She dropped to her knees, her arms covering her head. She heard the soldier above her garble a parody of a pain-filled scream, then fall next to her. Slowly, she looked over. A dagger with a plain, leather-wrapped hilt stuck from his mouth.
“Stay in that position and I’m sure those soldiers will find many uses for your ass.”
A brown hand appeared before her, the fingers slender and delicate. A few calluses from hard work. She recognized those hands. She’d seen them in visions.
“You going to stare at it or are you going to take my hand?”
Shaking, she removed her glove and put her hand in the woman’s outstretched palm. Her fingers were longer than the woman’s, her hand stronger. She had her father’s hands and his eyes. She got her mother’s face and, supposedly, her acid tongue.
Taking a deep breath, she gripped the woman’s smaller hand and let her see everything.
* * *
Talaith impatiently waited for the girl—at least, she guessed she was a girl, hard to tell under that cape—to take her hand. Annwyl and Morfyd seemed to have the rest of the battle under control, killing off Hamish’s remaining men. They must have still been looking for her and these poor wretched men and this girl got in the middle of it.
As soon as Talaith and Morfyd rode up, they knew why Annwyl hadn’t waited for them, but eagerly threw herself into the fray. Annwyl recognized the Madron crest.
“You going to stare at it or you going to take my hand?” she half teased, half demanded.
After a few more intolerable seconds, the girl took off her leather glove and reached for Talaith’s hand. Fascinated, Talaith stared at the brown hand slipping into hers. Someone from Alsandair this far north? But before she could say anything, the girl gripped her tight and images flooded through Talaith.
She could see her own face screaming and crying while being held back by Arzhela’s priestesses as she reached out in desperation; she saw the gold gates of the Madron castle; the kind face and warm feelings of a maid caring for a child not her own. The images sped up and things quickly turned dark as a large man, a soldier or guard, pulled his hand back to slap, but other soldiers intervened. A fight ensued, lives lost. Then the men—the Protectors—were traveling, from town to town, village to village, city to city. Never staying in one place longer than necessary. Resting briefly. Feeling safe with these men but lost. Protected but lonely.
Instinctually, Talaith snatched her hand back, dropping hard on her ass. Through wide eyes, she watched the girl pull her hood off her face and those eyes…the eyes of Talaith’s first love and lover looked at her.
“He promised you’d find me,” the girl whispered. And Talaith saw all her hopes of the last sixteen years reflected back to her from that face. “He promised you’d never stop until you had me back.”
With that, the girl threw herself at Talaith, wrapping her long, strong, warm arms around her.
At first, Talaith had no idea what to do. Not merely because her mother had never been affectionate, nor any of the Nolwenn witches who helped raise her, but because this wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Not in a million lifetimes.
“I’d really like it if you hugged me back.”
It was such an innocent statement. And an honest one. Tears welling in Talaith’s eyes, she wrapped her arms around her daughter and hugged her so tight she feared she may break her in half. But the girl didn’t complain. She said nothing, actually, but the tears falling against Talaith’s neck told her all she needed to know.
* * *
The brothers landed outside of Madron, their baby sister right behind them. She’d already arranged to have clothes and supplies awaiting them. They would travel into Madron human, hiding who they really were until necessary.
“Are you coming with us?”
Since she had yet to shift, Briec somehow doubted it. “No.” Her lip turned into a nasty snarl, which meant only one thing. “Her Majesty has summoned me.” Ah, yes. Only the Dragon Queen could annoy Keita this much. Mother and daughter did not get along like father and daughter.
Briec, still recovering from his nights of excessive drinking, tried to figure out how to put the blue surcoat on over his chainmail shirt and leggings. “What happened to those knights you were with?”
Keita burped and all the brothers quickly turned to her in surprise.
“Oh, Keita…you didn’t.” Briec charged.
“You know the rules, Keita. You either eat them or f**k them…you don’t do both,” Éibhear added.
“Not unless you do it right.”
Keita and Gwenvael laughed but when Briec and Éibhear merely stared at them, they stopped.
Keita shook her head. “Of course I didn’t eat them. I sent them on their way. Sadder but satisfied.”
“I don’t need to hear this about my baby sister,” Briec muttered.
Even as dragon, he could see his sister giving him her adorable little pout. “You’re still sad.”
“He’s miserable,” Gwenvael offered as he struggled into his chainmail shirt. “He’s starting to remind me of Fearghus before Annwyl.”
“None of us are having this conversation.” Briec wrapped a cape around his clothes, pulling the hood over his head to hide his silver hair. “She left me. It’s over.”
Because it was over. Even if he wanted to find her, he had no idea where to start. But he didn’t want to find her. She’d left him. Without a word. Without a thought. She’d left him and now he had feelings.
For that alone, he’d never forgive her.
Chapter Seventeen
Talaith opened her mouth again to answer her daughter’s question, and again the girl cut her off.
“Because as I see it, the gods brought us together. I knew you’d find me. I always knew. I never knew you’d be so pretty, though. I wish I was as pretty as you. But, I’m not. I’ve had to face that fact and move on with my life. It hasn’t been easy. Of course, nothing the past nine years has been easy, but it has been interesting. We’ve been everywhere, we have. The mountains of Brandgaine and the mines of Maledisant. You see, we’ve always kept moving. Always on the go. Never stopping except for a few weeks at a time. Except for my Protectors, I’ve had no friends. Although I think I see them more as uncles as opposed to friends. I think I need friends. Now that we’ve found each other perhaps I can actually have friends.”
Talaith became tired just listening to the girl. All these years, they’d accused Talaith of being too talkative, too chatty. But this…this was amazing.
From what she’d been able to glean, her daughter’s name was Iseabail. And she intended to keep it and she hoped that was all right. True, Talaith didn’t give her that name but she was used to it now and didn’t want to give it up. Her Protectors—and that’s exactly what she called them—referred to her as Izzy the Dangerous. Apparently while growing into her tall body, she had a tendency to be awkward and clumsy. And there was an incident with a horse she suddenly refused to finish telling.
Talaith still didn’t know how these men came to protect her daughter because Izzy hadn’t taken a breath long enough to allow Talaith to ask. Glancing at Morfyd and Annwyl, who led them back to Annwyl’s elite guard, she could see them looking back at her and laughing hysterically. Evil cows.
“How did you learn to fight like that, anyway?”
“Well—”
“You see, I want to learn to fight like that. Achaius has taught me a bit, haven’t you, Achaius, but mostly they tell me to run and hide when danger is near. But I’m sixteen winters now and running and hiding seems awfully unseemly, don’t you think?”
“Um—”
“It was like I told Achaius, he can’t protect me forever. Didn’t I say that Achaius? And what happens if, the gods forbid, he and the others get too hurt to protect me? Then what will I do?”
It took Talaith a moment to realize Izzy actually waited for an answer. “Oh, well, that’s a very good point. It’s a hard world and you have to learn how to—”
“Survive. Exactly. That’s exactly what I was telling them. But do you think they listen to me? Of course not. I’m just She Who Shall Be Protected. As if that’s the name I was born with.
“Anyway, I’m just glad to finally know you and meet you, like he promised I would.” Talaith wanted to ask “like who promised” but there was no chance as her daughter barreled ahead. “My heart would break if I never met you. You are my mother after all and we should have never been separated. At least that’s how I feel and although I will admit, I’ve been wrong on more than one occasion, it is rare. And I absolutely think I’m right here. You see, it all comes down to…”
On and on she went—and Talaith had never been happier.
* * *
“Explain to me again why we’re at a whorehouse?”
Gwenvael sighed around his ale. “Because, my thick-headed brother, if you want information about human men then you go to the one place all human men come to eventually.”
Briec glanced over at Éibhear, but baby brother was too busy watching every woman in the room to notice.
“You sure you’re just not hoping to get—”
“Gwenvael!”
Briec leaned back as a round, extremely large-breasted woman threw herself into Gwenvael’s waiting arms.
“You’ve been gone ages.”
Gwenvael pulled the woman onto his lap and nuzzled br**sts fairly exploding from her bodice.
“Sorry, my sweet. I’ve had so much to do lately. Couldn’t be helped.”
“Well, you’re here now. And you’ve brought friends, I see.”
“Family, actually. These are my brothers, Briec and Éibhear. This, my brothers, is the fair lady Antha.”
“Lords.” She dipped her head a bit, but refused to release her hold on Gwenvael’s neck. “So, old friend, anyone here that garners your interest this eve?”
Gwenvael pulled the woman close and whispered into her ear. “Anyone who has entertained those of Lord Hamish’s court.”
Eyes that were once warm and friendly, turned calculating in seconds. “Ah. That would be many, but he and his men do have their favorites. Of course, they are in much demand. Securing their time won’t be cheap.”
“Good thing I have so much gold to share.”
Beaming, the woman slipped off his lap. “Then I shall get them ready for your pleasure, lord.” She glanced at Briec and Éibhear. “And for your brothers as well?”
Éibhear eagerly leaned forward, but Briec pushed him back. “No. Just food and wine.”
“As you wish.” She turned and flounced off.
“Why must I wait down here with you?” Éibhear sounded as if he’d rather chew tree bark.
“This trip isn’t about bedding wenches, little brother.” Briec turned to Gwenvael. “Get what we need and then let’s go.”
For more than a week he’d had to put up with his two younger brothers. For more than a week he’d listened to constant arguing, complaining, debating and whining. More than any one dragon should ever have to endure. True, they’d gotten much information, enough to satisfy Fearghus’ needs he was sure. But Briec wanted to return to his den. He had much sulking left to do, and his idiot kin wouldn’t give him a moment’s peace to get on with it. The sooner he handed off the information and left these treacherous humans to their petty little lives, the better he’d feel.