Last Dragon Standing
Page 126
“Killing him seems a little harsh,” she reminded Briec. “It’s not like he forced Izzy to do anything.”
“All I know is Celyn can’t stay here,” Fearghus insisted. “Don’t want him here. Eating our food. Using our clean water so his oozing wounds can heal.”
“You’re all being ridiculous,” Morfyd said. “We can’t throw him out.”
Gwenvael, the only one sitting down, tossed his feet up on the table.
“I’ve been thrown out for less, don’t see why he shouldn’t be.” Dagmar raised a finger. “If you have nothing of use to add to this conversation, Defiler, then quiet.”
“It’s not like we’re telling him to leave the Southlands completely,” Fearghus argued, probably thinking he was being quite generous.
“I think he should leave the Southlands completely.” Briec pointed at the two Northlanders feeding at the other end of the table. “He can go back to that shit-hole of a territory with those two idiots.” Talaith winced and mouthed to their now-scowling guests, Sorry.
Éibhear ran into the hall.
“You should have killed him,” Briec said again before his brother could utter a word.
“What’s wrong?” Fearghus asked.
“I don’t know, really.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“Lord Ragnar told me to come and get you.”
Gwenvael’s feet hit the floor. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I was looking for Keita and, you know”—he shrugged—“figured if what everyone was saying was true, he’d know where she was, but then he asked me if I’d seen Keita. The way he was acting—it was like she’d vanished right in front of him.”
Talaith shook her head. “This can’t be good.”
“Everyone calm down,” Morfyd cut in. “She probably ran off because she couldn’t stand the sight of him anymore. You know how she is.”
“Perhaps we shouldn’t assume that our baby sister simply vanished during a conversation merely to get away from him.” Fearghus pointed at Gwenvael. “Go check behind the guard houses. Briec, check the—”
“Wait. Wait,” Morfyd said with an annoyed sigh. “Give me a moment to check for her.”
Morfyd closed her eyes, and Talaith watched the tendrils of Magick that surrounded the dragoness at all times lift away from her body and stretch out in all directions. It was a beautiful and amazing thing to witness, and a shame only a few could actually see it.
“Will this take long?” Gwenvael asked. “I’m already bored.”
“I say we rip the scabs off our cousin…to pass the time,” Briec suggested.
Morfyd’s eyes snapped open, and she looked around the room. “Oh, gods.”
Talaith slipped off the table where she’d been sitting. “What is it?”
“Elestren.”
A moment of stunned silence followed, all of them staring at each other. Then they were running for the Great Hall doors.
Not wanting to slow them down, Talaith and Dagmar followed, even though they had no intention of going anywhere.
Briec stopped by the Northlanders, sizing them up before he asked, “You’ll watch out for them, until we return?” Vigholf—Talaith could only tell the Lightning apart from his cousin because of his short hair—nodded once. Briec glanced back at Talaith and then bolted out the door.
Meinhard—he had the longer hair and the slightly bigger head—looked up and asked, “Think we can we get more food while we’re watching out for you?”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Keita landed hard, her shoulder shoved out of place, two of her talons breaking. Groaning, she rolled onto her back, but the rope around her throat, made out of extra-strong steel, tightened and yanked her to her knees.
“Come, come, cousin. I thought you were tougher than this.” Keita had shifted to dragon as soon as her cousin looped the rope around her neck and yanked her off the ground like a sack of grain. Elestren hadn’t taken her far, but she was in a cave she didn’t recognize. It was well lit with torches and multiple pit fires. Something told Keita this was a meeting place. But meeting for what, she probably didn’t want to know.
Elestren grabbed Keita by the hair, snatching her head back. “Did you think you could betray your queen and there would be no repercussions from us, princess?”
When Keita didn’t answer her question, Elestren shoved her forward again. Keita’s head bounced against the floor, and for a few brief minutes, everything went black.
When she woke again, more dragons had arrived. Two Elders and several of the Queen’s Royal Guard. Keita noticed that her father was not among them.
“She’s the queen’s daughter, Elestren,” Elder Teithi was in the midst of arguing.
“And a traitor. She protected Esyld and met with those two idiots we know for a fact are trying to remove the queen from the throne.” Elestren walked around Keita. “I’m not saying she should die. But we can’t allow her to be roaming free, working against us.”
“So what do you suggest?”
“We take her to the desert borders. My cousins will keep her busy at the salt mines until this is straightened out.” Damn. Now she understood where she was. The meeting place of the Royal Guard Council. They chose those who earned a place among her mother’s guard—and judged those who broke the guard’s rules. In theory, the Council should only be judging members of the royal guard, not a royal.
“All I know is Celyn can’t stay here,” Fearghus insisted. “Don’t want him here. Eating our food. Using our clean water so his oozing wounds can heal.”
“You’re all being ridiculous,” Morfyd said. “We can’t throw him out.”
Gwenvael, the only one sitting down, tossed his feet up on the table.
“I’ve been thrown out for less, don’t see why he shouldn’t be.” Dagmar raised a finger. “If you have nothing of use to add to this conversation, Defiler, then quiet.”
“It’s not like we’re telling him to leave the Southlands completely,” Fearghus argued, probably thinking he was being quite generous.
“I think he should leave the Southlands completely.” Briec pointed at the two Northlanders feeding at the other end of the table. “He can go back to that shit-hole of a territory with those two idiots.” Talaith winced and mouthed to their now-scowling guests, Sorry.
Éibhear ran into the hall.
“You should have killed him,” Briec said again before his brother could utter a word.
“What’s wrong?” Fearghus asked.
“I don’t know, really.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“Lord Ragnar told me to come and get you.”
Gwenvael’s feet hit the floor. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I was looking for Keita and, you know”—he shrugged—“figured if what everyone was saying was true, he’d know where she was, but then he asked me if I’d seen Keita. The way he was acting—it was like she’d vanished right in front of him.”
Talaith shook her head. “This can’t be good.”
“Everyone calm down,” Morfyd cut in. “She probably ran off because she couldn’t stand the sight of him anymore. You know how she is.”
“Perhaps we shouldn’t assume that our baby sister simply vanished during a conversation merely to get away from him.” Fearghus pointed at Gwenvael. “Go check behind the guard houses. Briec, check the—”
“Wait. Wait,” Morfyd said with an annoyed sigh. “Give me a moment to check for her.”
Morfyd closed her eyes, and Talaith watched the tendrils of Magick that surrounded the dragoness at all times lift away from her body and stretch out in all directions. It was a beautiful and amazing thing to witness, and a shame only a few could actually see it.
“Will this take long?” Gwenvael asked. “I’m already bored.”
“I say we rip the scabs off our cousin…to pass the time,” Briec suggested.
Morfyd’s eyes snapped open, and she looked around the room. “Oh, gods.”
Talaith slipped off the table where she’d been sitting. “What is it?”
“Elestren.”
A moment of stunned silence followed, all of them staring at each other. Then they were running for the Great Hall doors.
Not wanting to slow them down, Talaith and Dagmar followed, even though they had no intention of going anywhere.
Briec stopped by the Northlanders, sizing them up before he asked, “You’ll watch out for them, until we return?” Vigholf—Talaith could only tell the Lightning apart from his cousin because of his short hair—nodded once. Briec glanced back at Talaith and then bolted out the door.
Meinhard—he had the longer hair and the slightly bigger head—looked up and asked, “Think we can we get more food while we’re watching out for you?”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Keita landed hard, her shoulder shoved out of place, two of her talons breaking. Groaning, she rolled onto her back, but the rope around her throat, made out of extra-strong steel, tightened and yanked her to her knees.
“Come, come, cousin. I thought you were tougher than this.” Keita had shifted to dragon as soon as her cousin looped the rope around her neck and yanked her off the ground like a sack of grain. Elestren hadn’t taken her far, but she was in a cave she didn’t recognize. It was well lit with torches and multiple pit fires. Something told Keita this was a meeting place. But meeting for what, she probably didn’t want to know.
Elestren grabbed Keita by the hair, snatching her head back. “Did you think you could betray your queen and there would be no repercussions from us, princess?”
When Keita didn’t answer her question, Elestren shoved her forward again. Keita’s head bounced against the floor, and for a few brief minutes, everything went black.
When she woke again, more dragons had arrived. Two Elders and several of the Queen’s Royal Guard. Keita noticed that her father was not among them.
“She’s the queen’s daughter, Elestren,” Elder Teithi was in the midst of arguing.
“And a traitor. She protected Esyld and met with those two idiots we know for a fact are trying to remove the queen from the throne.” Elestren walked around Keita. “I’m not saying she should die. But we can’t allow her to be roaming free, working against us.”
“So what do you suggest?”
“We take her to the desert borders. My cousins will keep her busy at the salt mines until this is straightened out.” Damn. Now she understood where she was. The meeting place of the Royal Guard Council. They chose those who earned a place among her mother’s guard—and judged those who broke the guard’s rules. In theory, the Council should only be judging members of the royal guard, not a royal.
