The Dragon Who Loved Me. G.A. Aiken
walked in and Vigholf tossed him a cow’s leg as well. “Ragnar’s being paranoid.”
“When isn’t he?”
“We can’t afford for anyone to get in here,” Ragnar reminded them. “So do me a favor and see if we may have missed any more possible entrances.”
“You’re asking for a favor?” Vigholf said.
“Like we’re old chums?” Meinhard added.
Fed up, Ragnar snapped, slamming his claws against the thick wood table. “Do what I tell you!”
“No need to get snappy,” Meinhard muttered, and Vigholf hid his smile behind the cow’s leg.
“Bastards,” Ragnar complained with a snarl, but it quickly turned to a smile when the lovely Princess Keita walked in.
“Oooh,” she cheered. “All these handsome males in one place. It makes a girl so happy!”
Ragnar held his claw out and Keita took it, allowing him to pull her tight against his side.
“The Irons tried to get in here again. It’s making me concerned,” Ragnar murmured to her.
“It’ll be fine.”
“Maybe, maybe not. But I’m glad you’re going with Ren to Dark Plains.”
“Ren’s leaving?” Vigholf asked. Ren of the Chosen was what the Northlanders termed a “foreign dragon,” which meant he was from somewhere none of them had ever been before. Specifically the Eastland territories across the sea. He’d turned out to be a helpful ally. Good fighting skills and he could work Magick as well. It helped during the heat of battle.
“He’s needed in Dark Plains,” Ragnar answered while he studied Keita’s face. “And Keita’s going with him.”
“Your brother is trying to get rid of me.”
“You know I’m not.”
“And we like having you here,” Vigholf volunteered. “You’re the only reason Ragnar’s even remotely pleasant.”
“Thank you,” Ragnar said flatly.
Keita petted Ragnar’s neck. “I could stay. If you need me to.”
“I do need you. But I’ll feel better if you’re far away from here.” He squeezed her. “Go with Ren. He’ll appreciate the company.”
“About that . . .” Keita went up on the tips of her claws and began whispering in Ragnar’s ear. Vigholf glanced at Meinhard, but his cousin was too busy sucking the marrow from that cow leg to notice anything.
“You sure?” Ragnar asked.
Keita nodded. “She’s the best choice.”
“Perhaps, but I doubt she’ll be happy about it.”
“She’ll do it for me. Besides, I’m betting she’d like some time away from my aunt.”
“I’ll feel better if it’s her. She’s good.”
“And you don’t like the idea of me being alone with Ren,” she teased. “But he knows that I’m your Battle Twat!”
“It’s maid, Keita!” Ragnar complained over Vigholf and Meinhard’s laughter. “It’s Battle Maid. Not Battle Twat or Battle Slut or Battle Slag. Battle. Maid.”
She giggled and slipped away from him, silently walking out of the room.
“What was that about?” Vigholf asked.
“Protection detail for the flight back to the Southlands.”
“Why would they need that? The foreigner can handle himself and Keita, quite well.”
Ragnar began to say something, stopped. Thought a moment and finally said, “He might be distracted. It’s best he has a guard. Especially with Keita traveling with him.”
“Who? One of her brothers? Gods,” Vigholf quickly added, “not the boy.”
“No. Éibhear stays here. And I need Fearghus and Briec here as well. We’re sending one of the cousins instead.” He flicked his claws. “Keep this quiet for now, and we can discuss later.”
“A Cadwaladr, though?” Vigholf pushed. “Willing to leave battle to be protection detail for a couple of royals?” He shook his head. “It will never happen.”
“And you know Keita won’t take no for an answer,” Ragnar reminded him. “My dragoness always knows how to get what she wants. No matter how bloody annoying she has to be to do it.”
Although Rhona had been unable to find time the previous eve to bathe after several additional things came up that needed her attention, she’d finally managed to sneak away during first meal. Now she stood under the waterfall and let the water pour down on her. It felt wonderful against her scales, pounding the tension out of her body and massaging her muscles.
Aaaaaah. Just what she needed. A chance to relax and simply enjoy the quiet and—
“Cousin!”
Rhona faced the cave wall, refusing to be interrupted. Refusing to let her kin invade what had become an almost sacred thing for her—a bath. A gods-damn bath.
“Rhona, you’re so funny,” Keita said, moving closer. “I know you can hear me.”
Letting out a sigh, realizing she couldn’t avoid this, Rhona faced her cousin, but she refused to be moved from her spot under the waterfall.
“What is it, Keita?”
“I wanted to see how you’re doing. And to tell you how pretty you look with your warrior braids in your hair. Ever thought of adding ribbons to—”
“No.” Rhona examined her cousin. She was buttering Rhona up for something. “I will never put ribbons in my hair. Now, what do you want, Keita?”
“Well—”
“If you dance around this any more, I’m going to get tense.”
“All right, all right. No need to threaten. I just need a small favor.”
“There are no small favors where you’re concerned. So just get it out.”
“I need you to escort me and Ren back to Dark Plains.”
“No.”
Keita frowned. “What do you mean ‘no’?”
“I mean no. I mean you’re up to something, Keita the Viper, and I’m not getting in the middle of it.” Then again, Keita was always up to something. Although rarely mentioned, this particular war was, in fact, down to the actions of Keita the Viper when she’d lobbed the head of the Overlord’s wife at him in the middle of the Province’s main arena. After that particular move, the war was pretty much a foregone conclusion. And, as far as Rhona was concerned, all Keita’s fault.
“Oh, come now,” Keita pushed. “That’s not fair. And I really need you to do this for me.”
“We both know Ren can take care of himself, he needs no escort.”
“I’m going with him as well.”
“He’s capable of escorting you, too.” Confused, Rhona asked, “Isn’t that something you two do all the time? Travel around the world with Ren as your escort?”
“He’ll be busy.”
“Busy with what?”
“Things.”
“Forget it.” Rhona began to turn away again, but Keita caught her forearm.
“Look, I can’t really go into this. At least not here.” Keita leaned in and whispered loudly so she could be heard over the rushing