“Pull that young man out of your house. Bit of a scary one that boy, so I don’t really blame your father. He’s always been so protective of you and your—”
“Which direction did they go?”
“Down toward the river but—”
Izzy didn’t wait for Mistress Sally to finish, she just ran, charging around her neighbors and some Garbhán Isle guards, Annwyl’s troops, and even a few relatives. She ran until she hit the road that would take her to the river.
She heard Brannie call out to her, but she ignored her as well and kept going. Kept going with visions of a bloody and limb-missing Éibhear dancing through her head. Gods! What if they cut off his wings? Or removed his scales? Oh, by the gods, what if they shaved his head? What if they shaved his head? Nooooo!
Izzy had known her father wouldn’t be happy about any of this, neither would Fearghus and Gwenvael, but she’d planned to put it all out in the open once they got Rhi squared away in the Desert Lands.
But for them to find out this way . . . oy!
Izzy cut off into the woods and ran down the hill. But as she neared the river, she stumbled to a stop. Standing there, lifting a battered Fearghus off the ground was some . . . well, she’d guess, Northland dragon scum. Ragnar and his kin might be welcome in the Southlands, but Lightnings who come to beat up Izzy’s family were not. Pulling her sword and axe, Izzy silently charged forward. She was no more than a few feet from the Lightning when he caught sight of her. He dropped Fearghus and reached for his weapon, but Izzy was already swinging at him with her axe. She didn’t make contact, though, because a heavy hammer slammed into her weapon, forcing it to the ground. The power of that hit radiated up her arm and she had to drop the axe. But she still had the sword. She spun and slashed the sword. The Lightning blocked it, but Izzy forced him back. Another Northlander came at her from behind, so Izzy went low, cutting the back of the hammer-wielder’s leg. He cried out and dropped to one knee. Izzy quickly stood and brought her knee up into the Lightning’s face. Her opponent fell back and she snatched the hammer off him. Now brandishing two weapons again, Izzy turned and . . . stopped dead. The Lightnings had multiplied rather quickly, going from about four to forty or so. They all stood watching her with the hoods of their fur capes covering their faces, their weapons out and ready to use.
Izzy took a step back, briefly studied the Lightnings—then she attacked. Charging at the closest one. But before she reached him, she sensed someone behind her and changed direction, running toward a small boulder. She ran at it until she could place her foot against it, shoved off to give her some height, and spun in midair. Which was about where that big arm snatched her out of the air and held her.
“Izzy!” Éibhear’s voice practically screamed at her. “What the bloody hells are you doing?”
Realizing it was Éibhear, Izzy relaxed. “These Lightnings attacked Fearghus.”
Éibhear rolled his eyes. “No. I beat up Fearghus, along with Briec and Gwenvael. And before you say anything, they started it. And these aren’t Lightnings. They’re the rest of the Mì-runach. Mum wants them to escort Rhi into the Southlands.”
“Oh! Oh.” Cringing, Izzy looked at the dragon whose leg she’d cut. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right.” The dragon got to his feet. “It’ll heal.”
Éibhear put her on the ground. “Lads, this is General Iseabail. Iseabail . . . these are the lads.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said, returning to the dragon whom she’d not only cut but whose hammer she’d stolen. She handed it back to him. “Nice. Rhona’s work?”
“Aye.” The dragon shook his head. “I can’t believe you lifted it on your own.”
“Well, that was . . . Daddy!” Izzy ran over to a tree no more than twenty or so feet away, where her poor father hung over one of the lower branches. “Éibhear the Contemptible, you get my father down from there!”
“He started it!”
“Oy—” Gregor the Appalling motioned Éibhear over. “That her then? That your Izzy?”
Aidan had been filling the rest of the Mì-runach in on what had happened in the Desert Lands, somehow managing to mention Éibhear’s change in status as now mated. Éibhear wasn’t sure how far the details had gotten before his three brothers had dragged him down to the river, not far from the rest of the Mì-runach. His brothers didn’t know the Mì-runach had set up camp here, but it didn’t matter. His comrades wouldn’t interfere in a sibling fight anyway, not that Éibhear needed them to. Not once he knew that the four brothers were far enough away from Izzy’s house that he didn’t have to worry about her protecting Briec.
“Aye. That’s her.”
“She carried my lovely girl.” Gregor held up his “lovely girl”—his hammer. It was not a healthy relationship Gregor had with his favorite weapon. No. Not healthy at all.
“I saw.”
“I bet that thing ain’t even that heavy,” a new, untested recruit challenged. “If some girl can pick it up.”
To see if the lad had a point, Gregor threw his hammer at the recruit’s head, splitting his skull open, and leaving the lad moaning in pain on the ground.
“Guess it’s heavy enough then,” Gregor reasoned.
“I think so,” Éibhear agreed.
“Hey.” Gregor smiled at him. “Why don’t we take your girl to find something to eat? So she can get to know us a bit.”
That actually sounded like a good idea. These were the kind of warriors Izzy was most comfortable around anyway.
“Izzy,” Éibhear called to his mate. “Let’s go get something to eat.”
“What about Daddy and the others?”
“They’ll live.” Éibhear tilted his head. “Come on.”
Her lips pursed, Izzy briefly debated, but after less than a minute, she ran to Éibhear’s side. “I am hungry.”
He put his arm around her. “Mì-runach!” he bellowed so they could all hear him. “We go to eat!”
The Mì-runach cheered and headed toward town. Éibhear started to follow, but Izzy pulled away from him and ran back to his brothers.
“Sorry, Daddy,” she said to Briec before she put her hand against his forehead and shoved him off the tree limb he’d been hanging off.
Once done, she ran back to Éibhear’s side and put her arm around his waist. “Sorry,” she said when they began walking again. “I just couldn’t leave him like that.”
“It’s all right. It’s nice that someone cares about those mean bastards.”
“I won’t say it’s easy . . . but they are family.”
Chapter 46
Éibhear watched his kin say good-bye to Rhi and the twins. It tore his heart, knowing how hard it was. But they all knew it had to be done. Although it wasn’t clear yet what the future held for the three, he knew they had to get ready for whatever was heading their way.
The plan at this point was quite simple. They’d all leave together, but once on the main road, Éibhear, Izzy, the Mì-runach, and Izzy’s birth family would head to the south, while the Kyvich would take the twins north. Talan would split off from his sister and meet the monks somewhere in the Northlands and then take a secret route to their monastery far past the Sovereign Provinces. The rest of Éibhear’s kin, including his brothers, sisters, parents, and Cadwaladr Clan, would stay in Dark Plains. They all seemed to know that for them to stretch this good-bye out any more would only make it more painful.
What Éibhear and Izzy would do after that he didn’t know. They were now mated for life, and no other female would ever be able to fill his heart the way Izzy did. But they were still warriors and the need for battle and blood would last for a long time. Still, Éibhear knew that his Aunt Ghleanna and Uncle Addolgar had managed life with their mates just fine over the centuries, so why couldn’t he and Izzy?
Haldane, sitting on her horse, sighed again loudly. “Can we please get on the road?” she said over the wailing of Rhi and Talaith, who were clinging to each other while Briec patted their backs and rolled his eyes.
Izzy pulled out her sword and started down the stairs toward her grandmother, but Éibhear quickly caught her and pulled her into his arms.
“You have to calm down,” he warned her quietly.
“I kill her now, my worries are pretty much resolved.”
“We have a bigger issue.”
“Which is?”
“Annwyl.”
Izzy glanced over at her queen. “She is being a little quiet.”
“A little?”
Finally, Rhi pulled away from her mother. “I’ll miss you, Mum.”
“You, too. But I’ll be coming to visit. I promise. And don’t let those horrid bitches turn you against your kin.”
“Of course I won’t! Never!”
The sobbing started again and the pair started to throw themselves into each other’s arms, but this time Briec stepped between them and led Rhi down the stairs and to the horse Izzy had picked out for her. He helped his daughter mount the mare, then kissed her cheek.
“We’re only a thought away, my sweetest girl. Please don’t ever forget that.”
“I know, Daddy. And I won’t.”
Now that Rhi was safe on her horse Talan hugged the women of his family. Rhiannon, Morfyd, Keita, Talaith, and Dagmar. Finally, he stepped in front of his mother. “I love you, Mum.”
“I love you, too.”
He hugged her, kissed her cheek. “You’ll hear from me soon.”
“Good.”
He went down the stairs toward the mare waiting for him. Éibhear had picked out a stallion for him, but it kept throwing the boy, so they’d finally settled on one of the big battle mares. The situation told Éibhear a lot about his nephew.
“Talwyn!” the boy called out. “Let’s go.”
Talwyn walked out of the Great Hall. She hugged her father, grandfather, and Gwenvael, nodded at her aunts, grandmother, and her mother. Then she went down the stairs and hugged Briec. But instead of getting on the horse Izzy had chosen for her, she went to the Kyvich and waited for her next orders.
The Nolwenns snorted in disgust—it was official, the Kyvich and the Nolwenns really did loathe each other—and Annwyl’s hands curled into tight fists.
Izzy glanced at Éibhear and then went right to her queen’s side, Aidan moving next to Éibhear’s.
“Mount up, Kyvich!” ordered Bryndís, second in command to Ásta.
“Wait,” Annwyl called out. She walked down the stairs, Izzy right behind her. The Southland Queen went to her daughter and wrapped her arms around her. At first, Talwyn just stood there, her arms at her sides. But then, after a moment, she hugged her mother back. The pair held each other tight.
Annwyl stepped back, pushing her daughter’s never really combed hair out of her face. She kissed her forehead and smiled. Then, without another word, Annwyl released her only daughter, turned, and walked away.