Last Dragon Standing (14 page)

“There are no problems with elves here in Fenella. Gorlas is his name, and he’s a nice enough chap. One of the few bookstore owners who allows our young brothers to spend hours browsing without making them buy anything.”

“And is there anything else?”

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Simon frowned a bit. “Anything else?”

“Well, when I went in there, I had a”—Ragnar looked up at the ceiling as if trying to get the answer from one of his gods, always nice for dramatic effect when dealing with monks—“
sense
of something. Something beneath the surface.”

Simon pursed his lips. “Well…there are always rumors.”

“Oh? What kind of rumors?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“I’m sure.”

“And you know I don’t like to spread rumor or gossip.”

“Of course not, brother. And I only ask because I sense the gods are trying to tell me something. I’m just not sure what. But I knew if there was one person who could help…it was Brother Simon.”

“Oh. Well.” It was sad, really. How the monk couldn’t resist the compliment. Which was why Ragnar used the man for information, but never returned the favor. At least not with any information that could do any real damage.

Simon leaned forward, and Ragnar did the same. “There have been rumors.”

“Yes?”

“That
that
particular bookstore is a cover for—”

“An orgy den? A prostitution ring? A sex-slave commune?” Simon blinked. “Uh…no.”

Feeling foolish, Ragnar explained, “Sorry. Again, it was that
sense
I got.”

“I understand, but it’s nothing that interesting, I’m afraid, brother.

Actually, the rumors I’ve heard are almost silly, but…I have heard it said that the bookstore is a cover, or a front, you might say…for a guild.”

“A thief’s guild?” Ragnar asked bluntly, thinking of Keita’s constantly growing wardrobe.

“No, no. A spy guild.”

Ragnar sat up straight, his chair making noises that suggested it wouldn’t last much longer, but Ragnar didn’t care. He was too blindsided by Brother Simon’s words. “A spy guild?”

“Aye. But as I said, it’s just a rumor.”

Just a rumor indeed. Yet a rumor that Princess Keita would easily believe. And he knew why, too. Because she probably liked the idea of bedding spies. Spies who could use her to find out information about the courts of the two queens. He wanted to ask, “Could she be so stupid not to see that?” But then he already had the answer to that question, didn’t he?

92

She
was
too stupid to see that.

Ragnar did, however, wonder how far Keita would go to keep her bed filled with “spies.” Would she simply provide information to her lovers or actually search information out? What had she already told? Was Esyld suffering now because her niece had become bed acquaintances with those who would harm her? Ragnar really didn’t know.

Although he did realize that he longed for the days when he didn’t have to deal with the royal Fire Breathers.

Gorlas watched one of his favorite beings pace restlessly around his private office. He clearly remembered when Keita had first wandered into his store. She’d been a bored student then, but with one look, Gorlas knew that sitting at a desk all day, listening to boring old professors give lectures, wasn’t the life for this beauty. Within a few days, the only classes she attended were his. Along with her Eastland friend, Ren of the Chosen. Both of them beautiful, smart, and devious. And considering the path Keita truly wanted to take, it was a perfect match for all of them.

Too bad she continued to forget the most important thing he’d always tried to teach her—her mother was not to be fucked with. Something Keita refused to believe. And now…now she was here.

“What the fuck was Esyld thinking?” Keita demanded. “She couldn’t keep her lovers in the Outerplains? She had to come
here
to meet them?”

“Calm down.”

“I will
not
calm down! Has she lost her mind? Has old age set in early? She’s going to get
both
of us killed!”

“Keita—”

She rested her hands on her hips. “Where?” Keita demanded. “Where was she meeting him? Here? In a rented chateau? At the queen’s favorite human pub? Where was this dumb female settling in to meet her lover so that everyone who reports to my mother could see her clearly? Where, Gorlas?”

“She was staying at Castle Moor.”

Keita gasped, reached back for her chair, and dropped into it. “No!

You must be wrong.”

“That’s where she was sighted by my people. More than once.”

“My aunt was at Castle Moor?”

“I’d assumed you’d sent her there. It’s the one safe place I know when one wants to be discreet.”

“But…” she said, still dazed. “Castle Moor?
My
aunt?” Smirking, Gorlas relaxed back in his chair. “I must say I’m a little 93

surprised by the tone, Keita. Coming from you, I mean.”

“It would surprise no one that
I
have been to Castle Moor…several times. Or that I’m on a first-name basis with your oddly alluring fellow elf, Athol. But Esyld is not me.”

“It is a smart choice.” Castle Moor was far removed from Southland politics and the notice of either the Dragon Queen or her human counterpart, the Mad Queen of Garbhán Isle. For enough coin, anyone looking to have some private time with a lover or lovers could find it at Castle Moor. And Athol, lord of the manor, was well known for keeping his mouth shut.

Gorlas only knew who came and went because he made it his business to know, and he didn’t spread around what he heard.

“I guess that’s true,” Keita said “Do you think she’s there now?”

“It’s possible, but I haven’t exactly been monitoring your aunt.” Perhaps he should have, but he’d never thought the dragoness would be so foolish as to get caught. Now Gorlas wished he’d contacted Keita and told her what he knew, but he thought her aunt simply had desires that needed to be filled. He knew it must be hard to live all alone in the Outerplains with nothing but your herbs, spells, and forest animals to keep you company.

“I’ll need to go there. See if I can find her.”

“How long has it been since you were there last?”

“Ages. Think Athol will mind?”

“Extremely doubtful. He was always quite fond of you.”

“That’s good. Because if my mother finds out about all this, I may have to hide in Castle Moor myself.”

“Will that be such a hardship, my lady?”

“At the moment…yes. Besides, you know I don’t like being trapped anywhere.” Keita rested her elbow on the table, her chin in her palm.

“What else, Keita?” he pushed. He knew she wasn’t telling him everything.

“There is the slightest chance…that Esyld’s lover is a Sovereign.” Gorlas’s heart plummeted. “Oh…Keita.”

“I know,” she sighed. “Because this all couldn’t just be bad, my dear friend. It had to be
very bad
!”

Keita had just turned a corner, heading toward the city gates, when Ren fell into step beside her.

“Well?” she asked, her mind turning.

“The Northlander was right about the necklace. Designed and created by Fucinus himself, most likely.”

Keita stopped walking and stamped her foot. “Fuck me!” she snarled.

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A man walking by with his friends turned toward her and said, “Is that an offer, luv?”

Without taking her gaze off Ren, Keita reached out and grabbed hold of the man’s balls through his trousers. She let heat sear him while she said to Ren, “We have a problem.”

The man began to scream, but Keita didn’t even notice or care. She had more important things on her mind.

Ren slapped her hand off the man’s damaged groin and yanked her down the road until they were well away from the man and his friends.

“Must you take it out on some poor sod because—”

“Because I may have trusted a traitor?” she filled in for him. “And who else would I take it out on?” she asked. “Clearly not myself!” Ren stopped and released her. “I forgot who I’m dealing with. So what’s our problem?”

“Apparently Esyld has been coming into Southland territories for months.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Exactly. She’s been going to Castle Moor.”

The friends stared at each other a moment and then said in unison,

“Moor, Moor, Moor.”

They laughed until Keita said, “It’s not funny.”

“No, no. Not funny.” Ren rested his hands on his hips. “Although, it is Esyld…so that’s a little funny.”

“She was going to meet a lover.”

“Esyld had a lover? A Sovereign?”

“All Gorlas could tell me was that he wasn’t a local.”

“So what do you want to do?”

“We have to stop at Athol’s before we head home.” A shiny black brow peaked. “Do we really have time for that, Keita?”

“I can assure you, I only go there to get my questions answered. My orgy days have
long
been over.”

“Huh. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that before.”

“I can give you lots of reasons why.” She took Ren’s arm in her own, and they slowly headed toward the city gates. “But honestly, my friend, orgies are simply too much work.”

95

Although Meinhard slept under a tree, he still knew what was going on around him at all times. It was a skill he’d been forced to develop since the first day his mother had placed him among his brothers, freshly hatched and vulnerable. More than two centuries later, he still had the skill. So he knew the moment his cousin returned even before he sent the Blue off to get them something for their dinner.

And by the time Meinhard sat up, yawning and scratching his belly, his cousin had told him something that, twenty minutes later, still sounded ridiculous.

“You’re telling us she’s fucking spies?”

“Yes.”

Meinhard simply didn’t understand his cousin. Here before him was a beautiful dragoness, ripe for the plucking, and this idiot was believing tales about Princess Keita and spies. Honestly, what was
wrong
with him?

Although, when Meinhard thought about it, it was enjoyable to see his cousin acting a little less cold and standoffish, and a little more like a true Northlander. Possessive, erratic, and dangerously unstable.

To clarify what Ragnar was telling them, Meinhard asked, “Yes, you know for a fact that she’s fucking spies? Or yes, you
think
she’s fucking spies because you’re being kind of a horse’s dick?”

“What exactly are you having trouble believing about her?” Ragnar demanded. “The spying or the fucking?”

Meinhard looked at Vigholf, and together they replied, “The spying.” Ragnar began rubbing his forehead, and Vigholf said, “Look, brother, we’re not saying the princess hasn’t bedded spies. If they were male, chances are she’s had her way with them. But giving them information?

About her time in the Northlands? About her
mother
? No. I don’t see that.” Ragnar got to his claws and began to pace. “What is this lofty pillar you two have her on?”

“We’re not as snobby as you,” Meinhard told him. “Don’t need proof of virginity for a female to be in my bed. Actually…I’d prefer she wasn’t.

That’s a lot of responsibility.”

“And can be bor-
ing
,” Vigholf sang under his breath.

“This has nothing to do with her virginity or lack thereof,” Ragnar snapped.

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“Then what is it? What is it about her that bothers you so much?” Appearing more and more frustrated, Ragnar came out with, “What she could be getting herself involved in could be dangerous, and she’s not bright enough to see that.”

Meinhard shrugged. “Seems bright enough to me.” Ragnar cleared his throat, and Meinhard and Vigholf again looked at each other.

“Oh, I see,” Meinhard reasoned. “She’s not as smart as
you
.”

“That is not what I’m—”

“Or your precious Lady Dagmar,” Vigholf added.

“We’re not talking about her either.”

“Why don’t you just get it over with?” Meinhard finally asked his cousin.

“Get what over with?” And the bastard had the nerve to look confused.

“Instead of accusing her of all manner of horse shit I’m not sure even you believe—just fuck her.”

Ragnar took a step back. “Pardon?”

“Fuck. Her. Fuck her like you’ve been in Uncle Adalwolf’s dungeons for the last century. Fuck her until your eyes roll to the back of your head and you can no longer walk. Fuck her and get it over with so we can get past this ox shit, dump these royals off, and get back to the Northlands where we belong.”

“And that’s your answer for how to handle this?”

“Handle what, cousin? Other than your overwhelming desire to fuck this female and that ungodsly itch you’ve got going on with your chest, I don’t see anything else to handle.”

“Well,
cousin
, thank you for that evaluation but I have no desire to—”

“What?” Vigholf cut in. “You have no desire to what? Fuck her?

Because we all know you’re bloody gagging for it.”

“I am not!”

“You are such a liar. Does Mum know what a bloody liar you are?”

“And let’s face it, cousin, we all want to fuck her.” And of the three of them, only Ragnar’s eyes narrowed dangerously at Meinhard’s words.
Yes.

Definitely possessive.

“Oh, really?” Ragnar asked.

“Whether it’s that human ass or that She-dragon tail, I’m drawn in.

Both look delicious.”

“And who wouldn’t want both?” Vigholf suggested.

“Exactly. But see,” Meinhard continued, “we’re not the ones gettin’ in 97

your way.
You’re
gettin’ in your way. You’re bloody over-thinking it.”

“Like you do with everything,” Vigholf agreed.

Ragnar’s jaw clenched. “I do not over-think anything.”

“You do, you are, and you’re letting her get away,” Meinhard argued.

“And you’re that sure she just has to have me?” When the cousins went out of their way
not
to look at each other, Ragnar quickly pointed a talon. “What? What aren’t you telling me?”

“We’re telling you,” Vigholf bit out between clenched fangs, “that if you want her, you can get her.”

“And how would you know that? And don’t lie to me.”