flying?”
“What?”
“Should we get horses or fly?”
“I’m not good with horses.”
“What do you mean you’re not good?”
“I mean, they get my scent and they bolt.” He shrugged. “I really like horse meat.” He gazed off. “I’m so hungry.”
Not having time for this, Rhona walked around him to head back to the others.
“So what’s the plan?” he asked.
“Plan?” Rhona faced him, shrugged. “Do what we’ve been doing, I guess. Get those two back to Garbhán Isle.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“We’re heading into a war zone, Sergeant. Possibly. According to your cousin, we’ll be caught between some pissed-off barbarian tribes and the Kyvich Witches. That is not a good place for anyone to be.” He stepped closer. “And if you think the Kyvich are going to let that foreigner traipse off with those children after they’ve committed to one of their gods to protect them at Garbhán Isle—”
“All right, all right.” Gods, he could ramble when provoked. “What do you suggest we do?”
“We need to find out what we’re looking at with these Western Tribes. Are they bringing one legion, two, a thousand? We should escort these two past the Dark Plains border and then go off on our own. Head toward the west and see how close this army is.”
“Okay,” Rhona agreed. “We’ll do that.”
He scowled at her, but she didn’t know why. “Or you can give me your opinion.”
“My opinion?”
“Opinion. Suggestion. Ideas.”
“Ideas?”
His scowl worsened. “You do have ideas, don’t you?”
“I do, but you outrank me so—”
“First off,” he angrily cut in, “don’t pull that ox shit with me. We’re not here with an army that needs to be controlled. It’s just you, me, a weakened foreigner, and a poison-and-torture-happy princess. We can’t afford for you to only take orders. I don’t know this terrain and I think we both know you don’t want your orders to come from Keita. So, Sergeant, we need to do this together—as a team. So I ask you again—what’s your opinion?”
Rhona knew Vigholf had a point, no matter how rudely that point was made. And although she was completely unused to giving her opinion—only Dragonwarriors had that luxury during battles and missions—she did as he’d asked.
“I think our job is to get Keita and Ren into Garbhán Isle safely. That alone will be hard enough. The Western Tribes, the Tribesmen, are riders and nomads used to moving quickly all year round. They’re not marching on Dark Plains, Commander. They’re racing there, hoping to take advantage of Annwyl’s absence. It’s too risky to send Keita and Ren off on their own. And once we get them to Dark Plains, those two can also deal with the Kyvich.”
The Lightning studied her for a long moment. Then he nodded. “You’re right.” She was? And he was admitting she was? “I didn’t know about the Western Tribes. My Horde has never fought them. So you’re right. We can’t let those two off on their own. At least in Garbhán Isle they’ll have some protection, and from what I remember of that territory, it will be easier to defend.” He looked around. “We keep moving. I can carry the foreigner if need be.”
Although Ren wasn’t a large dragon, especially compared to Rhona’s own kin, he would be no light burden for anyone. “And how long can you keep that up?”
Those clear grey eyes locked on her. “As long as I need to.”
“Oh.” She cleared her throat. “All right then.”
“Let’s get moving. There still may be Iron scouts out this far.”
And without another word said between them, they walked back to Keita and Ren.
Chapter 6
They ended up risking the skies when the first set of wild horses they came upon stampeded at the first scent of the Lightning. A moment that he could only shrug at and mutter, “Sorry.”
And although they made good time with only short breaks along the way, they were still forced to get some real sleep
Eloisa James
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