As the mother and daughter moved around, swords clashing, Rhiannon suddenly stalked between them, separating the pair.
Annwyl looked at Dagmar. “What’s happening?” When Dagmar’s only reply was a shrug, Annwyl rolled her eyes. “Are you still playing that game with me?”
“I really don’t know what she’s doing.”
“Where is she?” Rhiannon demanded.
Annwyl faced her fellow queen. “Where’s who?”
Rhiannon crossed her arms over her chest. “Mingxia.”
Dagmar had no idea who that was until Morfyd asked, “The war god?”
“The Eastland dragon war god.”
Talaith made a tsk-tsk sound. “Is there any god you’re not involved with, Annwyl?”
“She’s just been helping. Teaching me new battle skills. I don’t see the problem.”
“Do you want to tell her the problem, granddaughter?” Rhiannon asked Talwyn.
“Nope.”
And that’s what Dagmar loved about her niece. She didn’t know anyone more straightforward.
“She’s been using Talwyn behind your back,” Rhiannon accused.
Talwyn let out an annoyed sigh. “No. She hasn’t.”
“Sending you out to fetch the eyes of Chramnesind? Like one of Dagmar’s dogs?”
“My dogs don’t fetch.”
Rhiannon waved at Dagmar to shut her up.
“That’s not even close to what happened,” Talwyn replied, putting down her weapons and reaching for a carafe of water. She poured a chalice full and handed it to her mother. Then poured one for herself.
“Then what did happen?”
Talwyn glanced at Annwyl and the queen shrugged. “Might as well tell her now. Before she tears the house apart in one of her tantrums.”
“I don’t have tantrums. I have fierce rage.”
“I didn’t find anything out from Mingxia. It was from Brigida.”
“Brigida told you?”
“No. We just . . . got it.”
“We?” Talaith’s eyes narrowed. “You mean you, Talan, and Rhi?”
“Things come to us. We hear things. It’s not a big deal.”
“It is,” Rhiannon insisted. “It could change everything.”
“How?” Dagmar asked.
“Any talisman from a god is powerful. Especially something stolen. If these things fall into the wrong claws—”
“They won’t.”
“You are the wrong claws, my dear.”
“I’m aware, Grandmother,” Talwyn shot back and even Dagmar could tell she was a bit hurt. “Which is why the three of us aren’t going after it. We sent someone else. Someone with no magicks in her blood.”
That’s when everyone looked at Dagmar.
“I don’t fetch either,” Dagmar reminded them all.
“Not Dagmar. We needed a warrior. And although she has a warrior’s heart, Auntie Dagmar was panting running after Grandmum.”
“She has very long legs!”
“We sent Kachka Shestakova,” Talwyn said.
“You sent the Scourge of the Gods after this . . . thing?”
“It seems fitting.”
“Dear Kachka Shestakova is the Scourge of the Gods?” the Rider called Nika asked. “How impressive for her! If her mother were not dead, killed by you, Mad Queen, she would be so proud!”
Rhiannon’s entire body tensed. “Who are they?” she asked, pointing a damning finger at the three outsiders.
“They are three Riders who have come to follow me into battle so that they may have an honorable death.”
“You have suicidal Riders hanging around you now?”
“There is no honor in suicide!”
“Again, you are talking to me, giant woman! And I thought Bercelak said we forced the giants underground!”
“Mother,” Morfyd admonished.
“Can we all just be calm?” Dagmar finally asked.
“You don’t understand—”
“Rhiannon, I understand that your three oldest grand offspring are no longer children. They’re adults and they’re part of the game now.” Dagmar walked over to her niece, stared up at her. She was a little taller than Annwyl. But not by much. “I’m sure Talwyn is doing what’s best for the family.”
“And if this doesn’t work?” Morfyd asked, her voice quiet.
“Then we’ll have a bigger fight than we were planning on.” Annwyl gestured back toward the house. “So if you don’t mind . . . my daughter and I have work to do.”
With Annwyl effectively ending the conversation, all Rhiannon could do was snarl before stomping off, Morfyd and Talaith following behind her.
Dagmar looked over at the three Riders. “Could you please excuse us?”
“No,” Nika replied.
Dagmar’s dogs, glaring at the Riders, began to growl even though Dagmar hadn’t said a word.
“Get something to eat,” Annwyl ordered, and without question, the Riders did as she bade.
“When you go off to battle, they will be going with you, yes?” Dagmar asked, nearly pleaded.
Annwyl laughed. “I promise.”
“One of them,” Talwyn whispered, “took down a male elk with her bare hands. I thought she was hungry . . . but she was just playing with it. The way I like to play with your dogs.”
Dagmar looked up at her friend. “Annwyl—”
“I know.”