The Dragon Who Loved Me. G.A. Aiken

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СКАЧАТЬ front claws curled into fists. “I don’t need you to teach me how to use a sword.”

      “You shouldn’t use one unless you know how.”

      “I know how.”

      “Then why were you still using a spear?”

      “Because I like them. Because my father made it for me. And why am I discussing this with you?”

      She took another step and he stepped with her.

      “What about an ax?” he asked. “A small one. With a weight you can handle.”

      And that’s when Rhona became a little cranky.

      Gods, she was such a pretty little She-dragon. A bit scarred for his usual tastes but still . . . very pretty. He’d thought so from the beginning, from the first time he’d seen her all those years ago. A brown-scaled She-dragon with shoulder-length brown hair that she kept in simple warrior braids, and dark brown eyes that were bright and lively—when they weren’t glaring at him. Something that had become rare these days. She seemed to always be glaring at him. He could only imagine it was the strain of the war on her. She was a Southlander and a female, after all. Northlanders knew nothing but war, so five years in battle was no real strain for them.

      Although she wasn’t just some Southland She-dragon, was she? She was a Cadwaladr. They bred nothing but unstable females from that bloodline. But Rhona wasn’t much like the others. She’d kill, but it didn’t seem as if she enjoyed it too much. Not like Rhona’s mother, who only smiled when she was sawing someone’s head off. No. Rhona the Fearless was different, so Vigholf had taken it upon himself to keep an eye on her. A sweet thing like her could easily fall prey to the more forceful of his brethren, which was why he’d warned them off. Strongly. And it’s not like he followed her around or anything. Just . . . watched out for her.

      Although it seemed sometimes that the biggest problem in Rhona’s life was that mother of hers.

      Vigholf nearly shuddered at the thought of that particular female—if you could call her that. Yet she had mostly pleasant offspring. Rhona, the triplets, and a few of her other daughters and sons. Then again, Vigholf had heard that Rhona had raised the lot of them, which explained much in his estimation.

      “I don’t need an ax,” Rhona snarled between clenched teeth.

      “There’s nothing to be afraid of. They’re easy enough weapons to handle.”

      “I know how to handle an ax, foreigner. I don’t need lessons from you. Why don’t you just accept the fact that you destroyed a beloved weapon because you have so little control of that warhammer of yours.”

      “I have absolute control of my hammer, thank you very much. But once it’s moving, it’s not always easy to stop, my lady.” He grinned, feeling cheeky. “I can say that about all my hammers, in fact.”

      “First off, ew. And second, I ain’t a lady. I’m a Cadwaladr and a sergeant of Her Majesty’s Army. You want to deal with a royal, go see my cousin Keita. She couldn’t be more royal.”

      She stepped around him and he turned to follow, but her tail suddenly lashed out, aiming for his eye. Vigholf stumbled back and Rhona, glaring over her shoulder at him, snapped, “And stop following me around.”

      “I wasn’t. Just . . . keeping an eye on you. These caves can be dangerous.”

      “The day a She-dragon can’t move around a cave as she likes is the day she should climb onto the funeral pyre.”

      “Or you could just have an escort.”

      Her brown eyes nearly rolled to the back of her head, but before she could say another word, they both heard her name.

      “What?” she yelled over him.

      One of her sisters, he didn’t know which, appeared in the cave exit. “They’re at it again.”

      Rhona’s snarl was so vicious that Vigholf briefly thought about moving out of her way. He didn’t, but it crossed his mind.

      “By the unholy gods of piss and fire, I’ll kill them both!” she nearly yelled. “And if not them . . . I’ll kill her. Then maybe this centaur shit can end!”

      Shoving past him, Rhona marched off in the direction her sister had motioned to, leaving Vigholf simply standing there. Instead of following her, he kept on the way she’d been going. After a few minutes, he came to the underground waterfall. This had been where she’d been going. The female did like her bath times. But, as always, the needs of others had gotten in her way. Unfortunate, really.

      Rhona stormed through the chambers and caverns where the lower-ranking dragons resided when they weren’t out on the field.

      And, as Rhona’s sister had said, her cousins were “at it again” while the rest of the young recruits stood in a circle around them, passing coin, taking bets, and cheering their favorite.

      Seething and absolutely fed up with all of this, Rhona pushed past the troops and grabbed the wings of both males. With strength born of raising her siblings, Rhona yanked the pair apart, then slammed them back together again. Their hard heads collided and they stumbled around in stunned confusion.

      “That is enough!” she bellowed, shoving them into the crowd surrounding them. “I am tired of this centaur shit!”

      “He started—”

      “You started—”

      Rhona unleashed her flame, first at one, sending him careering into the wall, and then the other, forcing him to roll across the cave floor.

      “I said that is enough! ”

      She leveled her gaze at the other recruits. “Out! All of you!”

      And the lot scrambled out of there as if the gods of death ran behind them.

      Once they were alone, Rhona said, “I don’t believe you two. Five years I’ve put up with this shit. Five years I’ve watched you two go at it like pit dogs!” She shook her head. “That brat’s pussy must be mighty for all this!”

      Éibhear the Blue, her royal cousin and youngest of Her Majesty’s offspring, stood to his lofty height. “Rhona! That’s my—”

      “If you say niece, I will rip your lips off! Because, you twat, we both know the real problem here is that Izzy the Dangerous is not your niece. She’s merely the whore who’s gotten between cousins!”

      Her not even remotely royal cousin Celyn the Black suddenly grew balls, and stood tall before her. “Don’t you dare talk about Izzy that way. If this is anyone’s fault—it’s his!” Celyn pointed an accusing talon at his cousin. “That overreacting harpy!”

      “You took advantage!”

      “That’s a lie!”

      “Shut it!”

      Both males snarled and looked away from each other.

      All this over a woman. Not a She-dragon but a human female. The adopted daughter СКАЧАТЬ