Dragon on Top
“No! I don’t want to hear it!” She pointed her talon at Ghleanna and ordered her royal guard to, “Kill it. Before it awakes and destroys us all.”
“No.”
The Empress’s eyes narrowed on Bram. “Did you say no to me?”
“I did and I apologize, but no one touches Ghleanna. We are unarmed and unable to fight, asking for your protection. So to kill us now—”
“But you didn’t give me all the facts. You simply brought that fighting dog into our midst like it was a harmless puppy.”
“She is wounded and has much healing to do. I don’t see what kind of threat—”
“She’s a Cadwaladr. Don’t pretend you don’t know what that means, peacemaker.”
“Aye. She’s a Cadwaladr. And my protector and my friend. Not only that, she’s directly tied to the Royal House of Gwalchmai fab Gwyar. Harm her, Empress, and Queen Rhiannon will not stop until your vast ocean is nothing but a boiling pot of Sea Dragon stew.”
“Like her mother then, is your young queen?”
“Actually,” he sighed, “no. She’s nothing like her mother, which means she won’t hesitate to do what she can to destroy you should you harm Ghleanna. I assure you, you’ll not have the same inaction you experienced with Adienna.”
“Is the Cadwaladr her pet?”
“No. She’s Rhiannon’s sister by mating. That bastard Bercelak, as you called him, is Rhiannon’s consort. And as we both know, my Lord Bercelak forgives nothing. Harm his sister and I won’t be responsible for what he does. And trust me when I say . . . he’ll do something.”
“So I’m supposed to allow this low-born creature to wander around here among us? Untethered, unmonitored?”
“Ghleanna owes her life to you. Like all Cadwaladrs she takes that debt very seriously. As do I.”
“Which means what? Exactly?”
“It means I never forget those who’ve helped me.”
“Is that right?” The Empress’s eyes narrowed, her mind calculating as always. “Still . . . we can’t take the chance.”
She motioned to Kleitos and he stepped toward Ghleanna’s prone body, a blade in his hand.
“Take another step”—Bram warned, stopping Kleitos in his tracks—“and I’ll flay the scales from your bones.”
One of the guard’s placed the tip of his pike against Bram’s throat and Bram moved his gaze to Helena. “Do you really think I’d let this piece of metal stop me?”
“Interesting,” she murmured, and Bram realized too late it was a test. She didn’t want to challenge Rhiannon—who did?—but she wanted to see how protective Bram was toward Ghleanna. How much she could possibly use his protectiveness to her own ends.
Annoyed with himself, Bram looked away and that’s when he saw that Ghleanna’s eyes were open and staring at Kleitos who, at the moment, was blissfully unaware of her.
He could have warned Kleitos; it would have been the merciful thing to do . . .
Yet it was much more entertaining to watch Ghleanna raise her claw, slap the blade from Kleitos’s hand, pull back, and punch him directly in the snout. And she broke something in that snout. Something important.
Roaring in pain, Kleitos stumbled back, both claws around his damaged appendage, tears leaking from his eyes.
The Empress, now standing behind another contingent of guards who’d moved in to protect her the way Ghleanna and her kin had moved in to protect Bram, observed, “I see your pet needs a leash, peacemaker.”
“Forgive her, Empress. She’s still unwell. Not in her right mind.”
Helena stepped around her guards and whispered, “You can stop smiling, Bram. I’m sure Kleitos got the message.” She smirked and motioned to one of her guards. “Fetch Euthalia.”
The guard ran off and Helena studied Ghleanna, who’d passed out once more. “So many scars.” She shuddered in distaste. “An abused pet it seems.” She gritted her fangs. “Kleitos. Honestly. Stop all that blubbering.”
A few minutes later a sorceress arrived. “You called for me, Empress?”
“Do you have what we discussed earlier, Euthalia?”
“Aye, my mistress.” She held a large gold ring in her hand.
“Excellent. Put it on her.”
“Empress—” Bram began but Helena cut him off with a slash of her front claw and he was forced to watch while the sorceress stepped beside Ghleanna and fastened the ring around her throat.
And while they all silently observed, the ring grew smaller and smaller—as Ghleanna shifted to human. When it was over, Ghleanna was in her human form with a gold collar around her throat. A collar that would keep her in her human form for as long as Helena wanted.
“Is this really necessary?”
“Either this, Bram the Merciful, or I allow my guards to cut her Land Dweller throat and I take my chances with your queen—and you. Your choice.”
Bram had no option but to nod. “The collar, Empress.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Helena headed toward the exit. “Take him and his pet to one of the rooms we keep for human visitors,” she ordered her servants. “They can be human together.”
Then she was gone.
“I wish she’d allowed me to cut the Low Born’s throat,” Kleitos told him, copious amounts of blood leaking from his nostrils, his entire snout slightly off. He slithered closer to Bram and hissed, “I would have enjoyed watching the life drain from your barbarian whore.”