The Blacksmith Queen (The Scarred Earth Saga, #1) - G.A Aiken Page 0,73
But we’re fellow blacksmiths. We should be learning from each other. Discussing the wonders of steel and iron!”
“I can’t express to you how badly that’s going to work with the dwarves. Trust me on this, Keeley. You go to them as a human queen looking for an alliance because your sister is a worse choice. That’s it. That’s the card you play.”
“But if they like me—”
“No. I can’t say that strongly enough. Just no.”
* * *
Caid could tell by Keeley’s expression she wanted to argue, but he also knew that would be a bad idea. The dwarves, like most of the mountain races, were not to be challenged. And the dwarves took their blacksmithing so seriously, they would only see Keeley as another pathetic human who thought she was a decent blacksmith. And it didn’t help how perky she was. Dwarves weren’t naturally perky.
“Trust me,” he practically begged. “Please.”
She took a moment, staring at the ground. Then she looked directly at him and said, “I will do my best to follow your counsel.”
Caid frowned. “Huh?”
“I’m trying to sound like a queen here.”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
She hissed at him a little, which he found a bit off-putting, and walked to her bed. She sat down on it and Caid, assuming they were done, headed toward the tent flap.
“Wait,” she called out.
Caid stopped, faced her. “Something else?”
“There’s something I’d like to do before I get some sleep. If you don’t mind.”
“You want me for sex?”
Keeley’s eyes grew wider than Caid had ever seen. “Pardon?”
“Isn’t that what you want? Human women always seem to want to have sex with centaurs.”
“Actually . . . I was . . . um . . . hoping to meet your father? Not to have sex with him, though,” she quickly added. “Or you. No offense.”
“No. I’m sorry.” Caid moved a little closer. “The few humans I’ve met who know what we are usually want to have sex with us.”
“Even the men?” she asked, appearing confused. “They want to have sex with female centaurs?” Caid was about to get insulted for the females of his race when Keeley added, “I mean . . . don’t they feel insecure? There’s no way they could possibly live up to what I’ve seen trotting around your camps.”
Caid turned away, attempting to stop his laughter by rubbing his nose with his fist.
“Come on,” he choked out. “I’ll take you to my father.”
* * *
Keeley followed Caid through the camps. It was easy to tell the difference between the more peace-loving centaurs and the ones who were bred to be warriors. The soldier centaurs had antlers or horns and lots of scars from past battles. They were always strapped with weapons and their eyes were the eyes of predators, not prey.
But they lived easily among their kin because they didn’t use their power and strength against their own. Instead, they were there to put the others at ease. To make everyone feel safe. Something that, to Keeley’s mind anyway, was what power was for. To protect those who weren’t meant to carry a sword or kill on command. Not everyone had the desire and very few were good at it. So why force them when it wasn’t their skill?
They reached an open field with a herd of horses racing around it. The gray mare was in their midst and the sight made Keeley smile. Seeing the horse doing what she did best. Run free.
Caid put two fingers to his mouth and whistled. One of the horses split off from the herd and raced toward them. As it neared, Keeley realized that it wasn’t a horse; it was a centaur. He hadn’t shifted either. He’d simply blended into the herd, and it wasn’t until he was on his own that one could see what he was.
How he managed to hide those antlers, though . . . ? She’d never know. They were enormous. Bigger than Caid’s. They must get bigger the older a centaur lives, Keeley thought, which she found fascinating.
He came to a stop in front of Caid and Keeley.
“Father, this is Queen Keeley of the Hill Lands.”
Keeley blinked, shocked to hear herself given such a title.
“Keeley, this is my father, Hearn, chief of our clan.”
Hearn nodded at her but that was all.
But when Keeley didn’t say anything—she was still staring at his antlers. Did he sleep with those? Were they uncomfortable to sleep in? Did he hit low-hanging things often with those things?—Caid said, “Keeley would like to speak with you,