Last Dragon Standing

Focusing back on his niece, Gwenvael said in confusion, “But I didn’t write you at all. So that should alleviate me of any accusations of being a liar.” When everyone only stared at him, “Well, it should!” Vigholf ignored the hand held out to him and managed to get to his feet on his own. He did, however, take the jug of water his brother offered.

“You all right?” Only Ragnar asked that question after a fight. But this time, finishing off half the water and handing it to his cousin, Vigholf didn’t think Ragnar’s question was out of order. No, not this time.

“I didn’t know females could fight like that,” he admitted. “Sure she doesn’t have some demon in her?”

“She doesn’t.” And Ragnar would know. “It just seems like she does.” Vigholf looked up to see two females approaching them. One was a very young dragoness, the other a human female, her skin brown like Lady Talaith. Beautiful like Lady Talaith as well, making him think they were of similar bloodline.

“That was amazing,” the human said. “Do you think you could teach us some of that?”

“Some of what?” he asked, a little amused.

She reached down and picked up his battle ax. He’d used it for a bit with the queen, but she’d gotten it away from him early on. Of course, the queen had only managed to knock it from his hands. When she’d tried to pick it up later, she’d struggled with the weight of it so much, she’d tossed it down and dove for Meinhard’s dropped sword instead. Yet this… child hefted it in her hands with what seemed to be ease.

“Teach us how to use battle axes. We haven’t gotten to that yet.”

“Izzy’s still on spears and swords,” the dragoness said. “She’s a bit bored.”

He watched the human swing his favored weapon in short arcs with one hand. “This is nice, isn’t it?” She stopped, blinked up at Ragnar. “Don’t I know you?”

“Uh…”

Princess Keita appeared, popping up, it seemed, out of nowhere.

“Excuse us a moment.” She grabbed the human by the collar and pulled her a few feet away.

“What’s going on?” Vigholf asked his brother.

“Nothing.”

“Are you lying to me?”

“Only a little.”

“Ohhhhh.” The human looked over at them, cringed. Sorry, she mouthed at Ragnar.

“There’s absolutely nothing subtle about that one, is there?” Ragnar shook his head. “Not really.”

The princess and the human walked back up to them, and the human held out Vigholf’s ax to him. He took it.

“Nice weapon,” she said.

“Thank you.”

He waited for her to push to learn more about it, but she stood there saying nothing and wiping her hands on her leggings.

“Well,” the princess said, “why don’t we all—” Her head snapped up, and she suddenly blurted, “Shit. Shit!” Then she dove behind Ragnar.

“Should I ask what you’re doing?”

“Avoiding some…uh, people.”

“Male people?” And Vigholf noted how annoyed his brother sounded.

“Don’t get that tone with me, warlord.” Tugging on Ragnar’s shirt, she made him turn a bit so that he continued to block her. “Stay here. Don’t move. I’m going to make a run for it.”

“Where are you going?”

But the princess had already lifted her skirts and took off running, heading toward the main town.

“Oy! Foreigners!” Sneering, all three of them looked at the human male soldiers standing on the other side of the rail, several holding flowers.

“Where’s the lovely princess then?” one of them asked. “We just saw her.” Meinhard, trying to work out the newest pain in his leg, suggested, “I say we kill ’em all.”

“Ooh!” the young She-dragon suggested. “Use the battle ax!”

“Or!” the human cut in, shoving the She-dragon aside and focusing on the soldiers, “You lot can piss off.”

“No one’s talking to you, muscles.”

And the young female lowered her head, raised her eyes, and balled her hands into fists. It was enough.

“All right, all right,” the man said, raising his hands. “No need to get nasty.”

The men walked off, and the girl faced the Lightnings again, smiling.

“All talk, that one. But if you have any more problems, you just let me know. I’ll take care of it.”

And Vigholf was torn between laughing and believing she would take care of it. Quite well, as a matter of fact.

“I better track Keita down,” Ragnar finally said, sighing a little.

“Suddenly the princess is your responsibility, brother?”

“Sure there’s nothing you need to tell us, cousin?” Meinhard asked.

“Yes.”

“You lying?”

“Maybe a little.”

He walked off, leaving Vigholf and Meinhard alone with the two young females.

“I’m Branwen,” the young She-dragon said. “This is Izzy. She ain’t blood, but she’s me cousin.”

Too complicated. These Fire Breathers lived lives that were simply too complicated.

“Good for you then,” Vigholf said, hefting his ax onto his shoulder.

“Me and Meinhard train every day at dawn,” he told the pair. “And we’ll be training here in this ring as long as we’re at Garbhán Isle. What you do with that information is down to you.”