“But—”
“That’s it!” he cut in. “I’l hear no more. I’m going with you. Just accept it.”
“Fine. Then let’s make a few things clear before we go any farther.” She placed the butt of her spear in the ground, gripping it tight. “I know this wil be hard for that thick Northland head of yours to get around, but I’m a soldier of the Dragon Queen’s army and I’ve survived more than two centuries without you stepping in to protect me during every battle that comes my way. That I won’t tolerate. Watch my back, yeah. But that’s it.
Understand?”
“You watch my back, Fire Breather, and I’l watch yours. And I’m not about to get in the middle of any of your fights if I don’t have to.” He motioned to her spear. “You’ve stabbed me enough with that thing.”
“Yeah, but that first time was an accident. Can’t promise that if I do it again.”
“Fair enough.” He looked around, shrugged. “So what do we do now?”
“Keep moving. The quicker we get to Morfyd, the better. We’d do better on horseback, but with you and your problems with horses . . .”
“What’s that mean?”
“You just knocked one out.”
“I was keeping him quiet.”
Shaking her head, Rhona crouched down again and fil ed her canteen with fresh water. Once done, she stood and started running again. “Come on, Lightning,” she cal ed back to him. “Move that ass. We haven’t got al night!” She heard him sigh and mutter, “I hate running,” and then he was by her side, keeping pace with her as they headed deep into the border territory between the Southlands and the Western Plains.
“Where is she?”
Eirianwen, goddess of war, stepped over the bodies of the fal en and went to her mate, Rhydderch Hael, fathergod of al dragons. As she walked toward him, Eir, as she’d done since time began, admired the beauty of his form. A black dragon with scales that glistened in the dying light of the two suns; twelve bright, white horns atop his head; black mane of hair with the shades of every color in the spectrum streaked throughout, long and sweeping along the blood-soaked ground. She couldn’t see his tail, it reached too far back at the moment, but it always reminded her of her favorite broadsword. Big, wide, with a blade of a tip that could destroy anything it touched.
Yet Eir’s love of the dragon didn’t mean she’d take his centaur shit. “And hel o to you, my love.”
“Don’t play me about, Eir,” he lashed back. “Where is she?”
“Who? Who are you going on about?”
“Annwyl the Bloody.”
“Oh. Your pet.” Eir put her sword back in its scabbard. “I have no idea where she is.”
“Eir—”
“I don’t! She’s not my concern. She’s your concern.”
“Don’t start that again. She was dead and you brought her back!”
“I did that for Dagmar Reinholdt.”
“Your pet.” His gaze moved around the battlefield. “You’ve been busy, I see.”
“The beauty of this world is that there are so many wars for me to choose from.”
“So what’s going on in Euphrasia Val ey . . . ?”
“That is not my war, lover. Although I have been entertained. Such strategists both sides have.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You know who this comes down to, Rhy. He’s always wanted your power. To emulate your reign.”
“How far do you think he’d go?”
“Do you mean do I think he’d abscond with your little pet?”
“Feel free to stop cal ing her that.”
“No. I don’t think he has the guts to do that.”
“But?”
“What makes you think Annwyl would only attract you or someone out to get you? As far as the rest of the gods are concerned, you’ve tossed her aside. That means she’s available to any god who can entice her to join forces. She’s a powerful al y among the humans.” Eir pressed her hand against her consort’s neck. “Do you want me to look into it?” She grinned. “Wars are my area.”
“What about the carnage here?”
“Eh.” She shrugged. “When you’ve seen one battlefield with corpses, you’ve seen them al .” Rhy looked off, then shook his head. “No. You’re right. She’s no longer my concern.”
“As you wish.” She kissed his snout, walked away.
“Where’s Nannulf?” he asked her as she stepped over the corpses in search of souls to take.
“No idea. Nannulf the wolf-god may be my traveling companion, lover, but we aren’t joined at the hip. But I’m sure he’s around somewhere. . . .”
Chapter 14
It was midafternoon when Morfyd finished putting the last few things into the bag that held her most important Magickal items.
At least she hoped it was the last few. She looked around the tent she’d cal ed home for five years now and searched for anything she might be leaving behind. She could be forgetful that way. Especial y when she was under a lot of stress. And since Annwyl had decided to go off on her own, Morfyd had been nothing but stressed.
She heard the tent flap pul back and she said to her apprentice, “Lol y, are you sure I have everything?”
“Cousin.”
Morfyd looked up and blinked in surprise. “Rhona?” She went to her cousin, who, like Morfyd, was in human form and dressed. She hugged her.
“Gods. What are you doing here?”
“Your mother sent me.” Her cousin frowned. “Didn’t she tel you?”
“No, al I knew was that she was sending help.”
Of course Morfyd thought the help would be more like Ren or one of her mother’s apprentices. Not . . .
Oh, hel s. Did it matter? At this point, did anything matter but getting that damn female back where she belonged? With her bloody troops!
Morfyd went to the middle of the tent, raised her hand, and unleashed a smal spel that would seal the area around the tent with a barrier, giving them some privacy for a few minutes. That’s when she heard a smal roar and a “Gods-dammit!” from outside her tent. Her cousin cleared her throat and smirked. It was nearly a smile.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m not alone. But you’ve just entertained me greatly.”
Morfyd released the spel and a few seconds later, a purple-haired dragon in human form stumbled into her tent. A Lightning, rubbing his big Lightning head.
“You could have told her I was out there,” he accused Rhona.
“I could have.... Didn’t though, did I?”
“Viperous . . .” He gritted his teeth and nodded at Morfyd. “My lady.”
It took Morfyd a moment, but then she asked, “Vigholf?” It was hard to tel with his hair grown back—the hair he’d lost to Annwyl’s sword. Annwyl, as usual, had attacked first upon seeing the Lightnings on her territory. By the time she was done, Vigholf had lost his hair—luckily not his head—
and his cousin Meinhard had a broken leg. In fact, Annwyl stil had the Lightning’s hair sprouting from the top of her battle helm.
Morfyd looked to her cousin. “Why is he here?”
“Because I apparently can’t do anything on my own.”
“I didn’t say that. When did I say that? ”
“Do not screech at me.”
“I do not screech!”
Morfyd held up her hand. “Stop it. Both of you.” She put the spel that would protect them from the outside world back in place. “Let’s try this again, shal we?” She pointed at Rhona. “You’re here to help me with my problem. Yes?”
“Aye.”
“And you”—she pointed at Vigholf—“you’re here to . . .”
“Help her help you with your problem.”
Morfyd flapped her hands impatiently. “Oh, whatever. Whatever way you two want to do this is fine by me. But I need you to get Annwyl. Even now her army asks where the hel s she is.”
“They can’t function without her?” Rhona asked, appearing a tad disgusted at Annwyl’s troops.
“Of course they can. But if fighting the Sovereigns these past years has proven one thing it’s that if we want to win, Annwyl needs to lead them into battle.” Morfyd began to pace. Something she’d done a lot of lately. “Not only that, but if her troops arrive in Euphrasia Val ey without Annwyl, my brother wil leave my mother’s troops to go looking for her. Fol owed by Briec and Ghleanna once they find their daughters have gone with Annwyl. I don’t know how to explain it any better,” she told them. “I just need Annwyl back and—” Rhona stepped in front of her, took Morfyd’s hands in her own. Morfyd hadn’t even realized she’d been wringing them.
“Listen wel to me, cousin. I’ve been given my orders. Find Annwyl. Bring her back. And that is exactly what I plan to do. Even if that means razing the entire Provinces and leaving no Sovereign or Iron alive. That’s what I’l do.” And gods, Morfyd knew the truth of that. Give this She-dragon an order and she fol owed it like her very life depended on it—and gods protect those who dare step in her path.
The pretty witch suddenly wrapped her arms around her kin, giving her a desperate hug. What no one wanted to say out loud, but Vigholf knew the truth of, was that they didn’t need Annwyl back to lead her troops. Instead, what they needed was not to have the remains of a crucified Annwyl lobbed at her armies. Nothing ruined morale more than having the head of your leader tossed at you.
“It’l be al right,” Rhona soothed, rubbing her cousin’s back. “I promise. I’l find her.”
“When wil you leave?” Morfyd asked, pul ing away from her kin.
“Now.”
“Do you need anything?”
“Can you afford to spare anything?”
Morfyd shook her head. “Not real y. The troops took the bulk of our remaining supplies for the trip.”
“Then we’l get what we need on the road. Now what I need to know from you, cousin, is where you think Annwyl went.” Morfyd eased farther away from Rhona, eyes downcast. “Uh . . .”
“Uh? Uh . . . what?”
“That’s a little tricky.”
“Right. She headed into the Provinces. We know that.”
“No. I mean, yes.”
Rhona glanced at Vigholf.
“Where is she, Morfyd?” Rhona pushed.
“She headed into the west, yes. Toward the Provinces. But I think—I’m not sure—but I think she’s not heading into the Provinces.”
“Then where is she headed?”
“Around the Provinces. I think she’s gone to find someone. Someone she thinks can help her.”
“Who, Morfyd? Spit it out.”
Morfyd faced her cousin. “Gaius Lucius Domitus.”
Again Rhona looked to him and al Vigholf could do was shrug.
“Who is that?” Rhona asked.