by G. A. Aiken
“Do you know because of what you did there are still at least three of your aunts who call me the whore who got between cousins?”
Éibhear stared down at her. “You expect me to believe you allow any of my aunts to keep calling you a whore?”
She shrugged. “Perhaps after a few knife fights at family dinners, they no longer say the words . . . but they’re thinking it. And then you,” she snarled. “After ten years you simply have to apologize? You have to dredge up the past?”
“As a matter of fact, Iseabail, I did apologize earlier.”
“Oh, really? Was I there at the time of this apology? Because I don’t remember it.”
“I apologized in a letter. But my comrades, Aidan and the others, they burned it.”
“A letter? You apologized to me in a letter?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“And when was this letter not sent?”
“Five years or so ago.”
“I see.”
“Look, Izzy, I know you don’t believe me. But I am sorry about what happened. I really am.”
She studied him for a long moment and he waited for what had decidedly become an acid tongue over the years. But then Izzy smiled, patted his shoulder, and said, “And I accept your apology, Éibhear. And thank you for it. It was very kind.”
And with that . . . she walked off.
Éibhear watched her for a moment. “Wait.”
She stopped, faced him. “Aye?”
“That’s it then? You forgive me?”
“Of course I do. Why would I cling to the past?”
“I’m not saying you should. It’s just . . .”
“Just what?” She walked back to his side. “It’s over, Éibhear. You’ve apologized. That’s all that matters. Besides, I wouldn’t hold that against you as I would never expect you to hold such things against me. We were young . . . foolish. It’s the past; let’s leave it there.” Concern showed on her brow. “But you should know that Brannie tells me Celyn may be coming to Garbhán Isle in the next few days. I hope you two will make up as well if you haven’t already. He’s your cousin and family is all, Éibhear. Never forget that.” She turned and headed back to the others. “I’m so glad we’re all done with that.” She spun on her heel, facing him as she walked backward. “Although I wish I could have read your letter. I’m sure it was beautiful.”
Then Iseabail was gone and Éibhear was left with nothing but what even he’d call his own paranoid thoughts and a mass of wet fur and muscle that was flying at his head and knocking him out completely.
“What did you do?” Izzy asked her dog while she worked so very hard not to laugh. And gods, did she want to laugh.
But in answer, all Macsen did was roll to his back, paws up in the air, overly long tongue hanging out of his mouth. That was not a pretty sight, but she loved it just the same.
Izzy returned to Éibhear’s side, crouching next to him. She leaned over and looked into his face. “Éibhear?” She tapped his shoulder. “Éibhear?” She cringed and glanced back at his dog. “He won’t be happy with you, Lord Sneak-Attack.”
She brushed the hair off Éibhear’s face and studied his forehead. He had a bit of a knot there, from when he’d hit the ground, but she doubted there was any real damage done. According to her mother, the males in Éibhear’s bloodline had notoriously hard heads.
Resting her arm on her knee, Izzy pointed out, “At least you’re still devastatingly handsome, you letter-sending bastard.” She shook her head and looked at Macsen, who was now right next to her. “A letter? What am I? His granny?”
Macsen leaned over Éibhear’s head, drool pouring on the dragon’s face.
Many of Izzy’s troops had asked her why she’d kept the dog around. He smelled, he drooled, he ate things he really shouldn’t; plus he snarled and snapped for no obvious reason, and had bitten off a hand or two because those particular hands had gotten too close to his food bowl or a rotting carcass he’d dragged back to camp. But Izzy always rewarded loyalty and Macsen was loyal. Blindingly so.
Éibhear coughed and grimaced, his hands wiping at his now wet face. He lifted his head, silver eyes narrowing on Macsen, then her. “I hate that dog.”
Izzy, trying to comb her fingers through Macsen’s always-matted hair, laughed. “The feeling is mutual, I think. But don’t worry, he’ll get used to you now that we are friends again, you and I.”
The dragon sat up, growling low at her words, but Macsen backed up a bit and growled in return, fangs bared.
When she saw Éibhear’s brow lower, she quickly warned, “One flame touches this dog and you will be sorry.”
“Then get control of it.”
She laughed and stood. “Yeah. Right.”
Still laughing, Izzy returned to the others.
Éibhear watched Izzy walk off—laughing.
What in the holy hells was going on with her? He didn’t believe for a second she’d meant any of that forgiveness she’d so gallantly laid at his feet. Not the Izzy he remembered. Was she merely trying to placate him? Why? She wasn’t known for placating anyone except maybe his . . .
His brothers.
Disgusted at the thought, Éibhear got to his feet and used the bottom of his fur cape to wipe the dog drool from his poor, defenseless face.
Izzy always placated his brothers, especially Briec and Fearghus. And then, of course, there was his father, Bercelak. Izzy was the reigning queen when it came to placating his father. But Éibhear wasn’t his father, nor his brothers. He didn’t want to hear what Izzy thought he wanted to hear. He wanted the truth. He wanted . . . well, it didn’t matter. He just knew he didn’t want this . . . this centaur shit of platitudes.
Family is all? Really?
Deciding they weren’t nearly done with this whole thing, Éibhear started to head back to the others. But before he could take the first step, he noticed Izzy’s dog charging right at him—again—teeth bared, eyes wild.
Gods, really?
“Everything all right?” Brannie asked, her voice low so only Izzy could hear.
“Of course. All’s forgiven.” Then she grinned. “Family is all, you know.”
Brannie briefly closed her eyes before stating, “Oh, that’s brilliant.”
They giggled until Éibhear’s comrade Aidan walked up to them. “Everything all right?”
The females nodded. “Aye.”
His light eyes narrowed a bit, but Izzy, sensing that Aidan was much smarter than the other two Mì-runach accompanying Éibhear, glanced around and called out for her dog.
“Macsen? Macsen!”
“He’s coming.” Éibhear walked out of the woods.
“What do you mean he’s coming?”
“Give him a second.” He stepped back and she watched as Macsen happily dragged a large bear into the clearing.
“Oh, not again,” Brannie sighed.
Aidan blinked. “Again? How often does he attack bears?”
“He likes bear,” Izzy admitted.
“It came up behind me,” Éibhear explained, “and this one went for him like a bone.”
Brannie pointed at the bear. “Macsen took that down by himself?”
A valid question. Macsen enjoyed challenging bears, but it was usually Izzy or her troops who ended up taking down the bear so that the dog could eat his full.
Éibhear walked closer, leaned in, and whispered, “Not really. I could see the bear was not happy and about to tear the dog apart so I just sort of”—he shrugged—“punched him while the dog wasn’t looking. Bear’s out cold. We should probably go before he wakes up.”
“Why are you whispering?” Brannie whispered.
“Just look at him.” He glanced back at Macsen. “He’s so proud of himself. I couldn’t take that from him.”
Brannie rolled her eyes and walked around her cousin, slinging her pack over her shoulder.
“What?” he asked when Izzy continued to stare at him.
“Nothing.” She star
ted laughing and couldn’t stop, walking after her friend. “Nothing at all.”
Chapter 9
They traveled late into the evening, finally stopping in a valley another few hours away from Garbhán Isle.
As a group, they silently ate dried beef and bread, pulled out their bedrolls, and went to sleep.
The next morning, when Éibhear woke up, he was alone. Since he found no signs of blood or body parts, he assumed everyone was alive somewhere.
Éibhear ate more of the dried beef and bread, already thinking about the food he’d get once he returned to Garbhán Isle. It was something he’d missed greatly while living mostly in the north. Although the Ice Landers did use some interesting seasonings and well-cooked, rich food was the one indulgence they allowed themselves in their harsh world. Still, it’s not like he could enjoy that Ice Lander home cooking very often when he and his squad spent much of their time buried under ice and dirt, waiting for the right time to strike at some unsuspecting tribe leader.
Aye. It would be good to have a bit of a holiday. It would be good to see his kin . . . well, it would be good to see his mother and the mates of his brothers. That would be good.
Once he finished eating, Éibhear discovered he was no longer alone, but his company was only that damn dog. Where exactly was everyone else?
The dog circled around, finally sidling up to him, his eyes on the remainder of Éibhear’s beef.
“I should let you starve,” he told the beast. “Just for the snoring that you tormented us with last night, I should let you starve.”
But he ended up giving it a few pieces of beef instead. Simply because he didn’t want to hear Izzy complain if the dog died before they made it back to Garbhán Isle. He really didn’t want to hear her complain.
“Where is everyone anyway?” he asked the dog once he was done eating.
It jumped back like a rearing horse, spun around, and ran a few feet away, came back, stared at Éibhear.
Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to follow, that’s what Éibhear did. The dog led him up a steep incline until he found his fellow Mì-runach standing at the very top beside a large tree and looking over the other side to the land below.
Without saying a word, Éibhear walked up behind them and stood. They were tall, but he was taller and he only had to go slightly up on his toes to see what they were looking at.
One look at the lake beneath had Éibhear dropping back on his heels and shaking his head in disgust. Disgust! These bastards!
“You know,” he barked at them, enjoying the way they all jumped a bit, “that’s my brother’s daughter you’re eyeing, you disgusting bastards.”
Uther frowned. “I thought she was your cousin.”
“Oh, oh.” Caswyn punched Uther in the shoulder, his gaze still locked over the ridge. “There she goes again.”
All three refocused on the lake and Éibhear felt his lip curl, fangs starting to ease out of his gums. How dare they! She was his brother’s . . .
Brannie flew up past the ridge they all stood on, black wings extended from her back, black scales shining in the early-morning suns, and his comrades watching every move she made.
“Look at that tail,” Uther sighed.
“I think it’s a little short,” Aidan complained.
“You’re all watching Brannie?” Éibhear asked. “Really?”
They didn’t bother answering him since they were still busy staring at her, but he didn’t really see what they seemed to see. She was just . . . Brannie.
His cousin flipped over and dived back toward the lake. Éibhear heard Izzy squeal and he looked over the edge to see her trying to swim back to shore.
Brannie landed in the lake hard, the water exploding out and sending Izzy racing to land. Éibhear was convinced she’d drown or worse, but by the time she rolled naked across the ground, the water retreating, she was laughing hysterically.
“You mad cow!” she yelled around her laughter.
Brannie was laughing, too, while floating on her back in the still-sloshing water.
Izzy managed to sit up. She seemed completely comfortable naked, and he understood why. She was perfect. Long body, powerful legs, strong shoulders, and scars across her back, torso, chest, and even her inside thighs. Yet she still moved with grace and strength, getting to her feet easily and stretching her entire body, her arms high over her head, muscles rippling.
“Should you be staring at your niece like that, Uncle Éibhear?” Aidan asked him while Uther and Caswyn continued to lustfully gawk at an unsuspecting Brannie.
“Piss off,” Éibhear growled, moving around the bastard he sometimes called friend.
“Gods, look at the breast scales on her,” Uther muttered about Brannie.
Still disgusted and pissed off in general, Éibhear rammed the big oaf’s head into the tree he stood next to before heading back to camp. “We’re moving out in ten minutes.”
Izzy was trying to reach the clothes that Brannie had annoyingly put on a high branch.
“You are such a bitch!” she yelled at her laughing cousin, who was back in her human form, dressed, and running back to camp.
Izzy jumped again, hoping to reach her damn leggings without being forced to climb the damn tree. The vision of her splayed naked across that branch did nothing but make her feel uneasy.
Her fingers nearly touched the leggings, but she just missed them, growling when her feet again landed on the ground.
She was eyeing the tree, trying to figure out the best way up, when an incredibly large arm reached around her and grabbed her clothes. Her first instinct was to cover herself with her arms, or at the very least cover her tits. As her mother had always warned her, she’d been a late bloomer. Now she usually kept her chest bound around her troops. But she didn’t want to give Éibhear the satisfaction of seeing her embarrassed. So she planted her hands on her hips and smiled up at him.
“I think,” he said, “that you need to remember you and Brannie aren’t alone on this trip.”
“Why do you think she put my clothes in the tree? She knows your dirty friends were watching.” Izzy took the clothes from him. “Thanks.”
“Perhaps you two have spent too much time together.”
“Aunt Ghleanna has said that more than once.” Izzy dropped her clothes and began to get dressed with Éibhear right there. He frowned but didn’t say anything. He also didn’t turn away. “She says I’m a bad influence on her daughter. Me. A bad influence on Branwen the Awful. I’m not sure how she comes to that conclusion.”
“Probably because you get my cousin drunk and she just wakes up in the middle of your insane centaur shit.”
“That could be part of Ghleanna’s argument.” She finished pulling her chain-mail shirt over her head and shook her wet hair out.
“You know,” Izzy said, stepping closer to Éibhear and placing her hand on his chest. “I’m so glad we made up and that we’ve put the past behind us.”
“Uh.” Éibhear looked down at her hand and then at her face. “Yeah. Me, too.”
“Now we can be the proper uncle and niece that the family has always wanted us to be.”
The dragon blinked, his body going stiff. “Uncle and niece?”
“Proper uncle and niece. That must be such a relief for you. Not to have some child running around trying to stroke your hair.” She laughed a little, patting his chest. “Thank you for being so patient with me back then. It must have been very hard.”
“Well, no, it was—”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s the past. Now we’re family. Kin. My wonderful Uncle Éibhear.” On a whim, she went up on her toes and kissed him on the chin since she couldn’t quite reach his cheek without more effort.
Then she walked away and headed back to camp. She was almost there when Brannie stepped out from behind a tree and yanked her over.
Her friend stared at her. “Uncle Éibhear?” she whispered.
Izzy chewed her lip. “Too much?”
Bent
over, silently laughing, Brannie shook her head and leaned against Izzy. “You’re the best, you evil bitch!” she managed to squeal and whisper simultaneously. “The best!”
Then the friends held each other and laughed until Éibhear and the Mì-runach called for them so they could return to Garbhán Isle.
Chapter 10
“No. Absolutely not.”
Talaith got up and followed Briec while he stalked around their bedroom.
“I think you’re being unreasonable,” she told him.
“I’m being a father.”
“No. You’re being your father.”
“Well, you don’t have to get nasty,” he tossed back at her, looping around the bed again.
“Just let her spend the day with him. He must like her if he’s still willing to after what you did.”
Briec stopped and spun around to face her. “Of course he still likes her. She’s perfect. She’s—”
“Your daughter. Yes. Yes. We all know. Which means that you should understand exactly how stubborn and difficult your daughter can be when she doesn’t get her bloody way.”
“She’s too young,” he now argued.
“She’s sixteen, Briec. Not a dragon sixteen either, but a healthy sixteen-year-old girl who likes a boy. There’s no shame in that.”
“You want her involved with this . . . this . . .”
Talaith crossed her arms over her chest. “Human?”
“I was going to say cock-haver, but human covers it, too.”
Rubbing her eyes, she paced away from him. “All she wants is to go into town with him. Do a little shopping and have luncheon at the tavern. Not become his wife.”
“No.”
“I’ve already discussed it with Brastias and he says he’ll go with them. You know how protective he is of his niece.”
“Then why can’t I go?”
“Because now when that poor boy sees you, he pisses himself. So that’s not a good idea.”
“Weakness! Why should my daughter be around someone so weak and useless?”
“You could stop her if you’d like—”