Free Celtic Stars (Celtic Steel Book 4) by Delaney Rhodes Page A

“I’m not a dragon master.”
    “What’s a king dragon, Naelyn?” Orla interrupted.
    “We need to be going now,” said Braeden motioning for them to follow. Pushing aside the high brush that just bordered the shoreline, he ventured into the sandy area a bit. Now that the sun was up, sentries wouldn’t find it unusual for people to be in the area, and it was less likely they would be stopped or questioned. Traveling along the shoreline would make their journey easier and bring them close to some piers from which they could maybe do some fishing. “I think we can stop in an hour or so, and see what we might catch with this net I found.”
    “What’s a King Dragon?” Orla repeated this time softly, to Naelyn.
    “Shhh…,” said Naelyn, waving at Orla, "Not now.”
***
    “They’ve been whispering like that for hours,” Kurt offered smugly. “I can’t say as how I ken anathing about what they do or do not know about dragons or anathing else for that matter,” he shook his head in aggravation.  “I get that they are both scribes, brothers and druid priests,” he added, motioning towards the table where Airard and Lucian sat conversing quietly with Patrick. “But what in the world do ye ‘spose it means to be a Dragonian?”
    “I ‘ave no idea meself,” Tragus remarked slowly. “Never heard tell of it. Have ye?” he asked, grunting towards Flynn Montgomery, Chieftain of the O’Malley militia and Patrick’s Scottish cousin.
    “Aye,” Flynn grunted back, keeping his eye steadily locked on Dervilla O’Malley, who was seated halfway across the great hall breaking fast with her sister.
    “Well,” quipped Kurt.
    “Well,” added Tragus.
    “Well, what?” grunted Flynn.
    “He’s no’ paying ana attention a’ all to us,” Kurt remarked, slapping his hand down on the hard wooden table in front of Flynn. “Are ye?” Kurt added.
    Flynn jumped, spilling his mug all over the platters of pork in front of the men, and turning over his stool in the process, landing belly up against the hard stone floor.  The great hall erupted in laughter and servants scurried about to clean up the mess.  Kurt reached down an arm to help him up while Tragus straightened the stool for him, inviting him to give it another try.
    “Ye sure have yer mind on other things, do you no’?” asked Tragus, slicing a knowing glance towards Dervilla and back again at Flynn.
    “I suppose I do,” Flynn admitted, straightening his tartan about his shoulders.
    “They’re talking about ye, milord,” said the maidservant to Flynn, as she refilled his mug and set it back down next to his fresh platter. “Verra interesting conversation if ye ask me,” she added coyly before turning towards Tragus’ mug.
    “What do ye mean?” chuckled Kurt, “They’re talking about Flynn?”
    “Aye,” she replied, “About Flynn and he’s betrothed, mind ye. 'Bout them both even.”
    “Aye, I ken what ye are a’saying,” said Tragus.”But Dervilla O’Malley, the Lord’s sister-in-law, she is no’ Flynn’s betrothed,” he remarked gesturing towards Dervilla’s table.
    “Do ye think me dense? Of course, everyone knows Dervilla O’Malley ‘tis, not his betrothed. She has might near a year going on her military commission yet, she can’t be getting a’married and serve in the militia.”
    “Flynn has no betrothed. What are ye talking about?” ask Kurt.
    “I think they said the lass's name was Aisling or some other such something like that. Anahow, I’ve got to be serving some other tables. I suggest ye ask Flynn there for clarification,” she added pointing at a pale white Flynn Montgomery. “If anyone should know about Flynn’s betrothed it should be Flynn.”
     

T EN
Burke Lands
    She sat in the corner on the wobbly stool provided by her host and peeled potatoes in silence.  It was a chore she had only recently become accustomed to, and she dreaded it. She knew better than to complain, it wouldn’t help anyway and at