Last Dragon Standing (48 page)

Meinhard—he had the longer hair and the slightly bigger head—

looked up and asked, “Think we can we get more food while we’re watching out for you?”

318

Keita landed hard, her shoulder shoved out of place, two of her talons breaking. Groaning, she rolled onto her back, but the rope around her throat, made out of extra-strong steel, tightened and yanked her to her knees.

“Come, come, cousin. I thought you were tougher than this.” Keita had shifted to dragon as soon as her cousin looped the rope around her neck and yanked her off the ground like a sack of grain. Elestren hadn’t taken her far, but she was in a cave she didn’t recognize. It was well lit with torches and multiple pit fires. Something told Keita this was a meeting place. But meeting for what, she probably didn’t want to know.

Elestren grabbed Keita by the hair, snatching her head back. “Did you think you could betray your queen and there would be no repercussions from us, princess?”

When Keita didn’t answer her question, Elestren shoved her forward again. Keita’s head bounced against the floor, and for a few brief minutes, everything went black.

When she woke again, more dragons had arrived. Two Elders and several of the Queen’s Royal Guard. Keita noticed that her father was not among them.

“She’s the queen’s daughter, Elestren,” Elder Teithi was in the midst of arguing.

“And a traitor. She protected Esyld and met with those two idiots we know for a fact are trying to remove the queen from the throne.” Elestren walked around Keita. “I’m not saying she should die. But we can’t allow her to be roaming free, working against us.”

“So what do you suggest?”

“We take her to the desert borders. My cousins will keep her busy at the salt mines until this is straightened out.”
Damn.
Now she understood where she was. The meeting place of the Royal Guard Council. They chose those who earned a place among her mother’s guard—and judged those who broke the guard’s rules. In theory, the Council should only be judging members of the royal guard, not a royal.

But Keita sensed that a real trial was the last thing her cousin would allow at the moment.

“You mean hold her captive.”

“If it keeps our queen safe…”

319

“He blames me,” Izzy said, when she knew she could speak without blubbering.

“Of course he blames you. That’s what they do. As sweet as our Éibhear is, he’s still his father’s son. He’s still male.”

“I should have hit him harder with that shield.” Chuckling, Annwyl dropped to the ground in the middle of the field, and began sharpening her sword with a stone. “I’m still amazed you could pick that bloody shield up.”

“It was just a practice shield.”

“For
dragons
, Izzy. A practice shield for dragons.” Izzy shrugged, gazing across the field and into the surrounding woods.

She sat down beside Annwyl, relieved to be out of the fortress, at least for a little while. Away from Éibhear
and
Celyn.

“It’ll be all right, Izzy.”

“It will never be all right. Those two will make up, and I’ll be relegated to the whore who got between cousins.”

“You think Celyn will walk away from you that easily?” Annwyl grasped Izzy’s chin, tugging until Izzy had to look at her. “Or is that what you’re hoping?”

Frustrated, Izzy shook off her aunt’s hand. “Everyone acts like Celyn is supposed to Claim me as his own now.”

“Is that what you want?”

“No.”

“So it’s what you want from Éibhear.”

Izzy gave a snort of disgust. “I want nothing more than to see the back of him.”

“Is that so?”

“He judged me like he had a right. Like he has some say in my life.”

“You don’t want Celyn. You don’t want Éibhear. What do you want, Izzy the Dangerous?”

Now she looked at her queen without fear or shame, and admitted the truth. “I want to be your squire.”

“I have a squire,” Annwyl said flatly. “He’s fat now.” Shocked, Izzy giggled. “Annwyl!”

“He is. Wonderful with horses, though. My Violence loves him.” She glanced at the enormous black beast calmly grazing on the grass several feet from them. “But my squire’s fat, and that’s because I don’t go anywhere. I don’t do anything. If you become my squire, Izzy, all your talent will go to waste. I won’t have that, luv. Not for you.” 320

“So you won’t being going to face the Sovereigns in the west?” Izzy asked, having heard her parents talking the night before.

Annwyl shrugged, pulling her knees up so she could wrap her arms around her legs. “I’ll send legions to meet Thracius head on.”

“Is that what
you
want?”

“At the moment that’s all I can have, Izzy.” The horse pawed the ground, shook his head.

Annwyl gave a little laugh. “As you can see, my Violence doesn’t like the sound of that at all.”

Eyes on Violence, Izzy frowned, not sure Annwyl’s words were the horse’s concern at all.

“Izzy.”

Her queen’s voice was soft when she said her name, so soft Izzy might have missed it if she weren’t right next to her. But Izzy heard the fear and slowly looked away from Violence.

They’d come out of the trees, but Izzy had heard no sound. They moved like death. And yet there were so many of them, Izzy couldn’t even count the number. Izzy had never seen anything like them before.

Animal skins and leather barely covered hard, muscular bodies that had seen many battles. And they all bore many tattoos. No tattoo the same.

Some of them wore them on their arms, their thighs, their chests, but absolutely all of them had tattoos on their faces. Black, tribal markings disturbed only when facial wounds had left scars.

Most were on foot, but a good forty were mounted, with large doglike creatures beside each one.

What they rode were like horses, but Izzy had never seen any so wide, their oversized muscles rippling as they stood restlessly, swinging their heads to the ground so their horns could dig in to the dirt. Izzy had the feeling the digging was their way of sharpening those horns. And their eyes were blood red. The doglike animals also had horns, but their horns curled inward like the rams Izzy liked to chase on the Western Mountains. Unlike the large dogs Dagmar bred and raised, though, these things were bigger.

Some looked close to three hundred pounds, all of it hard muscle and flesh.

Like something coughed up from the underworld.

Yet none of that disturbed Izzy as much as what were being held back by thick chain and collar. While the dogs had no leash and the horses had no saddles, these things were controlled by the thick metal collars around their throats and the chains being held by their captors. These had no horns, no otherworldly eyes, no bulging, overdeveloped muscles—and that was because they were men. Human men frothing at the mouth, more than eager 321

to kill. Men who’d lost their minds and humanity long, long ago.

Slowly, Annwyl got to her feet, her gaze locked not on the entire legion before her but on the one who rode at the head. A woman. A witch.

Izzy might not be one like her mother and sister, but she could spot one. She could spot them all.

“Izzy,” Annwyl said again, her voice now stronger. “Go.”

“Leave you to fight alone?”

“No. Get me help.”

The witch leader lifted her hand, palm up, middle and forefinger out.

Izzy waited for her to unleash a spell with that hand, but all she did was swipe her fingers to the left. The collars on the men were jerked by the females who held them and the metal unlocked and dropped. Unleashed, the men howled in their madness and charged.

“
Izzy, go!
” Annwyl screamed, lifting one of her blades.

And, as her commander ordered, Izzy shot off toward home.

“Are you going to keep pacing?” Dagmar asked Talaith. “You’re making me dizzy.”

“How can you be so calm?”

Busy writing a list, Dagmar replied, “I choose not to fret. Fretting doesn’t help.”

“She doesn’t understand, you know.” And Dagmar slowly raised her head to look across the table at the god who sat there, her feet brazenly resting on the wood. Her arm had grown back. “Not everyone’s like you.”

“Why are you here?”

The war goddess pouted. “That’s not very welcoming.”

“Who are you talking to?” Talaith asked.

Dagmar sighed. “A god.”

And that’s when Talaith threw up her hands and shouted, “Well, that’s not good!”

“Do you really think her brothers will allow you to get away with this?” Elder Siarl asked.

“I’ll talk to Morfyd. She’ll understand. And I’ll deal with any repercussions.”

“Then why have you even bothered to summon us?”

“I will present what I have found to the Council, and you will judge her accordingly. Then punishment will commence.”

“Punishment? In the salt mines?”

“For betraying our queen.”

322

“I don’t like it,” Elder Teithi argued.

“It’s for the best.”

“No, cousin,” Keita finally managed to say. “It’s for your ego.” She dragged herself to her claws. It wasn’t easy. She hurt everywhere.

“What I do, I do for my queen.”

“What you do,” Keita snarled back, “you do for yourself. Don’t blame the queen for you being such a self-righteous cunt.” The fist slammed into the side of Keita’s snout, sending her crashing to the ground.

“Elestren! Stop this!”

“Perhaps the snobby slit would like to challenge me.” Elestren kicked her, sending Keita’s dragon body flipping up and over. “Come on, princess!

Pick up a sword and fight me! Prove your innocence by killing your challenger.”

“Elestren, I’m telling you right now to stop this!” Elder Siarl ordered.

“I’m giving her a chance to walk away from this.” Elestren unsheathed her sword, flipped it so that she held it by the blade. “Take it, princess. Prove me wrong. Let the gods decide our fate.” Coughing, Keita slowly pushed her body up. When she saw her cousin’s body relax, Keita picked up a handful of dirt and flung it at Elestren’s still-useful eye.

Dropping the sword, Elestren backed up, screeching as she tried to wipe out the dirt. Keita scrambled up, put her front claws together, talons interlocking, and swung at Elestren’s face. She hit her hard, Elestren’s entire head jerking to one side. But she was still standing and, it seemed, relatively unfazed by the hit that had Keita’s claws throbbing.

Slowly, Elestren faced Keita.

“Oh…shit,” Keita muttered seconds before her cousin swung her own fist, sending Keita flying back and into the cave wall. She hit it hard and then hit the ground a little harder.

“Elestren! No!”

But her cousin ignored Elder Siarl’s demand, grabbing hold of Keita by her hair and flipping her over. She slammed her knee down on Keita’s chest and raised the sword she retrieved over Keita’s head.

“Sorry, cousin,” she said, although they both knew she didn’t mean it.

The screaming men charged forward, and Annwyl readied her weapon, pulling it up so the handle was by her shoulder and the blade a little lower. When the first few were close enough, she swung the blade in an arc.

She cut several in half, took the arms of others. A handful shot by her and 323

went after Izzy. Although she wanted to follow, to protect her niece, she knew she had to let Izzy prove her worth. She couldn’t and wouldn’t turn away from this fight. Not when she’d been dreaming about it for so long now.

This had been what she’d been waiting for, and Annwyl had no intention of walking away.

More men charged her, and Annwyl went to work.

Izzy jumped over tree stumps and dashed around boulders. She could hear the men coming up behind her, slavering for her blood. Begging for it.

She didn’t turn around; she didn’t look at them. She couldn’t afford to. The forest could be tricky. And although she was armed, she couldn’t stand and fight now. Not when Annwyl needed help. Not when those protecting the twins—and, more importantly, her sister—needed to be warned.

Keita brought her claws up, hoping to somehow block the blade before it entered her chest, but a flash of light had her gasping and Elestren yelping and stumbling away from her. Keita turned over and watched with her mouth open as Morfyd landed in front of her.

Elestren blinked in confusion. “Morfyd?”

“You bitch.” Morfyd raised her claws and unleashed bright white flames that sent Elestren flying back. “
My sister!
” Morfyd bellowed, advancing on Elestren. “
You do this to my sister!
” Elestren got to her feet, snarling. “You’d protect this lying, betraying
bitch
?”

“She’s my
sister
!”

Elestren raised her blade to attack, and Morfyd opened her mouth and unleashed a line of flame that snaked across the cavern, wrapped around the blade, and yanked it from Elestren’s stunned grasp.

Those who’d been with Elestren ran for the exit, but they met Briec and Gwenvael, who didn’t seem to be in any mood to let them leave.

Elestren held her claws up. A sign of surrender. A move rarely made by a Cadwaladr, but one that clearly signaled the fight was over.

Ragnar landed beside Keita, dropping to one knee.

“Gods, Keita.”

“Help me up.”

She held up her claw, and he took it. Fearghus landed on the other side of her and grabbed her other claw. Together they helped her stand.

Keita watched as Morfyd raised her claw and chanted, pulling her talons in until she made a fist. Elestren went down screaming as if 324

something inside her was being torn apart.

Éibhear grabbed Morfyd’s shoulders, tried to pull her back, to stop her. But with a flick of her wrist, she sent their oversized baby brother spinning across the cavern, Ragnar and Fearghus quickly pulling Keita out of the way.

Talaith looked away from Dagmar and the god she couldn’t see. It felt like her chest was being squeezed, and the last time she’d felt that, her Izzy had been in trouble. She moved from the table, her gaze shooting up to the top of the hallway stairs. The centaur stood there, watching her, Ebba’s serene, but direct expression telling Talaith all she needed to know.