What a Dragon Should Know (Dragon Kin #3)(64)

“Is that right?” Sigmar asked, putting down his spoon. “What do you know about him?”

“He’s the ruler of Spikenhammer and is an excellent warrior.”

“True enough. What else?”

“What else? Well, I know his mother is—”

“His mother? What do I care about his mother? I mean what about him? Which gods does he worship?”

“I don’t know. Who cares?”

“You should. What if he worships them gods that demand sacrifices? Human sacrifices,” he said before she could mention oxen or deer. “How does he handle crime in his city? What kind of executions does he run? Does he believe in torture? If so, what kind?”

Her mouth opened and closed several times, but she had no answers.

“That’s the difference between you two.” He looked at his sons, each of them eating heartily before they headed off for training. “Isn’t that right?”

They grunted agreements around their food.

“You don’t know those answers, girl, but she would. She sure as f**k wouldn’t come to me with some half-thought-out idea. She’d have already asked the questions and found the answers.” He slammed his finger into his temple several times. “ ’Cause she thinks that one does. Which is more than I can say about you.”

She looked at Sigmar’s oldest. “You going to let him talk to me that way?”

“Only if he’s right. And he’s right.”

“My lord.” One of the servants rushed in. He was the one Dagmar worked closest with, and he now handled many of her duties now that she was gone. He was smarter than most but feared Sigmar enough not to push anything. “Another missive from Lady Dagmar. It seems to be nearly three days old.”

“Read it,” Sigmar ordered him.

Opening the sealed parchment quickly he began, “ ‘Dearest Father. I hope this letter finds you well. I know I promised to be at Gestur’s by now, but there’s been another change of plan.’ ”

Sigmar sighed, leaning back in his seat. “Bloody ’ell.”

“A-ha!” His daughter-in-law said, but when they all stared at her, she simmered down.

“Go on,” Sigmar prompted.

“ ‘I am heading into the Southlands to meet with Queen Annwyl personally. I hope to get you at least one more legion. Perhaps two.’ ”

“Damn that girl.”

“Should we go after her?” his oldest asked, motioning to one of the serving girls for more food.

“A few weeks ago I would have said yes. But that monk, Ragnar, stopped by here two days ago and told me Jökull’s on the move. I’d feel better if I knew she was someplace else. Even with that”—he sneered—“weeper.”

“As would I,” his son agreed. “And hopefully she can work her way around the Mad Bitch of Garbhán Isle.”

“So you’re going to let her get away with disobeying you?” his daughter-in-law nearly screamed.

“Quiet!” He motioned to the servant holding the letter. “Finish it.”

“ ‘I know this is not what you wanted to hear from me, but I need you to trust that I’ll do what is best for our people.’ ” That Sigmar already knew. Of that he had no doubt and never would. “ ‘Please be safe and think before you act.’ ”

Sigmar and his sons laughed at that one as the servant continued to read.

“ ‘And Kikka has been having it off with the stablemaster. The Weeper and I watched her get used like a whore for nearly two hours. I am sorry I had to tell you this way, but I thought it was best you know. Yours … Dagmar.’ ”

The entire room had fallen silent, and everyone, even the servants, now gawked at his daughter-in-law.

“She’s lying!” she cried desperately.

But no one had any doubts to the truth of what Dagmar had written, and Sigmar knew both his daughter and daughter-in-law well enough to know that if he searched for proof, he’d find more than enough of it.

Such a foolish girl, Sigmar thought as he stood and picked up his favored battle ax. He’d leave his eldest to deal with that wife of his while he dealt with the stablemaster.

As he walked out into the courtyard, eleven of his sons behind him, he did have to chuckle and wonder, did that stupid girl really think she could take on The Beast—and win?

Chapter 17

“Dagmar!”

Dagmar instantly sat up, her eyes snapping open, and she yelled, “I am not lying!”

The big dragon beneath her sighed. “Wake up, ya dozy cow. We’re almost home.”

She yawned and stretched, rubbing her hands across her face before digging into her satchel for her spectacles. She’d stopped wearing them an hour into their return flight. Too many times the dragon had dipped or spun to the side in mid-flight, and Dagmar had realized that if she was holding onto the dragon’s mane within an inch of her life, she couldn’t be expected to make a wild grab for her spectacles as well.

Putting them on, making sure they fit properly behind her ears, she glanced around. “It’s beautiful,” she finally said. All lush greenery and thick-leafed trees.

“Yes. Nearly as beautiful as I am.”

With her hands tangled in his mane, Dagmar leaned over a bit and looked toward one of the many lakes covering the land. “What’s going on there?”