Oy. The Mì-runach. They took their kowtowing to the queen so seriously.
“Now, my sweets, what is going on?”
Before Keita could answer, Brannie explained, “Your daughter’s murdering people again.”
“It wasn’t murder, you peasant,” Keita argued. “It was necessary action.”
“That’s what all murderers say.”
Rhiannon held up her hand with a half-eaten plum in it. “Wait. Who are we talking about?”
“Duke Abernathy, his wife, his two eldest sons, and their guards,” Keita blandly explained. As if she was talking about inviting them to some stuffy tea rather than confessing she’d just killed all of them.
“Oh, yes.” Rhiannon shrugged. “Keita’s right. They had to go. They were giving gold and supplies to that idiot Salebiri. You must know, Branwen, that Abernathy has never been a fan of our Annwyl.”
“So his whole family had to die?”
“Yes,” mother and daughter said simultaneously.
“And Annwyl’s all right with that? Since they were human and under her reign.”
Staring at Brannie coldly, Rhiannon’s lips twisted to the side and, to her amazement, Brannie’s view was suddenly blocked by Aidan’s back.
“My queen,” he said in his best soothing voice, “Branwen’s been through much today and I’m sure—”
“I can talk for my—” Brannie began, but Aidan abruptly caught hold of her wrist and pulled her around until she was in front of him. Then he wrapped his arms around her as if he was hugging her from behind, except that his hand covered her mouth.
“—you can easily understand,” he went on, “how she is feeling. We were buried under a mountain. Poor Uther and Caswyn are injured.”
“My Mì-runach babies!” the queen gasped. “Perhaps I should go to them.”
“Mum!” Keita snapped. “We have a problem here. Now! Your pets can wait.”
“Can they travel?” Rhiannon asked Aidan.
“With a healer and a good night’s sleep, I don’t see why not.”
“Take care of that, Keita.”
“Mum—”
“Do as I say. You have a stop tonight anyway.”
“Which is what I need them for.”
“Then it should all work out, shouldn’t it?” Rhiannon snapped.
Brannie finally yanked Aidan’s hand away from her mouth. “I never said that I would—”
Now Aidan’s forearm covered her face so that she could again not speak.
Bastard!
* * *
Aidan was having the hardest time keeping Brannie quiet. As human, they were nearly the same tall height, which made putting his arms around her easier, but also made her his equal in a fight. And she was fighting.
He didn’t understand. Why didn’t she see that he was simply trying to protect her from her own Cadwaladr stupidity? No matter who she was, whom she was related to, or what rank she held, at the end of the day . . . Rhiannon was queen and she had only so much patience with those who questioned her orders.
How could Brannie not see it? How could she not see how much power the queen wielded? Not just as queen but as a witch. They were standing in what Rhiannon called her “sacred space.” A place with trees that had fresh fruit that could be eaten, one sun, and squirrels. There was one right there, climbing up a tree behind the queen. That was power. That was a She-dragon who could eat the world if she so chose. So what made Brannie think that she could get away with questioning Rhiannon’s orders?
Brannie managed to pull away by slamming her foot against his instep. Aidan stumbled back as she swung her arms wide to force him farther away.
“Get off! Get off! Get off!” she barked.
“He’s merely protecting you, Branwen.”
“Protecting me from what?”
Rhiannon smirked. “Me, silly girl.”
“I take my orders from your generals, Your Majesty. And until I hear from one of them, I will be heading back to my troops.” She turned to make a strong exit, but quickly realized they didn’t know how to exit Rhiannon’s world.
“You want orders?” Rhiannon asked.
“Actually, I want to get out of here.”
“Then orders you shall have.” Rhiannon raised her left hand and snapped her fingers.
Ghleanna the Decimator suddenly appeared. Wherever she’d been, she’d been leaning over. Perhaps at a desk. Probably going over battle plans. But the desk was no longer there and Ghleanna hit the ground hard.
She came up cursing. “What the unholy fuck—?” she bellowed, stopping short when she got to her feet, her eyes taking in the one sun above.
“Rhiannon,” she growled, “I hate when you do this.”
“Sorry, sister, but I need your assistance”—she swept her hand in Brannie’s direction—“with her.”
Ghleanna turned, her eyes widening at the sight of her daughter. “Branwen?”
“Hi, Mum.”
Suddenly Ghleanna stalked over to Brannie and grabbed her in a long hug.
“Uh . . . Mum?”
“We thought you were dead, Branwen,” Rhiannon explained.
Brannie blinked in surprise, her gaze flicking to Aidan’s over her mother’s shoulder. Then her arms were right around her mother, the pair hugging like they hadn’t seen each other in a century rather than a few months.
“I’m fine, Mum. Really.”
“What happened?” Ghleanna asked.
“Mountain went down.”
The general pulled back and gawked at her daughter. “The mountain went down?”
“Yeah. Mountain went down.”
“How is that even possible?” Ghleanna asked the queen.
* * *
Fearghus landed hard, Briec and Gwenvael right behind him. Taking a few more tentative steps, he leaned over and studied the long, wide schism that had opened up in what had once been the most recent battlefield of this war.
“What the battle-fuck is this?” Briec asked, leaning over Fearghus’s shoulder.
Without an answer for his brother, Fearghus instead examined the area. “Weren’t there mountains? Like . . . lots of mountains. All around here?”
“Aye. There were.”
Fearghus had been leading his troops here to attack from the skies when the very air around him turned violent, tossing him and the troops around for several seconds before they were able to right themselves again and proceed. He’d decided to keep his troops back until he investigated what the hell had happened. He still didn’t know, but he was sure that whatever had happened was not good. For anyone.
Gwenvael pushed past his brothers and leaned far over the pit to stare into the blackness. “Do you think they all fell down there?” he asked.
Briec glanced at Fearghus.
“Maybe you should find out,” Fearghus suggested, seconds before Briec shoved their younger brother in.
They ignored the screaming as Fearghus told Briec, “Let’s find the children.”
* * *
“They took out all the mountains in that region,” Rhiannon explained, her hands clasped together. “They used spells centuries old. From before even my mother’s time.”
“Destroying eons of work by gods and dragons.” Ghleanna shook her head. “Bastards.”
“Now my dragons have nowhere to safely hide from man or enemy. All in that region will be trapped out in the open.”
“So we’re pulling out?” Brannie asked, her rage seemingly gone now that her mother was here.
Aidan was relieved. He wasn’t sure that Brannie knew Rhiannon as well as she thought she did. She saw her as an aunt, but the queen didn’t let the love she had for her mate’s kin get in the way of her reign. Brannie hadn’t seen that side of her “dear auntie Rhiannon.”
Glances passed between Rhiannon and Ghleanna at Brannie’s question.
“What?” Brannie asked.
“We’ve pulled back, but we’re not pulling out,” Ghleanna told her daughter. “Instead, we’re planning a full strike—led by your uncle Bercelak.”