The Christian & Brina Collection

by Judith Post

  Regnia's jaw dropped. "Blood suckers? You allow blood suckers in your court?"

  "How nice to meet you." Jarman's voice rivaled the smoothness of silk. "I've heard so much about you."

  "And you're?" She looked Jarman up and down and sneered at his good looks.

  Christian stepped forward. "This is our good friend, Jarman, and these are a few of his band. They helped us defeat a vampire horde a while back."

  Regnia sighed with disgust. "Does every misfit magic user flock to your kingdom?"

  Jarman laughed, entertained by the jab. "Pretty much, and we're awfully happy to be here." He turned to Brom. "Congratulations, my friend."

  Ignoring Brom, Regnia's expression turned cold. "You have witches, dragon riders, and vampires in your serfdoms. Is there anything else I should prepare for?"

  Jarman bent over her hand and pressed his lips to her caramel skin. "You've just scratched the surface, but aren't vampires enough? Who needs more?"

  She looked uncertain. Before she could reply, Brina stepped to the arched doorway. "Cook's served food in the Great Room, since there are more than usual of us tonight. Come. Eat."

  Christian felt his breath stick for a moment, as it usually did when he gazed at his wife. Smart, strong, beautiful…and now, the mother of his child. How did he get so lucky?

  Everyone rushed up the stairs to enjoy each other's company. Jarman went straight to see the babies and hovered over them. He made some comment that made Ignisia laugh. He flirted and teased until Brina kissed him on the cheek. Christian watched and enjoyed the interplay, but kept an eye on Regnia. She watched with a sly smirk that unsettled him. When would it finally dawn on her that her sister would never leave here?

  Before they sat down to table, Lynet came to take Elysia, and Cook carried Ignisia's little boy away. Without babies, everyone felt free to eat and relax.

  "Have you chosen a name, Brom? I could make up a song for your son, a ballad perhaps." Thurstan reached for his Isolda. She was ripe with child, but hadn't dropped yet. All three women had gotten pregnant close together—good fortune, as far as Christian was concerned. Their children would grow up together.

  "What shall we call your boy?" Thurstan repeated.

  "Grifon," Ignisia said, "after Brom's father."

  Brom looked surprised and pleased. Brina clapped her hands, happy for him.

  Regnia grimaced. "A silly name. What of our heritage? He's in line as heir to my kingdom."

  "In line?" Christian turned a thoughtful gaze on her.

  "If I have a child, he'd inherit my rule."

  If she had a child. Would she claim the baby boy from the woman she'd imprisoned and insist he was her own?

  Brom squeezed Ignisia's hand. "Our son already has a kingdom—ours."

  Thurstan nodded. "Grifon it is, then. I'll think of a fitting tune."

  Regnia shrugged her displeasure, but the sly look returned.

  The night passed quickly, and soon, they'd stayed up later than they meant to.

  Jarman came to bow before Regnia. "We'll take our leave now. You have a big day tomorrow with the feast. Farewell, fair guest. Know that Ignisia is well loved here."

  Regnia looked around the room. A cluster of people surrounded Ignisia and Brina. Thurstan and Isolda stood on one side of them, Vorare and Daralys on the other. She squinted. "I see ripples of many types of magic."

  "Ah, but there's more." Jarman smiled. "Wait 'til you meet our harpie and her witch."

  "You have harpies?" Regnia grew pensive. "Many travelers have settled here. Vampires wander, too. Have you ever been to my kingdom?"

  Christian strained to hear their conversation. Something had bothered Regnia, it was clear. He wondered what…and why.

  Jarman shook his head. "I never ventured that far. I doubt Aelio has either."

  Her shoulders relaxed. "So only your businessman, Vorare, knows where it is?"

  At Jarman's nod, a slight smile curved Regnia's lips.

  By the time everyone left, Christian could hardly think straight. Weariness washed over him. All he wanted to do was climb into bed beside his wife. Yesterday had been a long day, and this one was no better. Once alone in their bedchamber, he reached for her. Brina spooned against him, and once she and the baby drifted to sleep, so did he. His dream returned. A golden dragon guarded their Elysia, but a dark serpent waited for the baby boy.

  Again, he woke, covered with sweat, consumed by worry.

  * * *

  Feast Day arrived, and Christian's people lined up to enter the heavy walls that surrounded his fortress. Bright-colored flags lined the parapets. The aromas of wood smoke and meat juices, dripping from spits, filled the air. People waited impatiently to see Christian and Brina, with Elysia propped in her lap. Then they stopped to see Brom and Ignisia, holding Grifon. Once satisfied with meeting the new babies, they made their way to the tables, laden with food. Dressed in their best woven shirts, they smiled at Lady Enid, seated beside her son, and eyed Regnia, seated close to Ignisia.

  A woman with metal-gray hair stopped before them. "Blessings upon your children," she said with a small bow.

  "Thank you, Gaynor," Christian responded.

  She held out a small bouquet of field flowers. "For you and yours," she said.

  Brina smiled. "They're lovely."

  Lady Enid placed them in a large bowl, along with the many other flowers they'd received.

  When Gaynor reluctantly moved on, a large man with blackened hands and corded muscles stood before them.

  "I smithed her this." He thrust a small horseshoe toward Christian. "It wards off evil."

  "Thank you, Allard." Christian accepted the gift and shook the man's hand.

  The line went on and on. Finally, Regnia heaved a disgusted sigh. "Do you know all of them by name?"

  Christian shrugged. "I visit their villages often to see to their needs. My mother's their healer."

  Regnia wrinkled her nose. "You should advise them to bathe more. They stink. I need wine to wash their taste from my throat."

  Christian raised a hand for a servant, but Regnia pushed to her feet. "I can stomach only so much jollity. I'll fetch us a bottle." She stalked toward the kitchen.

  She returned with two bottles and a tray of goblets. She poured herself a glass and gulped a few sips before splashing the red liquid into cups for the others. She walked down the line to deliver them before plopping back in her chair. "Thank the heavens! The line's finally dwindling. Why are your peasants celebrating, anyway? In this country, only boys inherit, don't they?"

  "They're happy for us," Christian said. "They know I wanted a daughter."

  She shook her head. "Even in our lands, a son's better. The strong take what they want. Or try to."

  "You're a female and a ruler," Christian pointed out.

  The familiar smirk returned. "My father had no sons. A good thing."

  The conversation dropped as the last person bowed before Brina and Elysia. Then Christian led their party to the head table to take their seats. When witches shot magic skyward, the festivities began in earnest. Servants sliced roasted geese, ducks, venison, and lamb. Ale flowed. Music rippled over the courtyard. Thurstan's voice lifted and fell in song. One of his ballads featured the hero, Grifon.

  When the first course finished, lords and ladies came to offer presents. Then, custard tarts, poached pears, and date sweetmeats were carried out. The fiddlers started. People came and went. They laughed and danced.

  Brom placed a hand on Ignisia's knee. "When we go home, our people will be this happy for us."

  She smiled and started to stand, but quickly clamped a hand over her mouth. Hurrying from the table, she raced toward the castle. Brom rose, too, but Lady Enid placed a hand on his shoulder. "No, stay. Cook and I will care for her."

  Brom looked worried, but did as he was told. Regnia leaned forward, watching the commotion. "Is my sister ill? I should go to her."

  "My mother and Cook are healers. She's in good hands. They pr
efer to work, unwatched." Brave words, but Christian worried, too.

  The spits were nearly empty before the three women returned—Ignisia pale, but steady between them. Regnia stared.

  Lady Enid turned to Christian. "Lynet meant to care for the babies after the meal, but she's young. She'll miss the music and dance. I offered to take her place. I'll keep Elysia and Grifon in my rooms. Enjoy the celebration."

  Something wasn't right. Christian rose to follow his mother, to seek answers, but she gave a small shake of her head, then she and a servant took the babies and hurried away.

  The minute they were gone, Cook rounded on Regnia. "When I asked Ignisia to help me in the kitchens, I gave her a potion that protects against poisons."

  Regnia's hands knotted into fists. "You can do that?"

  "I'm a healer with Earth magic. I know plants and herbs."

  Everyone at the table turned to look at Regnia.

  She recovered quickly, her expression a bland mask. "Surely my sister just ate too many rich foods too soon after childbirth."

  "Deny it then." Brom pushed to his feet. "You're a dragon rider. You can't lie. Say the words. Say that you didn't poison my wife."

  Regnia stood to face him. "I refuse to defend myself to any of you. It's beneath me."

  "Because you can't." Brom took a step toward her. "Dragon riders can distort the truth, but they can't lie."

  "I know the rules as well as you do," she snapped. "But I am empress of my lands, and I don't defend myself against commoners."

  "We're not commoners." Christian's voice cut like ice.

  "You would be in my lands. Your ways are primitive. You probably didn't preserve your foods the right way." Regnia straightened her shoulders. "Either that, or perhaps you should consider the fact that someone else tried to harm my sister."

  More ambiguous words. Christian met her gaze and held it. "She's loved here. Just deny it. Then we'll look elsewhere."

  Her lips curled in disdain. "I'm not used to being questioned. I came here to find my sister. I don't enjoy your implications, and I'll take my leave now."

  "For good?" Ignisia gripped Brom's arm to support herself, but her words held a threat.

  Regnia's look was pure hatred. "Yes, I'll return home."

  "Stay there." Ignisia nodded toward her friends. "You're not welcome in any of our lands."

  Back rigid, Regnia stalked toward the castle. On the way, she brushed against Lynet, who was crossing the courtyard. Lynet tensed and stared after her. Then her gaze went fuzzy, and she held out a hand to steady herself. Her eyes went wide and she stuffed a hand between her lips to keep from crying out.

  Christian hurried to her. He supported her until her expression returned to normal, then placed a hand under her elbow to lead her to their table. "Are you all right? What did you see?"

  They all leaned forward to hear. They'd gotten used to the girl's visions, had learned to respect them.

  Lynet swallowed, clearly upset. "I don't understand."

  "Just tell us," Christian said.

  She took a deep breath. "Everyone was golden tan with sleek, black hair, like Ignisia and her sister."

  "Something frightened you," Christian prompted.

  Lynet took a shaky breath. "I saw one beautiful man after another, chained to a bed. It was always the same bed. An angry cry would come from a nearby room, and the men would cringe, try to work themselves free from their cuffs. The door would open, and a soldier with a long, curved blade would hurry toward them and …." She put her hand over her lips.

  Brina's fingers gripped her chair arms.

  "Who gave the angry cry?" Christian asked. "A man or a woman?"

  Lynet looked to Brina, trying to remember. Finally, she said, "A woman."

  Cold fear spread through Christian. He turned to Brom. "Regnia slept with different men and blamed them when she didn't become pregnant."

  "She can't carry a child." Brom looked at Ignisia. "What happens if your sister can't conceive?"

  "She's hated. An enemy could use her sterility to steal her throne, to offer the kingdom an heir and stability."

  "She's going to take the young girl's baby who's in prison, isn't she?" Lynet cried.

  Brom growled his anger. "Some magicians can smell bloodlines. She's going to pretend Grifon's her own, and he'll pass, but she needs a wet nurse to feed him."

  Brina gasped. "But why poison Ignisia?"

  "She'd be out of the way." Christian shook his head at his own naiveté. "She meant to lure her home, then kill her after she gave birth. None of us knows exactly where the kingdom is. With Ignisia dead, we couldn't find Brom's son."

  Brom motioned toward Vorare. "The sin eater can."

  "She didn't expect that." Christian glanced at the castle, worried. "But only Ignisia's led an army of dragons. The odds would still be against us."

  Ignisia grabbed Brom's hand, and they raced toward the front stairway. Christian ran to the servants' stairs. When they reached Lady Enid's room, he found his mother on the floor, unconscious. Blood oozed from a gash on her temple.

  His knees weak, he dropped beside her, gently cradling her head in his hands. She groaned, and relief rushed through him. Cook hurried in behind Brom and Ignisia. She was at his mother's side in an instant, pressing healing magic into her.

  Lady Enid's eyes fluttered open. She focused on Christian and gripped his tunic. "She took Grifon."

  Brina ran to the two cradles near Lady Enid's bed. Elysia slept in one. The other was empty. She looked at Brom and gave a grim nod.

  "Go," Lady Enid told Christian. "Stop her."

  Christian and Brom ran, flat-out, down the stairs. They wouldn't reach the stable for their dragons in time. Brom pressed two fingers to his lips and blasted a whistle. Lothar charged to the door.

  "Don't let Regnia pass!" he called.

  Lothar whirled about, blocking the opening. His long tail thrashed from side to side—a warning.

  A high-pitched challenge pierced the air as Regnia's dragon lowered its head for battle.

  As they raced to stop her, Regnia turned toward the iron door at the other end of the stables, but Christian watched Scarlet block it. "Away!" Regnia screamed.

  Ignisia's bloodred dragon hissed a warning.

  Brom and Christian reached the doors just as Regnia directed her dragon to belch fire at the high ceiling. She meant to burn a hole in the roof and escape that way.

  Brom threw himself on Lothar's back. The dragon sucked in air, readying to blast flames, but Brom yelled, "No!"

  Regnia held Grifon in the crook of her left arm. Christian struggled with the same problem. He used fire magic to battle. If he shot flames at Regnia's dragon, it would respond. No one wanted to set the stables ablaze.

  Christian jerked when hands settled on his shoulders. He turned to see Brina standing behind him. His wife's blue eyes sparkled with temper. Ignisia, Sabina, and Cook stood behind her.

  Regnia raised an eyebrow at him. "Be careful with your choices, Lord." The Lord came out as a sneer, mocking him.

  He kept his voice low as he asked Brina, "Where should I aim?"

  Sabina answered. "Drill ice straight at her forehead, knock her out, and I'll send winds to catch Brom's baby."

  Christian looked to Brom. When he gave a quick nod, Christian raised his palms and shot. With Brina's magic—that could give or take energy—he blasted a sheet of cold straight between Regnia's eyes. It hit hard, and Regnia fell backward, Grifon tumbling from her arm.

  Sabina, as promised, sent winds to lift him up and hold him in place. Ignisia ran to grab him, hugged him close, then handed Brom their son. "Keep him safe."

  At Brom's frown, she said, "This is our battle. My sister's not leaving here alive. She has no conscience, no heart. She'll try again. This ends here."

  "You just gave…."

  Ignisia cut him off with a quick kiss. "This is my wish. Respect it."

  Brom's expression showed his struggle, but he stepped aside and carried Gr
ifon from the stable. He nodded for Christian and the others to join him.

  Regnia pushed herself onto her elbows with a low moan. She rubbed at her forehead and winced.

  Ignisia kicked her further awake. "Get up." She stalked to the weapons wall and took down two swords. Regnia lunged to her feet, and Ignisia tossed one to her. She caught it nimbly.

  "You're foolish." Regnia swung the sword to check its balance. "You should have finished me while you could."

  "You haven't done one honorable thing in your life," Ignisia snarled. "At least, you can die with honor."

  Regnia laughed. "When was the last time you fought?"

  "I spent years, training and battling, Sister, while you let your henchmen kill your enemies, even your friends."

  Regnia took a fighter's stance. Christian worried, but forced himself to stay put. Brom looked like he might burst into the stables and take Ignisia's sword.

  Sabina laid a hand on Brom's arm to calm him. "She won't appreciate it if you don't trust her in this," she warned.

  Brom sighed and rooted his feet in place.

  "My husband hates that I battle with my magic, but he understands why I do it, and I love him for that," Sabina said.

  Wise words, but Lord, it was hard being the one who watched instead of the one who fought. Christian glanced at Brina. He, too, hated when she joined him in battle, but he understood. What if she asked him to stay in the fortress, safe from harm? He couldn't do it.

  Cook's hands went to her hips. "I don't trust that one. She won't fight fair."

  The words had hardly passed her lips when Regnia motioned to her dragon, and it kicked dirt in Ignisia's face. Regnia rushed her while she wiped at her eyes, trying to see. Cook raised her palms and a slab of dirt rose between them.

  Regnia whirled and glared at the old witch. "Stay out of this."

  "Fight fair, and I will."

  Cheeks smeared, eyes watering, Ignisia punched at the dirt wall. It crumbled. She stared at her sister and attacked. Swords clanged and met. Both women were warriors. They moved quickly and efficiently, ducking, darting, doing back flips and kicks that Christian had never seen.

  Everyone held their breaths, watching the deadly, fast thrusts and counter-thrusts.