by G. A. Aiken
“Sir . . . I’m traveling into the west. Do you mean the Quintilian Provinces?”
Bercelak paused, then answered, “Aye, Sergeant. It’s believed that’s where Annwyl was headed. Morfyd can tell you more. She stayed behind while the army advanced without her. Stop at the camp first. Anything else?”
What was there to ask? To say?
“No, sir.”
“For your own sake, Sergeant, I’d keep as low a profile as possible. Travel as human as much as you can, and do nothing . . . foolhardy. You have one mission—bring Annwyl back. Alive or dead. Understand?”
“Aye, sir. I understand.”
“Then go. And may the gods of war protect you.”
With a quick bow of her head to the queen, Rhona walked out of the room in search of her father.
“They’re sending you to do what?” Sulien demanded of his eldest daughter.
“Don’t make me repeat it, Daddy,” she muttered, digging through his chests of excess clothes, uniforms, and armor. “Just help me find something that will let me blend in with other travelers.” She motioned to what she wore. Standard protective gear with the Dragon Queen’s colors and seal on it. “Can’t blend in this, now can I?”
“Not in the bloody Provinces you can’t.”
“Scream it a little louder. Don’t think they heard you in the Desert Lands.”
Sulien gripped his daughter’s shoulders and turned her to look at him. “Why are you doing this?” he demanded.
“It’s my orders.”
“To head into the Provinces and end up crucified?”
“Not if I can get in and out without being noticed.”
“If you’re going to rescue that mad bitch, you’ll be noticed all right.”
“Those are my orders—”
“Gods, girl! Stop saying that!”
Rhona sighed. “What do you want me to say? Do you want me to lie to you? Tell you what you want to hear?”
“That would be a start.”
Rhona smiled and he saw himself in that smile. Of all his offspring, Rhona was the one who took so much after him. She had his face, his strength, and his skills. From the beginning he knew her place was behind a forge of her own, not fighting wars to prove something to her mother. He adored Bradana more than words could say, but if there was one thing they’d always fought over, it was his Rhona.
It wasn’t that Sulien thought his daughter didn’t have what was necessary to be a soldier or even one of those bloody Dragonwarriors. But having what was necessary and having your heart in it were two vastly different things. From the time Sulien had met his mate, he’d known what she was. A warrior. Without a doubt. It was in her eyes, in the way she walked, in the way she lived. She was a warrior and would take no less from this world. And that same look and attitude had been in all their offspring—except Rhona.
Rhona’s skill with weapons was so that, like every good blacksmith, she’d know what was the right weight, what worked well during a fight, what could kill and what could maim.
But her mother had seen her skill as a calling to be a Dragonwarrior, and to this day it bothered her beyond reckoning that her eldest daughter had not gotten farther than a “mere soldier.” Cadwaladrs, in Bradana’s mind, were supposed to be Dragonwarriors, leading the way into battle. Making orders, not taking them. So round and round mother and daughter went. Rhona never going further than a good soldier because her true calling was to be a Master Blacksmith. And her mother still trying to prove that her eldest just needed a little push in the right direction.
A push right into death, it seemed.
Rhona held up a chain-mail shirt. “What about this?”
“No.” He snatched the shirt from her and slapped it back into the trunk. “You’ve got your mother’s”—Sulien awkwardly motioned around his daughter’s chest—“assets.”
“Assets?”
“Here. Wear this.” He handed her a chain-mail shirt that he’d spent years perfecting.
“Daddy, I can’t take—”
“You will and you’ll wear it under your traveler’s clothes. Here are the leggings that go with them.”
“But this is—”
“My best work and I can’t imagine who else you’d think I’d be saving it for if not for me own daughter.”
Rhona smiled at him. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“Don’t get weepy on me. Don’t think I can handle it.” He turned from her, unable to look at that beautiful face. “By the time we’re done, you’ll be the most well-armed traveler ever known.”
Once he’d equipped his daughter as best he could, Sulien walked her outside his tent and there they said their good-byes. He hugged her tight, kissing the top of her head and making her promise she’d at least try to be careful. Assuring lies given, he watched his daughter walk off into the busy crowd of warriors and guards and witches preparing for another assault from the Tribesmen. At the right moment, Rhona’s kin would create a diversion that would give Rhona the time she needed to slip out undetected.
Releasing a heavy sigh, Sulien walked back into his tent, coming to an abrupt halt when he saw the Lightning standing there, arms crossed over a chest nearly as big as his own.
“What do you want?”
“Do you really think for a second I’d let her go into the Provinces without me?” The Lightning lifted his giant—even when it was fit for a human—hammer and dropped it to the ground. “I need one of those fancy hammers of yours, blacksmith. I have to blend, don’t I?”
Grinning, Sulien helped the Northlander find just what he needed.
Chapter 13
Rhona crouched beside the discreet door. It was built into the gate hidden behind trees on both sides. And that’s where she waited to hear the signal that would tell her it was time to move.
Dressed as a traveler, she still had weapons hidden in every available place she and her father could think of. She was as ready as she could ever hope to be. Would she rather be doing something else? Anything else? Aye. But that desire didn’t change anything.
Weapons clashed and she knew her kin had attacked the Tribesmen who’d been regrouping on the other side of the forests. There were so many of them, they’d ringed the castle gates, but Rhona just needed the ones near this door to be drawn away.
She eased the door partially open and watched, ready to make her move at any—
Rhona’s entire body tensed and she slowly looked over her shoulder at what was crouching right behind her.
“What are you—”
A call went out and Vigholf shoved her forward. “Go,” he whispered.
Unable to confront the dumb ox at this moment, Rhona scrambled out the door, keeping low and moving quick. She used the trees for cover, pausing every few feet to stop and make sure she was still unseen. The Lightning was right behind her, keeping up with her as he always managed to do.
She stopped by an old tree with a massive trunk. Peeking around it, she saw two Tribesmen on horseback. Just sitting there while all hells broke loose nearby.
Rhona held up her hand to Vigholf and he stopped. She pointed at the men, then drew her thumb across her throat. Vigholf nodded and they moved out.
The man Rhona ran up to never heard or saw her coming, and his horse gave no warning. She yanked the man off, slapped her hand over his mouth, and jammed a blade into his throat in such a way that he couldn’t speak or call out. She pulled the blade out, rammed it back in, and this time yanked it from one side to the other.
The man Vigholf moved up next to was warned of the Lightning’s presence by his horse rearing up in panic. To silence him, Vigholf punched the horse. It went down and Vigholf used his ax, cutting off the Tribesman’s head before he could speak a word.
How Rhona would travel on horseback with Vigholf terrifying or punching the poor animals at every turn, she really hadn’t figured out yet. But she could worry about that later.
She and Vigholf dragged the bodies of the men to a spot behind that big tree an
d slapped the rump of the horse that wasn’t unconscious so that he’d take off. The other horse, Vigholf picked up and carried over his shoulder until they reached the river. He dropped the horse by it and together, they followed the river until they could cross it and make a run for the Western Mountains.
Edana and her two sisters Nesta and Breena were going through their daily weapons check, counting all their weapons and looking for any weaknesses in the steel or grip. Nothing worse than having your sword break on you when you’re in the middle of a battle. It was a lesson that had been well taught to them by Rhona. She’d been the first face that Edana had seen when she’d crawled out of her broken egg, one eye swollen shut from being pummeled by Nesta, her back leg weak because Breena had nearly bitten the damn thing off. Their mother had rushed off to some battle before they’d made their entrance into this world, so it had been Rhona who’d raised them even though she hadn’t been a grown adult herself yet.
Most dragons didn’t have so many hatchlings in such a short span of time, but Bradana had put off breeding far longer than her mated sisters and being the competitive female that she was, she’d gone out of her way to make up for it. The only problem was, she wasn’t much for sticking around when there was killing to be done. So off she’d gone before her triplets had hatched, leaving it up to Rhona to do the bulk of the work. Just like she’d expected Rhona to do with all her offspring.
Done with their own weapons, the three sisters changed places and examined each other’s weapons. An unnecessary step, their mum called it. “Don’t you know your own weapon?” she’d demanded when she saw the triplets do this. But often Edana’s sisters saw something that she’d missed and she saw something that they’d missed. And what was the point of taking the risk? If they had the time, might as well do the extra steps. Couldn’t hurt.
“Oy, you two!”
Edana didn’t bother to sigh anymore. “There’s three of us, Mum. Unless you’re ignoring one of us for some reason.”
“Don’t back-talk me, little miss. Where’s that sister of yours?”
Nesta snorted. “You’ll need to be more specific than that.”
Their mother snarled. The only one of them she ever checked up on was Rhona and all of them knew it. Yet it was still fun to toy with her.
“Rhona. Where is she?”
“Around somewhere,” Breena said. “Just saw her, I did. Not more than ten minutes ago. Went”—she pointed at some random spot across the cavern—“that way.”
“Gods-dammit. That girl,” their mother griped before she marched off.
Edana waited until Bradana was out of earshot before she asked the other two, “Any word from Rhona?”
They both shook their heads. “But we can’t let Mum know she’s gone. You know how she gets,” Nesta reminded them.
“And if Rhona wanted her to know, she’d have told her,” Breena added.
Nesta nodded. “And if she was in trouble we’d know that too.”
“Besides,” Breena sighed out. “We’ve got bigger and dumber problems to worry about right here.”
All three looked over and watched their cousins roll around on the cave floor, trying to damage the other. Over some female no less! A human female!
Normally Edana would never get in the middle of something so ridiculous, but Rhona wasn’t here and Rhona would get in the middle. More important, if they were going to keep up the illusion that their sister was about, they’d have to manage these things themselves because that’s what Rhona did when she was here. If things got out of control, their mother would know in an instant that something had changed.
“I’ll take Celyn,” she told her sisters while getting to her claws. “You two take Éibhear.”
“Why do we always have to take Éibhear?” Nesta whined. “He’s as big as a mountain and don’t pay attention to where he’s swinging those big meat hooks of his.”
“Yeah,” Edana agreed. “That’s why I have you two do it. Now move your asses before Mum notices.”
Rhona crouched beside a small brook and took off her glove to scoop water to her mouth. It was cold and bracing, and revived her after such a long run. She was still in Dark Plains but far from the battle going on at Garbhán Isle, giving her time to think.
Hard snow and ice cracked behind her and Rhona, still crouched, turned, thrusting her spear up. The warhammer created by her father slammed into it, moving it aside but not knocking it from her hands.
“It’s me,” Vigholf told her quickly.
And Rhona replied honestly, “I know.”
“What do you mean you know? Then why did you attack me?”
Rhona stood to her full, tall, human height, but she still had to look up at the Lightning to see his face. “Why do you think? And why are you here?”
“Why do you think? Did you really think I was going to let you go off on your own?”
“So you lied to my uncle then? You don’t think I can handle—”
“Before you even finish that idiotic statement, let me make something very clear to you. If I’d been assigned this mission . . . I’d not want to go it alone. I’d need someone to watch my back. Someone I know would keep an eye out for me no matter what I may have gotten myself into. So I didn’t lie to your uncle or anyone else. I know you can do this, but since I can afford to be here watching your back, I will.”
“What about your brother?”
“What about him?”
“If Annwyl’s army is on the move then they’re gearing up for the final assault. The one that will end this bloody war and get us back to our normal lives.”
“War is the Northlander’s normal life, Sergeant. Once we’re done sorting out the Irons for you Fire Breathers, we’ll be focusing on the Spikes out of the Ice Lands. They’ve no doubt moved into our territory, thinking we’re gone forever. So it’s not like there won’t be killing aplenty for me when I return home.”
“But—”
“That’s it!” he cut in. “I’ll hear no more. I’m going with you. Just accept it.”
“Fine. Then let’s make a few things clear before we go any farther.” She placed the butt of her spear in the ground, gripping it tight. “I know this will be hard for that thick Northland head of yours to get around, but I’m a soldier of the Dragon Queen’s army and I’ve survived more than two centuries without you stepping in to protect me during every battle that comes my way. That I won’t tolerate. Watch my back, yeah. But that’s it. Understand?”
“You watch my back, Fire Breather, and I’ll watch yours. And I’m not about to get in the middle of any of your fights if I don’t have to.” He motioned to her spear. “You’ve stabbed me enough with that thing.”
“Yeah, but that first time was an accident. Can’t promise that if I do it again.”
“Fair enough.” He looked around, shrugged. “So what do we do now?”
“Keep moving. The quicker we get to Morfyd, the better. We’d do better on horseback, but with you and your problems with horses . . .”
“What’s that mean?”
“You just knocked one out.”
“I was keeping him quiet.”
Shaking her head, Rhona crouched down again and filled her canteen with fresh water. Once done, she stood and started running again. “Come on, Lightning,” she called back to him. “Move that ass. We haven’t got all night!”
She heard him sigh and mutter, “I hate running,” and then he was by her side, keeping pace with her as they headed deep into the border territory between the Southlands and the Western Plains.
“Where is she?”
Eirianwen, goddess of war, stepped over the bodies of the fallen and went to her mate, Rhydderch Hael, fathergod of all dragons. As she walked toward him, Eir, as she’d done since time began, admired the beauty of his form. A black dragon with scales that glistened in the dying light of the two suns; twelve bright, white horns atop his head; black mane of hair with the shades of every color in the spectrum streaked throughout, long
and sweeping along the blood-soaked ground. She couldn’t see his tail, it reached too far back at the moment, but it always reminded her of her favorite broadsword. Big, wide, with a blade of a tip that could destroy anything it touched.
Yet Eir’s love of the dragon didn’t mean she’d take his centaur shit. “And hello to you, my love.”
“Don’t play me about, Eir,” he lashed back. “Where is she?”
“Who? Who are you going on about?”
“Annwyl the Bloody.”
“Oh. Your pet.” Eir put her sword back in its scabbard. “I have no idea where she is.”
“Eir—”
“I don’t! She’s not my concern. She’s your concern.”
“Don’t start that again. She was dead and you brought her back!”
“I did that for Dagmar Reinholdt.”
“Your pet.” His gaze moved around the battlefield. “You’ve been busy, I see.”
“The beauty of this world is that there are so many wars for me to choose from.”
“So what’s going on in Euphrasia Valley . . . ?”
“That is not my war, lover. Although I have been entertained. Such strategists both sides have.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You know who this comes down to, Rhy. He’s always wanted your power. To emulate your reign.”
“How far do you think he’d go?”
“Do you mean do I think he’d abscond with your little pet?”
“Feel free to stop calling her that.”
“No. I don’t think he has the guts to do that.”
“But?”
“What makes you think Annwyl would only attract you or someone out to get you? As far as the rest of the gods are concerned, you’ve tossed her aside. That means she’s available to any god who can entice her to join forces. She’s a powerful ally among the humans.” Eir pressed her hand against her consort’s neck. “Do you want me to look into it?” She grinned. “Wars are my area.”
“What about the carnage here?”
“Eh.” She shrugged. “When you’ve seen one battlefield with corpses, you’ve seen them all.”
