Still, not as powerful as Cathbad. He had a deadly goddess for a partner. Tristan could not see that druid taking a step down to a less powerful partner, not when Queen Maeve would annihilate both of them.
Brynhild’s arm swung as she walked, revealing the yellow claw-stick Cathbad had whacked Tristan with to knock him out.
Well, shit. Tristan didn’t want that thing near him.
This might not go as well as he’d thought.
When she stopped fifteen feet away, he forced a wider grin. That alone should earn him an acting award with the pain banging through his head and muscles screaming in his arms being stretched.
He tried to clear his dry throat. “Hi there.”
She cocked her head to the side again and speared him with a surly look. Strange woman. “Who are you?”
Tristan found that interesting. So Cathbad hadn’t shared much with her, huh?
He could work with that opening as a starter.
Offering her a confused look, Tristan said, “You mean you’re holding me hostage and you don't even know who I am?”
Gorgeous blue eyes brightened even more. Blond hair played across her shoulders and fell to her waist. A braid down one side of her face landed on a perfect mound of breast.
Sexy as hell. Evil as shit.
She argued, “I did not capture you.”
Ah, wait a minute. She’d said that as if accusing her of such an act impugned her integrity, if she had any.
“Sorry.” Tristan tried for contrite. “Cathbad had me convinced you two were in this together.”
She scoffed at that. “We are not together. He is gone. I am here.”
This had more potential by the minute. Tristan continued to play up to her. “At least you have a nice place for a cave. I’m impressed with that whole setup for reading over there. If you free me, we can sit there and chat.” He angled his head, indicating the overstuffed chair next to a tall bookcase and reading lamp.
Clearly all of the latest caves came standard with those amenities.
She followed his gaze to the area he commented on then whipped a furious look back at him.
Well, damn. What had been so wrong about that idea?
Brynhild’s eyes blazed with dark thoughts. “No. We can speak now.”
Definitely a ballbuster when it came to simple conversation.
Fatigue and pain made every effort monumental, but Tristan had to get through to this female. “Sure, this works. Why didn't Cathbad tell you who I was?”
She took a step closer and the soft shape of her face changed to one of curiosity. “How do you know Cathbad?”
Neutral ground. Finally.
Tristan reached for a foothold in this conversation. “Oh, I've known him since he reincarnated or whatever it was that he and Queen Maeve did to wake up after thousands of years of sleeping. You know her, right?”
From the tight expression on Brynhild’s face, he’d say the answer was no. He’d guessed that already.
She lifted a smooth shoulder. “Queen is not important.”
This got better all the time.
He’d never been one for cat fights, but he’d kill for a beer to watch this one and Queen Maeve go at it.
Brynhild had zero issues with her ego, so he played to her strength. “You must be some kind of badass to make that statement.”
The woman’s relaxed face fired up again to a ferocious warrior in the blink of an eye. She called out an order in some language.
A shield flew across the room to her extended hand.
She caught it without looking and flipped it in front of her. “I did not capture you, but I allow no one to live who insults me. Make peace with your god and prepare to die.” She didn’t change shape, but everything about her became more dangerous and aggressive.
“Whoa, hold it, please,” Tristan quickly begged. She looked like the kind of woman who would torture him first, starting with his family jewels. “What did I say wrong?”
She frowned. His sincerity must have thrown her a curve. “You call me name.”
Tristan grinned. “No, I complimented you.” When her anger dipped a notch, he hurried to explain. “In my world, a badass female is a powerful warrior, someone nobody would dare threaten.”
Lo and behold, Brynhild lowered her shield and her attitude. Her shoulders softened along with her facial muscles. She began nodding. “Yes. I try to tell Cathbad this. I am badass.”
Hallelujah. He’d found a tiny connection, which might spare his life and body parts. “So why are you stuck in here when he leaves?”
Brynhild’s shoulders sagged. She stepped away, walking to the right and continuing in an oval pattern, grumbling to herself in some weird language he’d never heard.
When she stopped and looked up at him, she waved her shield at nothing in particular. “Druid is like old woman. Always nagging. Will not listen. I am warrior, not student.”
Tristan enjoyed the first push of real hope since regaining consciousness here.
Few things worked better in the supernatural or natural world when fighting an enemy than to divide and conquer.
As in, if she was pissed off at Cathbad, Tristan had a chance to gain her ear by convincing her that he could be someone of value.
He had to become her friend.
He altered his face into sincere confusion. “I don't understand what you mean by student? What is he trying to teach you?”
She pointed to his right at the seating area as if he hadn’t already commented on the arrangement.
Standing tall and proud, she said, “Druid wants me to read these things about life today. How women talk and dress.” She turned her nose up. “Weak women. I know what I need to know. I dress as warrior. That is important.”
It finally hit Tristan that she reminded him of someone who had lived a very long time, much like Daegan. Back during a medieval time. Huh.
“Well, Cathbad needs his eyes checked,” Tristan claimed.
“Why?”
He'd confounded her. Tristan dropped his voice into the tone a lover used. Quite a feat since just breathing hurt. He had to make this comment stick. “Because if that druid thinks you need lessons
