The Dragon Who Loved Me (35 page)

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Authors: G.A. Aiken

BOOK: The Dragon Who Loved Me
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Dagmar rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, “Oh, piss off.”
“Now, now, my love,” he said to his mate, completely missing the fact that Fearghus and Briec were walking up behind him—and not one of the females bothered to warn him. “Have no fear. I won’t be leaving you anytime—aahhhhhh!
You heartless bastards!
” Gwenvael yelled after his brothers tossed him over the banister and he landed on the floor.
Damn but it was so very good to be home!
 
 
“Rhona!”
Rhona, busy pulling on her boots, watched the triplets run up to her.
“What?” she asked once her boots were on. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing! Look. Look!”
They forced a piece of parchment at her and she opened it and quickly read the words, lifted her gaze to her sisters. “Did you tell Mum?”
“Not yet,” Edana said. “We wanted to tell you first.”
“I . . . I can’t believe they’re taking you so early.”
“You’re upset,” Breena guessed.
“No, no. I’m . . .” She was overwhelmed. The triplets would be heading to Anubail Mountain. They would be trained as Dragonwarriors. Just like all Rhona’s other siblings. Just like most Cadwaladrs.
“You’re crying,” Nesta accused.
“Of course I’m not!”
“Then what’s that leaking out of your eyes?”
“You
are
upset,” Breena insisted.
“No. It’s just . . . just . . .” Unable to hold it in anymore, Rhona burst into tears and sobbed out, “I’m losing my babies!”
“Awwww!” Her sisters surrounded her in a group hug, now all of them crying.
“You’ll never lose us,” Edana insisted.
“What’s going on?” Vigholf asked from behind them, his mother next to him. Rhona had left the pair alone to talk while Rhona put on her boots.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded when he saw that they were all crying.
“See?” Edana said. “You have him now. And he’s not half bad.”
“But he’s not you lot.”
“But now you can have your own hatchlings . . . not just Mum’s.” Breena wiped her eyes and sized up Vigholf. “He looks like a right good breeder.”
Both mother and son’s eyes grew wide at the turn in the conversation.
“But I’ll probably just have males,” Rhona complained. “They never breed females in the Northlands.”
“You’re a Cadwaladr, luv. The Cadwaladrs always have females. We’re sure of it.” Nesta motioned to Vigholf. “Tell her you’ll have female offspring.” When Vigholf did nothing but gawk, Nesta snarled, “I said
tell her
.”
Shaking his head, Vigholf took his mother’s hand and walked away.
Rhona didn’t actually blame him for doing that, though.
 
 
When his mother doubled over in laughter, Vigholf finally had to stop walking.
“It isn’t funny. They’re
all
like that.”
“But . . . but . . .”
“Mum! It’s not funny!”
“Oh, yes it is.” She wiped tears from her eyes and gazed at her son. “She’s the perfect choice.”
“She hasn’t agreed to anything.”
“What more of a sign do you need?”
“She didn’t say the words, ‘I’m coming with you, Vigholf. I will stay with you forever, Vigholf.’ Just discussing my breeding capabilities does not mean much with this group, Mum.”
“Och!” His mother waved her hand at him. “You always have to hear specifics.”
“When we’re talking about the rest of my life and future happiness . . . yes! I do!”
 
 
Briec walked into the room his daughter shared with her twin cousins. Ebba stood next to the window, staring out, probably watching the bonfires of bodies they’d had over the last few days to get rid of the dead.
Without even looking at him, Ebba turned to the twins and said, “Come. I believe Sulien has something for you both.”
The twins, apparently knowing that Sulien was a blacksmith, ran out of the room screaming. Ebba followed, closing the door behind her, and Briec sat down on the bed beside his baby girl.
She was drawing on parchment, but when he sat down, she reached over and began braiding his hair.
“You sent me a gift while I was away, didn’t you, Rhian?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Do you know what kind of gift it was?”
Fearghus had finally explained to Briec how bad his injuries had been from that boulder to the back. And Briec had seen enough battle wounds to know that he
never
should have survived what his brother had described to him. But Briec had survived, which made him realize that his strange dream—not really a dream.
“It was to make you feel better.”
“And it did. Very much so. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She smiled up at him, and he ignored his desire to just pick her up in his arms and hold her.
“Did someone give you that?” Briec asked. “The thing you sent me to make me better?”
“No.”
“How did you know it would help me?”
“I just knew.”
Interesting and a bit terrifying. “What else can you do?”
She shrugged. “I can draw.” She held up the picture she was working on. It was a drawing of a horse and it wasn’t half bad.
“Yes. You can. Anything else, though? Can you do anything I couldn’t do? Or your mum? Or your cousins?”
She looked up, squinting her eyes. Her “thinking” face he would guess. “I can go places.”
Briec’s heart dropped. “Go places?”
“Like Lord Ren. I can travel. Sometimes I can send things away. Like those bad men. Didn’t tell Mommy about them, though. She’d have been upset.” Well, that was most likely an understatement.
“You didn’t tell her about the bad men?”
“Uh-uh.” She went back to working on her drawing. “They were here to hurt me and the twins.”
“So you sent them away?”
“Uh-huh. Afterward.”
“After . . . what?”
“After the twins were done.”
Briec flinched. This was getting worse and worse.
“After they were done doing what?”
“Stopping the bad men from hurting us.”
“How did they do that?”
“With their swords.”
Aye. Worse and worse.
“And then you sent the bad men away?”
“Back to the other bad men beyond the gate. I knew if Mommy saw them lying there she’d be sad and I hate when she’s sad.”
“So do I.”
“But Tally was mad at me because I sent the swords with them and now she doesn’t have her sword.”
“I’m sure Sulien will give her and Talan new swords.”
“Good, because she still complains.”
“The twins talk to you?”
“In my head.”
Gods.
It had taken him and his siblings years to hone the skills necessary to communicate with each other simply by thinking. For Rhian and the twins to be able to do it after only a few years . . .
Briec picked his daughter up and sat her in his lap, lifting her chin with the tip of his finger so she looked right at him.
“I need you to do me a favor, Rhian.”
“Not tell anyone about what I can do?”
Smart girl.
“Aye.”
“Because they won’t understand?”
“Aye.”
“All right.”
“You’re not upset about that?”
“No. Sometimes people and dragons are stupid. Why should I help them be even more stupid?”
Briec chuckled, knowing that he was so blessed to have been given such amazing daughters. “Has anyone told you how brilliant you are?”
“Mommy has, but then she says ‘But don’t tell your daddy because he’ll just say’”—and his daughter’s voice dropped amusingly lower—“‘Of course she is! She’s
my
daughter.’ Then Mommy smiles.” His daughter looked up at him with eyes so much like his own. “She missed you every day you were gone.”
“She told you that?”
“No. I felt it. She likes it when you argue.” His daughter smirked. “You like it too.”
“I do. But ssssh. Don’t tell. It’s our secret.”
“All right.” She twirled his hair around her small fingers and asked, “Will I grow up and argue with someone I love one day, Daddy?”
“As part of this family, Rhian? Absolutely.”
 
 
They rested against the fence surrounding the training field, passing a warm loaf of bread back and forth between them. Rhona’s father stood next to her, his elbow on the fence, his chin resting in the palm of his hand.
The sounds of steel crashing against steel rang out over the courtyard, luring other Cadwaladrs to the fence. Some were eating their first meal, bowls of hot porridge in their hands, and others were simply watching. How could they not? It wasn’t every day one could witness two children, not even nine winters yet, who could sword fight like that. Uncle Bercelak finally walked away from the twins and motioned to Vigholf. “What’s
that
doing here?” he asked Bradana.
“And a happy hello to you, too,” Vigholf said with enough cheer to choke a pig.
Bercelak gave one glare at the Lightning, then looked back at his sister. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Isn’t it bad enough we have one around?” And Ragnar, standing next to Ghleanna, waved. “Now we’ve got two?”
Bradana suddenly stood tall, glaring at her younger brother. “He’s with me Rhona, ain’t he? So you watch how you talk. Ya ain’t too old to tear the wings off of, Bercelak the Black
.
”
“Fine then. You deal with him.”
“I need to be dealt with?” Vigholf asked softly, but Rhona bumped him with her hip to shut him up. Her mother just defended Rhona and her choice of mate to Bercelak. This was a monumental moment in her life and she wouldn’t have it ruined by gods-damn Lightnings!
“I got enough to deal with,” Bercelak was saying, “training these two.”
“Nice work on those swords and shields, Daddy,” Rhona said, smiling at him.
“They’re all right, I guess,” Bercelak muttered and nearly everyone cringed when Sulien’s eyes narrowed on his mate’s brother. “Heard you did some nice work on Annwyl’s weapon, though,” Bercelak said to Rhona, surprising her that he’d already heard.
“Of course she does nice work,” Bradana snapped. “What did you expect? My daughter has talent, she does.”
And at that point they
all
turned to Bradana, gawking at her, Bradana’s offspring with their mouths open.
“What are you all looking at me like that for?”
“Well—” Rhona began, but Vigholf covered her mouth with his hand.
“Let’s just enjoy this moment, shall we?”
Rhona nodded in agreement until he yanked her back, the small sword Rhona’s father made, flipping end over end past her—aimed right for the head of the monarch walking up to the training ring.
But a steady hand caught it before it reached its destination. The newly promoted Izzy glaring at her young cousins. “Oy!” she snapped.
“Give me that!” Annwyl growled, snatching the sword out of Izzy’s hand and marching over. “No more training for you two! In the house!”
The twins stood in the middle of that ring, staring at their mother. It had been five years. Rhona remembered well the reaction of her siblings when their mother would return home from a battle, trying to order them around, and none of them responding until Rhona gave the signal. It seemed like it would be that kind of moment now until Rhona remembered this was Annwyl they were dealing with. Not Bradana.
The queen, seething that her children weren’t jumping at her commands, suddenly slammed her entire, well-trained, muscular body into the sturdy and well-built wood fence of the training ring. The wood splintered and she rammed into it again, destroying the section. She pushed the pieces out of her way, pointed at her children, and roared, “
Get in the house!
”
Eyes wide, the twins took off. When they ran past her, Annwyl added, “And every time you use my head for target practice, you lose weapons privileges!”
Annwyl stalked after them, but she stopped long enough to add while pointing at the sword, “Nice work, by the way.” She said it to Sulien casually, no longer angry. And that somehow made the whole thing . . . scarier.

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