As leader of the Dark Mountain Tribes, he would always get the best of what his people had. But as the ruler of the strongest and most brutal tribes on the Steppes, a leader not afraid to take that which the Empress believed belonged to her, he could really enjoy his time in this world.
This evening, he was planning a good night, knowing he had some new concubines to break in.
So the last thing he wanted to deal with was one of his men running into his tent and babbling about some royal they’d found in the Hidden Woods, near their tribal lands.
“What are you going on about?” Batu demanded.
“We have a royal and—”
“So? Put her in chains and I’ll go to see her tomorrow.”
“She’s demanding to see you now.”
Batu grabbed the soft hand rubbing his chest and pushed it away.
“She . . . what?” Slowly Batu stood, his entire body shaking in rage. “What?” he bellowed, his concubines scrambling to a far corner. The musician joined them.
“Great Leader,” the soldier groveled, dropping to his knees. “I only bring the message from the royal. She is—”
“Where is she?”
“With Bolormaa, Great Leader.”
Batu stormed across his tent, stepping on the soldier’s back as he did so. He went outside and walked toward Bolormaa’s tent, which was not far from his. She was the best shamaness in his tribe so he kept her close in case he needed her after a battle.
When he flipped the tent flap back, Bolormaa and her assistants were busy working on a large woman with black hair and the look of a Southlander from the west.
“Are you Batu?” a small, red-haired woman asked. She also looked like a Southlander . . . and acted like a royal.
“I—”
“Good,” she snapped, grabbing his arm and yanking him outside.
“Lady Keita,” she said by way of introduction. “That’s my cousin in there. She’s been poisoned and your shaman is helping me. Once I know she’s stable, I’ll be by to talk.”
“Uh—”
She was gone. Back into the tent.
Angry, Batu began to follow, but he stopped. Something about that female . . .
Deciding to be smart rather than angry, Batu motioned to one of the soldiers.
“Keep your eye on her and bring her to me when she’s done.”
He returned to his tent but sent the concubines and musician away. He then sent for Nergi the Knowing. If anyone would know who this royal was, it was Nergi.
* * *
Armed warriors were located behind them and in front of them. Some were human. Others were dragons in human form.
The general and his soldiers had been polite and friendly to Aidan and his brothers. But they did question the presence of the Riders. It wasn’t until Aidan convinced them that they were from the Outerplains and not associated with the Eastland Riders that the Empress’s soldiers backed off.
With great charm, the general offered the services of his army to escort them to the Empress as “favored guests.”
Aidan, of course, agreed for all of them, knowing that he didn’t want this army out searching for Brannie and Keita. They needed time to make it out. Wherever “out” might be.
It was really the best Aidan could do at the moment.
But Aidan was no fool.
Meihui might have sent them off with a smile, but she’d also brushed her hand against Aidan’s when he was walking away and he took it as the warning it was meant to be.
Because on the surface this all might appear normal. A royal caravan.
But they were actually pampered prisoners and all of them knew it.
As they moved through the countryside, Aidan did marvel at the surrounding lands. The Southlands near Garbhán Isle had always been his favorite, but the Empress’s territory rivaled his home.
Behind them loomed snow-capped mountains. The home of many dragons that refused to spend much time among humans.
The road they took led them through thick, multicolored forests. Trees of red, gold, and vibrant green. Along the way, they went through smaller forests with vast plains mixed in. And those plains had grass so green they seemed to be painted.
By the next morning, they reached massive gold gates connected to massive gold walls that surrounded the Empress’s palace and lands. They waited while the gates were pulled open, allowing their entourage to pass through and into the Empress’s true domain.
The first thing that greeted them were flowers. Rows and rows of all kinds of beautiful flowers in a variety of stunning colors.
The road that passed by these flowers was wide enough for a small army to come through without going near the Empress’s garden, and Aidan wasn’t exactly surprised. The dragoness clearly loved her flowers.
As they approached, Aidan could see the palace he’d heard so much about over the years. It, too, was made completely of gold and he could see Eastland dragons circling the top tiers of the palace, as well as open terraces where a large number of Eastland dragons were sitting around, chatting, and enjoying the morning suns.
“Now what?” Uther muttered next to him.
“What are you talking about?”
“Now that we’re here . . . what are we going to do?”
“Oh.” Aidan shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well,” Uther said, throwing up his hands, “this is just great!”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The screaming filled the castle walls, but Vateria didn’t mind. She knew it was leading to better, more important things.
Besides, the sound reminded her of the old days when her father ruled the Quintilian Provinces. She missed those days, when she had slaves and the complete run of her father’s home. But those days were gone and she was here . . . doing needlepoint.
It still galled her this was her life now, but not for much longer.
Soon, she’d rule more than just what her father had had. She’d rule more than what anyone had.
But first, a few things needed to happen.
Outside, in the territory surrounding her current home, the Abominations and their armies had built fortifications that prevented any of them from leaving and anyone from getting in.
They believed they were trapping Vateria and her people in this place and that they would launch one final attack.
A good plan . . . if Vateria was anyone else. But she had the backing of Chramnesind and even now, he was giving her a mighty weapon.
More screaming filled the entire castle and Vateria smiled, allowing the sound to wash over her while she continued her needlepoint.
“My lady?” a priestess interrupted, standing beside Vateria’s chair in the Main Hall. This one gazed at Vateria out of empty eye sockets. Her god had never asked Vateria to make such a sacrifice. Instead of taking from her, he’d continued to give and give and give, which only told her what she already knew. She was more important than any of these little witches who had to prove their loyalty. Vateria didn’t have to prove anything to Chramnesind. He already knew what she wanted and what she was willing to give to get it.
“What is it?” Vateria asked, still working. Much easier than looking into that scarred face.
“Things below are getting . . . complicated.”
“And?”
“We’re afraid he’ll die.”
Vateria snorted. “Our god will not allow him to die. Keep going.”
“But the pain—”
“Is not my concern. Nor yours. Keep going.”
“But—”
Vateria lowered the needlepoint into her lap and gestured with her hand toward the stone walls in the Main Hall. “As you bicker with me over this, our enemies are completing their plans to destroy us. We don’t have time for you to be concerned.”
“I understand what you’re saying, but I must insist—”
“Insist? With me?” Vateria fr
owned, confused. “Really?”
“It’s just—”
“Yes, yes, I know. He’s suffering and you’re afraid he’ll die and our plans will be ruined. But I assure you . . . he won’t die. So keep going. This isn’t a punishment. This is a gift from our god. Embrace it.”
The priestess sighed. “Yes, my lady.” She started to return to the others when another long, pained scream rang out. The woman faltered and she stood there a moment, unsure what to do next, before she came to the realization there was nothing to do but follow Vateria’s orders.
Vateria already knew how much it annoyed the priests and priestesses that “Ageltrude”—the human wife of Salebiri whom they all still believed Vateria to be—had so much control and power here. Especially when it was obvious she hadn’t sacrificed a damn thing. But none of them bothered to challenge her, which was disappointing. Vateria used to adore putting others in their place when she’d ruled by her father’s side, but she expected all that to happen again once this war was over and she was reigning supreme.
And to be honest, she could barely wait. Because none of these beings, dragon or human, knew what true suffering was. But Vateria would be more than happy to teach them.
She’d teach them all.
Chapter Thirty
Keita walked into the tribal leader’s tent, briefly turning to slap off the hands trying to stop her.
“Go away!” she snapped at one of the soldiers.
“But—” one tried to argue.
Waving her hands, she shooed them from the tent and turned to face the sleeping Batu the Iron Hearted.
Stepping over pillows, silk bedding, and naked female asses, Keita stopped by the man’s side.
She tapped at him with the side of her foot. When that didn’t wake him, she yelled, “Oy!”
Batu’s head jerked up, his black-and-blond braids covering his face and beard. “What . . . what’s happening?”
“We need to talk. Mind getting rid of your whores?”
Keita walked over to a small table that had a chalice and a decanter. She sniffed the liquid inside the decanter, decided it smelled tolerable, and poured herself a chalice-full.
Sipping what turned out to be a very nice wine, Keita watched Batu get to his feet. He wasn’t as tall as she expected, but he was frighteningly broad. Although she had a few cousins who were weirdly wide like that.
“Everyone out!” he bellowed, standing in the middle of all those silk pillows. It was sort of ridiculous, but the way everyone ran for their lives . . .
Glaring at Keita, he pointed his finger. “And you—”
“Look,” she cut in, “normally, I’d let you swagger all over the place. Let you beat your chest and be very manly before I use my skills to turn you into my puppet.”
“I am puppet for no woman.”
“Then I would have killed you.” She smiled. “Because that’s what I do and I do it well. But I’m not doing that because I am very short on time. I mean, things changed when I realized who exactly was trying to kill me. And it isn’t the Empress, which is surprising because I was absolutely going to kill her.”
Batu leaned in. “Go away, crazed female.”
“Batu—”
“Great Leader.”
Keita laughed and patted his shoulder. “Yeah, right. Anyway, Batu, I’ve decided that we can work together. Get what we both want.”
“I want nothing from you. I don’t even want to kidnap you for ransom. I want you to go away.”
“That is not going to happen when I have a great opportunity for you.”
“I do not want your opportunity.”
“Of course you do.”
“I do not.”
“Why are you arguing with me? You know I’m right.”
“I know I want you to go away.”
Keita rolled her eyes. “Now you sound like my mother.”
“Even your mother does not want you.”
Laughing, Keita slung her arm around Batu. “You are so adorable. I think we’ll work well together.”
“Why? Why will you not go? Most flee from me. In terror.”
“Isn’t it the best when people flee from you in terror? I know, I’ve always loved it. And that’s how I got my name Keita the Viper! But I do try not to abuse my ability to terrorize others. That seems wrong . . . somehow.” She stepped away from him. “Now, why don’t you get dressed and meet me in Bolormaa’s tent. My cousin should be waking up soon.”
Keita started to walk out but stopped, and kissed Batu on the cheek.
“You and I are going to be such good friends.”
* * *
Batu put on his clothes and his weapons and walked out of his tent just as Nergi the Knowing was about to walk in.
The older tribesman bowed before Batu. “Great Leader—”
“Stop bowing and just tell me what you found out. I have to go meet that crazed bitch in Bolormaa’s tent and I need something to help me manage her.”
“I’ve found a long list of many Lady Keitas, but without a family name or—”
“Wait.” Batu thought a moment. “She said her name was Keita the . . . the . . . Viper. Yes! Keita the Viper. Does that help you?”
Nergi stepped back. “Are you sure, Great—”
“Of course, I am sure. Why?”
“Then she is no lady, Great Leader. She is a She-dragon.”
“So? We’ve had dealings with the dragons before, Nergi.”
“We have had dealings with dragons from our lands. She is not an Eastland dragon . . . and Keita the Viper is not her entire name.”
“Her entire name?”
“Her entire name, Great Leader, is Keita the Red Viper Dragon of Despair and Death. She has destroyed whole towns. She has eaten people. She is a princess and the daughter of Rhiannon the White, the Dragon Queen. And if Rhiannon is her mother, Great Leader—”
“Then,” Batu finished for Nergi, “she is a Southland dragon.”
“Yes. And that means this entire region is in great danger.”
* * *
The steps leading up to the palace seemed never-ending.
Why all the steps? Was it because the Eastland dragons thought that humans would just give up halfway and they’d never have to see them?
It made sense, when Aidan analyzed it. That’s why Rhiannon’s throne was in the highest mountain in the Southland area. So that she and her predecessors never had to deal with random visits from humans.
“I’m tired,” Caswyn complained.
“Keep walking. We’re almost there.”
“Come, dragons!” Zoya Kolesova cheered as she jogged by them. “You are not so weak you cannot get up little stairs, are you?”
“Can we beat her to death?” Caswyn asked, watching Zoya easily reach the top without any real effort.
“Yes,” Kachka and Nina said together as they passed Aidan and his brothers.
When Aidan finally reached the last step, Zoya had her hands on her hips and was looking up at the palace.
“So much decadence,” she observed. “I never thought I’d know others more decadent than Southlanders, but I was wrong. Look at all this! Their people starve while they live in gold house.”
Trying not to pant, Aidan reminded Zoya, “We don’t know that their people are starving, Zoya. And shut up.”
The Empress’s army had stayed at the bottom of the stairs, but the general was waiting for them.
“The Empress and her court are expecting you,” he said with a sweeping arm.
A loud gong sounded somewhere and the tall, gold doors were pushed open by burly servants.
“Such imperialist scum!” Zoya cheered. “I cannot wait to meet them!”
“I told you we should have cut her throat so she could not speak,” Nina grumbled.
Aidan scratched his head and took a second to get his breath back. That’s when he realized that no one was moving and they were all staring at him.
“What?” he asked.
?
??Well,” Uther said, pointing to the open palace doors, “go on.”
“Wait . . . you want me to go in first? Why? I’m not in charge.”
“With Keita and Branwen gone, of course you are in charge, dragon,” Kachka explained. “You cannot send Zoya. She will call them all imperialist, decadent scum.”
“I will!” Zoya said proudly.
“I cannot do it,” Kachka went on, “because I will also call them imperialist, decadent scum. Nina is just disturbing and untrustworthy.”
“It is true,” Nina replied blandly. “But I like that about myself.”
“And these two”—Kachka gestured to Uther and Caswyn with a jerk of her head—“are idiots.”
“She’s right,” Uther agreed. “We are idiots. You go.”
Growling, but knowing they were all right, Aidan walked in first, and the rest of them followed.
But he had barely stepped inside before he had to stop, gawking at the beauty and, as Zoya had accused, the decadence.
So much decadence.
He didn’t know anyone lived this way, dragons or otherwise.
The entire building was made out of gold and copper. The throne at the very end of the main hall was made out of gold and covered in massive jewels. He had expected the palace to be large, but he’d never known how large it would be. Big enough that dragons Éibhear’s size could be in their natural form and not smash their heads on the ceilings. And based on the design of those ceilings, the other floors were strong enough that dragons could stand without worrying they’d crash through and kill whomever was beneath.
“So much . . . everything,” he whispered.
“You’d lose your soul here, dragon,” Kachka said, patting him on the back. “And those who lose their souls, I and my comrades eventually come to kill.” She winked at him and pushed him forward. “Go now, Aidan the Divine. And introduce us to this Empress of decadence.”
* * *
The counterattack from the Zealots started before dawn.
They sent human fodder to ride directly toward them, screaming out their assault and easily picked off by the archers while Zealots on foot snuck in and cut the throats of still-sleeping soldiers.
But they didn’t have the upper hand for long; those on guard duty sent up an alarm as soon as they realized what was going on.