How to Drive a Dragon Crazy
With a nod, Talwyn walked off first. Rhi, still crying from when she’d said good-bye to her parents, headed south, the Mì-runach that Uncle Éibhear had hidden in the nearby forests following her.
Then Talan took one more look around, turned his horse north, and went off to prepare for his future.
The males, never good with emotions, had gone off to steal cows from the local farmers for a quick meal while Annwyl sat on the stairs leading into the Great Hall with Talaith, Dagmar, Keita, and Morfyd.
Thankfully no one felt the need to speak. Instead they just sat and stared off, the loss of the children felt by all of them equally.
“Excuse me.”
Annwyl looked up. A pretty woman with a young child stood in front of them. “Can I help you?”
“Aye. I was trying to find someone who could help me get an audience with Queen Annwyl.”
“I’m Queen Annwyl.”
The woman’s jaw visibly tensed. “Can’t you just say I can’t meet with her? Do you have to mock me?”
“Actually,” Dagmar said, “she is Queen Annwyl.”
Frowning, clearly not believing any of them, the woman looked Annwyl over.
“What do you need?” Dagmar prompted kindly when the woman just kept staring.
“I need help,” she said tentatively. “And I was told you were the one who could help me.”
“Help doing what?”
“You see, my lady, I was driven from my village. Because of my son.”
Annwyl studied the child. He was a beautiful boy. Tall with golden blond hair and big green eyes. “Is he ill?” He looked well enough but perhaps he carried something....
“No, my lady. He’s . . . uh . . .” The woman wrapped her arms around the boy like she was protecting him. “He’s my son. My son. And I’ll do what I must to protect him.”
“Has someone threatened him?”
“The elders of our village say that if I try to bring him back, they’ll kill him.”
Annwyl fought her urge to crack her neck or turn her hands into fists. She’d discovered over the years that those who didn’t know her well found those reactions threatening.
“Why would they say that?”
She hugged her son a little tighter. “Because . . . because of his father.”
“Who’s his father?”
“Not who, my lady.” Slowly, the woman turned her head, then looked up into the sky. Annwyl and her sisters followed suit, looking up. And, over their heads, dragons flew.
“A dragon?” Morfyd finally said. “The boy’s father is a dragon?”
The woman nodded. “Yes. I don’t understand it myself. The one I was with . . . I didn’t know he was”—she cleared her throat—“a . . . a dragon until my son was nearly two. But by then it didn’t matter. He’s my son.”
“But the village elders wanted you to give him up?” Talaith asked. Of them all, she had the most experience with small village life.
“I couldn’t do it. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but a temple priest said to come here. That you might be able to help. That at the very least, we’d be welcome since you’re not averse to dragons. So here we are.”
Annwyl scratched her head. This hadn’t been the way she’d planned to spend the rest of her day, but perhaps it was for the best. It would not be a good idea for her to sit around and brood over her children.
She began to stand. “I’m sure there’s something we can do for you and your son.”
“And the others,” the woman said.
Annwyl again sat down. “Others?”
Pulling her boy with her, the woman stepped back and Annwyl let out a hard breath.
“Annwyl?” she heard Talaith whisper.
“By all reason,” Dagmar sighed out as what appeared to be about fifty families made their way into the courtyard, some of them clearly carrying all their belongings with them.
“All this time,” Keita said, “we thought that the twins and Rhi were the only ones.”
“Clearly, sister, we were wrong.” Morfyd shook her head. “Very, very wrong.”
Annwyl stood, the others following suit. She looked at the females of her family. “Dagmar, we need to find some place for these people to stay. Talaith, round up healers and make sure everyone is healthy. If any are sick, let’s find some place for them where they can get better. I don’t want anyone here getting ill as well. Morfyd, get your mother and the Elders—and manage them. Please. Keita, find out what you can. And call your brothers back here.”
With her orders given, Annwyl walked down the stairs and stopped by the woman and her son. “What’s your name?”
“Diana. And this is my son, Camden.”
“Well, Diana and Camden, why don’t you introduce me to your friends?”
“Of course, my lady.” Taking her son’s hand, Diana walked toward the growing crowd.
Annwyl watched them for a moment, noticing how around her everything looked the same but nothing really was.
“And so it begins . . .” the Southland Queen whispered before heading off to face this new future.