How to Drive a Dragon Crazy (Dragon Kin #6)(41)

Celyn and Brannie stared at her for a long moment, looked at each other, then back at her, both saying together, “No.”

“No? What do you mean no?”

“No one tells the Mì-runach anything,” Celyn explained. “Except for the queen. She tells them what she wants and the Mì-runach make it happen.”

“Make it happen? How?”

Celyn shrugged. “Any way they want to. The Mì-runach end up in the Mì-runach because they won’t follow orders. At least not any orders that come from anyone but the queen.”

“If they can’t follow orders then why—”

“No. I said they won’t follow orders, not that they can’t.”

“That’s even worse then.”

“As warriors, they’re often too good to not be used.”

“That was our grandfather,” Brannie added. “He was a mighty warrior but the worst among the rank and file. Before our grandmother—”

“He loved f**king and eating and drinking. And he loved a good battle. But he hated taking orders.”

“Hated generals and commanders.”

“Hated being up in the morning.”

“Especially after a good night of f**king and drinking.”

Izzy, laughing, asked, “So he joined the Mì-runach?”

“One doesn’t join the Mì-runach.”

“Not willingly,” Brannie noted.

“So they’re forced,” Izzy surmised, again feeling bad about Éibhear’s situation.

“More like given little option,” Celyn replied. “It’s usually a choice between the Mì-runach or the salt mines.”

“Many take the salt mines.”

“But if you survive the first two years of training . . . you become Mì-runach.”

“Survive the training?”

“Which is hard enough, but when you’re full Mì-runach, you still go into battle without armor—”

“—without colors.”

“—without anyone really leading.”

Shocked, hands pressed to her cheeks, Izzy asked, “Do they at least have weapons?”

“Sometimes, I guess.” Celyn shook his head. “I’ll be honest, Iz. It’s not something I’d do.”

“But . . .” And Izzy couldn’t help but cringe in disbelief. “Éibhear?”

“After what happened to Austell the Red . . .” The young Dragonwarrior recruit had been killed during the final battle of the war against the Iron dragons. It was something that Izzy had heard Éibhear had taken very badly, for some reason blaming himself, but no one would ever tell Izzy exactly why. After a while she’d stopped asking because she had the feeling she didn’t really want to know why Éibhear would blame himself.

“Well,” Celyn finally went on, “my cousin was never quite the same.”

“He was impossible to train. Refused to listen.”

“Fought everyone. Éibhear was just angry.”

“So Grandfather sent him to the Mì-runach?” Izzy said, motioning for the bottle of ale from Brannie.

“I wasn’t surprised that Uncle Bercelak would send him,” Celyn noted. “But I was surprised the queen let him go.”

“Because it was Éibhear?”

“Because no dragon prince has ever been in the Mì-runach in any of its forms.”

“Its forms?”

Brannie shrugged. “The Mì-runach have been around nearly as long as dragon armies have. But they didn’t have an official name until Grandfather Ailean joined. Before that they were just, ‘Those crazy bastards that’ll kill for a pint and a whore.’”

“Lovely.”

Celyn laughed. “They’re a bit more organized now, but they’re still those crazy bastards. And I have to say that from what I’ve heard, Éibhear fits in perfectly.”

“The rumor is that the entire Ice Land sighed in relief when Éibhear the Contemptible finally left their territories.”

Izzy, deciding she didn’t want to drink anymore, pushed her half-filled mug away. “So then you don’t think the Mì-runach were forced to keep him away—”

“The Mì-runach kept him in the Ice Lands because that’s where they were needed these last few years. And I’m sure with his reputation and his skills in battle, no one in the Mì-runach would have been fine with Éibhear just flittin’ off to a family feast or for your sister’s birthday celebrations.”

“When you’re Mì-runach, they are your family. Only your mate matters more.” Brannie thought a moment. “If any of them actually ever have one.”

“So, his brothers ordering the Mì-runach to keep him in the Ice Lands for the last ten years . . . ?”

“It never happened.”

Izzy dropped back into her chair. “Then why the hells would they let him believe that they did?”

Celyn reached over and patted her hand. “Because your father and uncles are cruel bastards, luv. How could you not have figured that out by now?”

Izzy snatched her hand back. “Oh, shut up.”