Dragon on Top
Page 44
“You’re going to try.” Soldiers moved out of the trees, some stopping and staring at her, also seemingly shocked to see her alive. If she survived this, her name would be legendary. “You going to take us all on? Are you into that now?”
“Your disrespect to Captain Ghleanna,” Bram said from his tree, his voice soft, “offends me.”
“Does it now?” Feoras said with a laugh. “Oh, well. Don’t want to offend Bram the Merciful. He might bore us to death with his vast knowledge of nothing.” Feoras sauntered closer but not close enough to Ghleanna’s axes. “So, Mercy . . . you seem quite attached to the fair Captain. Tell me, did you two get close while she was trying to survive the wound I gave her?”
Bram continued to scribble away on his parchment. “We did. Very close. In fact—” he finally looked up from his papers but he gazed at Ghleanna—“I love her. Have for years.”
“Gods!” Feoras laughed. “Are you really that desperate, friend? Because the honest truth is, when it comes to getting under a Cadwaladr wench’s tail, the last thing you need to do is tell them you love them.” He eyed Ghleanna and she couldn’t believe she’d ever found him attractive. “That’s how it is for all of them, but especially Ailean’s offspring. All whores . . . just like their father.”
Ghleanna had heard it all before but, unlike her sisters, she never knew how to let it roll off her scales like rainwater. But that was before, wasn’t it? When she actually gave a centaur shit what other dragons thought. Now, however, she realized what her kin had been trying to tell her was true—she was a mighty She-dragon who could do better than Feoras the Traitor. A sad, jealous lizard not worthy of her time or her drunken whining. That being said, she also had no intention of letting Feoras goad her into a rash move. There was a plan, and she intended to stick with it.
But when Bram unleashed an explosion of flame that rammed into Feoras and half his soldiers, sending them flying back through the trees, decimating part of the forest in the process while setting fire to another part . . . she had to admit she was surprised. And rather impressed.
“What?” Bram asked her when she could only gawk at him. “I thought you wanted them over in that clearing so they were surrounded by your kin.”
“I . . . I did. It’s just I thought you were going to run and let them give chase. Not set the entire forest on fire.”
“I don’t run for anybody. I wouldn’t worry about the forest.” He glanced up at the sky. “It looks like it might rain. Besides, I warned you . . . my flame is mighty.”
“I thought you were embellishing.”
“I don’t embellish.”
“I see that now.”
They stepped through a wall of flames and into the clearing as Feoras and his fellow traitors got to their claws.
Feoras was angry now. Bram could see that. Because it was one thing to be bested by a fellow Dragonwarrior, even a female, but by a politician? No. He wasn’t having that.
More traitors landed in the clearing.
“They weren’t there,” one of the soldiers told Feoras, before his eyes locked on Ghleanna in surprise.
“Where are they, Ghleanna?” Feoras demanded. “We’ve been watching that kin of yours for days, knowing they’d lead us to the politician. And we both know they won’t leave you to fight alone with just this one by your side.”
“They’re waiting,” she told him.
“For what?”
“For me to kill you.”
That’s when Ghleanna threw the first battle axe. But Feoras was fast. He quickly stepped aside, and the axe hit the dragon behind him in the chest—killing him instantly.
“Bitch,” Feoras snarled.
“Come on, Feoras.” She swung her second axe in an arch. The flat of it slapping hard into the middle of her claw. “Let’s finish this.”
He roared and charged her and Ghleanna flew at him. They met, collided, and spun. When they landed, Ghleanna pulled away first and swung her axe. Feoras ducked, moved around her. She quickly turned, lifted her weapon, and blocked the sword aimed at her back.
More dragons surrounded Bram, but these were friends not foes.
“This has been coming,” Addolgar remarked while he watched. He’d never intervene in his sister’s fight unless her death was imminent. That was the Cadwaladr way.
“Aye,” Bram answered. “It has.”
“Were you two all right down there? With them Fins?”
“Aye. Quite all right. The Empress wants a truce with Rhiannon and her army came to worship Ghleanna.”
Addolgar shook his head. “How does the cranky cow manage to do that? A few days with her—and they’re ready to follow my sister into hell.”
Feoras slammed his fist into Ghleanna’s snout, sending her tripping back. But she stayed on her claws and struck again.
“What about you, peacemaker?” Addolgar asked.
Without taking his eyes off Ghleanna, “What about me?”
“Would you follow my sister into hell?”
“Wherever her soul goes, mine will follow.” Bram let himself briefly glance at Addolgar. “She means everything to me. But you already knew that.”
“Yeah. We already knew. The whole lot of us. But you’re so damn polite, we figured you needed a push.” He gestured at the growing number of watching dragons. “We never expected all this, though.”
“Your disrespect to Captain Ghleanna,” Bram said from his tree, his voice soft, “offends me.”
“Does it now?” Feoras said with a laugh. “Oh, well. Don’t want to offend Bram the Merciful. He might bore us to death with his vast knowledge of nothing.” Feoras sauntered closer but not close enough to Ghleanna’s axes. “So, Mercy . . . you seem quite attached to the fair Captain. Tell me, did you two get close while she was trying to survive the wound I gave her?”
Bram continued to scribble away on his parchment. “We did. Very close. In fact—” he finally looked up from his papers but he gazed at Ghleanna—“I love her. Have for years.”
“Gods!” Feoras laughed. “Are you really that desperate, friend? Because the honest truth is, when it comes to getting under a Cadwaladr wench’s tail, the last thing you need to do is tell them you love them.” He eyed Ghleanna and she couldn’t believe she’d ever found him attractive. “That’s how it is for all of them, but especially Ailean’s offspring. All whores . . . just like their father.”
Ghleanna had heard it all before but, unlike her sisters, she never knew how to let it roll off her scales like rainwater. But that was before, wasn’t it? When she actually gave a centaur shit what other dragons thought. Now, however, she realized what her kin had been trying to tell her was true—she was a mighty She-dragon who could do better than Feoras the Traitor. A sad, jealous lizard not worthy of her time or her drunken whining. That being said, she also had no intention of letting Feoras goad her into a rash move. There was a plan, and she intended to stick with it.
But when Bram unleashed an explosion of flame that rammed into Feoras and half his soldiers, sending them flying back through the trees, decimating part of the forest in the process while setting fire to another part . . . she had to admit she was surprised. And rather impressed.
“What?” Bram asked her when she could only gawk at him. “I thought you wanted them over in that clearing so they were surrounded by your kin.”
“I . . . I did. It’s just I thought you were going to run and let them give chase. Not set the entire forest on fire.”
“I don’t run for anybody. I wouldn’t worry about the forest.” He glanced up at the sky. “It looks like it might rain. Besides, I warned you . . . my flame is mighty.”
“I thought you were embellishing.”
“I don’t embellish.”
“I see that now.”
They stepped through a wall of flames and into the clearing as Feoras and his fellow traitors got to their claws.
Feoras was angry now. Bram could see that. Because it was one thing to be bested by a fellow Dragonwarrior, even a female, but by a politician? No. He wasn’t having that.
More traitors landed in the clearing.
“They weren’t there,” one of the soldiers told Feoras, before his eyes locked on Ghleanna in surprise.
“Where are they, Ghleanna?” Feoras demanded. “We’ve been watching that kin of yours for days, knowing they’d lead us to the politician. And we both know they won’t leave you to fight alone with just this one by your side.”
“They’re waiting,” she told him.
“For what?”
“For me to kill you.”
That’s when Ghleanna threw the first battle axe. But Feoras was fast. He quickly stepped aside, and the axe hit the dragon behind him in the chest—killing him instantly.
“Bitch,” Feoras snarled.
“Come on, Feoras.” She swung her second axe in an arch. The flat of it slapping hard into the middle of her claw. “Let’s finish this.”
He roared and charged her and Ghleanna flew at him. They met, collided, and spun. When they landed, Ghleanna pulled away first and swung her axe. Feoras ducked, moved around her. She quickly turned, lifted her weapon, and blocked the sword aimed at her back.
More dragons surrounded Bram, but these were friends not foes.
“This has been coming,” Addolgar remarked while he watched. He’d never intervene in his sister’s fight unless her death was imminent. That was the Cadwaladr way.
“Aye,” Bram answered. “It has.”
“Were you two all right down there? With them Fins?”
“Aye. Quite all right. The Empress wants a truce with Rhiannon and her army came to worship Ghleanna.”
Addolgar shook his head. “How does the cranky cow manage to do that? A few days with her—and they’re ready to follow my sister into hell.”
Feoras slammed his fist into Ghleanna’s snout, sending her tripping back. But she stayed on her claws and struck again.
“What about you, peacemaker?” Addolgar asked.
Without taking his eyes off Ghleanna, “What about me?”
“Would you follow my sister into hell?”
“Wherever her soul goes, mine will follow.” Bram let himself briefly glance at Addolgar. “She means everything to me. But you already knew that.”
“Yeah. We already knew. The whole lot of us. But you’re so damn polite, we figured you needed a push.” He gestured at the growing number of watching dragons. “We never expected all this, though.”
