Children of the Moon 04 - Dragon's Moon

couple of inches taller and a bit broader than the one on the right. Neither could be discounted in a fight, though, she was sure.
    The Éan were consistently smaller in stature than the Faol, Eirik being the exception, but her father said they were fierce warriors and he accorded them the same respect he did the wolves among his clan soldiers.
    Thankfully, neither man lifted a weapon in threat. She did not want any of her adopted uncle’s warriors hurt because they thought to go against a dragon who happened to be their ally. Though the fact they had come out of the forest at all was odd, now that she thought about it.
    Chrechte warriors were fierce, but to challenge a dragon?Only, they did not look like they meant to challenge Eirik, did they?
    And surely Eirik’s dragon senses would have alerted him to their presence before he landed.
    Mulling over these inconsistencies and coming up with nothing to explain them, Ciara climbed off Eirik’s back with help from his tail just as she’d done the first time. As soon as she stood on the ground, she dropped both her makeshift cloak and the bundle of Eirik’s things she had held in her lap for the flight.
    Her hand rested against the handle of her dirk. Something strange was going on here, but she sensed no danger.
    A flash of crimson light almost lost in the brightness of the sun heralded Eirik’s shift back into his human form. Neither of the men drawing nearer showed any surprise at this. In fact, the shorter one smiled in what had to be welcome.
    Ciara cut a quick look to Eirik, but she saw no recognition in his features for the guards. Which was not to say he did not know them, his face was simply void of any expression at all.
    Hers might not reflect the joy they’d both experienced in the air, but it no doubt showed her confusion.
    As the men came closer, recognition dawned. These were Chrechte warriors she’d often seen in the company of her adopted uncle, the Balmoral. She believed the taller one’s name to be Gart and his companion’s was Artair.
    Even so, why had Eirik landed here and revealed his dragon to them?
    “Prince Eirik,” Gart said with a bow.
    For a wolf to bow, he must hold another in great esteem. Ciara slid a sidelong glance at Eirik and wondered what he had done to gain such respect. Besides shift into a dragon.
    She almost laughed at her own naïveté.
    “It is Eirik only, now.”
    “In the company of humans, perhaps,” the Balmoral warrior conceded.
    Eirik merely inclined his head.
    The smaller warrior, Artair, grinned. “Your dragon is amazing, Prince Eirik.”
    “Aye, each time I take to the sky in that form, I know it.”
    The two men nodded, their expressions full of awe.
    “Lais and a human woman formerly of the MacLeod clan will be arriving by boat in a couple of hours.”
    “They are welcome.”
    Eirik inclined his head. “Your laird does not expect us.”
    “Nay,” Gart confirmed.
    And the more they conversed, the angrier Ciara became. These men clearly knew about Eirik, that he was prince of the Éan and his dragon was no surprise to them, either. Though seeing it for the first time had clearly been so.
    None of this matched with the secrecy still surrounding the Éan among her clan, nor Eirik’s declared intent to keep his dragon and position as prince under wraps particularly.
    She grabbed his arm and tugged him a few steps away from the guards.
    “You trust the Balmoral more than the Sinclair?” she demanded in a furious whisper as the import of the situation became plain.
    “They are Faol, they can hear your whispering.”
    “I know that.” She glared. “You said you did not want the Faol to know of your dragon form.”
    “Niall and Guaire know of my dragon, as do a handful of your father’s most trusted soldiers.”
    “So, what are you saying, the Balmoral and a select few of his Chrechte know as well?” she asked sarcastically.
    But Eirik nodded. “Exactly. Your uncle knows of my dragon as do the four soldiers who share this beach’s watch.”
    “Anyone else?” she demanded, though she knew it was not her business to do so.
    Eirik raised one sardonic brow, but he answered. “His lady, your mother’s sister, the Balmoral’s second and Drustan’s mate, your father’s sister.”
    “Why the Chrechte who are assigned to this beach?”
    “In case of a situation just like this one. Should the Sinclair need to get word to the Balmoral quickly, I am their best hope.”
    There was no denying that