Page 164 of The Dragon Queen Complete Series Collection

Chapter 163

I now understood why Ged had reservations.

The noise was what hit me first. Men talking, shouting, singing along to the band that was playing a merry jig in the corner. Some even lumbering to their feet and dancing around in time with the song, pulling barmaids away from their work to join them. Feet slammed down on the wooden floor, sending reverberations through every single one of us, both from the dancers spinning around and the seated stamping in time with the beat.

Dancing was the more wholesome entertainment people were engaged in.

A shriek heralded the fact that a girl was pulled down into the lap of a rider and my hand went to my belt, seeking my knife, just in time to see her flush prettily and then smile at him. I knew what she was feeling. Overpowered, yet deliciously so, if her heavy-lidded gaze was anything to go by. The man gave a growl and then lunged forward, kissing her lips. She struggled to keep pace with his passion, his mouth moving lower, burning a trail down her neck. I knew how that felt too. Remembering that, feeling stubble or beards brushing against my skin as I writhed beneath them, had me looking away abruptly.

Not that there was much relief to be found elsewhere.

Men drank, ate, and made merry, often with the women that worked here, and why not? We would march out to war within the week and there were no guarantees that we would survive to tell tales of our valour. That had me refocussing my attention back where it was needed, on them.

“I assume that when you came here before you didn’t stand in the doorway, waiting for an invite?” I asked.

“No—” Ged was about to say.

“Ged!” Several riders got to their feet and held up tankards with a hopeful look. “Come and have a drink, you big bastard!”

“You can go if you like.” My cheeks burned hot when I realised how high handed that sounded. “Not that you need my permission. After all, you were the conquering heroes today.”

“Then I know exactly how I want to celebrate my victory.”

Flynn gave me no warning, swooping in and slinging me over his shoulder before walking out into the pub. Men cat called as we passed, casting all sorts of aspersions on his character and mine so that by the time Flynn deposited me in a booth, I was completely flustered. I’d been forced to grip my cap lest it fall off and I tugged it low now, unable to cope with the attention we were now getting.

“So you finally made it,” a rider said, forced to grip our table for support. “And you brought your own pretty?” I’m not sure how clearly he saw me, the man’s eyes hazy with drink. “That lad is fair as?—”

“The lad is mine,” Flynn growled as his arm went around me.

He shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t seem to bring myself to pull away. That heavy weight, the warmth of him, the hard plane of his chest, I craved it like the other riders did drink. My face pressed itself into the hollow of his shoulder, as if I was shy, not drinking in his scent in big gulps.

The rider’s brows drew down, but Draven came to stand beside him, waiting for the rider to recognise him. The man’s eyes went wide as he looked the king up and down with comical slowness.

“Highness… I mean, Majesty, I?—”

“Just Draven for tonight,” he replied with a tight smile, then thrust a pouch of coins into his hands. “And these are for you to find your own pretty companion.”

The rider seemed to finally sense he was being dismissed, so he sketched a sloppy salute before staggering away.

“I’ll get us some drinks,” Soren said with a sigh. “And some food to line our stomachs.”

I’d stay right where I was, apparently. Draven slid into the booth beside me, pinning me between Flynn and him, and an animal part of me couldn’t have been more happy.

Then there was the other part.

Ged sat down opposite me, but it was Brom who caught my attention. Sometimes it felt like he wore a mask, one he could never take off. Wing commander, Lord Emberly’s son, loyal friend to the king, but they were all just roles. I wanted to push past them, get to the core of him.

And what was stopping me?

We were in a corner of the pub, far from the mad throng. The noise of the place would drown out any conversation we had, yet as I leaned forward to do just that, Flynn’s hand sliding over my shoulder blades, Soren returned.

“Here you go.” Tankards were handed out, one hesitantly pushed my way. “I can get you a wine, if that’s what you prefer, Pippin?”

“Would a lad in a pub drink glasses of wine?” I asked as I pulled my tankard closer.

“Not unless he wanted to get mocked mercilessly…” Ged muttered, then took a drink of his and winked at me. “But we’ll protect you from any bastard that tries.”

“Pippin—” Soren started to say, but the crowd seemed to realise who’d joined us.

“The king himself has come to drink with his riders!” one man in uniform shouted as he got to his feet.

The band laid down their instruments as everyone rose. My men looked around and then did the same, forcing me to follow them. I caught the fine flush in Draven’s cheeks, the keen look in his eyes. He was trying to mask everything, but it was there if you knew where to look. I’m not sure what kind of king Draven would make in peacetime, but in war?

This was what he was made for.

The theatrical flair of his demonstration of what dragonfire could do, the way he stirred the men. They loved him, that I could see clearly in each and every rider’s face. They held up their drinks to honour him, cheering when he did the same. I didn’t like beer much. Awful bitter stuff I’ve always thought, and yet I raised mine now gladly. Draven needed this, to be seen, to be recognised for everything he did for his country, and right now was his moment.

“He’ll lead us to victory,” the man giving the toast declared. “The first king in recent history to be a true dragon rider. Got the spirit of the dragon, this one, and now the fire of one. To the king!”

“To the king!”

The shout went up and out through the pub, and I felt swept up in it. The sound of a hundred voices toasting as one, there was a power to it. Would it survive the brutality of war, I didn’t know, but right now I hoped it would. Draven lifted his own beer, drinking the entire thing down to the sound of the crowd’s cheers, before he deposited the mug back on the desk with a flourish.

“Drink up, lads,” he commanded, “because tomorrow you’ll be drilling from dawn to dusk.” A good natured groan went through the crowd. “Or you’ll be packing provisions, working with the logistics teams to ensure we don’t starve on our journey. Whatever role you play, know that it’s an important one. I’ll need each and every one of you by my side for what we intend to do.” Someone ran forward and placed another tankard in Draven’s hand and he held it out then. “Bringing the Duke of Harlston and all the traitors to justice!”

“To justice!”

Draven sat down after that, the pub descending back into chaos. Riders rushed the bar, ready for more free beer, and that meant the spotlight was off us. I settled back into the booth, Flynn’s arm going around me, Draven’s hand landing on my thigh.

“Well, looks like we’re making a night of it.”

Ged’s grin was infectious. He waved a girl over to order more beers. She nodded in acknowledgement, but finished depositing drinks from her tray on someone else’s table first.

“That’s not smart. You’ll be up at daybreak,” Soren grumbled. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“That’s not an issue for me.” There was a slight edge to Flynn’s tone as he smiled down at his drink. “I’ll strap myself into Glacier’s saddle and snooze all the way to Skane.”

“Bastard.”

Ged flicked beer foam at the other man.

“I’ll be in strategy meetings all day tomorrow,” Draven sighed. “They give me a headache anyway, so I may as well earn one having fun.”

“We need to have our wits about us if we’re to survive this,” Soren protested. “All this grand talk of war and?—”

“Nothing we do is wise.” I blinked as everyone turned to stare at me, and while I wanted to meet Brom’s eyes, it was Soren I focussed on. “War isn’t wise. Drinking isn’t wise. Music, dancing, laughing…” I shook my head. “Making me queen where the world expects me to be with Draven and only Draven, all the while refusing to end this relationship. We…” I finally did stare at Brom then. “We are madness, and yet we don’t… No, we refuse to stop.”

“Can’t stop,” Flynn ground out, dragging my focus to him. “Can’t face a bloody war, can’t get on my dragon’s back and stand beside the gravesides of all of my family, not without knowing I’m coming back to you.”

My hand slid under the table and found his, that hard grip keeping me grounded. Maybe I did the same for him? I squeezed it and then continued.

“So tonight, let us not speak of logic and reason, because that’s not what this is about.” I looked around the pub and saw it truly now. Everything each person did here was an attempt to stave off the cruel mistress of reality, if only for one night. “Tonight we drink.” I raised my beer and so did the others, Brom much more slowly. “To the madness of what we are, a condition we will never seek to cure.”

“Well, I’ll drink to that,” Ged said and then did just that.

“You’ll drink to anything,” Flynn shot back.

“You’ve got the right of it, as per usual.” Soren’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. “I’ll do whatever my queen orders.”

“To the queen,” Draven said, amending the toast and while it was a much quieter, more personal one, it warmed me through just the same.

We all drank down the bitter beer, Draven forced to take some of mine until the barmaid came over.

“And what can I get you gents?” she asked, leaning over the table, her capacious bosom on display.

“Another round of beer,” Brom replied in crisp tones, quickly shutting down any ideas the woman might have of offering more physical comforts. “And I need to use the facilities.”

He got up without another word and started walking across the pub.

“Me too.”

I didn’t even try to mask my voice, the tone of it having the barmaid’s eyebrows raising, but that was nothing compared to this. The men all started to protest, to let me know I’d need an escort, so I was up and standing on my seat, then scrambling across the table before dropping down on the floor. My strides didn’t match Brom’s and men appeared in my path, some leering, some offering to do things to me I didn’t even understand, but I was nimble and they were drunk, so I wove around them and kept going until I saw the sign indicating where the privy was. Out in a dark alley, it appeared, as I stumbled out of the door.

The noise was muffled out here, the quiet sounds of the night slowly filtering in. I looked right, looked left and only saw shadows and vague shapes, having no idea where Brom had gone. I chose left, hoping that dark shape was what I was looking for.

“What the hell are you doing walking out here by yourself?”

Hands jerked me sideways and before I could screech, I saw Brom standing there, frowning severely.

“What the hell am I doing?” I said, shoving myself away from him. “What the hell are you doing?”