Chapter Twenty-Four
The torrential rains started that night. Aidan went out on the terrace outside Brannie’s room and watched the rain fall for an hour while she slept.
He would forever be grateful to the warrior witches for helping Branwen. When trapped in that storm, he hadn’t known if any of them would survive, but Branwen . . .
She’d been right. He was falling for her fast. And he didn’t mean to. It wasn’t like he was one of those dragons looking for a mate. It had always been the last thing he wanted.
But Branwen . . .
“What are you doing up?” she asked from the bed. Still on her stomach . . . still naked. Her wound still healing.
“Can’t sleep.”
“Come here.”
He did. Afraid if he didn’t, she’d get up again and hamper the healing.
Aidan eased onto the bed and stretched out on his back. He put one arm behind his head and gazed up at the ceiling, waiting for Brannie to go back to sleep.
Her hand reached out and gripped his chain mail shirt. She began tugging, but when that didn’t work, she yanked.
“What are you doing?” he finally asked.
“Closer,” she commanded, her eyes closed, half her head buried deep into the pillow.
Aidan moved over until he was able to reach out to Brannie and gently move her so her head was resting on his shoulder and her arm was over his chest.
“I thought you didn’t want any cuddling?” he asked even as he stroked his fingers against her waist with the hand currently trapped under her body.
“No cuddling while dragon,” she said into his shoulder. “We’re not dragon. So we’re fine. We can cuddle away.”
Aidan chuckled and tucked in even more.
“Are you sure we’re okay with time?” Brannie asked, although she seemed half-asleep.
“By Keita’s original time line, we’re still supposed to be on that boat. Not even close to Eastland shores. So we have time for you to heal properly.”
“Okay. Where is everyone else?”
“No idea.”
Brannie lifted her head a bit and stared at him. “You haven’t checked on everyone?”
“I’m sure they’re fine.”
“Even Uther and Caswyn? Seriously?”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“I’m not dying.” She thought a moment. “I wasn’t even dying before. I was just wounded and in a lot of pain. But the witches helped with that. Now you need to go and keep the peace.”
“Keita can take care of it. She knows the Eastlanders better than I do.”
“But—”
“I’m not leaving, so shut up.”
“Fine. But if those witches strip Caswyn and Uther of their scales, that’s going to be on you.”
* * *
Keita eased the door closed and began tiptoeing away when a hand was slapped over her mouth, an arm went around her waist, and she was carried down the hall and into another bedroom.
When she was finally released, she spun around and began slapping. Caswyn immediately put his arms up to block the blows.
“What is wrong with you, lizard?” Keita demanded.
“I didn’t want those witches to know we were talking,” he whispered, stepping back to the door and pressing his ear against it.
“What are you doing?”
“Listening for spies.”
Keita rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands before reminding the big idiot, “I am a spy.”
“Yeah, but you’re on our side—so I don’t care.” He listened a few seconds more. “All right. I don’t hear anything.”
That’s when the door swung open hard and Uther rushed in, closing the door behind him and using his body to block it.
“Those witches are putting poison in our food!” he whispered desperately. “They’re going to kill us all!”
“Told you!” Caswyn stated from the floor, where he’d landed on his big ass. “We have to get you out of here.”
“I need you both to calm down.”
Keita seriously thought about going back to her cousin’s bedroom and dragging Aidan out.
A few minutes ago, when she’d seen him and Brannie cuddled together, asleep, she’d decided to leave them alone, assuming there was no situation she couldn’t handle at least until the morning. But she’d forgotten about Caswyn and Uther. Helpful dragons, to be sure, but not what Keita would call smart. She instantly missed the days she’d spent with Ren and Gwenvael, the three of them starting trouble wherever they landed. But her brother and Ren had been smart, Ren able to talk them out of any trouble and Gwenvael able to seduce anyone who could help them.
It had been the best time of Keita’s life before meeting Ragnar. But now she had to deal with her easily distracted cousin, two dragons who, Keita was sure, couldn’t count to five, three Riders who never listened to anyone but themselves, and Aidan.
And what good was he when he was always so busy mooning over Branwen?
Even more irritating? Brannie still didn’t seem to understand. She was completely oblivious to how that dragon felt about her. And that was foolish. Not a lot of dragon males would be comfortable with a female who could outmatch him in any type of warrior situation.
There simply were not a lot of Bram the Mercifuls running around, on the lookout for Ghleanna the Decimators! So her cousin needed to snatch up this chance before it was too late!
“I understand your concerns,” she told the two idiots, “but I can assure you we are safe here. I know these witches very well and—”
Keita stopped talking when the two males began to giggle.
“What?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Uther said, “we can tell you know the witches very well. Especially that Lady Meihui.”
Then they both leered.
Disgusted, Keita dropped her head and pressed her hands to her eyes again. She even added some shoulder shakes in for good measure.
Both males bolted to her side and crouched a bit.
“Are you okay?” one of them asked.
“We were only teasing you,” the other said.
They were both close to her now, so Keita reached up, grabbed them both by the hair, yanked them one way, then slammed them back together so their giant heads collided.
“Owwww!”
“Mad cow!”
“Now listen up,” she ordered both dragons. “You will do as I tell you. Understand? I don’t care that you’re Mì-runach. I don’t care that I have no military rank. You know nothing of the Eastlands and you can only manage to get us killed. So you’ll keep your mouths shut and do as I tell you. Understand?”
“But they’re trying to poison us!” Uther insisted.
“And you think that because . . . ?”
“I went by the kitchens and the witches were putting red stuff in the food.”
“A red powder?” Keita asked.
“Aye.”
“And then a yellow powder?”
Uther frowned. “Aye.”
“That’s seasoning, nincompoop.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m the one who’d know, don’t you think?”
“You mean because you’re a murdering poisoner?”
“Yes, Uther. Because of that.” Keita walked to the door. “Now you two will keep your mouths shut, your eyes open, and you will follow my lead . . . or I will get very angry. And you lads don’t want to see me angry, now do you?”
Keita grinned when both males shook their heads. “Good! I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready!” she trilled, but then she dropped her voice and her brow. “And you two bitches better eat whatever those witches put in front of you or I’ll show you the real difference between Eastland seasonings and poison.”
* * *
The princess walked out, slamming the door behind her.
Uther looked at Caswyn. “Any idea how long before Brannie’s better?”
“No. No idea.”
“It better be soon,” Uther said. “Because that royal is mean.”
“I know!” Caswyn agreed. “She is so mean.”
Caswyn’s big shoulders hitched a little and Uther immediately put his arm around his friend’s shoulders.
“It’ll be okay.”
“But why did she have to be so mean?” Caswyn asked, sniffling. “I mean . . . I’m a nice dragon!”
“And sensitive.”
“Very sensitive!”
* * *
Laughing so hard they could barely speak, Keita and Meihui sat on the floor of Meihui’s private quarters. As the current leader of the coven, she had privacy the other sisters did not.
“You should have seen their faces,” Keita choked out.
“I saw them at dinner.” Meihui pounded her fist on the floor. “They looked terrified!”
“Because they were!”
Meihui fell back on the floor, laughing up at the ceiling. “The really big one looked like he was about to cry.”
“Oh, that was my fault,” Keita happily admitted.
“I bet it was.” Meihui sat up. Keita was pouring two chalices of wine. “I was going to say you haven’t changed. But you have, haven’t you?”
“Depends who you talk to.”
Meihui took the chalice from Keita and, clearing the laughter from her throat, asked, “So, Princess, why are you really here?”
Keita shrugged, sipped her wine. “I’m just—”
“Keita, please. It’s me. And your mother is in for the fight of her life. You’d never leave . . . unless you had to.” Meihui held her hand up, halting whatever the next set of lies Keita was going to try to tell her. “And don’t try to convince me that you’re running from your mother. You two may squabble like cats in a bag, but you’re still Rhiannon the White’s daughter.”
“I could have betrayed her.”
“Could have. Didn’t. But if you did . . . she’d have your head before you could even think to run.” Meihui smiled. “So stop trying to bullshit me, old friend.”
Keita let out a breath, placed her chalice on the floor. “I’m here to ask for the Empress’s help.”
Unable to stop herself, Meihui laughed. “Have you lost your mind? That female won’t help you.”
“She adores me! Besides, I can be very persuasive.”
“Even with your talents . . . forget it. I mean, if the Emperor were still alive, maybe. But since his death . . .” She shrugged. “She makes your mother seem like one of the nuns of the Peace and Love Temple.”
“I at least have to try.”
“And if she says no, then what?”
“Well—”
“Forget I asked,” Meihui quickly cut in. If Keita became too honest, Meihui would have to make decisions she’d prefer not to have to make.
“No matter what you do, Keita, there are some things you have to know about.”
“And what are those?”
“The Empress has been in an ongoing battle with Batu of the Dark Mountain Tribes. Batu has been raiding towns and cities that the Empress considers her own. It’s gotten ugly.”
“That’s why you were worried about Kachka and the others.”
“There may be much infighting among the tribes of all the Steppes, no matter where they’re located—even on different continents—but in the end, they are loyal to the horse gods and each other and the rest of us are decadent, weak imperialists who deserve whatever we get.”
“All that may be true but I don’t see what it has to do with me and the Empress.”
“Because while the Empress has been in an ongoing war with the Riders . . . she’s been negotiating with her brother to stop another.”
Keita sat up, her back straight. “Lord Xing?”
“He began making his move once the Emperor died. But the negotiations for a truce have been going on for months. Honestly, I don’t know what’s taking so long. I thought she would have just had him killed by now. In truth, I thought maybe that was why you were here.”
Keita rested her back against the bedframe behind her and raised her knees, placing her arms on them. The chalice dangled from her right hand and her shrewd eyes were locked on the far wall.
Meihui knew she was one of the few who ever saw the other side of Keita. The side that wasn’t a flighty, vacuous royal. A side many should fear.
“Do you feel he’s stalling?” Keita asked.
“Not that I’m aware. But he must have something she wants. I do know there are rumors that he has made alliances with other lords. Some say he’s raised an army. A big one.”
“Some say?”
“If he’s done it, he’s done it quietly.”
Keita nodded but didn’t say anything. Meihui knew why. She was plotting.
And woe to anyone who got in Keita the Viper’s way when she was plotting.
* * *
Talwyn was poring over maps with her brother, father, and uncles when one of the Abominations, a young man with fangs he’d been born with, stepped in and announced, “Dragons heading this way.”
“That’s your grandfather,” Fearghus said. He stood straight and looked at his daughter. “You go.”
Talwyn shrugged. “All right.” She didn’t mind. She adored her grandfather. “But why me?”
Her father and uncles just stared at her, so she didn’t push further. She simply walked out to the nearby grassland and waited; Talan showed up a few minutes later.
The ground shook as their grandfather, Bercelak, and a cadre of Cadwaladr kin landed hard.
Shifting to human, his gorgeous armor and weapons shifting with him, Bercelak strode forward, reached down, and lifted Talwyn up into his arms, giving her a quick but strong hug.
When he placed her on the ground, Talan threw his arms open and moved toward their grandfather, but Bercelak stopped him by slamming his hand against Talan’s forehead.
“But, Grandfather—”
“No.”
Laughing, Talan stepped back. “As always, it’s good to see you too, Grandfather.”
“Where is everyone?” Bercelak asked Talwyn.
“In Izzy’s tent.”
“Show me.”
She led him, Ghleanna, Rhys, and Addolgar to the tent while the rest of the Cadwaladrs went to set up their camp or check on their own troops. Bercelak’s sons immediately stepped back from the table and the elder Cadwaladrs took their places.
With a shake of his head, Bercelak swiped his hand across the map, knocking all the miniatures off the table and onto the floor. “Wrong.” He glanced at his sons. “As usual.”
“Glad to see you too, Dad,” Briec muttered.
“We start our assault tomorrow,” Bercelak announced.
“Why?” Fearghus asked.
“Because I said so.” He looked at Ghleanna. “Start off with aerial first. Our dragons attack with stones from the sky and the humans can use catapults against the walls. Let’s get them moving.”
“Get them moving?” Briec asked. “What do you mean get them moving? Get who moving?”
“The Zealots. You know I’m not much for waiting. They wanted me here”—he glanced at his kin—“they wanted us here. Let’s find out why.”
“If you know they want you here, why are you here?” Fearghus asked.
“Don’t you know me yet, boy?”
“I know you, Daddy,” Gwenvael said, putting his arms around his father’s chest, and gently resting his head on his father’s shoulder. “And I love you despite that.”
“I could have thrown his egg over the side of that mountain,” Bercelak said as everyone attempted to hide their laughter at his expense. “But I never did. So stupid.”