He released her snout. “Now what do you have to say?”
“I . . . um . . .” She swallowed tears of gratitude, unwilling to be even more of a mess in front of Addolgar. “I’m thirsty.”
He grinned. “So am I. Let’s get some water from the lake and figure out what our next steps should be. Sound like a plan to you?”
Braith nodded. “A very good plan.”
“Excellent!” He gripped her claw in his and pulled her toward the lake. “And I stole some oxen jerky out of Bercelak’s bag. He makes the best oxen jerky.”
“Bercelak the Vengeful cooks?”
“Aye. And he’s surprisingly good at it, too!”
They traveled late into the night until they could go no farther. Exhausted, they finally stopped near a town. Addolgar would prefer to stay in the woods for the night, but they were in a more densely populated area, filled with humans. So whether they stayed in the woods or not, they’d have to do it as human or risk some farmer or late-traveling merchant stumbling across two sleeping dragons. It was not a good way to start the day, in his estimation. Burning a bunch of humans crispy for nothing more than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. True, Bercelak would do it, but he had little to no tolerance when it came to humans. He thought they should all burn. Or, at the very least, be nothing more than cattle for dragon meals.
They shifted to their human forms and dug into their travel bags for their clothes.
With a comical little expression on her face, Braith pulled out the clothes Ghleanna had put together for her. She held them up for Addolgar to see.
“Your sister seems to have a love of chain mail.”
Addolgar chuckled. “She’s Cadwaladr. All my sisters love chain mail except Maelona, who has no desire to pick up a blade or an ax. Never has.” He studied her as she slipped the clothes on. They fit her, but barely. Especially around the shoulders. She moved her arms, trying to stretch the material out a bit.
“Have you thought about getting in some military training?” he asked as he pulled on his own clothes.
She shrugged. “Actually . . . I have. But my father was against it. He said royals shouldn’t lower themselves to being a military force.”
“Some of the best kings and queens the Southland dragons have had fought in battle. Addiena’s mother was a battle mage for many years before she took the throne.”
“I don’t disagree with you, but—”
“Your father no longer matters in your future, Braith. Once we’re done with this, it’ll be all down to you.”
She sighed. “I still don’t know how I’m going to do this, Addolgar. Turn in my own father?”
“I’ll be right by your side.” He tugged on his boots, then added, “In fact, let’s think of this a different way.”
“And what way is that?”
“Instead of you bringing in your father . . . you’re retrieving Lady Katarina, while I’m bringing in your father.”
“And what does that word play actually do, Addolgar?”
“Take the pressure off. You think too much of words,” he explained while he stood. “They have all this meaning for you.” Addolgar reached down and grasped her hands, lifting her to her feet. “So use all that meaning to your benefit. I’ll bring in your father while you’ll bring in Katarina. Now, what about your brothers?”
“What about them?”
“We should probably bring them in, too, or Addiena will just send us out again.”
“Don’t worry. Where my father goes, my brothers will go. They’ve never been able to think on their own.”
“That’s sad.”
“My mum tried to help them, but since hatching they’ve been loyal to my father. Plus they’re rather stupid.”
“And you’ve been loyal to your mum.”
“From the beginning to the end of time, I’ll be loyal to my mum.”
“I don’t blame you. She did a good job teaching you to fight.”
“She did?”
“Braith, you may not be ready to ride into battle”—yet—“but you’ve got basic hand-to-hand combat techniques down pretty well from what I’ve seen. You took out Bercelak.” He leaned down until their noses nearly touched. “Bercelak. Only Ghleanna and a few of our older sisters can take him in a fight.”
“He doesn’t like fighting females?”
“Bercelak will fight anyone. But my sisters are like you. Strong, fierce . . . a little heartless.”
“He started it.” She glanced down. “You going to let my hands go, Addolgar?”
“If you insist.”
She looked off, thought a moment. “Well, you should keep holding at least one. I wouldn’t want to get lost on the way into town.” She briefly chewed her lip, still wouldn’t look him in the eye. “I’ve never been here before.”
Doing his best not to smile too widely at that, Addolgar released her left hand but kept hold of her right. And, without much else said, they headed into town, hand in hand.
They walked into the pub. A dark, dastardly-looking place that Braith normally wouldn’t do more than tear apart with her claws.
Even worse, as soon as they stepped inside, the entire place fell silent, all eyes turning toward them, watching them with suspicion.
Braith pulled her hand out of Addolgar’s and curled both hands into fists beneath her fur cloak, ready to battle her way out of here if necessary. But then Addolgar pulled the hood of his own cloak back, tossed his silver hair off his face, and the entire room went up in a cheer.
“Addolgar!”
“Hello, all!” Addolgar called out in return.
He took Braith’s hand again, his fingers easily separating hers so that she no longer had a fist, and led her into the pub. There were more greetings all around. Cheerful pats on the back, and hugs from the females, a few handshakes as they passed through.
Addolgar finally stopped by a table. He stepped behind Braith and took off her cloak, placing it on the bench beside her. He took off his own and then sat on the other side. A barmaid walked up to the table with four big mugs of ale. She slammed them down on the table. “From your fans,” she giggled, winking at him.
Grinning, Addolgar pulled three ales closer to himself and pushed one toward Braith.
“We have Mum’s stew tonight,” the barmaid said.
“Say no more,” Addolgar told her.
“And bread?”
“You have to ask?”
The barmaid winked at him again and focused on Braith. “You as well, miss?”
“Aye, please.”
She nodded and walked off. Braith watched the girl for a bit before looking at everyone else.
“We’re safe here, Braith. You can stop looking so worried.”
“You spend a lot of time here?”
He shrugged and gulped from one of the mugs of ale. “I’ve been here over the years. I travel a lot.”
“Yes, but they seem to . . . know you so well.”
“I like meeting strangers. You never know what you’ll learn. What you’ll discover.”
She leaned in. “But all these humans?”
“You don’t like humans?”
“I don’t dislike them. But I don’t trust them either.”
That made Addolgar laugh. “I don’t trust anybody except me own kin. But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy others’ company. Everyone has a fascinating tale to tell if you’re willing to listen.”
The barmaid returned, placing large bowls of delicious-smelling stew in front of them along with several platters of fresh, warm bread.
“Need anything else, you just let me know.”
“Thanks, Mary.” Addolgar ripped off a large chunk of bread and began devouring that first bowl of stew. He didn’t speak while he ate. He just ate. And before he’d even finished that first bowl, Mary brought another, and then another. All of which Addolgar ate. More bread was brought and he devoured that as well.
Braith, however, was satisfied with two of the large bowls of stew and one large loaf of bread to appease her human appetite.
By the time she finished her second bowl, Addolgar had finished his fourth and was leaning back to sigh contentedly.
“Good, eh?” he asked, that smile on his face.
“Very.”
“Mary’s mum runs this place. She makes the best stew. Ale’s good too.” To prove that, he finished off his third mug of ale, only for Mary to bring four more.
“Dessert?” Mary asked.
“What ya got?”
“Me mum’s raisin and ale cake.”
“Bring it.”
Laughing, Mary walked off and Addolgar rested his elbow on the table and his chin in the palm of his hand.
“You all right?” he asked her.
“I’m fine. I was hungrier than I thought.”
“You haven’t eaten in a couple of days. And it’s been a rough couple of days.”
Braith placed her hands on the table and leaned in a bit. “Addolgar.”
“Hhmm?” he asked, smiling down at the desserts Mary placed in front of them. “You should try this,” he told Braith. “Mary’s mum makes a great raisin and ale cake.”
Braith glanced down at the cake—it did look good—and back at Addolgar.
“Addolgar . . . I don’t know how I can thank you.”
“Thank me? For what?” he asked around a mouthful of cake.
“Putting your family at risk? Helping me with the Queen? Protecting me from Bercelak?”
“You protected yourself from Bercelak.”
“Addolgar,” she felt the need to remind him, “the Queen is holding your sister hostage.”
Addolgar blinked, nodded. “Uh-huh.”
Braith frowned. “Yet you don’t seem too worried about her.”
“If it were Maelona, I’d never have allowed it. I’d have torn the walls of Devenallt Mountain down before I let her take Maelona. So would the rest of my kin.”
“But Ghleanna . . . ?”
“If the Queen wants to have Ghleanna and Bercelak staying at Devenallt Mountain while you and I track your father down—that’s her decision. And I wish her much luck with it.” He pointed at Braith’s cake with his spoon. “You going to eat that?”
Chapter 11
“You staying here for the night, Addolgar?” Mary asked. “Me mum wants to know.”
“Aye,” he said, after glancing at an exhausted-looking Braith. “We’ll take a room. Is the one on the top floor open?”
“It is. But it’s extra.”
“We’ll take it.”
“Let me check it first, make sure it’s been cleaned right. I’ll let you know when you can come up.”
“Thanks, Mary.”
Mary headed to the back stairs and Addolgar again focused on Braith. “Stop worrying,” he ordered her.
“Who says I’m worrying?”
He rolled his eyes in answer and Braith gave a small sigh.
“I can’t help it,” she finally admitted. “I can’t believe my father has done this. And for what? He could never rule the Southland dragons. Not as a monarch. Being an Elder was the most he could ever hope to be. And he should be proud of that.”