by Larissa Ione
“What if we get hungry?” one of her cousins asked.
“Cows. In the field.” She pointed a finger at them. “But you leave the human inside alone. He’s not to be eaten. Do you understand?”
“But what if we’re really hungry?”
And by the time she’d pulled her axe, her cousins had already charged back inside the gates, laughing the entire time.
They didn’t make their first stop until late morning, proving Ghleanna right about Addolgar. He was a tyrant about travel. But Bram was unclear why they’d come here. Gods, he hoped it wasn’t to round up more blasted Cadwaladrs.
“What are we doing here, Addolgar?” Ghleanna demanded once her talons touched the ground.
“You know why. Did you think you could leave the Southlands without coming here first?”
“As a matter of fact, I did,” she snapped back.
“Well, you can’t. An hour here. A bit of food. And then we’ll be on our way.”
“But—”
“No arguments, annoying female!”
Ghleanna stamped her back claw. “Worthless bastard!” “Whiny harpie!”
“This is your parents’ home.”
The siblings faced Bram and Addolgar asked, “How’d ya know that?”
Bram gazed at them all. “I used to visit. Quite often. Even stayed here for a while.”
“You did?”
With a sigh, he walked off until he could comfortably shift and put on clothes. Once he’d done that, he headed toward Ailean the Wicked’s castle. Eventually, Ghleanna caught up to him. She’d shifted and changed into clothes as well.
“I remember you visiting.”
“Remarkable. Since you were rarely here back then.”
“But when I was here, I remember you. You were always chatting with my father.”
“I came to him for advice quite often. He was a great help to me when I was first starting out.”
Ghleanna slowed to a stop. “My father?”
“Your father,” he said while he kept walking.
She caught up with him again. “My father helped you with that . . . that thing you do?”
“Yes. Your father helped me with that peacemaking thing I do that keeps you happily killing for a living.”
She caught his arm and brought him up short. “He helped you do what?”
“Many things.”
“What things?”
“Different things.”
“Like what?”
“Things.”
“Now you’re pissing me off.”
“Then my goal’s been obtained!”
Frustrated but, it seemed, unwilling to beat the answer out of him, Ghleanna stomped her foot as she’d stomped her back claw earlier and said, “Tell me!”
“No. I will tell you nothing. It’s between me and your father.”
“What’s between you?”
Bram shrugged. “Things.”
Laughing, she tugged at his arm as Addolgar walked up behind them.
“Would you two pack it in. I want to—”
Addolgar’s body lifted and flew into a nearby tree. Sent there by very strong arms and a total disregard for acceptable father-son boundaries.
“Still not paying attention, boy!” Ailean the Wicked bellowed good naturedly. For an older dragon, he still had a healthy set of lungs.
“You mad bastard!”
“And watch your mouth, boy,” Ailean ordered.
The three youngest siblings stood beside their embarrassed older brother, laughing. Until another dragon crept up behind them, unseen, and slammed his shield into them, sending Cai and Adain flying and Hew screaming like a little girl in surprise.
“Weak!” Ailean bellowed. “The whole lot of you.” He suddenly pointed at Ghleanna. “Except her. Except my beautiful daughter who saw me all the way over there.”
“You saw him?” Addolgar snarled, dragging himself to his feet. “And you didn’t warn me?”
“I was talking to—”
“Bram!” Ailean held his arm out and Bram gripped it.
“Ailean. How are you?”
“Fine, boy. Fine. Notice you didn’t jump either.” He glared at Hew. “Unlike some others.”
“Weak,” the older dragon with the shield said. “All your sons, brother. Weak as newborn babies.”
“Uncle Arranz!” Ghleanna ran over to the older dragon and threw herself into his open arms. “It’s been ages.”
“It has.” He put her down, looked her over. “You look good. Solid. Like your mother.”
“Why are you here?” Ailean asked Bram. “I thought you were on your way to Alsandair.”
“I thought Ghleanna should see Mum before we left,” Addolgar explained, while he brushed dirt and leaves off his clothes. “I heard from her last night.” Being able to talk to each other with their minds was the way immediate kin kept in touch. Very important when having to communicate with parents or siblings when a long distance off, but also a way for some kin to nag. Something that Bram was sure annoyed Ghleanna—at least at the moment.
“I’m glad she did.” Ailean looked at his daughter. “She was worried about you.”
“I’m fine.”
“Tell her that then, so she’ll stop pacing the floors.”
Ghleanna’s mother wrapped her arms around her daughter and held her tight. Ghleanna closed her eyes and buried her nose against her mum’s neck. She loved her mother’s scent. It always made her think of home, made her feel safe—and very loved.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Mum. Really.” Ghleanna pulled away and saw the tears in her mother’s eyes. “Oh, Mum. Please don’t cry. I’m fine.”
“I know. I know.” Her mother wiped at her eyes, smiled. “You know how worried I get, though. About all of you. I’m just glad you stopped by.”
“Can’t stay long, though. Just an hour or two.”
“You can eat, though, can’t you?”
“Food!” her brothers cheered, pushing past her and going into the castle they’d been raised in.
“How long are you going to be on the road with that lot?”
“Too long,” Ghleanna told her mum and they laughed.
“Lady Shalin.”
Her mother’s smile was warm. “Bram!” He leaned down and hugged Shalin the Innocent, Tamer of Ailean. “Oh, Bram. I’m so happy to see you. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine, my Lady.”
“Well come in, come in. There’s enough food for all of you.” She took their hands and pulled them into the hall. Like a pack of ravenous beasts, her brothers had already descended on the food that had been put out.
“Like wild dogs,” Ghleanna murmured.
“Not really,” Bram murmured back. “Wild dogs have more manners.”
He smiled and, out of politeness only, Ghleanna smiled in return. Unfortunately, though, her mother caught her smiling and Ghleanna saw those gold eyes widen, her nostrils flare.
“Talk to me about your plans, Bram,” Ailean said as he walked into the hall. “Come back to the war room.”
“You have a war room?”
“Don’t you?”
Ghleanna waited until Bram and her father had walked off—while she tried not to notice her father taking the time to pinch her mother’s hip . . . weren’t they too old for this sort of thing?—before she turned to her mother and said, “Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“You know exactly what I mean, Mum. And you’re going to stop right now.”
Ghleanna started to head to the table, ready to fight her way through her brothers for a scrap of bread, but her mother yanked her back.
“Why not?”
“You must be joking.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing. He’s just . . . just . . .”
“Just what?”
“A peacemaker.” And she’d dropped her voice to a whisper. “What would I do with a peacemaker?”
�
��The same thing I did with a whore.” And Shalin the Innocent sounded highly superior at the moment. “Made him mine.”
“I have no intention of making Bram the Merciful anything. Mine, yours, or ours.”
“Foolish girl! Right in your face. Right there. And has been . . . for years! Yet you continue to ignore what’s right before you, then you whine—”
“I do no such thing.”
“—about worthless scum like Feoras.”
“Mum . . . ”
“Fine. Fine. Don’t listen to your mother who is never wrong. See how far you get.” Then she lifted the hem of her skirt and flounced away. Her mother was an excellent flouncer. A skill Ghleanna had thankfully never learned. Instead she stomped like a proper warrior and threw Hew and Cai away from the table and head-butted Adain so she could get some food.
“This is excellent, Bram. Excellent work.”
“Thank you. I’ve been slaving over it for months.”
“Rhiannon give you a lot of changes?”
Bram shrugged and Ailean laughed, leaning back in his chair. “I wouldn’t worry about it. You’re handling her well. Just stay clear of the boy.”
“I try. She won’t let me. I think she’s trying to get me killed.”
“She’s using you to make her mate jealous. I’m sure she doesn’t want you dead. Although if it happens, I’m not sure she’d lose any sleep over it. But that’s Rhiannon and that’s what you get dealing with monarchs, which is why I don’t.”
He tapped the parchment Bram had given him. “But this, Bram . . . this will get you killed. You do understand that? There are royals who don’t want Rhiannon any more powerful than she already is.”
“But how would killing me stop this? Delay it perhaps but—”
“Your death would make Rhiannon look weak and that will make her even more of a target. Besides, do you think anyone has your skill, Bram? To get dragons of all stripes to meet and agree on terms.” Ailean lowered his head. “Do I need to remind you of exactly how good you are at what you do, boy?”
“No, sir.”
“Good. But I am glad my Ghleanna is traveling with you. You need her protection.”
“It’s too blatant,” Bram admitted, knowing Ailean would understand. “I was trying to keep this quiet. Trying to make it seem . . . of no consequence. But with a good number of your brood escorting me around the Southlands, it’s obvious this alliance will change things.”
“It was already obvious to those who’d give a centaur shit anyway. Trust me, Bram. You’re better off with my girl watching out for you. She’s a solid choice by Bercelak. And her and Addolgar together? A mighty force. Let them protect you. At this point, there can be no subtle.”
Bram relaxed back in his wood chair. “I guess you’re right.”
“Don’t worry, son. What you’re doing is right. That’s all you need to know.”
“Thank you, Ailean.”
“Any time. And feel free to visit more. Perhaps when this is all over.” Ailean handed the parchment to Bram and stood. “I’ve missed you. So has Shalin.”
Bram stood and lifted his gaze up to see the giant blue dragon in human form. “I’ve missed you both as well. And when this is all done, I might take you up on that visit.”
“Good. And you can bring Ghleanna with you.”
Bram slammed the war room door shut before Ailean could walk through it. “Don’t start this again.”
“And don’t you be a fool. You going to let her get away?”
“She doesn’t even notice me, Ailean. She forgets I exist on this planet.”
“And you forget everyone exists on this planet. When you’re working. That’s how it is with my girl. When Ghleanna works, she forgets everything but her troops and who her enemy is. Honestly, Bram, the pair of you were made for each other.”
“I’m not the problem.”
“If you don’t go after what you want, lad, you definitely are the problem.”
Frustrated—and knowing Ailean was right—Bram yanked the door open. “Can we just go please?”
“You were the one who stopped me.”
As promised, the stay was short and within the hour, Ghleanna was hugging her mum good-bye.
“You’re crying again, Mum.”
“Because I’ll miss you.” She pulled away from Ghleanna and reached up so she could hug Addolgar. “I’ll miss all of you.”
“Mum, all we gotta do is babysit this one.” Addolgar said as he pointed at Bram. “Easy job.”
Bram sighed. “Yes. I do adore being equated to a human child.”
After saying good-bye to her sons, Shalin returned to Ghleanna. They gazed at each other for a long moment.
“I love you, Mum.”
“And I you, my daughter.” They hugged again and then Ghleanna quickly turned away before she started to blubber like her mother. But she came face to chest with her father.
“And do I get nothing?” His voice lowered a bit. “Will I be paying for my past forever with you, my Ghleanna?”
Ghleanna looked up at her father. Gods, she adored that face. But still . . . “You do make it so very hard to be your daughter.”
“But worth it, yes?”
“Some days, Da . . . I really don’t know.”
She walked around him and tried to ignore the hurt she heard in his voice when he whispered, “Good-bye, little one.”
Ghleanna walked through the gates that surrounded her family home and toward the clearing where they could take off.
“You all right?” Bram asked her, his long stride matching hers.
“Aye.”
“You know, your father—”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“—he adores you like the suns.”
Ghleanna stopped abruptly, spun to face him. “Did my mother tell you that?”
“No. He did.”
“When? Today?”
“Once, years ago when I’d stopped by to discuss some strategy with a difficult Duke who’d decided dragons needed to be hunted by his army—”
“Why didn’t you just kill the Duke and his army?”
“Which was why I spoke to your father, but that’s neither here nor there. Anyway, you walked in, slammed a blood-covered axe on the table and said, ‘Thanks for the axe, Da. Worked like a charm.’ Then you walked back out and he sighed and said with great pride, ‘I adore that girl like the suns.’ Then we went back to our conversation—with that blood-covered axe sitting there the entire time.” Bram gazed off. “I tried not to take it as an unspoken threat.”
Ghleanna shook her head a little. “Is that really true?”
“I lie when I have to, Ghleanna. Like when I tell people our queen is utterly sane or that ‘No. Of course Bercelak would never kill your offspring while you slept.’ But on something like this? That is not something I’d lie about.”
“You don’t understand. I am judged by my father’s past deeds because, as usual, he didn’t think past his cock. I am Ailean the Slag’s daughter, after all, which to many means I’m no more than a slag myself.”
“You are judged by your father’s past because you allow yourself to be. Because you allow yourself to feel shame for the life he decided to live. How is that Ailean’s fault? Perhaps you should accept him as he is—the way he’s accepted you.”
“Know so much about my family, do you, royal?”
“Well . . . I did live with your parents for a year while I studied alchemy under your mother.”
Ghleanna frowned. “You did? When was that . . . well, don’t walk off mad! It was an innocent question!”
Chapter 5
They flew the rest of the day and late into the night until they reached the outskirts of the city of Baynham. Instead of sleeping outside, though, they all decided to go into town, get some warm food and soft beds.
But it had been someone’s brilliant idea for them all to stay in the pub for the night and share a single room with several beds. There was just one
problem—the Cadwaladr males’ ability to snore in a way that suggested very loud temple construction.
It wasn’t even that Bram was a light sleeper. He wasn’t. Far from it, having slept through all manner of things during the time he traveled the length and breadth of the Southlands for several years. But four Cadwaladr males in one room? That was too much even for him.
They didn’t even snore in unison, but instead created a wall of sound that surrounded him so that Bram could never hope to find sleep anytime soon. After many hours of trying, he finally gave up, pulled on his boots, and slipped out of the room. Once he closed the door behind him, he let out a deep sigh of relief that the thick wood at least blocked a bit of the noise those dragons could make.
“Making a run for it?”
Ghleanna sat on the stairs that led to the next floor of rooms. She had one of her axes in her lap and was sharpening the blade.
“No offense to you, Ghleanna, but that noise—”
“I know. I know. Why did you think I offered to take first watch? Hew’s the worst of the lot, though, with Addolgar a close second.”
He motioned to the steps. “Mind if I join you or are you still mad at me for what I said earlier?”
Ghleanna hadn’t spoken to him since they’d left her father’s lands, and Bram knew he should have stayed out of it—but he couldn’t. Her rage at her father was unwarranted and for some reason none of her kin would tell her so.
In answer to Bram’s question, however, Ghleanna simply moved over a bit and placed her axe on the landing behind her.
Bram sat down beside her, and asked, “Too close?” “Not so’s I mind.”
Bram nodded and stared straight ahead. “Any trouble so far tonight?” he asked when the silence began to choke him to death.
“Nay. Quiet as a tomb.”
“Do you think a watch is necessary?”
“If my brother Bercelak is worried for your safety—it’s better to err on the side of caution.”
They sat in silence for a few more minutes until Bram asked, “Is that what taking first watch entails? Sitting around, sharpening your weapons . . . and waiting?”
