The commander’s screams echoed out in the night and Rhona stepped forward, about to demand Annwyl stop this, but Vigholf caught her arm, shook his head. She didn’t know if he stopped her because he was al right with al this—or afraid of what Annwyl would do about the interruption.
“Where can I find Gaius Lucius Domitus?” And this time, the crazed bitch almost sang that question.
Shaking, the commander said, “He lives outside the Provinces. In the Septima Mountains. But he’l be no more welcoming to you than Vateria.
He’l kil you, whore, and your friends.”
“That is so considerate,” Annwyl mocked. “Warning me of impending doom after I’ve done nothing but cut pieces off you. When you think about it, it’s very considerate. I’m sure it’s not that you just don’t want me to find him because he’s a real threat to your overlord and his bitch daughter. I’m sure that’s not it at al . But thank you for not lying. I appreciate that.”
Annwyl stood, re-sheathed her sword, and took her other sword from Branwen. She stepped away and came toward Rhona and Vigholf, while behind the queen, Izzy finished the commander off, using her ax to remove his head.
Once Annwyl reached Rhona, she tossed her swords at her. Rhona jumped a little but managed to catch the weapons just the same.
“So,” Annwyl said as she grabbed her nose between both hands, “are you two coming with us?”
“We’re here to fetch you,” Vigholf told her. “Your armies are moving through the Eastern Pass toward Euphrasia Val ey. It’l soon begin, Annwyl.”
“It’s already begun. The Irons attacked last night. Siege weapons.”
“What?” Vigholf asked. “How do you know this?”
With a good snap Annwyl put her broken nose back into place and retrieved her weapons from Rhona. “We don’t have much time. Come with us or go back. Your choice. But I’m not stopping until I see Gaius Domitus.”
“You’l never get to him,” Rhona told her. “They already know you’re here. Vateria sent out a search party for you. A raping, pil aging search party that’s destroyed vil ages while they look for you.”
“You’re blaming me? For that?”
Not real y, but stil . . . “Annwyl, everything’s changed. If the battle for Euphrasia has begun, you must go back.”
“If I go back now, we al die or become slaves to that tyrant.” She finished tying her swords to her back and patted Rhona on the shoulder. Rhona took it as a source of pride that she managed not to flinch or jump away from that pat. Years of training, that is. Years of training.
“I’l not think less of you if you return to your comrades in the Val ey. But I’m going to finish this . . . with or without you.” Annwyl stepped between them and began to walk off. That’s when Vigholf said, “The Western Tribesmen are attacking Garbhán Isle, Annwyl.
Where your children are.”
The queen stopped in her tracks, her body one rigid line of tense muscle. But she took several breaths and said, “With or without you, I’m going.” To Rhona’s shock, the queen headed off into the forests, heading farther into the west. Rhona never thought Annwyl would leave her children to the whim of fate with Tribesmen at her door. But she was leaving them and, without question, Iseabail and Branwen fol owed her. Rhona didn’t bother to cal her cousin back. She knew Brannie’s decision had been made. For whatever reason, she’d fol ow this mad queen on her insane quest, and there was nothing Rhona could do about it.
Wel . . . there was one thing.
“You’re going with her,” Vigholf said. “I can see it on your face.”
“What else can I do?”
“We could go back. Back to the Val ey. Back to the war. Even death in battle is better than this insanity.”
“I can’t go back. She has my cousin. She has Briec’s daughter.” She put her hand on Vigholf’s forearm. “But you can go back. Tel them what happened, tel them—”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“Vigholf—”
“I’m not leaving you. Not with her.”
“Then you’re a fool.” She glanced over at the queen as she marched into the forest. “We’re not coming back from this, Vigholf.”
“Wel , not if you’re going to be so negative.”
Despite everything, she laughed a little. “What?”
“Think positive. You never know. We could survive. And then what wil you do with me? Keep me is what you’l do.” He winked at her and fol owed after the others, whistling for the horses they’d left on the hil .
Rhona took another look around the camp, her eyes resting on the mangled commander’s remains.
Stil disgusted by al that—Rhona had never been one for torture—she fol owed after the Mad Queen of Garbhán Isle and prayed that when her time came, it wouldn’t be anything like this human commander’s.
She’d hate to meet her Cadwaladr ancestors missing her leg and fingers. They’d mock her for eternity over that.
Chapter 24
Rhiannon stood on the castle wal s and stared out over her territory. True, she al owed the humans to believe this was their territory too, but it actual y was al hers. So the fact that these Tribesmen had invaded annoyed her. The fact that Annwyl wasn’t here to pound these barbarians into the dirt as she’d been doing for years, much to Rhiannon’s enjoyment, annoyed her even more.