Celyn stopped walking and faced her. He was about to explain to her how insulting she was being when something about her struck him and he guessed, “You didn’t want to do this . . . did you?”
She quickly looked away from his question before finally saying, “Does that matter? I was given task and I failed task. I failed tribe. Do your worst to me.”
Rolling his eyes, “Lady Misery, get off the pyre. . . . We need the wood.”
“What do you mean?” she asked as they headed down the street.
“It means stop feeling sorry for yourself. Clearly someone sent you here to die. That should make you angry. I’d be angry.”
“First, dragon, I do not feel sorry for myself. I failed and if I must die for that failure—so be it. That is the way of things. And second,” she continued, getting testy, “do not act like you are better than us.” He thought she meant dragons versus humans, but no. That wasn’t what she meant. “You are lazy, decadent Southlanders, living off the poor as only imperialist scum can do. And,” she went on, pointing a finger, “I know you think I am weak because I am woman. But I am Daughter of Steppes. Not some needy, useless Southland female begging for man to take care of her. I can at least say I am stronger than that.”
Celyn laughed. “Aye. That’s definitely the problem. Southland females are so very weak. All I know are weak females. Oh, how they disgust me! The weak Southland females.”
“What I thought,” she sniffed.
The black dragon pulled her into the city jail. Her people didn’t have “jails” or prisons. It didn’t make sense to keep someone around or alive once tribe law was broken. So they never did. But the Southlanders were big believers in prisons . . . and dungeons.
Elina felt confident that prison was preferable to a dungeon. She didn’t like the idea of being placed in an underground cage. It would be too much like being buried alive.
The dragon stopped in front of a poorly made wooden desk. The large man behind it got to his stubby legs, the keys at his side clanking.
“My lord,” the man said, nodding at the dragon.
“Constable. I need to stow this woman here.”
“Here?” He glanced around. “Is she guilty of something?”
“Besides wearing on my nerves . . . yes. But you will not mention her presence to anyone. Especially Lord Fearghus or Briec. Understand?”
“Well . . . ?”
“Understand?”
“Aye.”
“Good. You’ll keep her here and you’ll keep her safe. I’m sure you understand what I mean.”
“Yes. Of course, my lord.”
“Good.” He placed his hand against Elina’s back and shoved her toward the constable. “Someone,” he muttered to Elina, “will be around to move you at some point.”
Elina turned to ask when that might be, but only managed to catch a glimpse of the dragon and his long, black hair disappearing out the door. And she had the uneasy feeling she’d never see him again.
“This way, miss,” the constable said kindly.
With a sigh, Elina followed the constable until they reached a cell. He unlocked the door and Elina stepped inside.
It wasn’t much of a cell, with only a small bed, a desk, a weak-looking chair, and a chamber pot. But there was a window with bars, and the room appeared mostly vermin-free. And since Elina normally lived in a tent with eight of her sisters . . . this was actually better than what she was used to.
Sitting on the bed, Elina looked up at the constable, nodded. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” He glanced around. “Is there anything you may need? Something to read, perhaps?”
“That would be nice.”
“All right. And you just let me know if there’s something else.”
He walked out, closing the door, but only until it just touched the frame. He didn’t close it all the way. Maybe he was hoping Elina would make a run for it. But a run for where? Back to the mountains of the Outerplains so her tribe could look upon her in disgust and disappointment? Since she’d been seeing that expression for most of her life from most of her tribe except one sister, Kachka, it would be kind of nice to have a break from it for a little while. Besides . . . how long before these Southlanders sent her on her way? Not long, she was sure.
So Elina settled on her bunk, her back against the wall, and she thought about taking a nap.
Chapter Two
JOURNAL ENTRY
Season of the Goddess 195,202
They rode up to our blessed temple at midday. Led by the City Guard, the pair rode on two enormous war horses. Even if they were not riding into battle, those horses were desperately needed. Especially for the male. I’d heard he was not human, but a dragon in its human form. It showed. He was so huge! Then again, so was this woman. Not as large as the male but large. Muscular. Maybe even a little, dare I say . . . manly?
I watched as the group of six walked up the many stairs to our main doors. The dragon was pale as any Northman. So very white with actual blue hair. The woman with him was clearly a descendant of our Desert Lands, but she still didn’t seem to belong here.
They reached the top step and the City Guard commander gave a small bow. “Good day to you, Sister. We’re here to see Elder Elisa.”
“Elder Elisa is unavailable, but Elder Haldane is waiting for you inside,” I said.
The warrior woman rolled light brown eyes and without even looking, the dragon growled at her, “Stop it.”
“It’s not like they didn’t know we were coming to see Rhian,” she snapped back.
“Stop. It.”
The City Guard smirked behind her helmet with the nose guard. “Please, lead the way, Sister.”
So I did. And quickly! I did not want this warrior woman any more upset than she already was.
Dressed as any hardened warrior in chain mail from head to foot, weapons of all kinds attached to the belt around her waist and across her back, she was clearly not a person one should challenge.
Luckily, Elder Haldane waited for us not too far in. I was so relieved to see her! But I could tell by the look on her face she was in one of her less-than-cooperative moods. I wanted to shake her. “Just give them what they want!” I wanted to scream.
We stopped in front of Elder Haldane, but before I could properly introduce everyone, the warrior woman threw her arms open and exclaimed, “Grandmother!” Then she hugged Elder Haldane! Hugged her! And I knew she was doing it on purpose. Simply to irritate the one woman who could turn the pair into the bears they both resembled.
“Get off me!” Elder Haldane finally snapped, pushing the warrior woman away.
“You’ve missed me, haven’t you?” the woman taunted, grinning. Oh, goddess, she was clearly enjoying her little “joke” on Elder Haldane. Nearly as much as Haldane was not enjoying this joke.
“They are here to see Sister Rhianwen,” I quickly explained, hoping to keep this all as civil as possible.
“Perhaps another time,” Elder Haldane said, sounding bored and put-upon. “We’re quite busy here with the winter solstice coming up. I’m sure you understand.”
But as I watched, the warrior woman’s face slowly stopped smiling and such a dark look came over her that I, along with everyone else, knew she did not in any