of their scabbards and kicked her horse into a fierce gallop. As she rode, she steered only with her knees and took heads as she went. One after another after another after another.

  While her Protectors stayed out of the warrior woman’s way, the soldiers screamed warnings at each other and that’s when they focused their attack directly on the warrior woman. Foolish move. She wasn’t alone. Two other women rode to the edge of the clearing. Unlike the first, these two wore capes, their faces and bodies hidden. The taller one stayed on her mare. A witch, that one, as she raised her hands and white-hot flames flew from her palms. The men charging the witch turned into a writhing ball of fire.

  The other, smaller one, slipped off her horse and silently moved up behind one of the soldiers. One hand under his chin, his head lifted, a blade across his throat. She went from soldier to soldier doing that until seven of them lay at her feet. By then, the others had noticed her too, so she crouched low as two soldiers charged her. One she sliced his inner thighs open. He screamed hysterically as blood flowed. With the other, the small woman removed another blade from the belt around her hips and threw it, lancing his eye like an egg. He dropped his weapon and screamed while covering his face. She cut his throat as she passed him.

  So fascinated by the three women fighting on their side, clearly sent by her god, she didn’t realize anyone was behind her until the smaller female yelled, “Down!”

  She dropped to her knees, her arms covering her head. She heard the soldier above her garble a parody of a pain-filled scream, then fall next to her. Slowly, she looked over. A dagger with a plain, leather-wrapped hilt stuck from his mouth.

  “Stay in that position and I’m sure those soldiers will find many uses for your ass.”

  A brown hand appeared before her, the fingers slender and delicate. A few calluses from hard work. She recognized those hands. She’d seen them in visions.

  “You going to stare at it or are you going to take my hand?”

  Shaking, she removed her glove and put her hand in the woman’s outstretched palm. Her fingers were longer than the woman’s, her hand stronger. She had her father’s hands and his eyes. She got her mother’s face and, supposedly, her acid tongue.

  Taking a deep breath, she gripped the woman’s smaller hand and let her see everything.

  Talaith impatiently waited for the girl—at least, she guessed she was a girl, hard to tell under that cape—to take her hand. Annwyl and Morfyd seemed to have the rest of the battle under control, killing off Hamish’s remaining men. They must have still been looking for her and these poor wretched men and this girl got in the middle of it.

  As soon as Talaith and Morfyd rode up, they knew why Annwyl hadn’t waited for them, but eagerly threw herself into the fray. Annwyl recognized the Madron crest.

  “You going to stare at it or you going to take my hand?” she half teased, half demanded.

  After a few more intolerable seconds, the girl took off her leather glove and reached for Talaith’s hand. Fascinated, Talaith stared at the brown hand slipping into hers. Someone from Alsandair this far north? But before she could say anything, the girl gripped her tight and images flooded through Talaith.

  She could see her own face screaming and crying while being held back by Arzhela’s priestesses as she reached out in desperation; she saw the gold gates of the Madron castle; the kind face and warm feelings of a maid caring for a child not her own. The images sped up and things quickly turned dark as a large man, a soldier or guard, pulled his hand back to slap, but other soldiers intervened. A fight ensued, lives lost. Then the men—the Protectors—were traveling, from town to town, village to village, city to city. Never staying in one place longer than necessary. Resting briefly. Feeling safe with these men but lost. Protected but lonely.

  Instinctually, Talaith snatched her hand back, dropping hard on her ass. Through wide eyes, she watched the girl pull her hood off her face and those eyes…the eyes of Talaith’s first love and lover looked at her.

  “He promised you’d find me,” the girl whispered. And Talaith saw all her hopes of the last sixteen years reflected back to her from that face. “He promised you’d never stop until you had me back.”

  With that, the girl threw herself at Talaith, wrapping her long, strong, warm arms around her.

  At first, Talaith had no idea what to do. Not merely because her mother had never been affectionate, nor any of the Nolwenn witches who helped raise her, but because this wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Not in a million lifetimes.

  “I’d really like it if you hugged me back.”

  It was such an innocent statement. And an honest one. Tears welling in Talaith’s eyes, she wrapped her arms around her daughter and hugged her so tight she feared she may break her in half. But the girl didn’t complain. She said nothing, actually, but the tears falling against Talaith’s neck told her all she needed to know.

  The brothers landed outside of Madron, their baby sister right behind them. She’d already arranged to have clothes and supplies awaiting them. They would travel into Madron human, hiding who they really were until necessary.

  “Are you coming with us?”

  Since she had yet to shift, Briec somehow doubted it. “No.” Her lip turned into a nasty snarl, which meant only one thing. “Her Majesty has summoned me.” Ah, yes. Only the Dragon Queen could annoy Keita this much. Mother and daughter did not get along like father and daughter.

  Briec, still recovering from his nights of excessive drinking, tried to figure out how to put the blue surcoat on over his chainmail shirt and leggings. “What happened to those knights you were with?”

  Keita burped and all the brothers quickly turned to her in surprise.

  “Oh, Keita…you didn’t.” Briec charged.

  “You know the rules, Keita. You either eat them or fuck them…you don’t do both,” Éibhear added.

  “Not unless you do it right.”

  Keita and Gwenvael laughed but when Briec and Éibhear merely stared at them, they stopped.

  Keita shook her head. “Of course I didn’t eat them. I sent them on their way. Sadder but satisfied.”

  “I don’t need to hear this about my baby sister,” Briec muttered.

  Even as dragon, he could see his sister giving him her adorable little pout. “You’re still sad.”

  “He’s miserable,” Gwenvael offered as he struggled into his chainmail shirt. “He’s starting to remind me of Fearghus before Annwyl.”

  “None of us are having this conversation.” Briec wrapped a cape around his clothes, pulling the hood over his head to hide his silver hair. “She left me. It’s over.”

  Because it was over. Even if he wanted to find her, he had no idea where to start. But he didn’t want to find her. She’d left him. Without a word. Without a thought. She’d left him and now he had feelings.

  For that alone, he’d never forgive her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Talaith opened her mouth again to answer he
r daughter’s question, and again the girl cut her off.

  “Because as I see it, the gods brought us together. I knew you’d find me. I always knew. I never knew you’d be so pretty, though. I wish I was as pretty as you. But, I’m not. I’ve had to face that fact and move on with my life. It hasn’t been easy. Of course, nothing the past nine years has been easy, but it has been interesting. We’ve been everywhere, we have. The mountains of Brandgaine and the mines of Maledisant. You see, we’ve always kept moving. Always on the go. Never stopping except for a few weeks at a time. Except for my Protectors, I’ve had no friends. Although I think I see them more as uncles as opposed to friends. I think I need friends. Now that we’ve found each other perhaps I can actually have friends.”

  Talaith became tired just listening to the girl. All these years, they’d accused Talaith of being too talkative, too chatty. But this…this was amazing.

  From what she’d been able to glean, her daughter’s name was Iseabail. And she intended to keep it and she hoped that was all right. True, Talaith didn’t give her that name but she was used to it now and didn’t want to give it up. Her Protectors—and that’s exactly what she called them—referred to her as Izzy the Dangerous. Apparently while growing into her tall body, she had a tendency to be awkward and clumsy. And there was an incident with a horse she suddenly refused to finish telling.

  Talaith still didn’t know how these men came to protect her daughter because Izzy hadn’t taken a breath long enough to allow Talaith to ask. Glancing at Morfyd and Annwyl, who led them back to Annwyl’s elite guard, she could see them looking back at her and laughing hysterically. Evil cows.

  “How did you learn to fight like that, anyway?”

  “Well—”

  “You see, I want to learn to fight like that. Achaius has taught me a bit, haven’t you, Achaius, but mostly they tell me to run and hide when danger is near. But I’m sixteen winters now and running and hiding seems awfully unseemly, don’t you think?”

  “Um—”

  “It was like I told Achaius, he can’t protect me forever. Didn’t I say that Achaius? And what happens if, the gods forbid, he and the others get too hurt to protect me? Then what will I do?”