Bring the Heat
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!”
“So pretty,” Nika said to her sisters. “But such a big baby about a little hair.”
“Shut up,” Dagmar snarled, yanking the hair from the Rider’s grasp. “And never speak of this again.”
“But—”
“Ever!”
Elina watched in fascination as Gwenvael the Handsome sobbed on Talaith’s shoulder.
“His hair?” she asked Celyn again.
“He loves his hair.”
“Yes, but—”
“You’re thinking again. Logically. When it comes to my royal kin. Why? Really. I mean . . . why? Logic . . . not involved here. Even in a little way.”
“Then I shall stop.”
“It’s for the best. You’ll just give yourself a headache.”
The sobbing grew louder, and Elina was about to leave just so she wouldn’t have to see any more when Kachka walked into the hall, followed by the other Riders who’d accompanied her.
“Sister!” she called out. “You are not dead!”
“Not yet.”
Celyn shook his head. “That’s a lovely greeting between sisters . . . and what were you thinking!” he suddenly bellowed at his younger sister, who’d walked in with Aidan the Divine of the Mì-runach and King Gaius.
“Are you yelling at me?” Brannie demanded. “At me?”
“Yes, at you! First off,” he said, shooting out of his chair and storming over to his sister, “you don’t ask Mum if you can go off with this idiot to fight the battles of Irons!” He glanced at Gaius and muttered, “No offense,” before yelling at his sister again. “And second, I’m in charge of you! Me! Not him! And not Mum!”
“She’s my general! I take orders from her! Not some idiot who used to fly into walls.”
“I was still learning!”
Unable to stand a second more of this, Elina stood and walked out of the Great Hall, grabbing Kachka’s arm as she passed and pulling her along.
“You are part of that now,” her sister reminded her.
“I am . . .” Elina’s words faded off when she realized that King Gaius had followed them out. If he’d kept walking, she would have assumed he’d used their exit as an excuse to leave such a ridiculous argument between siblings. But he didn’t keep walking. He stopped by Kachka’s side. Looking as if he rightfully belonged there.
That’s when Elina asked, “Have you two been fucking again?”
Before Kachka could reply, Gaius leaned down, smiled, and said, “Yes!”
Kachka rubbed her forehead.
“She won’t admit it, Elina, but it’s been great.”
“Go away.”
“To our room?”
“It is not—” Kachka stopped. Took a moment. “Just go,” she said finally.
Gaius leaned in and kissed Kachka on the cheek. He started to walk down the stairs, but suddenly turned around and fled back inside. Elina didn’t know why until Keita charged up the stairs after him, yelling, “Yoo-hoo! King Gaius! You must see the new colors of patches I have for you and your missing eye!”
“So,” Elina said, trying not to smile, “a king husband. That is impressive, sister.”
“He is not my husband.”
“No. But I have seen that look before. Fearghus has it when Annwyl screams at the walls that she will not be forced to hire the stonemason. Briec has it when he argues with Talaith about damaged fruit. Gwenvael has it when he watches that tiny, weak Northlander order big soldiers around and they listen. She cannot even take down an elk, but there you go. And King Gaius . . . he now has that look for you.”
“I do not want to have this conversation.”
“Because you know I am right.”
“Because you need to shut up.”