A Tale Of Two Dragons

by Aiken G. A.

  Braith’s words were cut off because Addolgar had wrapped his claw around her snout, keeping it closed.

  “Pathetic?” he asked. “Weak? You? After what you’ve just been through? You held your head up the entire time. You never showed Addiena or Brigida your fear. A fear you had every right to have. So don’t talk centaur shit to me about you being pathetic or weak. I won’t hear it. I won’t tolerate it. And once you understand that, you and I will get along just fine.”

  He released her snout. “Now what do you have to say?”

  “I . . . um . . .” She swallowed tears of gratitude, unwilling to be even more of a mess in front of Addolgar. “I’m thirsty.”

  He grinned. “So am I. Let’s get some water from the lake and figure out what our next steps should be. Sound like a plan to you?”

  Braith nodded. “A very good plan.”

  “Excellent!” He gripped her claw in his and pulled her toward the lake. “And I stole some oxen jerky out of Bercelak’s bag. He makes the best oxen jerky.”

  “Bercelak the Vengeful cooks?”

  “Aye. And he’s surprisingly good at it, too!”

  They traveled late into the night until they could go no farther. Exhausted, they finally stopped near a town. Addolgar would prefer to stay in the woods for the night, but they were in a more densely populated area, filled with humans. So whether they stayed in the woods or not, they’d have to do it as human or risk some farmer or late-traveling merchant stumbling across two sleeping dragons. It was not a good way to start the day, in his estimation. Burning a bunch of humans crispy for nothing more than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. True, Bercelak would do it, but he had little to no tolerance when it came to humans. He thought they should all burn. Or, at the very least, be nothing more than cattle for dragon meals.

  They shifted to their human forms and dug into their travel bags for their clothes.

  With a comical little expression on her face, Braith pulled out the clothes Ghleanna had put together for her. She held them up for Addolgar to see.

  “Your sister seems to have a love of chain mail.”

  Addolgar chuckled. “She’s Cadwaladr. All my sisters love chain mail except Maelona, who has no desire to pick up a blade or an ax. Never has.” He studied her as she slipped the clothes on. They fit her, but barely. Especially around the shoulders. She moved her arms, trying to stretch the material out a bit.

  “Have you thought about getting in some military training?” he asked as he pulled on his own clothes.

  She shrugged. “Actually . . . I have. But my father was against it. He said royals shouldn’t lower themselves to being a military force.”

  “Some of the best kings and queens the Southland dragons have had fought in battle. Addiena’s mother was a battle mage for many years before she took the throne.”

  “I don’t disagree with you, but—”

  “Your father no longer matters in your future, Braith. Once we’re done with this, it’ll be all down to you.”

  She sighed. “I still don’t know how I’m going to do this, Addolgar. Turn in my own father?”

  “I’ll be right by your side.” He tugged on his boots, then added, “In fact, let’s think of this a different way.”

  “And what way is that?”

  “Instead of you bringing in your father . . . you’re retrieving Lady Katarina, while I’m bringing in your father.”

  “And what does that word play actually do, Addolgar?”

  “Take the pressure off. You think too much of words,” he explained while he stood. “They have all this meaning for you.” Addolgar reached down and grasped her hands, lifting her to her feet. “So use all that meaning to your benefit. I’ll bring in your father while you’ll bring in Katarina. Now, what about your brothers?”

  “What about them?”

  “We should probably bring them in, too, or Addiena will just send us out again.”

  “Don’t worry. Where my father goes, my brothers will go. They’ve never been able to think on their own.”

  “That’s sad.”

  “My mum tried to help them, but since hatching they’ve been loyal to my father. Plus they’re rather stupid.”

  “And you’ve been loyal to your mum.”

  “From the beginning to the end of time, I’ll be loyal to my mum.”

  “I don’t blame you. She did a good job teaching you to fight.”

  “She did?”

  “Braith, you may not be ready to ride into battle”—yet—“but you’ve got basic hand-to-hand combat techniques down pretty well from what I’ve seen. You took out Bercelak.” He leaned down until their noses nearly touched. “Bercelak. Only Ghleanna and a few of our older sisters can take him in a fight.”

  “He doesn’t like fighting females?”

  “Bercelak will fight anyone. But my sisters are like you. Strong, fierce . . . a little heartless.”

  “He started it.” She glanced down. “You going to let my hands go, Addolgar?”

  “If you insist.”

  She looked off, thought a moment. “Well, you should keep holding at least one. I wouldn’t want to get lost on the way into town.” She briefly chewed her lip, still wouldn’t look him in the eye. “I’ve never been here before.”

  Doing his best not to smile too widely at that, Addolgar released her left hand but kept hold of her right. And, without much else said, they headed into town, hand in hand.

  They walked into the pub. A dark, dastardly-looking place that Braith normally wouldn’t do more than tear apart with her claws.

  Even worse, as soon as they stepped inside, the entire place fell silent, all eyes turning toward them, watching them with suspicion.

  Braith pulled her hand out of Addolgar’s and curled both hands into fists beneath her fur cloak, ready to battle her way out of here if necessary. But then Addolgar pulled the hood of his own cloak back, tossed his silver hair off his face, and the entire room went up in a cheer.

  “Addolgar!”

  “Hello, all!” Addolgar called out in return.

  He took Braith’s hand again, his fingers easily separating hers so that she no longer had a fist, and led her into the pub. There were more greetings all around. Cheerful pats on the back, and hugs from the females, a few handshakes as they passed through.

  Addolgar finally stopped by a table. He stepped behind Braith and took off her cloak, placing it on the bench beside her. He took off his own and then sat on the other side. A barmaid walked up to the table with four big mugs of ale. She slammed them down on the table. “From your fans,” she giggled, winking at him.

  Grinning, Addolgar pulled three ales closer to himself and pushed one toward Braith.

  “We have Mum’s stew tonight,” the barmaid said.

  “Say no more,” Addolgar told her.

  “And bread?”

  “You have to ask?”

  The barmaid winked at him again and focused on Braith. “You as well, miss?”

  “Aye, please.”

  She nodded and walked off. Braith watched the girl for a bit before looking at everyone else.

  “We’re safe here, Braith. You can stop looking so worried.”

  “You spend a lot of time here?”

  He shrugged and gulped from one of the mugs of ale. “I’ve been here over the years. I travel a lot.”

  “Yes, but they seem to . . . know you so well.”

  “I like meeting strangers. You never know what you’ll learn. What you’ll discover.”

  She leaned in. “But all these humans?”

  “You don’t like humans?”

  “I don’t dislike them. But I don’t trust them either.”

  That made Addolgar laugh. “I don’t trust anybody except me own kin. But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy others’ company. Everyone has a fascinating tale to tell if you’re willing to listen.”

  The barmaid returned, placing large bowls of delicious-smelling stew in front of them along with
several platters of fresh, warm bread.

  “Need anything else, you just let me know.”

  “Thanks, Mary.” Addolgar ripped off a large chunk of bread and began devouring that first bowl of stew. He didn’t speak while he ate. He just ate. And before he’d even finished that first bowl, Mary brought another, and then another. All of which Addolgar ate. More bread was brought and he devoured that as well.

  Braith, however, was satisfied with two of the large bowls of stew and one large loaf of bread to appease her human appetite.

  By the time she finished her second bowl, Addolgar had finished his fourth and was leaning back to sigh contentedly.

  “Good, eh?” he asked, that smile on his face.

  “Very.”

  “Mary’s mum runs this place. She makes the best stew. Ale’s good too.” To prove that, he finished off his third mug of ale, only for Mary to bring four more.

  “Dessert?” Mary asked.

  “What ya got?”

  “Me mum’s raisin and ale cake.”

  “Bring it.”

  Laughing, Mary walked off and Addolgar rested his elbow on the table and his chin in the palm of his hand.

  “You all right?” he asked her.

  “I’m fine. I was hungrier than I thought.”

  “You haven’t eaten in a couple of days. And it’s been a rough couple of days.”

  Braith placed her hands on the table and leaned in a bit. “Addolgar.”

  “Hhmm?” he asked, smiling down at the desserts Mary placed in front of them. “You should try this,” he told Braith. “Mary’s mum makes a great raisin and ale cake.”

  Braith glanced down at the cake—it did look good—and back at Addolgar.

  “Addolgar . . . I don’t know how I can thank you.”

  “Thank me? For what?” he asked around a mouthful of cake.

  “Putting your family at risk? Helping me with the Queen? Protecting me from Bercelak?”

  “You protected yourself from Bercelak.”

  “Addolgar,” she felt the need to remind him, “the Queen is holding your sister hostage.”

  Addolgar blinked, nodded. “Uh-huh.”

  Braith frowned. “Yet you don’t seem too worried about her.”

  “If it were Maelona, I’d never have allowed it. I’d have torn the walls of Devenallt Mountain down before I let her take Maelona. So would the rest of my kin.”

  “But Ghleanna . . . ?”

  “If the Queen wants to have Ghleanna and Bercelak staying at Devenallt Mountain while you and I track your father down—that’s her decision. And I wish her much luck with it.” He pointed at Braith’s cake with his spoon. “You going to eat that?”

  Chapter 11

  “You staying here for the night, Addolgar?” Mary asked. “Me mum wants to know.”

  “Aye,” he said, after glancing at an exhausted-looking Braith. “We’ll take a room. Is the one on the top floor open?”

  “It is. But it’s extra.”

  “We’ll take it.”

  “Let me check it first, make sure it’s been cleaned right. I’ll let you know when you can come up.”

  “Thanks, Mary.”

  Mary headed to the back stairs and Addolgar again focused on Braith. “Stop worrying,” he ordered her.

  “Who says I’m worrying?”

  He rolled his eyes in answer and Braith gave a small sigh.

  “I can’t help it,” she finally admitted. “I can’t believe my father has done this. And for what? He could never rule the Southland dragons. Not as a monarch. Being an Elder was the most he could ever hope to be. And he should be proud of that.”

  “Perhaps he thinks he’s saving his people. There are many who don’t feel right with Addiena on the throne.”

  “But she is. And she has been for nearly a century.” Braith rested both her arms on the table. “What I can’t figure out, though, is what Lady Katarina has to do with any of this.”

  “Perhaps he hopes to use her father’s army to challenge Addiena. It would be a bold move, but her father’s army is strong. They have to be since they are all that lies between us and the Irons.”

  “I thought the fear was that he’d side with the Irons.”

  “He could, but he’d be foolish to try. The Irons see themselves as superior to everyone. In their minds, they only answer to the gods. So betraying Lord Berg would mean nothing to them. And he knows that.”

  “But if Lord Berg challenges Addiena, won’t he have to face the Cadwaladrs in battle? I’ve always heard that’s what keeps many challengers for the throne from our borders.”

  “Using our name will stop those who talk a lot about claiming the throne but really have no true heart for it. But those who truly want it, like Overlord Thracius in the West or the Horde leaders in the Northlands . . . the Cadwaladrs are merely something to figure out how to defeat. All we manage to do with the likes of them is keep them back until they have enough forces to move.”

  Braith placed the palms of her hands against her eyes, her exhaustion and frustration beginning to grow. “I just wish I knew what he was doing. Who he was working with. My father does nothing on his own.” She dropped her hands and looked Addolgar straight in the face. “He’s not a brave dragon.”

  “What about your mum?”

  “The bravest I knew.”

  Addolgar finally asked the question that had been bothering him for most of the day. “Why are you not close to your mum’s kin?”

  “My mother saw me as a Penarddun, but her kin see me as my father’s daughter. And they want even less to do with him.” She shook her head, glanced off. “As always, I’m on my own.”

  “Not anymore you’re not. You have the force of the Cadwaladr Clan behind you. That’s more than most will ever be able to say.”

  “I still wish we hadn’t involved your family. If one of them gets hurt or . . . if anything happens to your kin, Addolgar . . .”

  “Nothing will happen. And you seem to think you’ve somehow forced us into this. Or as if we’re doing it out of pity. The Cadwaladrs don’t feel pity. Not for each other. Not for anyone.”

  “Then why are any of you helping me?”

  “My father’s doing it because you won him lots of money. Ghleanna’s doing it because she likes knowing another female near her age who can’t quite wear her clothes. Bercelak will say he’s doing it to protect Ghleanna, but really he wants to spend time around Princess Rhiannon, even though we all know he doesn’t have a shot in all the hells with that one.”

  “And you?” she asked, before Addolgar could list the reasons all of his kin would be involved in this. “Why are you doing this?”

  “That’s easy. Because I like you.” He grinned. “I like you a lot.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you make me smile.”

  “You’re Addolgar the Cheerful. Everything makes you smile.”

  “Not everything. And if I want to like you, Braith of the Darkness, I get to like you. Whether you want me to or not.”

  “Why wouldn’t I want you to?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe because I’m not a royal?”

  “Is there anything about me, Addolgar, that says I embrace being a royal? That I live my life as a royal? Anything?”

  Addolgar thought on that a moment before replying, “Not really.”

  “The Penardduns may be royals, but you don’t find any of them living in Devenallt Mountain or attending any of the parties or rituals. My mum hated that stuff. Didn’t see the purpose of it at all. And I have to agree with her. I only attended royal events to keep my father off my back.”

  “So, when this is all over, if Addiena strips you of your title—”

  “As long as I get to go back to my cave and be left alone, I won’t give a flying centaur shit.”

  Addolgar glanced up and saw Mary wave to him from the stairwell. “Come on.” He took Braith’s hand and led her from the table and to the stairs. They went up the three flights and walked d
own the hallway to the last room. Mary held the door open for them.

  “Think you’ll be needing anything else tonight, Addolgar?”

  “No. We’re fine. But we’ll be up early tomorrow. We’ll need food before our trip. And if you have any bread and meat that can go with us, I’d appreciate that.”

  “Of course. Me and Mum will take care of it.”

  “Thanks, luv.”

  Mary nodded at Braith and walked out, closing the door behind her. Addolgar led Braith across the large room to the fireplace. She immediately held out her hands to warm them and Addolgar took her cloak from her.

  “I’ll make sure to keep the fire going tonight.”

  “All right.”

  “Why don’t you get some sleep, Braith?”

  “I will.”

  He stepped behind her. “I meant now.”

  “I don’t know how you expect me to get any sleep with so much on my mind.”

  “You need to sleep if we hope to get any real traveling done tomorrow.”

  “The territory between here and the Northlands is enormous, Addolgar. My father could be anywhere.”

  “I know his route.”

  Braith faced him. “What do you mean, you know his route?”

  He shrugged. “I heard from Brigida.” He pointed at his forehead. “Up here.” Although he should only be able to do that with his siblings and parents, those rules had never stopped Brigida from popping into anyone’s head whenever she damn well felt like it, no matter her relation to them. Many believed it was because of her powers as a White Dragonwitch that she was able to do so with such ease. Others believed she was a demon who could burrow into anyone’s soul. Addolgar decided to believe the White Dragonwitch angle so he could sleep at night.

  “From here, we head west to the borders between the Southland and Outer Plains. She says we’ll find him there.”

  “Dense forests in those parts. We’ll have to be careful.”

  “You know the area?”

  In answer, Braith only shrugged and walked toward the bed. She stopped before reaching it, spun around, and asked, “Are you sure we shouldn’t leave now to find—”