About a Dragon

“You think this was the only band of scavengers roaming these forests, sister?” Annwyl cut in quickly. “They’re one of many. You know that better than most.” To Talaith she said, “Come with us now. We’ll get you some food and some safety. You can decide what you want to do from there. All right?”

She made it sound like a request, but Talaith knew better. Dread filled Talaith’s being. Most of the gods knew she shouldn’t go. But she had no choice.

She had absolutely no choice.

* * *

Briec stared out over his land. As human he sat at the very edge of the highest entrance to his cave. He knew eventually his brothers would arrive, and when they sat next to him, one on either side, he wasn’t surprised. And, he had to admit at least to himself, he was quite grateful.

“What happened?” Éibhear asked.

“What does it look like? She left me.”

Gwenvael leaned over to stare down at the sheer drop to ground level. “Planning to throw yourself from here as human and end it all?”

“Of course not.” He let out a deep sigh. “I just got home, truth be told. I’ve been looking for her for days.”

Éibhear raised one leg and rested his arm on it. “Why did she leave?”

Briec’s head dropped forward in abject misery. “I don’t know.”

He sensed more than saw Gwenvael lean down a bit to get a good look at his face. “Are you really that upset?”

Bellowing in fury, he turned on his brother, “Do I look happy to you?”

His brother held his hands up. “Calm down. I was just asking. I didn’t realize you’d become that attached.”

“How could you not see that?” Éibhear asked. “Lofal the Blind One could have seen that.”

“When has Briec ever cared about a female beyond the bedding?”

“Talaith was different,” Briec seethed.

“Ah, yes. The woman whose name you didn’t even care to know at first.”

“Shut up, Gwenvael. Or you’ll quickly find out if your human body can fly.”

“You sure you’re just not mad because she had the audacity to leave you—Briec the Mighty?”

Normally Briec would shove his brother’s face into the dirt, but he didn’t even feel like doing that. For four days he searched everywhere he could think of for her and nothing. Not even a trace of her. Finally, he gave up and returned back to his lair, which suddenly seemed way too big and extremely lonely. He didn’t realize how much he’d come to enjoy her very presence. The scent of her. Her voice. Her extremely acid tongue. The way she kept tripping on his tail.

But, he kept reminding himself, she left him. She left him when he hadn’t done anything wrong. And she’d actually seemed damn happy when with him. If she hadn’t been, she should have told him in that rude way she had.

“Aren’t you going to hit him?” Éibhear asked.

“I don’t feel like it.”

“Good gods.” Gwenvael stood. “This is worse than we thought, Éibhear. Up, brother.” Gwenvael grabbed Briec’s arm and pulled him to his feet. “There is only one answer for this.”

“Which is?”

“Drinking and eating. The whoring will keep until we get you good and drunk. By the time we’re done, brother, you won’t even remember her name that you didn’t even care to know in the first place.”

Now, why did he doubt that?

* * *

This wasn’t what she expected. Never, in her wildest dreams.

This…this was the Blood Queen of Garbhán Isle? Scourge of the Madron lands? Destroyer of Villages? Demon Killer of Women and Children? She who had blood pacts with the darkest of gods?

This was Annwyl the Bloody?

Talaith watched, fascinated, as Annwyl held onto Morfyd the Witch’s wrists. Morfyd—the Black Witch of Despair, Killer of the Innocent, Annihilator of Souls, and all around Mad Witch of Garbhán Isle or so she was called on the Madron lands—had actually tried to sneak up on Annwyl to put ointment on the nasty wound the queen had across her face. But as soon as the warrior saw her, she squealed and grabbed hold of her. Now Annwyl lay on her back, Morfyd over her, trying her best to get Annwyl to stop being a ten year old.

“If you just let me—”

“No! Get that centaur shit away from me, you demon bitch!”

“Annwyl, I’m not letting you go home to my brother looking like that. You look horrific.”

“He’ll have to love me in spite of it. Now get off!” She shoved and Morfyd tumbled back right into Brastias’ arms. And he looked damn pleased to have her right there.

“That’s it.” Morfyd stood, straightened her robes and glared at Annwyl. “You’ve asked for this.”

“Don’t you dare-“

But the spell was unleashed, flying across the small campsite, lifting Annwyl and slamming her back against the tree behind her. Then it pinned her there.

Now Morfyd sauntered over to her. “If you’d given me two seconds, we could have been done with this, but you had to be difficult.”

“I hate you.”

“Join the queue.”

“Vicious cow.”

“Argumentative harpy.”

Morfyd carefully rubbed the cream over Annwyl’s fresh scar. Once done, she spit a counter-spell and Annwyl hit the ground.

“Ow!”