A Tale of Two Dragons
“You don’t think we’re coming with you?” Crystin snapped, suddenly appearing quite annoyed. “Do you really think we’d let you meet that Red bitch on your own?”
“Auntie Crystin—”
“Shut up. You ramble like your mother sometimes.”
Braith looked up at him. “I ramble?”
“Not compared to my people,” Addolgar admitted.
Crystin faced her sisters. “We need to get these three idiots back to Devenallt Mountain without breaking our backs in the process. Any suggestions?”
“Aye,” Owena said. “I’ve got one.” She held out her claw to Addolgar. “Give us your ax, yeah?”
Addolgar took a step back. “Owena . . . no.”
“Just give us your ax. We’ll take care of the rest.”
Disgusted, but not seeing much option, he looked at Braith. “And are you all right with that?”
His She-dragon shrugged her shoulders and replied, “Eh.”
Addolgar decided to take that as a yes.
Braith winced as Crystin tossed the bags holding the heads of her father and two brothers at the foot of Addiena’s throne.
The Queen glared down at the remains for a long moment before she focused that glare on Crystin. “Really?”
“As requested, Your Majesty. The traitor Elder Emyr and his sons.”
“I wanted them alive . . . and would you two stop that!” Addiena suddenly bellowed.
They all turned and watched Bercelak and Ghleanna pull apart. Blood dripped from Bercelak’s snout, and one side of Ghleanna’s jaw was swollen. It seemed that the siblings had been fighting since Braith and Addolgar had left, much to the Queen’s annoyance—and Braith’s perverse sense of justice. Perhaps Addiena would now be less inclined to take so many hostages after this.
Bercelak pointed a damning black talon at his sister. “She started it, Your Majesty.”
“I started it?” Ghleanna screeched. “You’re such a big baby!”
“Your Majesty!”
“That is enough!” Addiena roared. She pointed her claw at Ghleanna. “Over there!” she ordered the She-dragon, motioning across her hall.
“But, Your Majesty—”
“Ghleanna! Move!”
With a nasty snarl at her brother, Ghleanna stomped across the hall.
Addiena let out a very long and pain-filled breath.
After she seemed a tad calmer, she focused back on Braith, her kin, and Addolgar.
“Now where was I?” she asked.
“You said you wanted them alive,” Brigida the Foul answered for Braith and the others as she slowly made her way across the hall. “But truth be told, Your Majesty, you actually agreed to dead or alive. And the Penardduns went with dead.”
Addiena glowered at Brigida, but she couldn’t argue something that everyone who’d been in the throne room that day had heard. Especially in front of the other Elders, who were watching Addiena closely to see how she handled this. Many of them had offspring of their own, and unlike Braith’s father, they did not want to think that their actions could affect their children the way Emyr’s had been impacting Braith.
Tapping one talon against her stone throne, the Queen eyed the group standing before her. Finally, she demanded, “And what of Lady Katarina? Her father is most worried about her.”
“The—” Braith began, but Brigida, who now stood beside her, cut in quickly.
“Tragically, Your Majesty, she was taken. By the Lightnings,” Brigida added with a sneer.
“The Lightnings? They took her? Are you saying she was used as a bargaining chip by Emyr?”
Brigida blinked and glanced at the Penardduns.
“Ripped from us, she was,” Owena elaborated. “It was so sad, watching those bastards fly off with her. But we were too late to get her back.”
“And who,” Addiena demanded, her eyes narrowing dangerously, “took her?”
Brigida, holding on to her walking stick, leaned in and announced, “Olgeir, Your Majesty. Dragonlord of the Olgeirsson Horde.”
Shocked, because Braith had no idea why the name of that bloody Horde was being used at this moment, Braith glanced at Addolgar. But he gave a very tiny shake of his head and they both kept silent.
The Queen’s front claws dug into the stone of her throne. “First,” she growled, “they take Davon the Gold. Then they have the gall to take Katarina the Gold as well?”
The Queen looked down, her claws still digging into her throne. She stayed like that for a long bit, but then, suddenly, she raised those blue eyes until she was looking right at Braith. And, in that moment, Braith understood. She understood that the Queen knew they were all lying. She knew it, and she didn’t care. Because she was going to use this to her benefit.
With a blink, the Queen assumed her most put-upon expression as she looked over her court.
“This cannot be borne,” she told them in her most queenly voice. “They cross borders to steal what is ours. And that is not something that we can tolerate. That we will tolerate.” She briefly scanned the chamber until her eyes locked on Bercelak. “Captain Bercelak,” she said, “you will lead my troops into the north and give the Olgeirsson Horde a taste of the Southland’s wrath.”
Bercelak nodded. “It will be my pleasure, Your Majesty.”
“Your Majesty,” one of the Elders interrupted, “you said it yourself, if we attack the Lightnings on their own territory, they will consider it an act of war.”