About a Dragon (Dragon Kin #2)(60)

Annwyl shook her head. “No. She’s merely the sword, Morfyd. I want the hand that wields her.”

“Easy enough.”

Morfyd walked over to the woman who still looked a little dazed. Of course, Annwyl had made sure to hit her hard. Taking firm hold of her hand, Morfyd ripped off the leather glove Talaith had been wearing since they met her and took the woman’s hand in her own.

“No!” Talaith, suddenly quite alert, tried to pull her hand from Morfyd’s grasp, but the dragonwitch merely gripped Talaith’s throat with her free hand and squeezed.

“Fight me, sister, and I’ll tear your throat out.”

Morfyd closed her eyes and everything became quiet. Annwyl knew if she were dragon or had any Magick skill whatsoever, she’d be able to see all the colors and flames and whatever else those magically inclined could see. But Annwyl was just a warrior with a dragon for a consort. All she could see were two women standing there like two statues. She found it a little odd.

Sighing from boredom, she walked over to her saddlebags and pulled out a flask of water. She took a long drink, but was startled when Morfyd suddenly said, “Oh. Oh.”

She turned to look at her and Morfyd was absolutely beaming while Talaith scowled at her intently. Morfyd always wore that expression when she knew an absolutely divine piece of gossip.

“What?”

Clearly trying not to laugh, Morfyd shook her head. “Nothing.”

“You lying cow. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” She coughed, and released Talaith’s hand. “Except you have some powerful enemies.”

“Tell me what I don’t know, witch.”

“Powerful enemies who are gods.”

For a moment, Annwyl was shocked beyond all reason…then she shrugged. “Now that I think of it—I don’t know why I would be surprised.”

* * *

Talaith sat impassively on Annwyl’s bed while Morfyd told of all she’d seen. She spoke of Talaith’s first love and how she lost the young soldier before their child had even been born. She told of how her mother and the other Nolwenn witches, blindingly angry at her relationship with the soldier and her soon-to-be-born child, tossed her out of the temple so she would learn a lesson. She knew they’d take her back as soon as the baby was born. What none of them saw was Arzhela. Her priestesses came for her the night of Talaith’s daughter’s birth. They tore the child from her arms and then dragged Talaith, bleeding and cursing, to their temple. Because Arzhela, goddess of light, love and fertility was their patron, most of the priestesses were midwives. They cleaned off the blood, healed her, and then told her quite plainly she’d never see her daughter again unless she did what they told her.

Three months later, they took her to the little village outside of Madron and handed her over to a man, telling her he would now be her husband. She would take care of his house, clean his clothes, feed him well and, in return, he wouldn’t question where she went every day. Because at those times, she would be in the local temple dedicated to Arzhela. There the head priestess would bring in the best of the best among the local assassins. For sixteen years they’d trained her until the moment when she would have to face a monarch so demonic, so evil, so contemptible in every sense of the word, she would thank the goddess for the chance to be the one to destroy her.

Talaith looked over at that “demonic, evil, contemptible” monarch who, at the moment, was busy blowing her nose into a cloth she’d picked up off the floor. Seemed the constant change in weather was making the evil demoness sneeze.

“So what do you want to do?”

The two women looked at her and Annwyl shrugged. “Well I can’t kill her now. I’m not that big a bitch.”

Morfyd raised an eyebrow. “It really depends on who you ask.”

“I hate you.”

The two women smiled at each other and Talaith briefly hated them for having such a close relationship. For having each other for friends.

Annwyl stared at Talaith for a moment, then asked, “You wanted me to kill you. Why?”

Talaith looked away from Annwyl’s direct, steady gaze. She heard Annwyl’s strong voice. “She won’t answer me.”

“She thinks she can’t. Because of Arzhela.”

She thinks she can’t? Talaith repeated in her head. What did this heifer know anyway?

“She can’t touch you here, you know.” Morfyd walked over and sat beside Talaith on the bed. “She’ll never get past me. Past my defenses.”

Talaith snorted in disbelief.

“It’s true. Stretch out for her. Feel for her.”

So Talaith did, and the witch spoke true. She couldn’t feel Arzhela within a league. It was like they were in a protective bubble. She hadn’t felt like this since she’d left the dragon’s protection.

“Arzhela hurt her before,” Morfyd explained to Annwyl. “When she tried to tell. But now…now Talaith only fears for her daughter. That’s why she wanted you to kill her. If she was killed in battle or while trying to kill you, her daughter would be taken to safety. But if she killed herself or told someone to kill her, Arzhela would make the girl pay.”

Annwyl sighed as she sat on the other side of her. Two tall, scary bitches surrounding her. Hell, Talaith, it could be so much worse. “I’m concerned for her daughter. Especially if she’s with Hamish.”