“I want to give Fearghus what we have and then be on our way,” he continued. “I grow tired of both of you.”
“Of course, brother.” Gwenvael, grinning as always, walked off.
Angry and more than a little frustrated, Éibhear crossed his arms in front of his chest. “He’ll be gone hours. You do realize that?”
“Stop whining, baby brother. You’ll have more than enough time in this life to find females who will eventually make you miserable.”
* * *
Staring into the campfire, Talaith sighed softly. She’d tried for ages to get back to sleep, but couldn’t. Not with her daughter leaning against her. Not with her daughter right beside her.
“You can’t sleep, sister?” Morfyd whispered, sitting beside Talaith.
Talaith glanced down at a sleeping Izzy, whose head rested comfortably in her lap. “Could you?”
The witch grinned. “Good point.”
Morfyd tore a loaf of bread in half and handed one side to Talaith who took it gratefully, seeing as she was unable to eat earlier. Her excitement over Izzy too great.
“Tell me, Morfyd,” Talaith whispered around a bite of bread. “How did you know I was coming?”
Morfyd almost choked on her bread and Talaith knew she’d been right. Annwyl had been waiting for her. That was why she sent her army back to Garbhán Isle while she, Morfyd, and her elite guard remained. Waiting for her.
“That’s what I thought, sister. When you walked into the tent this morning you said to Annwyl, ‘I told you it was her.’ How did you know?”
Morfyd swallowed her bread and thought carefully on her answer. Talaith knew the witch would only tell her so much. But anything was better than nothing.
“I’ve committed myself and my Magick to powerful gods. They warn me of danger.” That couldn’t have been vaguer if she said, “I know some people.”
“Which gods?”
The witch smiled and put her finger over her own lips. “Dare to be silent,” she whispered to her and Talaith couldn’t help but smile back. During the dark days of Lorcan the Butcher’s reign, before Annwyl killed him, witches lived by that code. It was all that kept them alive.
“Perhaps you’ll find out in due time,” Morfyd stated in a low voice. “The way you found your daughter.”
Find her? Talaith had found nothing. Someone or something had thrown Izzy in her path as certainly as Talaith’s hair was curly and Izzy talked too much. True, she’d gotten what she wanted without having to kill the Queen of Garbhán Isle or rush headlong into suicide, but that also meant someone else cared about all this. Someone other than Arzhela.
Realizing she’d get no answers from Morfyd this eve, she let it go. At the moment, at least, she was safe. But, more importantly, her daughter was safe. Nothing could make her happier.
Although, she knew, there was one other thing that would make this perfect. But she’d lost him forever.
Brushing painful thoughts of Briec from her mind, she lightly combed Izzy’s short, wavy hair with her fingers and, to her utter delight, Izzy giggled in her sleep.
She’d make the worst Nolwenn witch. She’s too bloody happy.
Talaith smiled, knowing how that would irritate the very life from her mother. Enjoying the thought much more than she should, she went back to eating her bread, enjoying cautious but sane conversation with her first female friend, and loving the feel of her beautiful daughter tucked in safely beside her.
* * *
Arzhela screamed and the priestess who’d approached with the oracle’s news dropped to the floor, blood streaming from her eyes, ears and mouth.
She didn’t mean to kill her, but Arzhela’s rage knew no bounds now.
That bastard had led the bitch child straight to Talaith. Now they were all one big, happy family under the protection of that dragonwitch. And that dragon was powerful, only rivaled by her evil mother. Arzhela would never be able to break through the dragonwitch’s defenses without years and years of work—and she no longer had that kind of time.
For centuries, her oracles had predicted the birth of a blood-drenched queen who would change everything. That queen was Annwyl. But with dragons surrounding her at every turn, Arzhela’s only hope was to get a human close enough to cut that scar-covered throat.
Arzhela had chosen Talaith carefully. A human witch of considerable power, but who was still too young to have harnessed it. While the other Nolwenn witches would never bend under Arzhela’s will, Talaith’s inexperience made her a convenient target.
The constant arguments with her mother and her love affair with the soldier made it almost too easy. Alone, Talaith had given birth to her daughter. By the time her priestesses arrived, the girl had nearly bled to death. Still, she put up quite a fight when they claimed her child.
That child turned out to be Arzhela’s only bargaining chip where Talaith was concerned. The only way she could keep any control over this uncontrollable human.
When the child disappeared from Hamish’s care, she thought for sure she’d lose her hold over Talaith, but the child never resurfaced. She disappeared with the men who had stolen her; and Arzhela, nor the other gods, could track the little beast down. Eventually she gave up looking for her and continued her focus on Talaith.
At the time, she thought perhaps the child died. Arzhela didn’t know or care. All she knew was that Talaith didn’t know the girl was gone. Which meant Arzhela still controlled her.
When Annwyl took over her brother’s throne and aligned herself with that black dragon, Arzhela knew her time had grown short. With Hamish’s help, she cut off all information in and out of the tiny village Talaith lived in. That way Talaith continued to hear only about the evils of Annwyl, a necessity since she insisted on having this sense of honor her trainers had been unable to beat out of her. Arzhela knew she’d have a near-impossible time killing a woman she considered innocent.
Still, all she needed was for Talaith to get one chance at Annwyl the Bloody. The witch would never survive the battle. Either Annwyl, a mighty warrior, would kill her as her last act or Annwyl’s blindingly loyal elite guard would destroy Talaith in retaliation. It didn’t matter. As it didn’t matter what happened to Talaith’s daughter. All that mattered was that Annwyl must die before the next full moon.
And everything was moving along perfectly. All would happen as Arzhela had anticipated.
Then that bastard silver dragon came along, destroying all her plans.
Now Talaith had her daughter back and the protection of the dragonwitch and the Blood Queen.
Still. Arzhela had other options. Another plan that Hamish was already moving on. It wasn’t what she wanted. It was messier. But now she had no choice.
And she blamed Talaith and her little bitch whelp for all of it.
* * *
The barwench slammed another pint of ale down in front of Briec. She’d been slamming everything in front of him since he told her to leave him alone. She’d not taken it well, but he didn’t care. She annoyed him. Everything annoyed him.
Gwenvael had been gone for quite a bit, giving Briec more than enough time to obsess and be miserable about Talaith.
Éibhear sat next to him, equally as miserable for a completely different reason.
“Come on, Briec—”
“If you ask me about getting a woman one more time, I’ll tear off all your scales…again.”
His baby brother slumped back in his seat, but as quickly sat back up. “Gwenvael.”
Briec looked up, shocked to see a serious and still fully dressed Gwenvael coming back into the main dining area. He dropped gold on the table and motioned to his brothers.
They glanced at each other before following him out.
“What’s wrong?” Éibhear asked as they headed out of town.
“Our paranoid older brother may be right,” Gwenvael remarked, his face tense. “We need to get to Hamish’s lands.”
“We’re no more than a day’s flight from there. If that much.” Briec remembered well the last time he was near Hamish’s lands—when he found Talaith. The treacherous, deceiving Talaith.
“Good. I fear there’s little time to waste.”
There were things about his kin Briec knew. Fearghus was mostly unpleasant unless he was alone. Humans were lucky Morfyd cared about them because with her power she could destroy an entire kingdom without much effort. Keita would never sleep alone if she could help it. Éibhear would always be the nicest among them. And Gwenvael the Handsome only feared an angry female—or angry father of a female—cutting off his c*ck while he slept…until now.
Suddenly the brother who never took anything seriously moved with a purpose Briec had never seen before unless a warm, wet p**sy waited at the end of his journey.
“You going to tell us what happened, brother?”
“Aye. When we take to the skies.” He glanced at Briec. “Once we’re done in these lands, Briec, we head to Garbhán Isle.”
“You can head to Garbhán Isle. I’ll head home.”
“That’s your decision, Briec. But if what I found out is right, Fearghus will need all his kin.”
The dragon who needed no one suddenly needed all his kin around him?
This was much worse than Briec feared.
Chapter Eighteen
Talaith pulled up on the reins of her horse, stopping the giant beast in its tracks. She stared, unable to do much else.
“What is it?” Izzy asked, leaning around her mother to see why they’d stopped. They didn’t have enough horses for everyone, so a few of them doubled up. Talaith didn’t mind, though. For five days she’d had her daughter right where she’d always wanted her…by her side.
“Look. Garbhán Isle.”
“Oh.” Her daughter stared. “I guess it’s nice”
Talaith smiled. “Seen many castles have you?”
“A few.” Izzy shrugged. “Brick and stone aren’t what impress me, but the people inside them.”
“You’re awfully…thoughtful, for a girl barely ten and six.”
“Not much else to do but think and read these last few years.”
“Well, there are worse ways you could have spent your time.” Especially for one who barely takes a breath that doesn’t include words. “We’re here because of Annwyl’s good will.”
“In other words lie and tell her the castle looks fabulous.”
“Exactly.”
With that, the pair moved on, and Talaith fell in line with the rest of the elite guard. They all looked worn and tired from their journey, and Talaith knew they longed to be home.
It had been a hard five days of constant riding, and nights of sleeping on the cold, hard ground. Annwyl no longer bothered having her tent pitched. Instead, as soon as the suns rose they were up and riding again.
Now that they were close, though, their spirits grew. Within two hours, they entered the town and as soon as the locals spotted Annwyl and her men, cheers arose as the people came out to greet her.
Blushing a bright shade of red, Annwyl took the flowers offered, shook a few hands and smiled at the babies. But she never stopped moving. Soon, they worked through the throng of people and arrived at the massive gates of the castle of Garbhán Isles.