A Tale Of Two Dragons

whole.

Crystin stepped up to them, placed her claw on Braith’s shoulder. “We’ll clean up this gods-damn mess, take care of the hatchlings, and head out tomorrow morning to find Emyr.”

Braith studied her aunt. “You don’t have to, Aunt Crystin. This is my fight.”

“You’re a Daughter of the House of Penarddun, Braith, which makes this our fight.”

“Plus,” Owena casually tossed in, “your bastard father’s pissed us off for the last gods-damn time.”

There was agreement from Braith’s other aunts and cousins.

“He sent Lightnings after us like we’re some bloody cattle to be auctioned off,” Caron growled.

“Which is bad enough,” Ffraid added. “But he also sent them after his own daughter. If my Da was here right now, he’d be losing his mind.”

“Let’s not involve your fathers,” Owena said. “You know how they are when they get cranky.”

“And they’ll just blame us,” Aledwen muttered.

“Besides, they’re encamped closer to Dark Plains than they are the Outer Plains so it’ll take them days to get here. And, to be honest”—Crystin studied her blood-and-brain-covered sword—“I am so very ready to end your father, Braith of the Darkness.”

Braith looked at Addolgar, then her aunts and cousins. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

Chapter 19

Three days later, his wounded leg strong again, Addolgar stepped up behind Lady Katarina. She was still very pretty, but she was no match for his Braith.

“My lady?”

She didn’t turn around, her focus on the field of flowers she stood in. “I really thought they’d leave you be if I made it look like I’d killed you. I had no idea they’d want to make sure you were dead.”

“I’m a Cadwaladr, my lady. One would be foolish not to ensure a Cadwaladr is dead. We have a way of coming back again and again until we are.”

“Well, I’m glad Lady Braith was there. I could tell by the way she looked at you during our trip that she’d make sure you survived.”

“She did.”

Katarina slowly faced him. She studied him for a long moment before she nodded her head in approval. “I see.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“Sergeant Addolgar . . . understand, my goal wasn’t to betray the Queen. Or my kind.”

“Then what are you doing, my lady?”

She sat back on her haunches, clutched her claws together. “What can I say? I fell in love.”

Addolgar couldn’t help but feel vaguely disgusted. “With Elder Emyr?”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, gods, no! No, no, no. Not Emyr. Herleif.”

“Herleif?”

“Of the . . . uh . . .” She cleared her throat. “Torbjorn Horde.”

“A Lightning?” Addolgar struggled to control his rarely seen anger. “You betrayed us all for a Lightning?”

“I betrayed no one, Sergeant. I swear that on the souls of my ancestors.”

“But you sent them to raid the Penardduns’ cave.”

“That was not Herleif’s Horde.” She closed her eyes, brought the tips of her talons to her temples, and rubbed. “I was a fool, Addolgar.”

“For trusting Emyr?”

“Aye.” She opened her eyes, dropped her claws to her sides. “The deal was simple. Soldiers that were loyal to Emyr and his sons would escort me safely through the Northlands and into Torbjorn territory.”

“In exchange for what?”

“Herleif’s troops given to Emyr for him to command against the Queen.”

“How is that not betrayal, m’lady?” When Katarina looked away, Addolgar guessed, “They were going to kill Emyr and his sons instead.”

“I knew he was not someone the Queen would miss.”

“Oh, well then . . .”

“I know you don’t understand this, Addolgar. You’re a Cadwaladr.”

Perhaps ’twas true. Perhaps the Cadwaladrs would never plan such a thing because they weren’t royal enough to justify such shitty behavior. Yet he could also say with absolute certainty that the honor-bound Braith and her Penarddun kin would never do such a thing either. And their blood was as royal as Katarina’s.

“But it turned out,” she went on, unaware that Addolgar saw her much differently now, “Emyr already had plans of his own in place. He was going to hand me over to Olgeir and his Horde and, in return . . .” She swallowed, continued on, “In return, they were going to march around to the borderlands between the Southlands and the Western Mountains.”

Addolgar blinked in surprise. “They were going to strike your father.”

“Aye. And then attack the Queen’s troops from her weakest point.”

“Olgeir’s smarter than I gave him credit for,” Addolgar grudgingly admitted.

“I couldn’t let that happen,” she said fiercely. “Not to my father. I know he’d never allow me to mate a Northlander, but he’s still my father. I still love him.”

Whatever. His sisters would never let anyone—not their father, not even the Queen—get between them and the males they loved. But they, like Braith, had a little something called integrity and backbone. “The troops that attacked Braith’s kin?”

“A small local Horde whose territory Emyr had permission to travel through. But that’s when I knew something was very wrong. The Henriksson Horde is an enemy of Herleif’s people and loathe Southland dragons. They never would have allowed us to travel through their territory unchallenged. But they allowed us to travel through for Olgeir. When I realized that . . . well, one night I went off to relieve myself, shifted to human, and snuck back. That’s when I heard Emyr’s plan.” She frowned and noted, “Emyr had to repeat that plan several times to his sons. They were quite stupid.”

Addolgar thought on that comment a moment. “Were?” Then he gawked at the royal. “Lady Katarina . . . what have you done?”

She gave a very small and dainty shrug. “What I had to.”

“Oy. Mountain.”

Annoyed by that nickname, Addolgar glared over his shoulder. Owena stood behind him and gave a short jerk of her head, as always ignoring his glare.

“Stay here a moment,” he told Katarina before he went off after Owena. He followed the She-dragon until he reached a clearing. Braith and the rest of her kin stood waiting. Waiting and staring. He walked past them, not stopping until he reached Elder Emyr. The dragon sat slumped in front of the pit fire, remnants of drool and vomit dried on his chest scales, one of his eyes picked out by the crows that had planted themselves on all the bodies.

“She poisoned them all,” Owena said low, as if afraid to wake the dead. “All of them.”

Addolgar immediately turned and walked over to Braith. No matter how she might have felt about the dragon, Emyr had still been her father. He took her claw and led her a bit away from her kin and the rotting smell of death.

“Are you all right?” he asked when they stopped.

“It’s not exactly what I expected. Not like this.” She suddenly looked up. “Is Katarina still alive?”

“She is. I found her in a clearing.”

“What happened?”

“She’s in love. With a Lightning from the Torbjorn Horde.”