A Tale of Two Dragons by G. A. Aiken
A true soldier.
Addolgar saw her eyes on him and he instantly smiled in a smooth, easy way that told her it was genuine. He was glad to see her. Glad to have her here. The realization warmed her more than she could have thought.
“Good morn to you,” he murmured, his low voice rolling seductively down her spine.
“Good morn.”
“We have to get up.”
“I know.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Me either,” she agreed. “But we have to, don’t we?”
“Think of it this way . . . we finish this quickly, and then we can go to my cave and spend as much time rolling around my floor as we like.”
“Your cave?”
“Or we can go to yours. Although mine is surprisingly nice. My brother Rhys decorated it.”
“Rhys? Rhys the Hammer decorated your cave?”
“He has a skill. The family tries not to judge.”
“So,” she couldn’t help but ask, “after this is all over, you and I—”
“Will be rolling around my or your cave floor. Was I not clear?”
Braith laughed. “No, no. You were quite clear.”
“You still look happy.”
“I am.” She hugged him. “I’m very happy.”
His arms tightened around her and he whispered into her neck, “Then let’s go track down that bastard father of yours and get this done with.”
They traveled for nearly three days, pushing their way toward the border. They took only short breaks for food and quick naps. Thankfully, the wind was on their side, helping them move fast.
Addolgar would admit—if he’d been asked—that his reasons for all this were quite selfish. Unlike his brother Bercelak, Addolgar didn’t give his all to the Queen. He gave his all to the battle. So finding a snotty-nosed traitor and returning him for whatever punishment the Queen had planned really didn’t interest him much. He was a warrior, not a pet dog to run errands.
But for Addolgar, this wasn’t about the Queen or her throne or anything but Braith. And he couldn’t help but feel that once her father was captured and handed over, things might change for her. Because right now, it seemed as if something was missing. He couldn’t explain why he felt this way. Couldn’t explain why he knew that whatever was missing had nothing to do with her father but what her father was keeping from her. Her true freedom, perhaps? Addolgar didn’t know, but he’d always trusted his instincts. Those instincts kept him alive in battle and relatively unharmed when home with his father. So he wouldn’t doubt them now. Instead, he’d follow them and get this job done, so he could focus on Braith and what she needed.
Addolgar simply couldn’t help himself. He wanted her to be happy. Whether she spent another second with him when this was all done or went off on her merry way without him, he wanted to know that wherever she was, she was happy. And right now, as much as he was sure she enjoyed her time with him, she was far from truly happy.
The suns had set and they’d just passed the border that separated the Southlands from the Outer Plains. He turned and dived, landing outside a mountain that Brigida had told him about. Braith landed beside him and they walked until he found the entrance. A pass that cut right through the heart of the mountain.
Addolgar stopped Braith before she could go farther. “Take this,” he said, handing her his sword.
She turned the weapon over in her claws. “Don’t you need this?”
“I have me ax and hammer. Don’t need much more than that in a fight.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know this weapon, Addolgar.”
“That’s all right.” He took the weapon back from her and proceeded to wrap the leather belt around her waist. The scabbard hung at her side and she smiled up at him. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked.
“It does. Doesn’t make me a soldier, though.”
“We’ll see,” he murmured, nodding. “Ready then?”
“Ready.”
Together, they flew through the mountain passage and the farther they went, the more Braith realized that Brigida was right. Her father had come this way. Recently. Braith could scent him.
When they neared the end of that passage, and the night sky was easy to see in the distance, Braith landed, with Addolgar right behind her. He placed one raised silver claw to his snout and Braith nodded.
Moving silently, they headed down the last of the passage until they reached a natural ledge jutting from the mountain. They both eased to their bellies, drew their wings in tight, and crawled to the end of the ledge. They peeked over the side and that’s when Braith saw her father, along with both of her brothers. Lady Katarina stood next to Emyr and looked upset, busy wringing her claws while Braith’s father talked to a dragon she did not recognize. A purple dragon. A Lightning.
Braith turned her head to see if Addolgar had realized what this situation had just become when a flash of steel from the corner of her eye caught her attention. But before she could scream a word of warning, the tip of the spear rammed into the ankle of Addolgar’s back claw. Blood gushed from the wound and Braith expected to hear a scream of pain from the dragon, but all Addolgar did was grit his fangs and turn murderous, glowering eyes on his attacker.
There were two Lightnings standing behind them with grins on their faces. But those grins faded when they saw Addolgar’s expression, and then watched the silver dragon stand to his full height, the spear still jutting from his back leg.
Addolgar grabbed the one who’d attacked him by the snout and easily shoved him to his knees and held him there. The other Lightning raised his own spear to fight Addolgar, but Braith caught the weapon. The Lightning tried to rip the spear from her grip, but she held on. She wouldn’t let them hurt Addolgar any more than they already had. The Lightning pulled again and, annoyed, Braith tore the weapon from his grasp. She pointed the spear at his face.
“You’re no warrior,” the Lightning snarled at her.
“I know,” Braith replied before she rammed the spear through the Lightning’s eye. Unlike Addolgar, he did scream.
Addolgar, taking her cue, gripped the other Lightning’s jaws and yanked them apart and kept yanking until the bottom part tore away from the Lightning’s face. He dropped the gurgling but dying dragon to the ground, and Braith turned to where she’d last seen her father. He still stood there even as her brothers and the other Lightning dragged Lady Katarina away.
“Treacherous female,” Emyr hissed.
And, in reply, Braith lifted two talons and flicked them at her father.
Braith’s brother Meical returned to grab hold of their father’s forearm and pull him away. They’d hit the skies soon.
“Go,” Addolgar told her. “Go after them.”
Braith shook her head and faced Addolgar. “I’ll not leave you.”
“Braith—”
“I’ll not leave you. In fact”—she crouched down and looked at the spear jutting from his leg—“I need to get you to a healer before you bleed to death. I think an artery was hit, Addolgar.”
“But your father—”
“Can wait to face his death. You’re more important right now.”
Addolgar sighed. “Gods-dammit.”
“What?”
“The old bastard.”
“My father,” she assumed as she put Addolgar’s forearm over her shoulder and helped him step over the bodies of the Lightnings.
“No,” Addolgar corrected. “Mine! The old bastard was right. I need to pay attention to what’s going on around me at all times. I can’t let a good set of legs and a pretty smile distract me.”
“Yes, yes,” Braith complained. “Katarina has very nice legs.”
“I don’t mean Katarina, brat. I’m talking about you.”
“Oh.” Braith worked hard not to smile, considering the current situation they were in. “Well, then . . . we definitely have to get you to a healer so that I can continue to enjoy these sorts of compliments.”
“I
“If I can get you over the border . . . I think I know those who can help us.”
“You don’t look very happy about it.”
“Only because I know they have no desire to see me. But that means nothing to me right now.”
“Uh . . . shouldn’t we take this spear out before we head off?”
“We take that spear out, Addolgar, and you’ll be dead before we get out of this passage.”
“Oh,” he replied softly. “All right. Guess we’ll leave it in then.”
Chapter 14
Braith practically had to hold him up the last few leagues of their flight. He could feel his life ebbing from him as every mile passed. But Braith wouldn’t let him go. She wouldn’t allow him to keep telling her to go after her father, or for her to go on ahead of him. Instead, she kept him steady and kept talking to him. He’d never known she could be so chatty before. Then he realized that she wanted to make sure he didn’t pass out.
“Here,” she yelled over the wind they were pushing against. “We’re landing here.”
Addolgar nodded, not in the mood to say anything. They landed in front of a cave opening buried deep in the woods a few leagues from the Southland borders. With his forearm still around her shoulders, Braith led him inside.
“You can rest now,” she said, helping him to a boulder and pushing him against it until he could relax and slide down to the ground.
“I’ll be right back, Addolgar,” she told him, clinging tight to his front claws. “You hold on for me.”
“I have to. I refuse to die with this stupid spear sticking out of my leg.”
She nuzzled his cheek and stood, releasing his claws. He watched her walk off down a passage. And, a few seconds later, he watched several dragons covered in fur from head to claw silently follow right behind her.
Addolgar opened his snout to warn her, but one of the dragons stopped, focused on him, and waved a single talon at him.
At that point, all Addolgar could do was wait. As far as he was concerned, it was the strangers’ funeral pyre because he knew what they would be facing.
Braith hadn’t gotten far from where she’d left Addolgar when she knew that someone was behind her. She sensed the presence because she heard nothing. Felt only the air move as a weapon was brought down toward her.
She followed her instincts and dropped into a crouch, spun with her tail lashing wildly behind her. The one right behind her was tossed onto her back, blue hair tumbling out from under a fur cape, bright green eyes glaring up at Braith. The female never lost her weapon, though. Nor was she alone. There were three others. All young, female, armed, and ready to fight.
Then again, so was Braith.
She reared back and raised her fists. The four females glanced at each other, then dropped their weapons, tossed off their capes, reared back, and raised their fists.
Grinning, Braith nodded—and threw the first punch.
Addolgar heard the familiar sounds of a brawl and opened his eyes to see Braith tossed out of the passage. But she got back to her claws and was ready when the first She-dragon ran at her. Then another. And another. Four altogether attacking Braith. Yet . . . she didn’t seem to mind. She seemed to be having fun. In fact, if he didn’t know better . . . he’d think she’d forgotten about him completely.
She caught a wrist, twisted, and caught a back claw aimed for her face. She yanked both in the opposite direction, and still managed to block a tail to the neck, and a fist to the spine.
Even bleeding to death, Addolgar was impressed.
Braith unleashed her wings and went up to the ceiling holding on to a tail and a fist. Using her wings, she spun in the air, taking the She-dragons with her, and dropped them when she had some speed. Both She-dragons went flying, and Braith landed hard on the ground, panting and grinning—until she saw Addolgar. And the way her grin faded, Addolgar realized something....
“Piss and shit . . . she did forget all about me.”
Gods! What had she done! The only dragon she’d ever wanted to be with and she’d forgotten he was out here . . . dying! Because she had a chance to brawl against She-dragons just as strong and ridiculous as she was!
She was horrible! She was a horrible, horrible She-dragon! She wasn’t even a dragon. No. At this moment, she was like a human. A worthless, pathetic, weak human! Her mother would be so ashamed!
Well . . . her mum would be ashamed of how she’d forgotten about poor Addolgar. But her mother wouldn’t be ashamed of the way Braith slammed her back claw down, catching hold of the tail trying to trip her to the floor while she was busy worrying about poor Addolgar.
Braith reached down, grabbed that tail, and began to ram the She-dragon it was attached to against the cave wall until a voice bellowed out, “What in all of damnation is going on here!”
Startled, Braith released the tail and the She-dragon she’d been battering and faced that bellowing voice.
Another blue She-dragon. Older. Green eyes widening at the sight of Braith.
“Gods. Braith? Little Braith?”
“Hello, Aunt Crystin,” Braith greeted.
Beside her, one of her cousins stood, looked Braith over, and demanded of Crystin, “Little?”
Indignant, Braith glowered at the She-dragon and demanded, “Throwing boulders from that glass cave are we?”
Kin. Now he understood. They were all kin. He could see it now that the fur capes were off and he had nearly ten She-dragons with blue hair, wide shoulders, and startling green eyes, staring intently at him.
“I think he’s already dead,” one of the younger ones observed.
“He is not dead,” Braith snapped.
“Everyone calm down.” An older one carefully examined his wounded leg. “This spear nicked an artery.” She glanced at Braith. “You were smart not to remove this.”
“I was hoping I’d made the right decision. He was in so much pain.”
“He looks familiar to my eyes,” another older She-dragon noted. “Do we know him?”
“He’s Addolgar the Cheerful,” Braith answered. “Of the Cadwaladr Clan.”
The one called Crystin gasped. “Gods. One of Ailean’s offspring?”
Then, in unison, the four older She-dragons sighed out, “Ailean.”
Braith’s back straightened, understanding the smile on her older kin’s faces far too well.
“All of you?” she asked. Actually, it was more a demand.
“Not all at the same time,” the one examining his wound stated. “That would have been wrong.”
“And disgusting,” one of the younger ones muttered.
“He looks quite a bit like his father,” another older one stated. “In the face. Similar snout. Don’t you think, Crystin?”
“I do. But there was just something about that dragon, wasn’t there, sister? Something . . . delicious.”
“You know my father’s not dead, Mum?” one of the younger ones complained. “He may not be here, but you could at least show a bit of respect around his favorite daughter.”
Another young one looked at the first. “Daddy never said you were his favorite.”
“But I know I am.”
“We should move him,” his healer stated, resting back on her haunches. “He needs warmth from a fire, and it’ll take me some time to get this out without killing him in the process.”
Addolgar didn’t know if Braith made a sound or an expression that he missed, but the older one quickly soothed her with, “Do not worry so, Braith. This won’t be the first time I’ve fixed this kind of wound. And all those who’ve come to me have survived. We just need to take care. And I need you to be strong. Understand?”
“I do.”
She nodded. “You have your mother’s strength, child. You’ll be fine.” The healer looked at Addolgar. “I’m Owena. I’ll be taking care of you. And you’ll be fine. Understand, Addolgar?”
“That’s what’s been missing,”
“Missing?” Owena asked him.
“With Braith. I see it now,” he told them, wanting them to understand, should Owena have her first failure with this type of wound. “She’s home now. It was never her father.” He smiled up at Braith, took her claw in his. “You’re home now.”
Addolgar had other things to say, but he was so tired and everything was going sort of black anyway. It made more sense to close his eyes and stop worrying. So he did.
Braith gripped Addolgar’s claw. “He’s dead,” she gasped.
“He’s not dead,” Aunt Owena told her.
“He looks dead,” one of her cousins muttered.
“Shut up, Heledd.” Owena motioned to them. “Let’s get him inside.”
Together, they all lifted Addolgar—not an easy feat even for them—and carried him deep into the lair of the Penardduns. They placed him in a cavern with a blazing pit fire and a chest filled with Owena’s healing tools.
Braith’s mother had once told her that Owena was more fighter than healer, but someone among them had to do it and Braith’s grandmother had decided it would be Owena.
Once they had Addolgar facedown on a fur bedroll, Owena again examined his wounds and ordered two of the younger females to pull together clean cloth, water, and tools while Crystin grabbed Braith’s forearm.
“Come with me. Now.”
Braith knew what was about to happen. She’d come here out of desperation. That was all. But she’d face anything to save Addolgar. She truly would.
Crystin pulled Braith out of one chamber and into a much larger one. There was an enormous table surrounded by chairs that she assumed were used when the Penardduns were in their human forms. Another aunt, Aledwen, if Braith remembered correctly, walked in from a separate passageway, her eyes widening at the sight of Braith, just as Crystin’s had done.
Aledwen put her claw to her chest. “Gods. For a moment . . .”
“I know, sister,” Crystin said, her gaze on Braith. “I also thought our beloved sister had returned to us. You look so much like your mother, Braith.” Crystin straightened up a bit. “And you came here when you needed help—”