Chapter One

For these enemy dragons, the Irons, trying to sneak into their camp had become a weekly occurrence. Not that she could blame them. After five years of a standstill war in this valley called Euphrasia, both sides had become tired of it all. The constant but ineffectual skirmishes, the occasional attempts to poison each other's water supply. When would it end? When would this war become something they all talked about in the past tense?

Rhona the Fearless certainly didn't know. She was merely a soldier in Her Majesty's Army. She received her orders from commanders and made sure those orders were executed. She killed whenever necessary, and protected those who needed it. What she didn't do was play politician. She was never involved in decisions that affected anything beyond the general safety of her troops. As a sergeant that was all she needed to be responsible for, and she was good at what she did.

Then again, she was one of the Cadwaladr Clan. Lowborn warrior dragons of the Southlands who many said were born to kill. To destroy. Rhona's mother, Bradana the Mutilator, would say those many were right, and to prove it, she expected all her offspring to become elite Dragon-warriors of Her Majesty's Army. And almost all Bradana's offspring did. Except her youngest daughters, triplets who had a few more years of battle training ahead of them before they were ready, and Bradana's eldest. Except for Rhona.

Ahhh, nothing like thinking of a mother's disappointment to keep one warm during watch in the Vall