“More than once. As human. When the Cadwaladrs have no dragons to fight, we’l join human armies.”
“Your royal cousins do the same?”
Rhona had to laugh at that. “My cousins? Direct bloodline from the House of Gwalchmai fab Gwyar? Hardly. Even my Uncle Bercelak, their father, a true Cadwaladr, never had much use for humans except as a quick-moving snack. Then Annwyl came along . . .” Rhona shook her head.
“Nothing’s been the same since Fearghus found that female dying outside his cave about twelve or so years ago. Then there was Talaith and Dagmar. . . . Then the offspring were born and al bets were off.”
Vigholf nodded slowly. “I see, but your cousin, Keita . . .”
“What about her?”
“She hides something.”
“Keita hides much,” Rhona admitted. “She is a Protector of the Throne. She wil do al in her power to safeguard the throne of our kind, even to her death.”
“She’d go that far? Even to risk her young nieces and nephew?”
“I doubt Keita thinks she’s risking them. And she has and wil risk her own life. I know now that’s never a question.” For tiny Keita had faced the wrath of their bitch cousin Elestren, who was anything but tiny. Elestren had believed Keita a traitor and, without orders, set about sending Keita to the salt mines on the Desert Land borders. Al because Keita had embarrassed the Dragonwarrior by taking her eye during fair combat training.
Unfortunate, perhaps, but Rhona’s own mother had lost the tip of her wing while training with her sister Ghleanna. Something that affected her flying, but over the centuries she’d learned to manage it. And she’d never held it against her sister.
Yet Keita had faced Elestren bravely, proving what Rhona had always suspected about her cousin—Keita was nothing like she seemed.
Taking Rhona’s word for it, he motioned to her food. “Eat.”
“Thanks for this.”
The Lightning grunted before asking, “And Keita’s grand scheme—you al right with it?” Around the dried beef she chewed, Rhona replied, “It is what it is.”
“So you just accept it then?”
She shrugged, biting off a piece of bread. “Why wouldn’t I accept it?”
“But you didn’t ask anything. Push for more answers from Keita. What if this isn’t what it seems at al ? What if it’s worse?”
“Then I’l adjust. Because that’s what a good soldier does. I fol ow orders. I adjust. That’s what I’l do now.” Vigholf didn’t understand this female. She never asked questions, she never disobeyed, and she never did more than fol ow the orders given. Yet she was in no way lazy or stupid or incapable. Although female, she fought extremely wel and deserved her title of sergeant. But Vigholf couldn’t help but see more for her. Just like the rest of her siblings, who, to be honest, he didn’t find nearly as capable.
So then what was it? Why did she seem happy to simply settle for being an order taker?
“Do you even like being a soldier?” he asked. “Because it never sounds like you do.” Her eyes widened a bit and he realized he’d surprised her with his question. Had no one asked her if she’d wanted to be a soldier? Then again .
. . after knowing Rhona’s mother, he doubted that anyone had asked Rhona anything. It was probably a given.
“I like it wel enough,” she eventual y answered.
“Do you love it?”
She took an even longer time to answer that, slowly chewing her food and staring thoughtful y out over the land.
“I’m good at it,” she final y replied, dark brown eyes focusing on him. “I am, point of fact, the best soldier you’l ever meet. The most loyal, the most dedicated, the most skil ed. But I am no more than that. I am no more than the best soldier you’l ever meet.”
“You make that sound like a bad thing.” To be honest, he’d kil for a troop fil ed with nothing but soldiers like Rhona.
“Among my kin . . . it’s a disappointing thing. So when I talk about it, what you hear isn’t hatred over what I do. Just resignation.” She handed over half the meat and bread he’d given her. “You’l need to keep your strength up, too, Commander. We’l be back in Dark Plains in another day and a half,” she added, expertly climbing down from her perch, “and I sense we’l need your Northland strength.” Then she was gone and Vigholf spent his watch thinking about brown eyes and the resignation he’d seen within them.
Chapter 7
They ended up taking several breaks because of Ren during the next day of travel. Whatever Magicks the Eastlander was doing were quite strong and Rhona began to worry about him.
While Keita took a quick nap by the base of a tree a few feet away, Rhona crouched beside Ren. They’d shifted to their human forms and dressed in case any true humans stumbled upon them. The path they’d been flying above was often busy this time of year, and Rhona had no desire to kil some human because he simply stumbled into the midst of dragons and felt the need to warn his neighbors.
“What can I do for you, old friend?” Rhona asked.
Ren smiled at her. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine. You look like you’ve been out drinking with my cousins.”
“Gods, do I real y look that bad?” He grinned and Rhona felt better for seeing it. “I’m fine,” he insisted. “Real y. Exhausted, but fine. Once I get the children into the Eastlands, my father’s strength and the power of my parents’ home wil get me back to my old self. I promise.”