A Tale of Two Dragons. G.A. Aiken
couldn’t help but smile. “You mean . . . compared to my family?”
“Oh, no, no—”
“It’s all right, Lady.” He shrugged. “I’m a Cadwaladr. I have no shame about that. No . . . insecurities.”
“You’re proud of them.”
“Of course I am. They’re my kin.”
“And they’ll be there for you? No matter what?”
Addolgar frowned, confused by the question. “Why wouldn’t they be?”
“I’d heard they can be”—she thought a moment—“harsh. To each other, I mean.”
“Some might say. But no more than any one of us can handle. And usually not more than any one of us deserves.”
“Good.” Her smile was soft . . . and a little sad. “I’m glad.”
“I’m glad you’re glad.”
Unable to tolerate any more of the horrid tea, Addolgar went to put the cup down, but it tumbled from his claw, tea splattering across the ground.
“Huh.” He looked at Lady Katarina. “I’m a bit of a fumble-claws tonight. Guess I’m more tired than I realized.”
“Go to sleep. It’s all right.”
“All right. Just have the lads wake me up in a few hours so I can take night watch.”
“Of course,” she said, her voice seeming to fade to Addolgar’s ears. “And thank you, Sergeant.”
Addolgar stretched out, trying to keep himself raised on his elbow, but his forearm gave out and he ended up crashing to the ground.
He tried not to look as clumsy as he felt and asked, “What for, Lady Katarina?”
“For being ever so kind.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, grinning.
Lady Katarina’s image dimmed, and he briefly thought about spitting in an attempt to get the bitter taste of that awful tea out of his mouth. But, unfortunately, everything went black before he had the chance.
“What are you two doing here?” Braith asked her brothers, hoping to sound as vapid as they believed her to be. As confused. Like their father, they gave her very little credit.
“To take Lady Katarina.”
“Against her will?”
Meical scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Of course not. She’s as involved in this as the rest of us.”
“The rest of us?”
Afanen said with a dismissive shrug, “The soldiers here. They’re loyal to Father. Well . . . except for that big Cadwaladr oaf.”
“Good thing they sent him and not Bercelak,” Meical noted. “Or Ghleanna. That would have been messy.”
“Do you really think he’s just going to let her go without a fight?” Braith asked, her mind already racing.
“No need for all that.” Meical stepped back as Lady Katarina came through the trees, three of the soldiers with her.
“It’s done,” Katarina announced, her eyes on Braith. Locked on Braith.
“Good, my lady,” Meical said. “Then we should be off quickly.”
Katarina kept her eyes on Braith and, for a few brief seconds, she thought the female was challenging her. But then Braith realized . . . she wasn’t. She was, however, trying to tell her something.
Braith cleared her throat. “Uh . . . what about Addolgar?”
“He’s been handled,” Meical insisted.
“And if he’s not,” Afanen told her, “the rest of the soldiers will ensure he is before they follow us.”
“You lot go then,” Braith said brusquely. “I’ll make sure he’s taken care of.”
“Braith—”
“We don’t want to get this bit wrong, brothers. Father will have your asses if we do.”
“She’s right,” Meical agreed. “Go. Make sure he’s done, then follow the soldiers to our next location. They know where to go. Understand?”
“Of course.”
Katarina nodded at Braith, her eyes widening a bit before she turned from her and took to the air.
Braith waited until her brothers and the three soldiers followed before she turned and charged back toward the campsite.
She found the remaining guards surrounding Addolgar’s body. They glanced at her as she burst through the trees, but quickly refocused on Addolgar.
“I don’t think he’s dead yet,” said one.
“Should we wait?” asked another.
“No,” he said, and Braith began to panic. “Kill him. Let’s be done with it and go.”
He was only unconscious for a bit, but Addolgar had quickly figured out that Lady Katarina had poisoned him, though she clearly hadn’t given him enough to kill him. One of his cousins liked poisons and understanding how much poison to use based on weight and gender and age was something all good poisoners learned. True, Katarina might be a bad poisoner, but if she’d been really trying to murder him, she most likely would have overcompensated, giving him enough to kill him instantly and with great pain and blood.
No. He was certain she’d known what she was doing, but she probably hadn’t counted on these soldiers hanging back to make sure he was dead. They probably wouldn’t have bothered for anyone else, either, but they would never take a chance on a Cadwaladr surviving. That was something a royal like Lady Katarina would not understand.
Addolgar could move, but he was weaker than normal and so he waited, pretending to be unconscious, hoping that he’d get a chance to use the element of surprise to his advantage.
While he waited, he used his mind to call to his sister, a skill all immediate kin had with each other.
Ghleanna.
Addolgar? What is it?
Trouble. I need you. Where are you?
Ten minutes away.
What?
Did you really think Bercelak trusted bloody Berg? Do what you must, brother. I’m coming for you.
Addolgar should have known his brother had sent someone to shadow them, but he would be forever grateful. Still. Ten minutes could be a lifetime if he couldn’t stop these bastards before they hacked him to death. Yet before he could come up with a plan, Addolgar heard Braith’s voice. Gods, was she part of this, too? No. He couldn’t imagine that. Not Braith. There was something about her that seemed . . . well . . . she seemed not to care about much of anything. He couldn’t imagine she would bother betraying the Queen. So he refused to think she’d start now. Especially when she’d been the one to warn him about her father’s hand-picked soldiers.
“You lot go on,” Braith ordered, and Addolgar opened his eyes just a bit so he had a good idea of where everyone was standing . . . and what his odds were. “I’ll finish him,” she said, holding up an eating dagger sharp enough to cut his throat.
The soldiers nodded and began to move away . . . except one. That one, a big Red, held up his claw, halting the others. His blue eyes narrowed on Braith and, after a moment, he said, “That’s all right, Lady Braith. Your father’s orders were clear. We kill the Cadwaladr and then we go. This isn’t something you need to worry about.”
With a jerk of his head toward Addolgar, the soldiers turned back to him, all of them pulling out their swords. Behind them, Braith let out a sigh, her head momentarily