Understanding the desire to never feel defenseless again, Izzy nodded and ate more of the oxen that was their dinner. It was good and she found the spices quite interesting.
“Tell us, Izzy,” Maskini asked, “how did you become a general of three legions?”
Izzy swallowed the food in her mouth and replied, “Killed a lot.”
Éibhear winced at Izzy’s answer. Even worse, she didn’t seem to notice that everyone had stopped in mid-chew, all of them looking at each other.
“What Izzy means is—”
“What I mean is I killed. A lot. That’s what I do. No one sends in Izzy the Dangerous to keep the peace or hold a line. They send me and my troops in to decimate. If they want to keep the peace, they send in General Borden of the Tenth and Thirteenth Legions.”
“And this started for you . . . when?” Zarah asked.
“Well.” She took another bite of oxen, thought a moment. “I killed my first Northland dragon when I was seventeen. With the help of me mum.”
Zachariah blinked. “You killed a dragon with Talaith?”
“Uh-huh. Right after that I was assigned to a legion as a private. Then when the war against the Irons and Sovereigns started, I became Annwyl’s squire and that’s when things became . . .” Izzy looked up at the ceiling, puffed out her cheeks a bit, and finally finished with, “Well . . . yeah. It’s been a while.”
“All right.” Zarah focused on Éibhear. “And what about you, Prince Éibhear?”
Izzy giggled, but he ignored her and said, “You can just call me Éibhear. We don’t really use titles. Well . . . my mother does, but that’s because she really likes her title.”
“I see. And do you serve in your mother’s army?”
Éibhear cleared his throat. “Sort of.”
“What does ‘sort of’ mean?” Zachariah demanded.
“I’m Mì-runach.”
“What’s that?”
“Berserkers,” Izzy volunteered.
“We are not berserkers.”
“They fight nak*d,” she went on. “Bare handed in the middle of battle.”
“We do not.” He looked at the family staring at him. “We don’t. I promise.”
“I have a question,” one of the teen boys asked. “How did you find one of our battle dogs?”
“Is that what I’m smelling?” Maskini complained, now peering under the table, where Macsen had been for most of the dinner. “All this time I thought it was the damn dragon.”
“Well, I haven’t had a chance to bathe in a few days,” Éibhear shot back, insulted.
Ignoring that, Izzy asked the boy, “Your battle dog?”
“This is a Desert Land battle dog. You’ll find them in almost every army in the region.”
“Really? I found him near the Western Mountains when my legions were battling one of the horse tribes.”
“He was a long way from home then.”
“Are you sure he’s not really a demon?” Éibhear had to ask.
Izzy threw up her hands, but the boy nodded and asked, “The rock eating?”
“And he chewed up the head of my steel axe.” Éibhear looked at Izzy. “By the way, you owe me an axe.”
“I told you not to leave your weapons out. The dog can only resist temptation for so long.”
“They’re excellent battle dogs,” Zarah explained. “Absolutely loyal to their masters until their last breath. I had one for years that I adored. Although he smelled and insisted on chewing up diamonds. I could never take him into the jewelry district with me because he’d leap up on the displays and gobble up all the diamonds.” She shook her head. “Never liked the rubies, though, which I always found much prettier.”
“See?” Izzy asked Éibhear, sounding quite proud. “He’s a dog from a mighty line of battle dogs.”
“He smells,” Éibhear reminded her. “Even after you bathe him, he smells and he drools and we won’t even discuss the gas problem.”
“Ahh!” Zarah cheered. “I’ve got something that will help with the gas.”
“But not the smell and drool?”
Zarah grimaced a little at Éibhear’s question. “That you’ll just have to learn to live with, I’m afraid.”
“Yeah, you’ll have to learn to live with that, Uncle Éibhear,” Zachariah grumbled while the other males glared.
Éibhear began to look over at Izzy, but he saw her twist her lips and he knew she was trying not to laugh. And if he looked at her now, they’d both laugh and be unable to stop. So he kept looking straight ahead and praying that this damn dinner would end soon.
“Do you think I’ll be able to meet with Haldane tomorrow?”
“We can try,” Layla said, walking Izzy down a hall filled with bedrooms. Éibhear had left Izzy alone for a couple of hours with her family. She didn’t know where he’d gone. He’d simply slipped out—for such a large man, he did move like a jungle cat—and she hadn’t seen him since. But she appreciated it. She appreciated the chance to get to know her birth father’s kin. To hear stories about him as a young man and to hear about his love for a young Talaith. Even then her mother had been a beauty and, according to Maskini, a rebel. She’d fought against the Nolwenn restrictions from the very beginning and had been admired for it. When Izzy’s father had died in battle and Talaith, pregnant with Izzy, had gone missing, the family had been devastated. Izzy knew it bothered them to hear her call Briec “Dad” or “Daddy,” but they also seemed to understand that he’d been the only father she’d really known. And, more importantly, he’d been a good father to her. He’d protected her and Talaith. They cared more about that than what Izzy chose to call anyone.
“Haldane has never been—”
“Human?”
Layla laughed. “Some might say.”
They stopped at the last room at the end of the hallway. “Listen, Izzy, the family was wondering about Macsen—”
“I’m so sorry he ate that chair.”
“No, no. That’s not really a problem. But we were wondering if you’d mind if we borrow him tomorrow for a bit.”
“Borrow him?”
“We have several females at the Imperial Guards Dog Kennels that are currently in heat. Maybe we could drop him off on our way over to the temple. Maybe leave him for the night?”
“You want to have my dog alone with a bunch of lusty bitches?”
“I like to occasionally bring in some new blood,” Layla said around a little laugh, “and Macsen is an exceptional specimen.”
Izzy frowned. “He is?”
“For our battle dogs, yes. In fact, you could probably sell him to a private breeder for an astounding amount of gold.”
“Oh, I’d never give him up, but . . .” Izzy frowned again. “Really? You want Macsen?” She shook her head. “Anyway, I think he’d be more than happy to help out the Imperial Guards.... He’s giving that way.”
“Of course he is.” She pushed open the bedroom door. “You can sleep here for the night.”
“And Éibhear?”
“He’s down for the night in a room up the hall.” Layla cleared her throat. “Father insisted. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
Izzy stepped into her room, but stumbled to a stop.
“Is something wrong?” Layla asked Izzy, her face etched with concern.
“Uh . . .” She rubbed her nose. “No. It’s . . . um . . . lovely.”
“Do you need anything?”
“No, no. Not at all. I’m fine. This is great. Thank you.”
Layla smiled at her. “Iseabail . . . I can’t tell you how glad I am you found your way home.” Izzy began to speak, but she cut her off. “I know you can’t stay. But maybe you can visit? Spend some time with the family? I look at you and I see my little brother. I don’t want to lose that again.”
Izzy hugged her newfound aunt. “You won’t.”
“Good. Good.” Layla stepped away from her. “Sleep well, Izzy.”
“You, too. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Layla walked out and Izzy closed the door, turned, and folded her arms over chest.
“Are you insane?” she whispered to the dragon in human form sprawled on her bed.
“Who knew your Desert Land family was tougher to get around than my own? They put me on the other side of the house!”
“Which is where you should be. In your own room.”
“I’ve been sleeping with you for the last few nights. Why would I change that now?”
She walked to the bed. “Because,” she explained, still whispering, “I think it would be rude to f**k under their roof when clearly they’re not okay with it.”
“Who said anything about f**king?”
Frowning, Izzy asked, “You just want to sleep with me?”
“If I hope to sleep well . . .” He patted the bed. “I promise, just sleep.”
“Where’s Macsen?”
“Under the bed and quite comfortable.”
“Under the bed?”
“He’s not outside, is he?” Éibhear gazed at her with those silver eyes. “Don’t make me sleep alone, Izzy.”
Gods, how could she resist that? Pathetic weakling that she was. It was the blue hair. It had to be the blue hair. She’d been enamored of it since she’d first met him. And if he lost it all? Well . . . all right. Perhaps she’d still be attracted to him, but she doubted she’d be so weak about where she slept and with whom.
Removing her travel clothes, Izzy slipped on a long cotton shirt that reached her knees and got onto the bed with Éibhear. She turned away from him and he settled in behind her, his arm around her waist, his face buried against the back of her neck.
“You worried about tomorrow?” he asked.
“Probably more than I should be.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be there every step of the way.”
“To protect me from my grandmother or my grandmother from me?”
Soft lips kissed the back of her neck before she heard, “Both.”
Annwyl sat up in her bed, a book open on her lap. Fearghus would be coming home late tonight, but that just meant she had a little time to herself to read. Unlike most nights when she ended up happily wrestling with Fearghus.
In fact, she was so looking forward to some time to herself, when she heard that knock on her bedroom door, she sighed and crossed her eyes before she said, “What?”
The door opened and to Annwyl’s surprise, her son stuck his head in. “Hello, Mum. Got a minute?”
“Of course. Come in.” She put a leather strip in her book to mark her place and put the book aside.
“What are you reading?” he asked.
“A history about wars in the Eastlands.”