Laughing, her father kissed the top of her head. “I adore you.”

She shrugged at her cousin. “See?”

Lips a thin, angry line, Rhi patted her father’s shoulder, telling him to let her down.

He lowered her carefully—again, as if she were fragile glass. She smoothed the skirt she insisted on wearing over leather leggings and nodded at Talwyn’s father. “Uncle Fearghus.”

He put his arm around his niece’s shoulders and hugged her close. “My little Rhi. I’m sorry you were hurt.”

“I’m fine, Uncle. And thank you for caring,” she added, her eyes widening at Talwyn.

“What did you want me to do while you were bleeding from the eyes? Lick it off?”

“Och! You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re a spoiled brat!”

“I’m spoiled?”

“Daddy!” Talan called out, barreling through the tent flap, arms spread wide, his trajectory straight for their father.

But her father was fast as well and he held out his arm, palm up, his expression cautionary.

“No,” Fearghus told Talan.

“Just a hug.”

“No.”

“I bet you hugged Talwyn,” Talan accused.

“I love her.”

Talwyn laughed at that as Rhi quickly stepped between father and son. Although she didn’t really have to. Talan enjoyed tormenting their father with forced affection. It made Fearghus the Destroyer incredibly uncomfortable, and anything that made their stoic father uncomfortable entertained her brother endlessly.

“We don’t have time for this,” Rhi announced. “We are in grave trouble here, and we need a plan. Yes?”

Fearghus nodded. “There already is a plan.”

Talan immediately looked at her, but all Talwyn could do was shrug at his unasked question.

“What plan is that?” Talan asked.

“We weren’t given full details. Not yet,” Briec admitted. “But it will involve our father. Bercelak the Great will be joining the battle.”

There was a long moment of silence as the youngest of the family let the information their fathers had imparted to them sink in. Then they each had their own reaction.

Talwyn swung her fist, gritted her teeth, and growled, “Yessssssss!”

Talan cringed like he’d been kicked in the balls.

And Rhi burst into copious tears, wailing, “Father, nooooooo!”

* * *

“They left us here to die,” Uther said again. “Where’s the loyalty?”

“They left the horses. I’m sure they’ll be back.” Caswyn let his friend use his working arm to lift him up enough to get a drink of the stream water he so desperately needed.

He was just about to take a sip when small hands slapped the metal cup from Uther’s hands.

“Oy!” Uther barked, until he saw who stood before them. “Princess Keita?”

“Don’t drink from the stream.” She held out her hand and snapped at Brannie and Aidan, who were walking toward them all—from where? Uther had no idea, but Aidan carried chain mail armor and boots. “Give me one of your canteens, Branwen.”

Handing the canteen to Aidan, Brannie motioned for him to help Uther while she kept walking.

And she continued walking until she reached the princess. That’s when she spun Keita around, slipped her hands under her arms, and lifted the princess off the ground until they were at eye level.