Gaius nodded at two dragons. “See those two over there?”
Brannie nodded. “Aye.”
“They’re my cousins and loyal to Vateria. Kill them both.”
“Okay,” Brannie said, rather happily.
“She likes her job,” Marina noted.
Gaius agreed. “She really does.”
The suns were high in the sky by the time they made it out of the mountain on the Southland side. Gaius expected a great battle to still be raging. Instead, he found a massacre.
He faced a sheepish Brannie. “They didn’t wait twenty-four hours.”
“I see that.”
“It worked in our favor, though,” Aidan pointed out.
“I thought Brannie told you to shut up,” Gaius reminded Aidan.
“Yes, sir.”
“You see I’m trying to make a point here.”
“Which I do understand, King Gaius. But it might be more effective if it wasn’t a bunch of Cadwaladrs slaughtering the fanatics that aren’t already dead.”
“They’re not all Cadwaladrs,” Brannie noted. “It’s my Uncle Rhys’s battalion.”
Aidan cringed and Gaius gawked.
“Your uncle Rhys? Rhys the Hammer?”
She cleared her throat. “Yeah. I see him over there . . . ripping that dragon into two distinct pieces.”
“So in future . . .” Gaius prompted.
“I’ll think before I contact me mum.”
“That’s all I ask. This works in our favor today, but next time it could be an entire village of uninvolved humans that your Uncle Rhys goes after. And that would just make us look bad. So . . . keep that in mind. Yes?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Brannie and Aidan walked away to help the Dragon Queen’s battalion finish off the rest of the fanatics, and Gaius smiled down at Kachka.
“As a king,” he explained to her, “you’re always teaching the young.”
“You are full of much shit, dragon.”
Gaius laughed. “I know!”
Chapter Thirty
Queen Annwyl sat beside Queen Rhiannon on the stairs that led to the Great Hall. Together they silently watched the day-to-day goings-on of Garbhán Isle. Annwyl didn’t know how long they’d been there.
Finally, Rhiannon said, “So it’s begun.”
“Yes. They attacked the Stone Castle in the Western Mountains. We’ll know more when Gaius gets back with Brannie and the others. They should be here soon.”
“I see.”
“And, right now, Fearghus is meeting with Bercelak, his generals, and Brastias, of course.”
“Good. What about Brigida?”
“Talan will handle the Armies of the Abominations. Which, by the way, is what they named themselves. They think it sounds terrifying.”
“Well, it kind of does.”
“True.”
“And Talwyn?”
“She’ll be with me.”
“Good. Excellent.” Rhiannon brushed her hair from her face. “We have training on our side.”
“We do. But they have fanatics willing to die for their cause. And they have a lot of them. More and more coming every day to join their ranks. We can’t underestimate them.”
“No. No. We can’t.”
Taking Rhiannon’s hand with both of her own, Annwyl said, “Don’t worry, Rhiannon. You just have to remember one important thing.”
“And what’s that?”
“I am crazier than any of them.”
Laughing, Rhiannon put her arm around Annwyl’s shoulders. “Excellent point, dear Annwyl. Excellent point.”
Fearghus stood with Briec and éibhear. The three brothers were trying to figure out how they were going to handle a dilemma.
“We have to come up with something,” Briec finally said, annoyed. “We can’t just stand here.”
“It’ll be ugly,” éibhear reminded them. “Remember last time?”
“Then we should have someone else do it.”
“Who?”
Fearghus looked around and immediately saw them. They were perfect.
“Got it.”
Dagmar walked quickly down the hall toward her study. She had so much on her mind, she barely noticed the screams.
“No! You can’t! Please! No!”
Dagmar froze, her dogs stopping with her. She ran back to the library she’d just passed, and shoved the door open.
They had him pinned to the big table. Two holding him down, another holding the axe.
“Dagmar! Save me!”
They paused, looking at her, waiting for her to stop them.
But . . . she couldn’t. Cringing, knowing this was just the beginning of the nightmare, Dagmar . . . nodded.
“Nooooooooooooooooooo!”
The axe fell and the Rider, Nika, grabbed the golden hair she’d just cut from the head of Gwenvael the Handsome.
“See?” she said. “That was not so bad, was it, beautiful dragon?”
“Vipers!” Gwenvael accused the women, yanking his arms free. “Horrible, vicious vipers!”
He stalked to the door, stopping beside Dagmar. “And you!”
“I know you’re angry, but Bercelak will never allow you to lead one of his legions with all that hair.”
Gwenvael pointed a damning finger. “This betrayal will never be forgotten.”
“Gwenvael—”
“Ever!”