A Tale of Two Dragon

“Someone does!” she bellowed back, one of the few who showed no fear at the constantly snarling, glowering bear of a dragon. He had to be the most unpleasant bastard in the Southland territories, but, Braith could admit, he was very good at what he did, which was protecting the Southland borders.

“Oy,” another voice said. “Did you lot hear?”

Then he was there. As tall as his brother, but wider. Like a mountain of granite inside the mountain fortress.

“Hear what?” Ghleanna asked while still glaring at Bercelak.

“About Davon the Elegant.”

Ghleanna faced her handsome brother. “What about her?”

“Lightnings snatched her from her father’s cave.”

“What?” Ghleanna gasped, clearly shocked.

“Word is it was the Olgeirsson Horde.”

“We should have killed that bastard Olgeir long ago,” Bercelak growled. “The fact that he still breathes offends me.”

“Did you hear of this, Lady Braith?” Ghleanna asked Braith.

“I had not.”

But Braith wasn’t exactly surprised. The Northland dragons did not breed many females, so they were often forced to steal She-dragons from other regions. But She-dragons weren’t helpless victims waiting to be kidnapped, so the Lightnings usually cut off one wing when they took a female so that she could not fly away. And some She-dragons were so shamed by it, they ended up staying in the north with little to no fight. It was the kind of fear that could keep a She-dragon up at night and one of the reasons few knew where Braith lived. In fact, her father believed her cave was nearly fifty leagues away from where it actually was located. Not that she didn’t trust him but . . . no. She was lying. She didn’t trust him.

“Perhaps that’s why the Queen’s asked us here,” Ghleanna suggested. “So that we can track the bastards down and cut their hearts out.”

“I want Olgeir dead as much as you,” Bercelak complained, “but it annoys me that once again we need to run in and rescue the weak royals because they can’t protect themselves.”

Ghleanna rolled her eyes and rammed her fist into her younger brother’s shoulder.

“Ow! What was that for?”

Ghleanna motioned to Braith. “We’re standing next to a royal, you idiot.”

“Does she really count?”

That’s when Bercelak’s brother took notice and cheered, “Braith of the Darkness! You’re looking well!”

I am?

“She is?” Bercelak asked, which got him a shot to the neck from his sister’s tail. He pushed Ghleanna back and the two began fighting. Addolgar ignored them both to focus on Braith.

“It’s been a long time. How have you been doing?”

I’m fine. How are you? You’re looking very handsome today, Addolgar the Handsome, lord of my loins.

At least that was what she’d like to say to him, but instead she came out with, “Yeah, hi.”

Even worse, she said that into her chest because she couldn’t bear to look into those lovely brown eyes. Her tail curled into a circle like a snake caught under the hot sun and her claws curled into tight fists.

Gods, he was handsome. She’d never known such a handsome dragon. His dark silver scales shiny. His fangs bright white and long. His dark silver hair reaching past massive shoulders to powerful muscled forearms.

Handsome!

And what was she? Her lip almost curled. She was nothing but Braith of the Darkness. Destroyer of a single city that no dragon had ever heard of.

How was that impressive to someone like Addolgar? Revered Dragonwarrior. Loved by his army comrades—dragon and human—and considered one of the “nice” Cadwaladrs of their Clan. The only other nice Cadwaladr was Addolgar’s father, Ailean the Wicked.

Truth be told, it was Addolgar’s good nature that warmed Braith’s hard heart more than anything else. Not only because he was kind to her when even her own father was not, but also because he was kind to all he was not against in war.

Glancing over at his battling siblings, Addolgar said low, “Sorry about my brother, Braith. He can be a bit of a prat.”

“Yeah,” she said into her chest. “I know.”

“What did he come over here for anyway?” Since, apparently, they both knew he’d never walk this way to see Braith.

“Rhiannon, I believe.”

“Ahhhh. I see.” Addolgar laughed. “His obsession with her is so ridiculous. That royal would cut his throat while he slept and laugh while he bled out.”

Braith wished she could defend the princess on that . . . but it was probably true.

“You two friends then?” he asked.

“Not really.”

“Just royal politeness. I get it.”

“Guess you could say that.” Braith cleared her throat, studied her claws against the stone ground, and wondered when this nightmare of awkwardness would end.

“Oy! Addolgar!” his sister called out, now that she had Bercelak in a headlock.

“Looks like I’ve gotta go,” Addolgar said.

“Of course.”

“It was nice seeing you again, Lady Braith.”

“You, too.”

He walked around her and Braith let out a breath, grateful that was over. She hated that she seemed to be such a ridiculous mess around that dragon.

“You. Girl,” her father’s cold voice snapped at her from one of the chambers.