“I’l take Celyn,” she told her sisters while getting to her claws. “You two take Éibhear.”
“Why do we always have to take Éibhear?” Nesta whined. “He’s as big as a mountain and don’t pay attention to where he’s swinging those big meat hooks of his.”
“Yeah,” Edana agreed. “That’s why I have you two do it. Now move your asses before Mum notices.” Rhona crouched beside a smal brook and took off her glove to scoop water to her mouth. It was cold and bracing, and revived her after such a long run. She was stil in Dark Plains but far from the battle going on at Garbhán Isle, giving her time to think.
Hard snow and ice cracked behind her and Rhona, stil crouched, turned, thrusting her spear up. The warhammer created by her father slammed into it, moving it aside but not knocking it from her hands.
“It’s me,” Vigholf told her quickly.
And Rhona replied honestly, “I know.”
“What do you mean you know? Then why did you attack me?”
Rhona stood to her ful , tal , human height, but she stil had to look up at the Lightning to see his face. “Why do you think? And why are you here?”
“Why do you think? Did you real y think I was going to let you go off on your own?”
“So you lied to my uncle then? You don’t think I can handle—”
“Before you even finish that idiotic statement, let me make something very clear to you. If I’d been assigned this mission . . . I’d not want to go it alone. I’d need someone to watch my back. Someone I know would keep an eye out for me no matter what I may have gotten myself into. So I didn’t lie to your uncle or anyone else. I know you can do this, but since I can afford to be here watching your back, I wil .”
“What about your brother?”
“What about him?”
“If Annwyl’s army is on the move then they’re gearing up for the final assault. The one that wil end this bloody war and get us back to our normal lives.”
“War is the Northlander’s normal life, Sergeant. Once we’re done sorting out the Irons for you Fire Breathers, we’l be focusing on the Spikes out of the Ice Lands. They’ve no doubt moved into our territory, thinking we’re gone forever. So it’s not like there won’t be kil ing aplenty for me when I return home.”
“But—”
“That’s it!” he cut in. “I’l hear no more. I’m going with you. Just accept it.”
“Fine. Then let’s make a few things clear before we go any farther.” She placed the butt of her spear in the ground, gripping it tight. “I know this wil be hard for that thick Northland head of yours to get around, but I’m a soldier of the Dragon Queen’s army and I’ve survived more than two centuries without you stepping in to protect me during every battle that comes my way. That I won’t tolerate. Watch my back, yeah. But that’s it.
Understand?”“You watch my back, Fire Breather, and I’l watch yours. And I’m not about to get in the middle of any of your fights if I don’t have to.” He motioned to her spear. “You’ve stabbed me enough with that thing.”
“Yeah, but that first time was an accident. Can’t promise that if I do it again.”
“Fair enough.” He looked around, shrugged. “So what do we do now?”
“Keep moving. The quicker we get to Morfyd, the better. We’d do better on horseback, but with you and your problems with horses . . .”
“What’s that mean?”
“You just knocked one out.”
“I was keeping him quiet.”
Shaking her head, Rhona crouched down again and fil ed her canteen with fresh water. Once done, she stood and started running again. “Come on, Lightning,” she cal ed back to him. “Move that ass. We haven’t got al night!” She heard him sigh and mutter, “I hate running,” and then he was by her side, keeping pace with her as they headed deep into the border territory between the Southlands and the Western Plains.
“Where is she?”
Eirianwen, goddess of war, stepped over the bodies of the fal en and went to her mate, Rhydderch Hael, fathergod of al dragons. As she walked toward him, Eir, as she’d done since time began, admired the beauty of his form. A black dragon with scales that glistened in the dying light of the two suns; twelve bright, white horns atop his head; black mane of hair with the shades of every color in the spectrum streaked throughout, long and sweeping along the blood-soaked ground. She couldn’t see his tail, it reached too far back at the moment, but it always reminded her of her favorite broadsword. Big, wide, with a blade of a tip that could destroy anything it touched.
Yet Eir’s love of the dragon didn’t mean she’d take his centaur shit. “And hel o to you, my love.”
“Don’t play me about, Eir,” he lashed back. “Where is she?”
“Who? Who are you going on about?”
“Annwyl the Bloody.”
“Oh. Your pet.” Eir put her sword back in its scabbard. “I have no idea where she is.”
“Eir—”
“I don’t! She’s not my concern. She’s your concern.”
“Don’t start that again. She was dead and you brought her back!”
“I did that for Dagmar Reinholdt.”
“Your pet.” His gaze moved around the battlefield. “You’ve been busy, I see.”