by G. A. Aiken
“That’s a good point. And I can’t afford to have my beauty marred any more than it already has been. I mean, look at what that thing did to my face.”
“It’s small.” She reached up and stroked the scar on the bridge of his nose. “I think it’s sexy.”
He laughed, his arms tightening around her waist, pulling her closer. “So tell me, beautiful Iseabail…what do you want for your Claiming?”
“For me to be yours and for you to be mine,” she told him, no longer teasing. “I want no more doubts, Éibhear.”
The dragon lifted his hand, stroked her cheek. “Never doubt. Ever. I love you, Izzy. I’ll always love you.”
“And I love you, Éibhear the Contemptible. Since I first met you and your blue hair—that you wouldn’t let me touch.”
“Not letting that go, eh?”
“No and I never will. But I can overlook it, except when I bring it up during arguments I’m losing.”
Éibhear laughed again and kissed her. As always, it started off soft and sweet, both of them still laughing. Then it changed to passionate and demanding.
“Take me home, Éibhear,” she whispered when she finally managed to pull back. “Take me home and make me yours.”
With his hands under her ass, Éibhear lifted Izzy up. As a naturally tall woman, she now felt like one of the old trees of the forest, so very tall, giggling as she pushed Éibhear’s hair off his face and kissed his nose, cheeks, and forehead.
“One thing, Izzy.”
“Of course.”
Éibhear looked down and Izzy followed his gaze. Macsen sat on his haunches watching them, drool pouring out of his mouth and onto the ground, creating a little mud puddle. It was, in a word, vile.
“We’ll drop Macsen at my neighbor’s for the night,” she offered, knowing he didn’t want to have to fight her dog for Izzy’s attention on such an important night.
“That’s all I ask, Iz,” Éibhear said with a smile while he easily carried her home. “That’s all I ask.”
Chapter 45
Briec walked down the stairs into the Great Hall. He stopped at the dining table, yawning and reaching for one of the warm loaves of bread the servants put out every morning. Although he wasn’t looking forward to another day of fighting between Talaith and her bitch mother, he didn’t know what he’d do once his Rhi left. It was hard enough when his Izzy left, but he knew she’d be back more often than not. However, Rhi and even those despicable twins that he’d secretly grown fond of . . . he had no idea when they’d return from their training.
Tearing a piece of bread off the loaf, Briec wandered over to the partially open Great Hall doors and looked out into the courtyard. It was extremely early and things were just beginning to stir as the two suns rose. But Briec saw them easy enough. Gods, how could he miss them standing there, saying nothing—and staring at the castle.
Briec slammed the doors shut.
“Briec?” Fearghus asked as he walked up behind him. “What’s going on?”
“Where the hell is that idiot?”
“Gwenvael?”
“No.”
“Dad?”
“No. The big blue idiot.”
“I don’t know. Why?”
“The Mì-runach are outside.”
“So. They’re probably looking for the big blue idiot.”
“Not the three he brought with him. All of the Mì-runach. They’re standing in our courtyard . . . waiting.”
Fearghus nodded. “All right. We’ll kill all the females first and then kill ourselves.”
“What’s going on?” Brannie asked as she came down the stairs with Celyn behind her.
“The Mì-runach are outside.”
“They’re probably looking for Éibhear.”
“But we don’t know where he is,” Fearghus said.
“Have you checked Izzy’s house?” Celyn asked.
Briec looked at Fearghus, then back at Celyn.
“Why would we look at Izzy’s house?”
“No reason,” Brannie quickly said.
“Why do you think?” Celyn asked.
“Shut up, Celyn,” his sister told him.
“Brannie, they’re not children. Éibhear and Izzy can do as they like.”
Briec walked over to his young cousin, grabbed him by the throat, and yelled, “Are you saying that bastard is doing what he likes with my perfect, perfect daughter?”
Sighing, Brannie shook her head. “You are such an idiot, brother.”
Izzy turned over and stretched, but immediately regretted that particular decision. Groaning, she slipped out of bed and stood, going across the room to the full-length standing mirror she kept there. She turned to the side and lifted her arm, examining the brand Éibhear had placed on her the night before. She cringed a little. True. She loved it, but she knew when her mother saw it . . . she would not be happy. The brand stretched from the base of her right foot and up the right side of her body until the tail of the dragon brand wrapped around her right breast.
Aye, she adored it, but her mother . . . oy.
Deciding not to deal with it right now, Izzy pulled on leggings, a cotton shirt, leather boots, and her two favorite weapons, strapping them to her back, before stepping outside. She smiled at one of her older neighbors. “Good morn to you, Mistress Sally. Any problems with Macsen?”
“Oh, no. He’s asleep in my rosebushes.”
Izzy winced. “Sorry. I’ll make sure to have some new rosebushes sent to you to replace what he may have destroyed.”
“That’s fine, dear. Just fine.”
Looking around, Izzy asked, “Did you happen to see my friend from last night? He was gone when I woke up.”
“Oh, yes, dear. He was dragged out of here about half an hour ago by your father and his brothers. Kicking and fighting all the way,” she added cheerfully.
Izzy, in the middle of a yawn, nodded. “Great. Thanks so much.”
Heading back inside, Izzy decided to get the tea started. But as she held the kettle in her hand, she suddenly realized what the woman had just told her.
Izzy ran back outside, startling Mistress Sally. “You saw my father do what?”
“Pull that young man out of your house. Bit of a scary one that boy, so I don’t really blame your father. He’s always been so protective of you and your—”
“Which direction did they go?”
“Down toward the river but—”
Izzy didn’t wait for Mistress Sally to finish, she just ran, charging around her neighbors and some Garbhán Isle guards, Annwyl’s troops, and even a few relatives. She ran until she hit the road that would take her to the river.
She heard Brannie call out to her, but she ignored her as well and kept going. Kept going with visions of a bloody and limb-missing Éibhear dancing through her head. Gods! What if they cut off his wings? Or removed his scales? Oh, by the gods, what if they shaved his head? What if they shaved his head? Nooooo!
Izzy had known her father wouldn’t be happy about any of this, neither would Fearghus and Gwenvael, but she’d planned to put it all out in the open once they got Rhi squared away in the Desert Lands.
But for them to find out this way . . . oy!
Izzy cut off into the woods and ran down the hill. But as she neared the river, she stumbled to a stop. Standing there, lifting a battered Fearghus off the ground was some . . . well, she’d guess, Northland dragon scum. Ragnar and his kin might be welcome in the Southlands, but Lightnings who come to beat up Izzy’s family were not. Pulling her sword and axe, Izzy silently charged forward. She was no more than a few feet from the Lightning when he caught sight of her. He dropped Fearghus and reached for his weapon, but Izzy was already swinging at him with her axe. She didn’t make contact, though, because a heavy hammer slammed into her weapon, forcing it to the ground. The power of that hit radiated up her arm and she had to drop the axe. But she still had the sword. She spun and slashed the sword. The Lightning blocked it, but Izzy forced him back.
Another Northlander came at her from behind, so Izzy went low, cutting the back of the hammer-wielder’s leg. He cried out and dropped to one knee. Izzy quickly stood and brought her knee up into the Lightning’s face. Her opponent fell back and she snatched the hammer off him. Now brandishing two weapons again, Izzy turned and . . . stopped dead. The Lightnings had multiplied rather quickly, going from about four to forty or so. They all stood watching her with the hoods of their fur capes covering their faces, their weapons out and ready to use.
Izzy took a step back, briefly studied the Lightnings—then she attacked. Charging at the closest one. But before she reached him, she sensed someone behind her and changed direction, running toward a small boulder. She ran at it until she could place her foot against it, shoved off to give her some height, and spun in midair. Which was about where that big arm snatched her out of the air and held her.
“Izzy!” Éibhear’s voice practically screamed at her. “What the bloody hells are you doing?”
Realizing it was Éibhear, Izzy relaxed. “These Lightnings attacked Fearghus.”
Éibhear rolled his eyes. “No. I beat up Fearghus, along with Briec and Gwenvael. And before you say anything, they started it. And these aren’t Lightnings. They’re the rest of the Mì-runach. Mum wants them to escort Rhi into the Southlands.”
“Oh! Oh.” Cringing, Izzy looked at the dragon whose leg she’d cut. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right.” The dragon got to his feet. “It’ll heal.”
Éibhear put her on the ground. “Lads, this is General Iseabail. Iseabail . . . these are the lads.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said, returning to the dragon whom she’d not only cut but whose hammer she’d stolen. She handed it back to him. “Nice. Rhona’s work?”
“Aye.” The dragon shook his head. “I can’t believe you lifted it on your own.”
“Well, that was . . . Daddy!” Izzy ran over to a tree no more than twenty or so feet away, where her poor father hung over one of the lower branches. “Éibhear the Contemptible, you get my father down from there!”
“He started it!”
“Oy—” Gregor the Appalling motioned Éibhear over. “That her then? That your Izzy?”
Aidan had been filling the rest of the Mì-runach in on what had happened in the Desert Lands, somehow managing to mention Éibhear’s change in status as now mated. Éibhear wasn’t sure how far the details had gotten before his three brothers had dragged him down to the river, not far from the rest of the Mì-runach. His brothers didn’t know the Mì-runach had set up camp here, but it didn’t matter. His comrades wouldn’t interfere in a sibling fight anyway, not that Éibhear needed them to. Not once he knew that the four brothers were far enough away from Izzy’s house that he didn’t have to worry about her protecting Briec.
“Aye. That’s her.”
“She carried my lovely girl.” Gregor held up his “lovely girl”—his hammer. It was not a healthy relationship Gregor had with his favorite weapon. No. Not healthy at all.
“I saw.”
“I bet that thing ain’t even that heavy,” a new, untested recruit challenged. “If some girl can pick it up.”
To see if the lad had a point, Gregor threw his hammer at the recruit’s head, splitting his skull open, and leaving the lad moaning in pain on the ground.
“Guess it’s heavy enough then,” Gregor reasoned.
“I think so,” Éibhear agreed.
“Hey.” Gregor smiled at him. “Why don’t we take your girl to find something to eat? So she can get to know us a bit.”
That actually sounded like a good idea. These were the kind of warriors Izzy was most comfortable around anyway.
“Izzy,” Éibhear called to his mate. “Let’s go get something to eat.”
“What about Daddy and the others?”
“They’ll live.” Éibhear tilted his head. “Come on.”
Her lips pursed, Izzy briefly debated, but after less than a minute, she ran to Éibhear’s side. “I am hungry.”
He put his arm around her. “Mì-runach!” he bellowed so they could all hear him. “We go to eat!”
The Mì-runach cheered and headed toward town. Éibhear started to follow, but Izzy pulled away from him and ran back to his brothers.
“Sorry, Daddy,” she said to Briec before she put her hand against his forehead and shoved him off the tree limb he’d been hanging off.
Once done, she ran back to Éibhear’s side and put her arm around his waist. “Sorry,” she said when they began walking again. “I just couldn’t leave him like that.”
“It’s all right. It’s nice that someone cares about those mean bastards.”
“I won’t say it’s easy . . . but they are family.”
Chapter 46
Éibhear watched his kin say good-bye to Rhi and the twins. It tore his heart, knowing how hard it was. But they all knew it had to be done. Although it wasn’t clear yet what the future held for the three, he knew they had to get ready for whatever was heading their way.
The plan at this point was quite simple. They’d all leave together, but once on the main road, Éibhear, Izzy, the Mì-runach, and Izzy’s birth family would head to the south, while the Kyvich would take the twins north. Talan would split off from his sister and meet the monks somewhere in the Northlands and then take a secret route to their monastery far past the Sovereign Provinces. The rest of Éibhear’s kin, including his brothers, sisters, parents, and Cadwaladr Clan, would stay in Dark Plains. They all seemed to know that for them to stretch this good-bye out any more would only make it more painful.
What Éibhear and Izzy would do after that he didn’t know. They were now mated for life, and no other female would ever be able to fill his heart the way Izzy did. But they were still warriors and the need for battle and blood would last for a long time. Still, Éibhear knew that his Aunt Ghleanna and Uncle Addolgar had managed life with their mates just fine over the centuries, so why couldn’t he and Izzy?
Haldane, sitting on her horse, sighed again loudly. “Can we please get on the road?” she said over the wailing of Rhi and Talaith, who were clinging to each other while Briec patted their backs and rolled his eyes.
Izzy pulled out her sword and started down the stairs toward her grandmother, but Éibhear quickly caught her and pulled her into his arms.
“You have to calm down,” he warned her quietly.
“I kill her now, my worries are pretty much resolved.”
“We have a bigger issue.”
“Which is?”
“Annwyl.”
Izzy glanced over at her queen. “She is being a little quiet.”
“A little?”
Finally, Rhi pulled away from her mother. “I’ll miss you, Mum.”
“You, too. But I’ll be coming to visit. I promise. And don’t let those horrid bitches turn you against your kin.”
“Of course I won’t! Never!”
The sobbing started again and the pair started to throw themselves into each other’s arms, but this time Briec stepped between them and led Rhi down the stairs and to the horse Izzy had picked out for her. He helped his daughter mount the mare, then kissed her cheek.
“We’re only a thought away, my sweetest girl. Please don’t ever forget that.”
“I know, Daddy. And I won’t.”
Now that Rhi was safe on her horse Talan hugged the women of his family. Rhiannon, Morfyd, Keita, Talaith, and Dagmar. Finally, he stepped in front of his mother. “I love you, Mum.”
“I love you, too.”
He hugged her, kissed her cheek. “You’ll hear from me soon.”
“Good.”
He went down the stairs toward the mare waiting for him. Éibhear had picked out a stallion for him, but it kept throwing the boy, so they’d finally settled on one of the big battle mares. The situation told Éibhear a lot about his nephew.
“Talwyn!” the boy called out. “Let’s go.”
Talwyn walked out of the Great
Hall. She hugged her father, grandfather, and Gwenvael, nodded at her aunts, grandmother, and her mother. Then she went down the stairs and hugged Briec. But instead of getting on the horse Izzy had chosen for her, she went to the Kyvich and waited for her next orders.
The Nolwenns snorted in disgust—it was official, the Kyvich and the Nolwenns really did loathe each other—and Annwyl’s hands curled into tight fists.
Izzy glanced at Éibhear and then went right to her queen’s side, Aidan moving next to Éibhear’s.
“Mount up, Kyvich!” ordered Bryndís, second in command to Ásta.
“Wait,” Annwyl called out. She walked down the stairs, Izzy right behind her. The Southland Queen went to her daughter and wrapped her arms around her. At first, Talwyn just stood there, her arms at her sides. But then, after a moment, she hugged her mother back. The pair held each other tight.
Annwyl stepped back, pushing her daughter’s never really combed hair out of her face. She kissed her forehead and smiled. Then, without another word, Annwyl released her only daughter, turned, and walked away.
“There’s no need to worry, Queen Annwyl,” Ásta said to her. “You’re doing the right thing. Talwyn will finally be where she belongs. With the Kyvich.”
“Ásta really thinks this is a good idea?” Aidan asked Éibhear.
“Apparently.”
Annwyl faced Ásta. “She’s my daughter. She’ll always be my daughter.”
“No one said that would change. But you have to know this is for the best. You have to know that—”
Éibhear and Aidan cringed when Annwyl’s fist collided with Ásta’s face. Bone shattered and blood spurted, the warrior witch stumbling to the side but not falling.
“I feel better now. Thank you.” Annwyl looked at her daughter. “I love you, Talwyn.”
Her daughter smiled. “I love you, Mum.”
Turning away, Annwyl headed up the stairs until she reached Fearghus. She took his hand with her own and he kissed the back of her bloody and bruised knuckles.
Wiping the blood from her nose with her forearm, Ásta nodded at her second in command and headed toward her horse.