They all could see it. All knew what it was. The mark of Rhydderch Hael. Izzy was to be his champion one day. His warrior.

“I did what I had to do,” she said, trying to sound braver than she really felt. She didn’t even realize she’d begun to cry until she felt the tears slide down her neck.

“For him?” Her mother still had hold of Izzy’s arm and she shook her hard. “You did this for him?”

“I did this for you!” she yelled back, feeling hurt and angry and so very stupid. “He wouldn’t bring you back unless I became his champion. So I agreed. And I’d do it again!”

The sound of her mother’s palm colliding with her face echoed around the Great Hall.

Briec stepped between them, grabbing Talaith’s arms and pushing her back.

Izzy rested her hand against her cheek, but the pain she felt was nothing compared to the pain she knew she’d caused her mother.

Talaith yanked her arms away from Briec and stared at Izzy.

“You idiot child.” Her voice was so cold. “You don’t just hand your life over to someone to save another.”

“You did for me.”

“I’m your mother. I can do any damn thing I want.”

“But I—”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Talaith walked away from her, stopping as she neared one of the back hallways. “I’ve been fighting all this time to protect you and all this time he’s had you anyway.”

“Mum, please!”

“Tell Brastias he can have her. He can send her wherever he wants, train her to be whatever he or her precious god wants. I no longer care.”

Without looking at Izzy again, Talaith stalked out.

Tears poured now, her sobs hurting her chest. She felt her father’s arms go around her, but she didn’t want that. She didn’t want anything but to be left alone. She pulled away from him and ran, her Dragon Kin calling for her. She ignored them all and charged past the open gates.

* * *

Briec stood in the massive doorway of the Great Hall and debated.

Go after the hysterical daughter who’d given up her life to protect her mother or go after the devastated mother who’d given up her life to protect her daughter?

Dammit! His existence was much easier when he only had to worry about what to kill for dinner.

“Leave them be,” Rhiannon said behind him. “They’ll work it out.”

“Like you and Keita?”

“She’s breathing, isn’t she? Besides Morfyd said she’s gone back to her den, so she’s fine. And your Talaith and Izzy will be fine. They just need to work this out.”

“But when they’re unhappy, I’m unhappy.” He looked over his shoulder at his parents and siblings. “And that’s unacceptable to me.”

Éibhear let out a disgusted groan. “What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

“My Lord Briec.”

Frowning at the title usage, Briec faced Brastias. “General. You’ve brought a friend.”

Brastias glanced at the cloaked male behind him. “This is Lord Ragnar. He said your mother told him he could come to meet with her. Apparently he’s from the Northlands.”

“Aye, I can smell the difference.”

The Lightning pulled the hood of his cloak back and grinned at Briec, not appearing remotely offended. “Good morning to you, Fire Breather.”

“Lightning.” Briec glanced at his kin. “Mother, our mortal enemy is here for tea and biscuits.”

* * *

Dagmar escaped talks of weapons and Minotaurs in Fearghus’s den by simply walking away and leaving the cave.

It was a beautiful day with the two suns shining brightly overhead. Yet a cooling breeze coming in from the east kept her from sweating, which she appreciated.

She strolled aimlessly among the thick foliage of Dark Glen, enjoying the quiet and the freedom.

“That dress looks very nice on you.”

Dagmar stopped and examined the dress Annwyl had found for her among Fearghus’s treasure. It was a simple frock with long sleeves and a neckline just below her collarbone, so she didn’t feel choked but she didn’t feel like a whore either. It was also grey, which pleased her the most. She had no desire to wear bright colors and was glad the queen hadn’t asked her to.

“Thank you.” Lifting her head she looked up at the top of a big boulder. The goddess sat on it casually, one arm resting on her raised knee. She wore no cape today and her padded shirt this time was sleeveless. The brown skin of her arms was covered in dragon brands, rune tattoos, and scars. She looked decidedly larger this time. Taller and wider.

“Hello, Eir,” she said. “It’s good to see you again.”

“And you, my friend.”

Eir’s wolf companion pressed against Dagmar’s side until she stroked his rough fur. “And you must be …” she thought back to her knowledge of the different pantheons. “Nannulf, Battle Guardian of war dogs!”

“That’s very good,” Eir commended. “We have been friends a very long time, he and I.” Eirianwen, one of the most feared and violent goddesses in the known world, slid down the boulder and dropped to the ground beside Dagmar. “He’s always liked you. Likes the way you train your dogs. You miss them, don’t you?”

“Very much.”

“And they you. Of course, you can breed and raise dogs anywhere. Annwyl, she has no battle dogs. Not any real ones. Just blokes bringing their own pets with them into battle.”