“Al right, al right.” Gods, he could ramble when provoked. “What do you suggest we do?”

“We need to find out what we’re looking at with these Western Tribes. Are they bringing one legion, two, a thousand? We should escort these two past the Dark Plains border and then go off on our own. Head toward the west and see how close this army is.”

“Okay,” Rhona agreed. “We’l do that.”

He scowled at her, but she didn’t know why. “Or you can give me your opinion.”

“My opinion?”

“Opinion. Suggestion. Ideas.”

“Ideas?”

His scowl worsened. “You do have ideas, don’t you?”

“I do, but you outrank me so—”

“First off,” he angrily cut in, “don’t pul that ox shit with me. We’re not here with an army that needs to be control ed. It’s just you, me, a weakened foreigner, and a poison-and-torture-happy princess. We can’t afford for you to only take orders. I don’t know this terrain and I think we both know you don’t want your orders to come from Keita. So, Sergeant, we need to do this together—as a team. So I ask you again—what’s your opinion?” Rhona knew Vigholf had a point, no matter how rudely that point was made. And although she was completely unused to giving her opinion—only Dragonwarriors had that luxury during battles and missions—she did as he’d asked.

“I think our job is to get Keita and Ren into Garbhán Isle safely. That alone wil be hard enough. The Western Tribes, the Tribesmen, are riders and nomads used to moving quickly al year round. They’re not marching on Dark Plains, Commander. They’re racing there, hoping to take advantage of Annwyl’s absence. It’s too risky to send Keita and Ren off on their own. And once we get them to Dark Plains, those two can also deal with the Kyvich.”

The Lightning studied her for a long moment. Then he nodded. “You’re right.” She was? And he was admitting she was? “I didn’t know about the Western Tribes. My Horde has never fought them. So you’re right. We can’t let those two off on their own. At least in Garbhán Isle they’l have some protection, and from what I remember of that territory, it wil be easier to defend.” He looked around. “We keep moving. I can carry the foreigner if need be.”

Although Ren wasn’t a large dragon, especial y compared to Rhona’s own kin, he would be no light burden for anyone. “And how long can you keep that up?”

Those clear grey eyes locked on her. “As long as I need to.”

“Oh.” She cleared her throat. “Al right then.”

“Let’s get moving. There stil may be Iron scouts out this far.”

And without another word said between them, they walked back to Keita and Ren.

Chapter 6

They ended up risking the skies when the first set of wild horses they came upon stampeded at the first scent of the Lightning. A moment that he could only shrug at and mutter, “Sorry.”

And although they made good time with only short breaks along the way, they were stil forced to get some real sleep that night.

Rhona, though, feeling more awake than tired, took first watch. In her human form, she went up high in a tree, using its leaves for cover. She briefly thought about letting the triplets know what was going on, what had changed, but decided against it. She trusted them, but if they worried for Fearghus and Briec’s offspring, they would most certainly alert the rest of the siblings and the rest of the siblings would tel Mum and Mum would make a straight line to Fearghus and Briec to complain about Keita using one of her soldiers—no, not her daughter, but one of her soldiers—for her

“nonsense,” which was what Bradana cal ed almost anything that Keita did. So it was best to say nothing.

After a few hours, Rhona felt a tap and looked down at Vigholf. And with a lightness belied by his great human size, he pul ed himself up until he sat across from her. The old tree groaned, but the limbs did not break under his weight as he settled in.

“Al clear?” he asked, his voice low.

“ Aye.”

“Good.” He handed over a cloth with meat and bread wrapped in it before turning his gaze to the land around them, grey eyes watchful. “Can you explain to me why the Tribesmen hate Annwyl so much?”

“Who says they do?”

“I doubt that just because a Quintilian monarch offers them payment they’l jump at the chance to take on Garbhán Isle.”

“Wel . . .” Rhona let out a little sigh, toying with the cloth holding her food. “Annwyl does not like slavery or slave traders, which is the Tribesmen’s top means of income. She struck first a few years back, hoping to convince them, in her own way, to give up slavery in exchange for her not wiping them from the planet. They never took her up on her offer, and then this thing with the Irons and Sovereigns happened and she stopped worrying about the Tribesmen. Especial y when she found out that most of the Tribesmen’s patrons were Quintilians.”

“And in Annwyl’s mind, kil the ones demanding the product and the suppliers wil go out of business?”

“Pretty much. For Annwyl it’s not about power but about everything being what she thinks is . . . right. She thinks slavery is wrong, so she tries to stop it. She thinks the Sovereigns ruling everything is wrong, so she tries to stop them.”

“You’ve fought by her side before?”