by G. A. Aiken
“Ohhh, well aren’t you a strapping lad!” his mother exclaimed. She motioned Frederik closer. “I’m Queen Rhiannon, but you can call me Queen Rhiannon.”
Gazing at Rhiannon, his mouth slightly open, Frederik took the hand Rhiannon offered and bowed low from the waist. “My . . . my lady.”
Rhiannon’s smile was wide as she leaned in and said, “Aren’t you just adorable! I could just eat you right up!”
“Mum!”
“Well, I don’t mean literally!”
Izzy took the stew off the fire and placed it in the middle of the table, while Brannie put bowls and spoons out and Celyn poured the ale. It was an old routine that they’d started a few years back.
Hard to believe, though, considering all that had happened.
Although Izzy knew many didn’t believe her, she’d never planned for things to end up as they had among her, Éibhear, and Celyn. She’d been young and she’d been . . . curious. There had been a few among her fellow soldiers who’d offered to satisfy that curiosity for her. Some politely and some with an outright, “I’ll fuck ya proper,” which did nothing but cause Izzy to reach for the closest weapon or simply throw a punch. But it was Celyn who’d kept her interest merely by being sweet, funny, and confident. He didn’t offer anything because he didn’t need to. And, one night, alone in the woods, they took the next logical—at least to her—step.
But it had never occurred to Izzy that things would turn out so badly. Then again, she’d never thought Éibhear would find out. And if he did find out, she hadn’t thought he’d really ever care. And although the sixteen-year-old Izzy, who’d fallen hard for the dragon from the first time she’d seen him and his blue hair, had wanted to believe that he’d cared about her, that he’d been jealous, the more jaded, realistic nineteen-year-old she’d been at the time knew better. Knew it was more about ego and competing with his cousin than it was about Izzy.
Thankfully, though, that was a long time ago and much had changed. At least for Izzy it had.
“So have you seen my cousin?” Celyn asked, after he’d finished his stew, pushing his now empty bowl away and leaning back in his chair, long legs stretched out, hand around a cup of ale.
“He escorted us home.”
“And how did that go?”
Izzy tried to drag her fingers through the tangled, dirty mess of Macsen’s fur. It wasn’t that she didn’t groom him. She actually groomed him often, but by the time she was done combing through the back end, the front end was already a tangled, dirty mess again. But since the dog didn’t seem to mind . . .
“Why do you ask?”
“Because I’m pathetically curious.”
Izzy laughed. “At least you’re honest.”
“As one of the chosen Dragon Queen Personal Guard, I am bound in blood to be honest.” He glanced off and added, “Unless the queen tells me to lie . . . which she has.”
“Shocking,” Brannie muttered, reaching for the bottle of ale to refill her cup.
“Ahhh, the jealousy of a sibling. So bitter about my assignment, dear Brannie?”
“No. Just tired of hearing Mum go on and on about it.”
“Oh, little sister, you shouldn’t be so sensitive. You know Mum just loves me more than she loves you—ow! That’s my shin, human female!”
“I know!” Izzy snapped, sorry she’d gone barefoot for the evening because Celyn’s shins were like granite.
“You may not realize this, brother, but Izzy is loyal to me. So don’t make me unleash her on you.”
“And now you’re making fun of me,” Izzy complained.
“No. It’s a serious threat,” Celyn admitted. “Used by many in the family. Especially Briec. He loves threatening those who annoy him—”
“Which is everyone,” Brannie stated while grabbing the last loaf of bread and tearing it into three pieces.
“—with his beautiful eldest daughter who will rip the scales from your back and tear the still-beating heart from your chest before spitting on your corpse.”
Izzy put her hand to her chest, her voice trembling as she fought tears. “That is the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“He adores both his girls.”
“I needed to hear that.” She took the chunk of bread from Brannie. “I’ve been feeling a little . . . bad today.”
“Bad?” Celyn’s teasing expression changed to one of concern. “About what?”
“Éibhear told me that the family has been keeping him away because they didn’t want him around when I was. And Daddy and Fearghus say that’s mostly true. But they also said that Granddad forced Éibhear to join the Mì-runach and for the last ten years he’s been stuck in the Ice Lands. No one should be stuck in the Ice Lands. No one.”
Celyn and Brannie stared at her for a long moment, looked at each other, then back at her, both saying together, “No.”
“No? What do you mean no?”
“No one tells the Mì-runach anything,” Celyn explained. “Except for the queen. She tells them what she wants and the Mì-runach make it happen.”
“Make it happen? How?”
Celyn shrugged. “Any way they want to. The Mì-runach end up in the Mì-runach because they won’t follow orders. At least not any orders that come from anyone but the queen.”
“If they can’t follow orders then why—”
“No. I said they won’t follow orders, not that they can’t.”
“That’s even worse then.”
“As warriors, they’re often too good to not be used.”
“That was our grandfather,” Brannie added. “He was a mighty warrior but the worst among the rank and file. Before our grandmother—”
“He loved fucking and eating and drinking. And he loved a good battle. But he hated taking orders.”
“Hated generals and commanders.”
“Hated being up in the morning.”
“Especially after a good night of fucking and drinking.”
Izzy, laughing, asked, “So he joined the Mì-runach?”
“One doesn’t join the Mì-runach.”
“Not willingly,” Brannie noted.
“So they’re forced,” Izzy surmised, again feeling bad about Éibhear’s situation.
“More like given little option,” Celyn replied. “It’s usually a choice between the Mì-runach or the salt mines.”
“Many take the salt mines.”
“But if you survive the first two years of training . . . you become Mì-runach.”
“Survive the training?”
“Which is hard enough, but when you’re full Mì-runach, you still go into battle without armor—”
“—without colors.”
“—without anyone really leading.”
Shocked, hands pressed to her cheeks, Izzy asked, “Do they at least have weapons?”
“Sometimes, I guess.” Celyn shook his head. “I’ll be honest, Iz. It’s not something I’d do.”
“But . . .” And Izzy couldn’t help but cringe in disbelief. “Éibhear?”
“After what happened to Austell the Red . . .” The young Dragonwarrior recruit had been killed during the final battle of the war against the Iron dragons. It was something that Izzy had heard Éibhear had taken very badly, for some reason blaming himself, but no one would ever tell Izzy exactly why. After a while she’d stopped asking because she had the feeling she didn’t really want to know why Éibhear would blame himself.
“Well,” Celyn finally went on, “my cousin was never quite the same.”
“He was impossible to train. Refused to listen.”
“Fought everyone. Éibhear was just angry.”
“So Grandfather sent him to the Mì-runach?” Izzy said, motioning for the bottle of ale from Brannie.
“I wasn’t surprised that Uncle Bercelak would send him,” Celyn noted. “But I was surprised the queen let him go.”
“Because it was Éibhear?”
“Because no dragon prince has ever been in the Mì-runac
h in any of its forms.”
“Its forms?”
Brannie shrugged. “The Mì-runach have been around nearly as long as dragon armies have. But they didn’t have an official name until Grandfather Ailean joined. Before that they were just, ‘Those crazy bastards that’ll kill for a pint and a whore.’”
“Lovely.”
Celyn laughed. “They’re a bit more organized now, but they’re still those crazy bastards. And I have to say that from what I’ve heard, Éibhear fits in perfectly.”
“The rumor is that the entire Ice Land sighed in relief when Éibhear the Contemptible finally left their territories.”
Izzy, deciding she didn’t want to drink anymore, pushed her half-filled mug away. “So then you don’t think the Mì-runach were forced to keep him away—”
“The Mì-runach kept him in the Ice Lands because that’s where they were needed these last few years. And I’m sure with his reputation and his skills in battle, no one in the Mì-runach would have been fine with Éibhear just flittin’ off to a family feast or for your sister’s birthday celebrations.”
“When you’re Mì-runach, they are your family. Only your mate matters more.” Brannie thought a moment. “If any of them actually ever have one.”
“So, his brothers ordering the Mì-runach to keep him in the Ice Lands for the last ten years . . . ?”
“It never happened.”
Izzy dropped back into her chair. “Then why the hells would they let him believe that they did?”
Celyn reached over and patted her hand. “Because your father and uncles are cruel bastards, luv. How could you not have figured that out by now?”
Izzy snatched her hand back. “Oh, shut up.”
Queen Rhiannon sat down beside her youngest offspring on the hill that overlooked the castle of Garbhán Isle and the surrounding grounds. The last time she’d sat here with her son, he’d been making the very nasty transition from child to adult. Now, as she looked up at the profile of that face, she saw what that change had cost him. There were no longer any soft lines there. No longer any perfect, smooth human skin. Instead, his jaw was strong and she could see that it had been broken at least once. His cheekbones were now sharp, and he had scars on his neck and face, which meant steel blades had cut past hard scales to the flesh underneath.
When she’d sent tasks to the Mì-runach, she’d had to struggle not to think of her son possibly being part of the team they’d send in to accomplish them. The thought of him running, screaming, into enemy territory, wearing no armor, and destroying all in his way until he reached his goal was something that often kept her up at nights. Not only what might physically happen to him, but what could change him. What could turn him into a dragon she’d rather not speak to, or hear from, or ever admit was her offspring.
In other words, would being a Mì-runach make him into a bastard?
Of course it had been hard to tell at evening meal. What with her mate and elder male offspring picking on him so. Éibhear hadn’t said much. Just kept eating, until he’d finally gotten up and walked out. Then she’d been forced to hear all the arguing between her sons and their mates. Honestly, did that ever end? But at least those human females did what they could to protect Éibhear.
Rhiannon readied her speech. The speech she’d given more than once over the years to Éibhear and, when they were much younger, to her older sons. The one that included things like:
“I’m sure your father didn’t mean that.”
“Of course your father loves you.”
“No. He didn’t try to sell your egg to the highest human bidder.”
“And of course, he never tried to kill you while you slept!”
She readied that speech, but before she could recite it as she’d been doing for the last few centuries, her son said, “Izzy didn’t come to dinner.”
Rhiannon blinked, closed her mouth. “No. Morfyd said she was tired and wanted to sleep.”
“But she’s not in her room.”
“She has a house now.”
Her son finally looked at her, those bright silver eyes curious. . . as always. Especially when it came to Iseabail.
“A house? Izzy has a house?”
“Gwenvael had it built for her. It’s just outside of town.” Rhiannon leaned in a bit and said low, “I think she was feeling a little crowded here.”
“Talaith?”
“The twins. They’re appallingly nosey.” When her son only stared at her, she added, “Not like me!”
He grunted and looked back out over the land. “I bought a castle.”
“Whatever for?”
“I like sleeping in a bed.”
“You can have beds in caves.”
“I have a cave, too. But I wanted a castle.”
She shook her head. “Just like your grandfather. I couldn’t believe when your father kidnapped me and took me to Ailean’s castle rather than a cave. Imagine! An entire dragon family forced to live in a castle.”
“Must you always point out you were kidnapped by our father?”
“I was.”
“Dad says you were tossed on his doorstep like so much royal trash. And you were haughty about it, too.”
“I was not haughty. I’m just better than him. Once he understood that, we were fine.”
And then, there it was. The thing she’d been missing for so long now. Éibhear the Blue smiled.
“I missed you, Mum.”
“I missed you, too.” She rested her head against his arm, marveling at the size of the muscle under her ear. “And I’m glad you’re home. At least for a little while.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
After her friends left, Izzy cleaned off the table, gave Macsen a break outside, and washed up. She was about to slip into bed when a knock on the door had her throwing a nightdress over her naked body and grabbing her sword. She cracked the door open a bit, but she immediately lowered her weapon.
“Yes?”
“I had a bad dream.”
Izzy opened the door but blocked the way so her sister couldn’t walk in. “You had a bad dream?”
“Yes.”
“So you walked all the way over from the castle, in a nightdress and robe, so that you can sleep in my bed?”
“Yes.”
“The stuffed bear is a nice touch.”
“Thank you.”
“And you came here alone?”
“No, no. The twins are with me.”
Izzy leaned out and looked around. “The twins are where?”
“In the trees.”
“Why . . .” Izzy glanced up, trying to understand this. “Why are they in the trees?”
“To sleep.”
“They don’t want to come in?”
“They like to sleep in trees. I, however, do not.” Rhi tightened her arms around her body. “Getting colder . . .”
“You just expect me to kick Macsen out?”
“Macsen adores me!” Rhi pushed her way through. “You’re so mean!”
Laughing, Izzy stepped out and said to the trees, while hoping not to disturb her nearby neighbors, “You can sleep on my floor.”
“No thank you,” came back to her. She shrugged and went inside, closing the door behind her but leaving it unlatched. She knew if the twins didn’t come inside, they would stay in the trees all night, ensuring Rhi’s safety.
Izzy walked into her bedroom to find her sister wrestling with Macsen on the bed, the dog trying to get the stuffed bear she’d brought along with her.
“Give it, you vile beast!”
“If you two aren’t going to play nice . . .”
“You two?”
Macsen tore the bear from Rhi’s hands, leaped off the bed, and began to prance around the room. Almost like a small horse.
“Now you’re just being mean, Macsen!”
“That’s it.” Izzy held her hand out. “Toy. Now.”
Macsen stopped, stared at her. “Now.”
He spit the toy at her fe
et and Izzy swiped it up, putting it on a shelf that, in theory, he shouldn’t be able to reach.
“On the bed,” she ordered. And to her sister, “Under the covers. No crowding.”
Giggling, Rhi dived under the sheets. Knowing her sister was so happy to see her really did mean a lot to Izzy. As a general, there were days her men loved the sight of her, and other days when they absolutely dreaded it. But no matter the day, Rhi was always excited. Izzy got in the bed behind her sister.
“Your feet are freezing!” Rhi complained.
“Then you should have stayed in your own bed, whiner.”
As soon as Izzy relaxed, Rhi was there, her arms wrapping around her sister’s waist, her head against Izzy’s shoulder.
“You were missed at dinner,” Rhi said into the dark.
“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t come.” Izzy hugged her sister a little tighter. “I just . . . couldn’t face it. I knew you’d understand.”
“Oh, I did! I wish I could miss dinner more often.” She was quiet for a moment, then added, “Uncle Éibhear looked particularly disappointed.”
“Rhianwen—”
“Uh-oh. Full name used.”
“Exactly. So hear me well, sister. There is nothing and will be nothing to discuss when it comes to your Uncle Éibhear. Do you understand?”
“I do.”
“We can’t mention him at all?” a male voice said from the dark and Izzy quickly realized that the twins were now in her room, on her bed. Stretched out across the bottom of it.
“I thought you two were going to sleep in the trees.”
“It was less comfortable than we thought it would be,” Talwyn said around a yawn.
“So we came in,” Talan added.
“And where’s the dog?”
“Between me and Talwyn.”
Rolling her eyes, Izzy snapped at Macsen, “Good protection there, you dozy bastard.”
“Ssssh,” Talwyn whispered. “He’s asleep.”
Deciding there was no point in fighting this, she closed her eyes and tried to go to sleep.
She knew the attempt would be a waste of time, however, when the giggling started, followed by the complaining about the giggling, and then the snoring. By the gods, the snoring!
