How to Drive a Dragon Crazy
Page 18
Éibhear walked up to Aidan and the others.
“What’s going on?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
“Your general thought she’d killed the ogre leader. She hasn’t.”
“A decoy?”
“Aye. The ogres were tipped off by him there.” He nodded at the soldier on his knees. “Then while the general and her troops were fighting the decoy, he went into a nearby human town, grabbed one of the local girls off the street, and—”
Éibhear held up his hand, not needing to hear any more, and turned to watch this play out.
But then he remembered this was Iseabail he was dealing with. Not Annwyl. For if it were, the bastard’s head would be rolling right by Éibhear’s feet at this moment.
Instead, Izzy, although clearly disgusted, turned to her officers and began discussing “laws” and “rules” and what this worthless bastard did or did not deserve based on his dishonoring his role as a soldier blah, blah, blah, blah, blah!
Gods! Was she joking? Why was she wasting her time and, most importantly, his own?
Unwilling to wait a second longer, Éibhear looked at Aidan and motioned to the soldier with a tilt of his head.
Aidan frowned; then his eyes grew wide. He immediately shook his head, never one to just take his damn orders. So Éibhear focused on Uther. The only problem with Uther was that he was a little slower to grasp things, mostly because he was easily bored and didn’t always pay attention. By the third, adamant tilt of his head, Uther blinked and said, “Oh!” He chuckled. “Sorry.”
Shaking his head, Éibhear stood back and waited.
Although two of her officers wanted a hearing, the rest just wanted the soldier’s head removed so they could focus on the ogres. Izzy didn’t mind bothering with the niceties—when they had the time—but they now had the ogre leader’s correct location, so at the moment, they really didn’t.
She nodded at Fionn to keep an eye out in case any of the soldier’s comrades might try to intervene, while Izzy began to pull her sword from its scabbard.
She almost had it clear, too, when she heard Brannie say, “Uh, Iz?” mere seconds before the betraying soldier’s head and part of his shoulder tumbled past her legs, landing a few feet away.
Everyone fell silent, her officers refusing to meet Izzy’s gaze. Because they knew. It might take much to piss her off, but once she was . . .
“What just happened?” she asked her cousin, unwilling to turn around.
“Uhhhh . . .”
She was about to demand that Brannie say something besides “Uh” when Éibhear appeared in front of her. “Now can we go?” he asked, grinning.
She almost had her sword out of its scabbard again, when Brannie stepped up, shoving Éibhear away with one hand and taking firm hold of Izzy’s arm with the other.
“To the caves,” she ordered the officers, steering Izzy toward her horse. “We track down the ogres and finish them off tonight. Now move!”
“What is going on?” Izzy demanded while mounting her horse, which Samuel was holding by the reins.
“I was going to ask you.” Brannie settled into her own saddle, her horse patiently waiting for her. “What did he say he wanted?”
“He said he has orders to bring me back to Garbhán Isle.”
“Is there a problem?”
“I haven’t heard a word, but that could just mean the orders are coming from someone other than my mother.”
“You’re not going to go?”
“If it was important, Annwyl would have sent a proper messenger, not that idiot. No. I’ll go in my own time, Bran. Not because Éibhear the Annoying tells me to.”
“So,” Éibhear said, suddenly appearing next to her, his hand resting on her boot. “How long will killing this ogre leader take? Can we leave then?”
Snarling, Izzy shook the dragon’s hand off and clicked her tongue against her teeth. She spurred Dai forward and headed toward the caves and away from Éibhear the Annoying!
“What are you doing?” Aidan asked.
Éibhear shrugged. “Annoying her until she does what I want.” He glanced at his friend. “It’s worked before.”
“With Izzy?”
“No. But it’s worked with others.”
Uther, wiping off his blood-covered blade and placing it in its sheath, stepped beside Aidan. “So what are we doing now?”
“I’m bored,” Caswyn complained. And when they all stared at him: “What? Was I supposed to lie about that?”
“Yes.” Éibhear watched Izzy’s troops ride out. She and several battalions were going straight into the caves, but in case it was a trap, she had the rest of the legions surrounding the caves and coming in from the forest.
A wise move since ogres were not to be trusted.
“Ogres aren’t easy to kill,” Aidan remarked. “And the real leader will be much more of a challenge. So this could take some time.”
Éibhear placed his hands on his hips. “Well, that’s not going to work for me.”
Chapter 7
The flint axe came down hard, smashing another human’s head. The Leader felt nothing as he did it. These humans were nothing to him other than more skin to make into his kilts, more teeth to give his favorite breeder, and more blood to make his ale.
He’d brought his troops to this human village looking for food, breeders, and slaves. They’d done well this hunting season, cutting through this swath of countryside, leaving a trail of blood, death, and misery behind. That’s what he did best. What he enjoyed doing every season.
“What’s going on?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
“Your general thought she’d killed the ogre leader. She hasn’t.”
“A decoy?”
“Aye. The ogres were tipped off by him there.” He nodded at the soldier on his knees. “Then while the general and her troops were fighting the decoy, he went into a nearby human town, grabbed one of the local girls off the street, and—”
Éibhear held up his hand, not needing to hear any more, and turned to watch this play out.
But then he remembered this was Iseabail he was dealing with. Not Annwyl. For if it were, the bastard’s head would be rolling right by Éibhear’s feet at this moment.
Instead, Izzy, although clearly disgusted, turned to her officers and began discussing “laws” and “rules” and what this worthless bastard did or did not deserve based on his dishonoring his role as a soldier blah, blah, blah, blah, blah!
Gods! Was she joking? Why was she wasting her time and, most importantly, his own?
Unwilling to wait a second longer, Éibhear looked at Aidan and motioned to the soldier with a tilt of his head.
Aidan frowned; then his eyes grew wide. He immediately shook his head, never one to just take his damn orders. So Éibhear focused on Uther. The only problem with Uther was that he was a little slower to grasp things, mostly because he was easily bored and didn’t always pay attention. By the third, adamant tilt of his head, Uther blinked and said, “Oh!” He chuckled. “Sorry.”
Shaking his head, Éibhear stood back and waited.
Although two of her officers wanted a hearing, the rest just wanted the soldier’s head removed so they could focus on the ogres. Izzy didn’t mind bothering with the niceties—when they had the time—but they now had the ogre leader’s correct location, so at the moment, they really didn’t.
She nodded at Fionn to keep an eye out in case any of the soldier’s comrades might try to intervene, while Izzy began to pull her sword from its scabbard.
She almost had it clear, too, when she heard Brannie say, “Uh, Iz?” mere seconds before the betraying soldier’s head and part of his shoulder tumbled past her legs, landing a few feet away.
Everyone fell silent, her officers refusing to meet Izzy’s gaze. Because they knew. It might take much to piss her off, but once she was . . .
“What just happened?” she asked her cousin, unwilling to turn around.
“Uhhhh . . .”
She was about to demand that Brannie say something besides “Uh” when Éibhear appeared in front of her. “Now can we go?” he asked, grinning.
She almost had her sword out of its scabbard again, when Brannie stepped up, shoving Éibhear away with one hand and taking firm hold of Izzy’s arm with the other.
“To the caves,” she ordered the officers, steering Izzy toward her horse. “We track down the ogres and finish them off tonight. Now move!”
“What is going on?” Izzy demanded while mounting her horse, which Samuel was holding by the reins.
“I was going to ask you.” Brannie settled into her own saddle, her horse patiently waiting for her. “What did he say he wanted?”
“He said he has orders to bring me back to Garbhán Isle.”
“Is there a problem?”
“I haven’t heard a word, but that could just mean the orders are coming from someone other than my mother.”
“You’re not going to go?”
“If it was important, Annwyl would have sent a proper messenger, not that idiot. No. I’ll go in my own time, Bran. Not because Éibhear the Annoying tells me to.”
“So,” Éibhear said, suddenly appearing next to her, his hand resting on her boot. “How long will killing this ogre leader take? Can we leave then?”
Snarling, Izzy shook the dragon’s hand off and clicked her tongue against her teeth. She spurred Dai forward and headed toward the caves and away from Éibhear the Annoying!
“What are you doing?” Aidan asked.
Éibhear shrugged. “Annoying her until she does what I want.” He glanced at his friend. “It’s worked before.”
“With Izzy?”
“No. But it’s worked with others.”
Uther, wiping off his blood-covered blade and placing it in its sheath, stepped beside Aidan. “So what are we doing now?”
“I’m bored,” Caswyn complained. And when they all stared at him: “What? Was I supposed to lie about that?”
“Yes.” Éibhear watched Izzy’s troops ride out. She and several battalions were going straight into the caves, but in case it was a trap, she had the rest of the legions surrounding the caves and coming in from the forest.
A wise move since ogres were not to be trusted.
“Ogres aren’t easy to kill,” Aidan remarked. “And the real leader will be much more of a challenge. So this could take some time.”
Éibhear placed his hands on his hips. “Well, that’s not going to work for me.”
Chapter 7
The flint axe came down hard, smashing another human’s head. The Leader felt nothing as he did it. These humans were nothing to him other than more skin to make into his kilts, more teeth to give his favorite breeder, and more blood to make his ale.
He’d brought his troops to this human village looking for food, breeders, and slaves. They’d done well this hunting season, cutting through this swath of countryside, leaving a trail of blood, death, and misery behind. That’s what he did best. What he enjoyed doing every season.
