Page 14 of The Mountain King
Chapter Six
Shy.
Kailigh fumed over that word, but eventually her practicality reasserted itself. She wanted to send the girls with Maddugh and stay behind to defend her land.
“Are you mad?” he exclaimed, buttoning his black vest. He’d given her a long look before turning and trotting back into the forest, emerging a few moments later with a pack he must have dropped before attacking. “One lone woman against a troop of flesh traffickers? They will kill you—or take you.” His expression told her which he thought was worse. Kailigh’s teeth ground. Already he thought of them as his.
But she was adamant. “I was ready to abandon the place before they pulled this stunt. Now they can have it over my lifeless body.”
Maddugh’s hard expression didn’t change. “I think not, mistress. You have an oath to fulfill. I’ll send guards to protect your home.”
“I don’t want your guards. They owe me nothing.”
“They will owe you more than you think,” he replied, voice flat. “I’m not arguing with you.” His gaze flicked to Persia, who’d disappeared during the argument and now emerged from the side of the house with the donkey. “You’re already loaded? Good.” He paused, sniffing. “Is that ammunition?”
Kai ignored the incredulous tone and turned to give the packs a final going over.
“You packedammunitioninstead of clothing and hair brushes and… things?”
Serephone grinned, a rare, scary expression. She looked like a Mad Hatter rather than a twenty something young woman with fey eyes and a moody disposition.
Maddugh carried Cinvarra. Kailigh could tell Serephone didn’t like it, but in the end, it was Kailigh’s decision, and a practical one. The trek to his city was neither long nor short, but she and the girls had guns—he didn’t. Even if he couldn’t turn into a dragon while carrying the girl, Kailigh thought Cinvarra was best served directly under the Dwyrkin Lord’s protection. Serephone and Persia doubled on Horse, and Kai lead Donkey.
They’d taken a few precious minutes to bathe, change and groom the basement dirt out of Cin’s hair. Kailigh didn’t want her daughter, even unconscious, to suffer the indignity of appearing for the first time in a potential new home smelly and bedraggled. Her skin was rosy underneath its usual dusky hue, her breathing even and soft. Clearly, the girl was on the mend.
When they reached his home, the guard on the stone wall stared first at Maddugh, then at the three women, eyes slowly widening. Maddugh ignored him after giving a curt instruction. By the time they reached the hall, two other men were inside. One sat in Maddugh’s chair, head propped on his elegant fingers, the other lounged on a nearby wall, arms closed.
“Treats,” the man sitting in the chair exclaimed, straightening. His long pale hair contrasted against golden skin and pale eyes, glittering with mirth. His open white shirt and golden brown vest looked as if he couldn’t be bothered with buttons and the fitted black pants emphasized the elegant musculature of his thighs and calves. “So kind of you, Father. If I had knownthatwas where you were headed this afternoon…”
“Out of my seat, Hrutha,” Maddugh said. “You aren’t Lord yet.”
He sounded like any other father. Kailigh realized they had that in common—both the parents of adult, probably rebellious, children.
The male on the wall straightened. He wore his hair longer than most, almost to the small of his back, a braid on one side. Leaner than his father, and darker as if he spent considerable time in the sun, his eyes traveled between the women, brow rising. Unlike the other, his attire was modest, nearly severe. A long buttoned up black coat with a high collar so his hair nearly blended in. Broad shoulders, which must have been either a nightmare or a delight for his tailor—depending on the tailor’s point of view.
“Father, what have you done?”
Maddugh looked at him. “These women are under my protection. Do not insult them. Where is Nuaddan?”
“He went hunting this morning,” Hrutha said. “But you have quarried far more interesting prey.”
The dark one came forward, giving his brother an irritated look. “Why are they here, Father?”
“Look closely, Amnan,” he said. “Can’t you tell?”
Amnan studied Kailigh, green eyes flaring with a nascent light, pupils narrowing to slits before his attention shifted to Serephone. He stared at her, unsmiling. Serephone stared back, eyes narrowing. Kailigh touched the back of her daughter’s hand in warning.
“Dwyrkin,” he said. “Weak Dwyrkin.” Turning to his father, “You want them to choose mates.”
“Exactly.” Maddugh’s self-satisfied tone irritated her.
“You’re mad. Hrutha, talk some sense into him.” Then he paused, putting a hand to his brow. “Never mind—I don’t know what I was thinking.Youwould never talk sense into anyone.”
Hrutha smiled, and settled back into his father’s throne, flinging a leg over the side. “There will be a riot. Four sisters with Dwyrkin blood? This week should be fabulously entertaining,”
Kailigh scowled. “I’m their mother, boy. My eldest daughters, Serephone and Persia. The sleeping one is Cinvarra. And before there’s a riot, you put out that my girls can handle themselves with a blade and shotgun just fine—and their mother taught them.”
“Delightful,” Hrutha purred. “That will provide even better sport. You know, I prefer my women properly aged, like fine wine.”
