The queen blinked. “What?”
“It is all right, sister,” Kachka soothed. “I am ready for death.”
“What are you two—?”
“Don’t worry,” the beautiful dragon tossed in. “I’ll make sure you have a gorgeous funeral.”
“Gwenvael!” Annwyl roared.
“Why are you yelling at me? I didn’t do anything. It was the outsider!”
Annwyl yanked Kachka from her sister’s grip. “She’ll be fine,” she snapped before Elina could complain further.
“Do not worry, sister,” Kachka said as the queen dragged her off. “I will go to my death bravely!”
“It could be a trap,” Aggie warned.
“I know. But I have to chance it.”
Aggie nodded and continued to pace. She appeared worried, and he was sure that, to a degree, she was. But Gaius also knew his sister always appeared worried when she was thinking. Analyzing. She was very good at analyzing.
“Are you going to bring him back here?”
“That’s not my plan, sister.”
She stopped pacing, her grey eyes locking with his. “Good.” She began pacing again. “And what about Vateria?”
“No word on her. None. She could be dead.”
“That bitch isn’t dead, and we both know it.”
“I do know that she was wounded.”
Aggie slowed to a stop again and turned toward her brother. “Wounded?”
He shrugged. “According to General Iseabail. She wounded her spine. She could walk but never fly again.”
Aggie shook her head. “How long ago was this?”
“It’s been a few years.”
“And you never told me?”
“I don’t like to mention her to you. It upsets you.”
“No, brother. It upsets you.”
“I let her get you.”
Aggie laughed. “You didn’t let her get me. If anything I let her get me.”
“No—”
“She wanted me. She wouldn’t have stopped until she’d gotten me. But that was a long time ago, Gaius. I refuse to live in that nightmare anymore. I refuse to let the past rule me the way it once did.”
“Until Vateria’s dead, I won’t rest,” Gaius promised his sister. Again. “But until then . . . killing the rest of our cousins, loyal to her, will have to do.”
“Are you taking an army with you?”
“No. Just a few of my loyal soldiers. And I will go as a centurion, not as king.”
“Good.”
“I’ll find him. I’ll kill him. And I’ll put his head on a spike outside our palace walls.”
Aggie’s mouth curled in disgust. “What are we now? Southlanders?”
They ended up in the stables with the queen’s giant horses. Elina called them all “travel cows,” which always made Kachka laugh.
The queen dismissed her stable hands and proceeded to brush the hair on the black stallion she referred to as “Bloodletting.” A rather disturbing name, even by Rider standards.Once the queen began brushing the long black hair that swept across the horse’s large head, her entire being seemed to calm down. The constant swirl of insanity that always surrounded the queen appeared to drift away.
The fact that the horse was so calm around the queen, trusted her so much, told Kachka more than any words or actions of humans and dragons. There was only honesty from horses.
“So you drag me here, Southlander queen. Why?”
Annwyl glanced at Kachka and gave a small smile. One of the first Kachka could remember seeing from the woman. “You’re bored, aren’t you, Kachka?”
“Bored? No. Becoming weak and pathetic? Definitely.”
“Weak and pathetic? You? Really?” Annwyl nuzzled the horse’s snout and the horse nuzzled her back. He’d die for her, Kachka knew from just watching them. Then again, Kachka was also sure that Annwyl felt the same way. She seemed better with animals. Horses. Dogs. Dragons.
“You gave up a lot when you came here with your sister, didn’t you?”
Kachka had given up everything, but she didn’t want that to get back to her sister. So, instead, she said, “We all make choices. Then we must live with them.”
“You know your sister is safe here. With us. The dragons love her. Even Rhiannon, and she used to eat humans as a treat.”
“She sniffs my hair sometimes. It makes me uncomfortable.”
“Yeah, don’t let her do that too long.” Annwyl walked to the stall gate, rested her foot on one slat and her arms on the top, the brush still in her hand. “How would you like a job, Kachka Shestakova?”
“I already hunt your food.”
“No, no. A real job.”
“I will not join your army, Annwyl the Bloody. I will not take orders from men.”
“Yeah, I sensed that when you told the captain of my guards that if he didn’t get away from you, you were going to tear off his penis and fuck him with it.”
“He is lucky I did not go through with it.”
“You need a job. I have one for you.”
“What job, if not hunter? Getting dragons their daily meat.”
“The Chramnesind cult has been attacking temples all across my lands. Killing the priests and priestesses. Or, as they call it, purifying them. They must be working in small groups because they’re in and out in a few hours, leaving nothing but death in their wake. By the time my troops arrive, it’s all over.”
“Groups?”
“There is more than one because they’ve been known to attack temples that are leagues apart in a single night.”
“And what do you want me to do about your cults?”
“Find them. Kill them all. Make sure to leave a nice, bloody message that Duke Salebiri and his Chramnesind cult will know is from me. From what I’ve seen of you . . . I think that’s something you can do.”
“You think I am what the world says? A barbarian Rider preferring to kill rather than talk?”
“Yes,” the queen immediately replied.
Kachka nodded. “You are right. I am. Now tell me more about your Chramnesind cult, Southland queen.”
“I understand all of this except one thing, brother.”
“What?”
“Why are the Mì-runach here?”
“Well—”
“No, Gaius. No politics. No centaur shit. Just tell me.”
Gaius let out a sigh. “I wanted you to be protected by someone outside the empire. So I sent word to Rhiannon. Asking her to send someone to protect you. I thought that she would send a Cadwaladr. They may not be smart, but they’re effective.”
“And the crazy bitch sent her Mì-runach instead? That’s lovely.”
“Well, if anything, they can be trusted. Their loyalty is to their queen, and our alliance with the Southland dragons and the human queen is ironclad.”
“So you say.”
“One queen is insane and obsessed with proving her honor. The other likes me. You can guess which is which. The bottom line is . . . I trust them both, and they wouldn’t send anyone they couldn’t trust themselves. That would embarrass them. Nothing they hate more than being embarrassed.” He put his arms around his sister’s shoulders, pulled her into his chest, hugged her tight. “But if you don’t want me to go—”