How to Drive a Dragon Crazy (Dragon Kin #6)(53)

“Find what you need?” Éibhear asked her from the doorway.

“I think so.” She held up a document. “Does this look right?”

He took the parchment from her and studied it. “Based on what you told me, it does. But Annwyl will never agree to this.”

“If anyone can talk her into it, it’s Bram.” Izzy dropped back into the chair. “But you’re probably right. She hates the Western Horsemen and their horse gods.” The nomadic tribes in the west had been the bane of Annwyl’s existence for many years. They were mostly slavers, raiding weak, poorly defended towns and kidnapping children and the weaker men and women to sell to the Sovereigns. Annwyl hated slavery of any kind, which made her an enemy of the Horsemen. A much hated enemy.

“They tried to kill the twins and Rhi when we were all away at war against the Iron dragons and Sovereigns,” Éibhear reminded her.

“True. And all those involved were wiped from this world by Annwyl’s sword and rage when she returned to Garbhán Isle.”

“I believe your axe was involved also.”

“Well, I was her squire. I couldn’t leave her to fight alone.”

“When do you ever?” He handed the parchment back to her. “Food’s ready.”

“Yeah, all right.” She looked at the other papers she’d set aside. “I think I’ll bring these as well.” She scooped them up and put them into her travel bag. “Just in case.”

Izzy followed Éibhear back to the hall, but she stopped and closed her eyes. “Gods . . . that smells wonderful.”

“I had to go with boar. There was no lamb.”

“I’m so hungry I don’t care.”

“No wine either. I looked everywhere.”

“Oh, I know where that is. He hides it.”

“Hides it? From who?”

When she stared at him, mouth open, he nodded. “Right, right. His own offspring.”

Izzy went to the closet buried deep in Bram’s library where he kept cases of wine and ale and pulled what looked the most interesting. When she returned, the food was on the table and a fire was going in the nearby pit. Éibhear had also put out plates and utensils, their chairs cattycorner from each other.

“Will this do?” she asked, figuring the royal would have a better understanding of wine and ale than she.

Éibhear took the two bottles from her and blew the dust off them. Then his eyes grew wide when he looked at the seal. “Gods, Izzy. This is my grandfather’s.”

“Ailean?”

“We can’t take these. It’s probably all Bram has.”

“You mean except for all those cases he has in the library closet?”

“He has cases of my grandfather’s ale?”

“Aye.”

“That stingy bastard. It never occurred to him to share?”

Izzy took the bottles back and placed them on the table. “Apparently not with you.”

“This isn’t to be wasted on the meal,” he said, moving the bottles away from the plates and moving a carafe of water closer.

“If it’s not for the meal, then what’s it for?”

Éibhear grinned. “Dessert.”

“Have you talked to Talwyn?”

Talaith watched her friend. Annwyl had been so quiet lately. Not like her. It wasn’t so much that she was a boisterous monarch. She wasn’t. But she wasn’t so quiet either. So removed. It was like she was waiting for the other boot to drop.

And maybe she was right to be feeling that way. Although Talaith had her own concerns with her child, the Kyvich weren’t one of them. As mortal enemies of her Nolwenn sisters since the beginning of time—at least that’s what she’d been told from birth—the Kyvich tolerated the presence of her daughter but didn’t engage her.

Although the last couple of years, the leader of the Kyvich squad would sometimes watch Rhi. Not as she watched Talwyn, with pure calculation. Instead, Talaith saw concern on the commander’s hard face. Which worsened as Rhi’s power became more and more obvious.

Ásta saw Rhi as a threat, of that Talaith was sure. Another reason why Talaith was beginning to think that sending her young daughter to the south might be the best answer for all.

“Talk to her about what?”

“About her relationship with that Kyvich bitch?”

“What is there to discuss? Ásta and the others are her protectors. Of course she’ll feel close to them. They were here when I wasn’t.”

“Don’t,” Talaith said, pointing a finger. “Don’t you dare go down that winding road, my friend. Sacrifices were made those years by us all—and for damn good reasons. So I won’t hear you put yourself down or elevate those cunts because of what you had to do to protect your children. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, yes, you do,” the Southland Queen said quickly, her lips twitching as she tried not to smile.

“Good, good. Now if you want, when Izzy gets back we can talk to them both together.”

“Gets back from where?”

“She went to Bram’s home to get some documents he forgot. That dragon would forget his head if it wasn’t attached.”

“She went to . . .” Annwyl snorted a little, looked off.