Dragon on Top
Page 45
“Nor I. Not for an alliance.”
“An alliance in writing. With dragons of the Desert Lands. You make that happen, and Rhiannon becomes the strongest dragon monarch in the last six centuries.”
When Bram only blinked, Addolgar added, “I’m not stupid, royal. No matter what you’ve heard.”
Ghleanna blocked another blow from Feoras’s sword. Spun, brought her axe down, and when he blocked it, brought her tail around and slammed the tip of it into a weak spot under his arm.
Feoras roared in pain and yanked his body away from her. He stumbled a few feet ahead of her, bringing his arm down to stop the flow of blood.
Ghleanna turned on her talons, swung her axe and imbedded it into Feoras’s spine.
The dragon whimpered, his body tensed. Ghleanna yanked out her axe and walked around him. Feoras dropped to his knees, gazing up at her once she stood in front of him.
She held out her free claw to Addolgar and he tossed his own axe to her. Ghleanna caught it, held it.
“Don’t, Ghleanna,” Feoras begged. “Please. Don’t.”
Ghleanna stared at the dragon for a moment. “I never loved you at all,” she murmured. “I know that now.
“Of course—” Ghleanna hefted both axes—“that makes this so much easier.”
She brought both axes together, not stopping until the blades met in the middle of Feoras’s neck. The dragon’s head popped off clean, landing on the ground at Ghleanna’s claws while blood shot out and covered his comrades.
She stepped back and slowly looked over the other warriors and soldiers who were waiting. Waiting for their next orders. Their next decision. Ghleanna gave it to them.
“Death to all traitors!”
Her kin roared in agreement before descending on Feoras’s foolish sycophants. She walked through the slaughter and over to Bram. He, again, leaned against a tree—waiting for her. And beside him stood her father.
“You off then, Da?” she asked.
“Aye. Too old for all this killing.” And to prove that, her father turned and brought his axe down on the head of a traitor that had gotten too close. Spun once more and cut off the legs of another.
He faced them again. “Need to get back to my rocking chair and some hot tea.”
“Clearly.” Ghleanna hugged her father. “Tell Mum I’m fine and when this is all done, I’ll be back to see her.”
“You better. She will track you down if you don’t.” Ailean smiled at Bram. “Take good care of her, royal. She means the world to me.”
“I will, sir.”
Her father walked off and Ghleanna looked at Bram.
“That—” and he motioned to the pieces of Feoras’s body—“was a bit showy.”
“I like to give the lads a bit of a show. It’s good for morale.”
He leaned down, pressed his snout against hers. They held like that a moment and then he told her, “You have more killing to do.”
“And I thought you’d try to stop me.”
“My mercy has never extended to traitors, Ghleanna.”
She stepped away from him, twisting her axes in both hands. “Then I’ll get to work.”
“Good. Because when we’re done here, we still have a contact to meet in Alsandair.”
“Overachiever,” she accused him with a grin, before she turned and killed every traitor in her path.
Chapter 19
The Sand Dragon King’s first born son and his entourage of fifty, a count that did not include his battalion of warrior dragons, gazed down at Rhiannon for several minutes. He said nothing as he watched the queen, then sniffed and turned from her.
Bercelak had his sword out and almost embedded in the Prince’s back but the black dragon was taken down by at least four of his brothers and three of his sisters.
“I’ll sign,” the Prince said, sounding more bored than he’d been on the trip—which was no small feat. He represented his father on this, the king refusing to sign anything until he or someone he trusted had met with the new queen. So instead of Bram getting the signature he needed and returning to Rhiannon with alliance in claw, he’d been forced to bring the Prince and his entourage back to the queen’s court. It would have been an intolerable and long trip, too, if not for Ghleanna.
Bram held up the parchment and handed him a quill. The Prince scratched off his signature and walked out, his entourage and guards following.
Ghleanna motioned to several of her cousins, “Escort them to the Borderlands. Keep ’em safe until they cross.”
Once the Prince had left her court, Rhiannon snarled, “The arrogance!”
“He is the Dragon King’s first born and heir to his throne,” Bram reminded her.
“A throne of sand. As if that’s anything to brag about.” Rhiannon closed her eyes and roared, “Bercelak! Would you leave your brothers and sisters alone!”
“They started it!”
Rhiannon opened her eyes and smiled at Bram. “So my Lord Bram, it seems there are traitors in my midst.”
“Aye, my queen.”
“Did you get any names from Feoras?”
“Well . . .”
“I took his head before we had the chance,” Ghleanna admitted.
“Honestly!” Rhiannon shook her head. “Just like your brother. Kill first, ask questions of the corpse later. Well . . . I guess I’ll just have every Elder interrogated until someone admits his involvement—”
“An alliance in writing. With dragons of the Desert Lands. You make that happen, and Rhiannon becomes the strongest dragon monarch in the last six centuries.”
When Bram only blinked, Addolgar added, “I’m not stupid, royal. No matter what you’ve heard.”
Ghleanna blocked another blow from Feoras’s sword. Spun, brought her axe down, and when he blocked it, brought her tail around and slammed the tip of it into a weak spot under his arm.
Feoras roared in pain and yanked his body away from her. He stumbled a few feet ahead of her, bringing his arm down to stop the flow of blood.
Ghleanna turned on her talons, swung her axe and imbedded it into Feoras’s spine.
The dragon whimpered, his body tensed. Ghleanna yanked out her axe and walked around him. Feoras dropped to his knees, gazing up at her once she stood in front of him.
She held out her free claw to Addolgar and he tossed his own axe to her. Ghleanna caught it, held it.
“Don’t, Ghleanna,” Feoras begged. “Please. Don’t.”
Ghleanna stared at the dragon for a moment. “I never loved you at all,” she murmured. “I know that now.
“Of course—” Ghleanna hefted both axes—“that makes this so much easier.”
She brought both axes together, not stopping until the blades met in the middle of Feoras’s neck. The dragon’s head popped off clean, landing on the ground at Ghleanna’s claws while blood shot out and covered his comrades.
She stepped back and slowly looked over the other warriors and soldiers who were waiting. Waiting for their next orders. Their next decision. Ghleanna gave it to them.
“Death to all traitors!”
Her kin roared in agreement before descending on Feoras’s foolish sycophants. She walked through the slaughter and over to Bram. He, again, leaned against a tree—waiting for her. And beside him stood her father.
“You off then, Da?” she asked.
“Aye. Too old for all this killing.” And to prove that, her father turned and brought his axe down on the head of a traitor that had gotten too close. Spun once more and cut off the legs of another.
He faced them again. “Need to get back to my rocking chair and some hot tea.”
“Clearly.” Ghleanna hugged her father. “Tell Mum I’m fine and when this is all done, I’ll be back to see her.”
“You better. She will track you down if you don’t.” Ailean smiled at Bram. “Take good care of her, royal. She means the world to me.”
“I will, sir.”
Her father walked off and Ghleanna looked at Bram.
“That—” and he motioned to the pieces of Feoras’s body—“was a bit showy.”
“I like to give the lads a bit of a show. It’s good for morale.”
He leaned down, pressed his snout against hers. They held like that a moment and then he told her, “You have more killing to do.”
“And I thought you’d try to stop me.”
“My mercy has never extended to traitors, Ghleanna.”
She stepped away from him, twisting her axes in both hands. “Then I’ll get to work.”
“Good. Because when we’re done here, we still have a contact to meet in Alsandair.”
“Overachiever,” she accused him with a grin, before she turned and killed every traitor in her path.
Chapter 19
The Sand Dragon King’s first born son and his entourage of fifty, a count that did not include his battalion of warrior dragons, gazed down at Rhiannon for several minutes. He said nothing as he watched the queen, then sniffed and turned from her.
Bercelak had his sword out and almost embedded in the Prince’s back but the black dragon was taken down by at least four of his brothers and three of his sisters.
“I’ll sign,” the Prince said, sounding more bored than he’d been on the trip—which was no small feat. He represented his father on this, the king refusing to sign anything until he or someone he trusted had met with the new queen. So instead of Bram getting the signature he needed and returning to Rhiannon with alliance in claw, he’d been forced to bring the Prince and his entourage back to the queen’s court. It would have been an intolerable and long trip, too, if not for Ghleanna.
Bram held up the parchment and handed him a quill. The Prince scratched off his signature and walked out, his entourage and guards following.
Ghleanna motioned to several of her cousins, “Escort them to the Borderlands. Keep ’em safe until they cross.”
Once the Prince had left her court, Rhiannon snarled, “The arrogance!”
“He is the Dragon King’s first born and heir to his throne,” Bram reminded her.
“A throne of sand. As if that’s anything to brag about.” Rhiannon closed her eyes and roared, “Bercelak! Would you leave your brothers and sisters alone!”
“They started it!”
Rhiannon opened her eyes and smiled at Bram. “So my Lord Bram, it seems there are traitors in my midst.”
“Aye, my queen.”
“Did you get any names from Feoras?”
“Well . . .”
“I took his head before we had the chance,” Ghleanna admitted.
“Honestly!” Rhiannon shook her head. “Just like your brother. Kill first, ask questions of the corpse later. Well . . . I guess I’ll just have every Elder interrogated until someone admits his involvement—”
