“Why did your cult send you here?” she asked him.

“You, whore, will burn in the pits of hell for what you have done here.”

“Was it just to cause fear in the Southlanders? Or do you look for something? Tell me and we make quick work of your death.”

“My god will find you. He will destroy you. He will destroy all you love. For his power is great!”

Kachka stopped listening and stepped away from the man, motioning to a joyful Zoya Kolesova.

The larger woman slammed her foot on the man’s chest, forcing him to the ground, the arrow in his back pushed until it broke. Then she stepped back, hefted her battle axe high above her head, and brought it down six times. The man was nothing but big chunks when she was finished.

Panting, she faced Kachka. “I like this, Kachka Shestakova.”

And, for the first time ever, Kachka grinned at Zoya Kolesova. “I can tell, comrade. I can tell.”

“Do we clean this up?” Marina asked.

“No,” Kachka said, walking back to the oversized Southlander horses they had been forced to take because they’d left their Outerplains mounts back in Brigida the Foul’s cave. “We leave them for the crows to dine on.”

“And us?”

“Us? We go find more to kill.”

“Yay!” Zoya Kolesova cheered. “I was hoping she’d say that!”

Kachka stopped, faced the others. “But first, we need to get better.”

Zoya looked around at the carnage. “You don’t think we did well here?”

“We were lucky. Caught them off guard. They weren’t expecting us. But word will spread and we’ll need to find a better way to fight.”

“She’s right,” Marina agreed. “There’s only seven of us. We’ll need to learn to be quieter. Faster. They should never know we’re coming.”

Yelena Khoruzhaya nodded. “Faster. Quieter. And maybe different weapons.” She nodded at her brother. “Bows are good. Javelins and spears also.”

Kachka re-sheathed her sword. “And we will only attack at night. We were very lucky today. We won’t be again.”

She looked over those who’d fought with her. Yes. She could make this work. She could make this team work. She just had to be smarter than their enemies. For the first time, Kachka was in charge. Out here, roaming these lands, there was no one above her, no one to report to, no one to watch her back except the six tribesmen she was looking at.

“Come,” Kachka ordered, again heading to the horses. “We have much to do, comrades.”

Servants led them to a large dining table covered in fresh fruits and vegetables, warm bread, and succulent meats.

Brannie only had a moment to think, My, that looks good . . . before she realized that the Mì-runach had already hunkered down so they could feed.

“Like wild animals,” she muttered as she took the only open seat, by Aidan the Divine.

He grinned at her around a mouthful of turkey leg, which caused Brannie to reply, “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything!” he said on a laugh.

“You were thinking at me.”

The Rebel King and his sister entered the dining hall from the back. As they approached the table, Brannie quickly realized that they were staring at her. She just didn’t know why.

The pair grabbed two chairs and pulled them up beside Brannie. The king at the head of the table, his sister on her other side, almost between her and Aidan.

When neither said anything, Brannie asked, “Is there something you . . . need, King Gaius?”

“Loaded question,” Aidan leaned over to whisper. So she punched him in the thigh to shut him up.

“Ow! Vicious harpy!”

“Is there a chance,” the king’s sister began, “that you and your”—she glanced at the dragons eating heartily of her people’s food—“friends can stay at my brother’s side for a bit longer?”

“Here? Don’t you have guards for that?”

“Not as guards. Protection, yes, but he’ll be going out to . . .” The king’s sister glanced up, thinking, before finishing with, “handle something. Important to the Empire. And it would be wonderful if you lot could go with him.”

Brannie looked back and forth between the king and his sister. The king smiled, but she didn’t trust that smile. Then again, his sister wasn’t much better. She raised her eyebrows, which appeared just as untrustworthy, so Brannie returned her gaze to the king.

That’s when he offered, “You’ll get to kill things.”

“Ooooh,” Aidan said near her ear. “Now doesn’t that sound lovely? Let’s do it.”

Brannie brought her fist back and popped the chatty bastard in the face.

“Owwww! Heartless wench!”

“We were just supposed to bring King Gaius here,” Brannie reminded the twins. “Nothing about helping either one of you. I’ll have to get special permission for that.”

“We’re tight on time,” the king’s sister said. “Do you know how long this will—”

Brannie, closing her eyes, cut the Iron royal off with one raised finger.

Mum?

Yeah?

It’s Brannie. King Gaius wants me and the Mì-runach idiots to stay and kill stuff for him. I said I had to check in with you first, though.

Yeah. All right. Just be careful.

Yeah. Will do. Brannie opened her eyes and nodded at the Rebel King. “Me Mum says, ‘Yeah, all right.’”

“Oh,” the king said, glancing at his sister. “Well then . . . excellent. We’ll get started in a day or two. But, for now, relax and enjoy your time here.”

The twins left after that and servants returned with more food and what Brannie would guess was the better wine.

“That was smoothly handled.” Aidan nodded.

“Shut up.”

Laughing, “I was giving you a compliment!”

“Shut up anyway.”

As soon as the suns rose in the sky, Annwyl slid out of bed, leaving her mate asleep. She quickly dressed, grabbed her weapons, and headed out to get some training in. The Rebel King was gone. Kachka and her Riders were gone. Rhi was off with Izzy somewhere. Her son had gone to Bram’s castle to meet with his Uncle Bram and cousin Var.

Everything was now back to normal, which meant she had to get back to work.

As she crossed the courtyard, she knew someone was walking behind her.

Annwyl had her swords pulled and pressed against the follower’s throat before she realized it was her daughter.

“Do not,” she snarled, “sneak up on me, Talwyn!”

“I wasn’t. I was walking.”

“Behind me. You know I hate that.” Annwyl lowered her weapons. “What is it? What do you want?”

Talwyn shrugged her shoulders, glanced off, shuffled her feet.

Annwyl had never seen her daughter appear awkward before. It was disconcerting. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

“Well, I just thought . . . ya know.”

“That is not a full and complete sentence,” Annwyl informed her daughter. “I know we taught you better.”

Talwyn took in a breath and Annwyl debated backing away from her. Was she planning to attack her again? Annwyl didn’t know.