Dragon of the Island (31 page)

Aurora couldn’t help contrasting the room’s
sparse, ancient furnishings with those of her father’s office. It
had a lovely tiled floor, a massive desk instead of a table, and
tall shelves stuffed with rolled-up books. It was heated with a
beautiful bronze brazier, and there were several well-made couches
and chairs for guests. It was odd, Aurora thought, but despite the
beauty and wealth that surrounded him, compared to Maelgwn, her
father wielded very little power. Perhaps it was true that the days
of the Romans were over and from now on the land would be ruled by
the hardy Britains.

Maelgwn looked up, and an expression of
mingled surprise and pleasure crossed his face.

“Aurora! What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you.”

Maelgwn got up and found an old stool in the
corner and bade her sit down. He sat down again with the table
between them. Despite the warmth of his greeting, his face was wary
and his blue eyes blazed with deadly intensity.

Aurora cleared her throat. “I... I have
something to tell you.”

Maelgwn nodded.

“There has been a man down near the village
who I think is a Brigante. His name is Urlain, and he has been seen
talking to Grimerwyn.”

There was no change in Maelgwn’s face. No
flicker of interest. Nothing.

“I am afraid that Cunedda is plotting with
someone inside Caer Eryri to betray you, and this man is his spy.”
Aurora spoke breathlessly, the words tumbling out in a flood of
emotion.

“Who is it inside Caer Eryri that you think
he plots with?”

Aurora bit her lips, and her voice was
barely audible.

“Esylt.”

Maelgwn made an expression of disgust and
stood up.

“Well, does it not make sense?” Aurora asked
anxiously. “Grimerwyn was Esylt’s lover until recently, and
certainly Esylt is close enough with Cunedda that she might do
something like this!”

“Can’t you think of a better story, Aurora?
Esylt has many faults, I know, but it would be stupid for her to
plot against me with Cunedda. What could she ever hope to be to
him, except another one of his wives? She has much more power now
than Cunedda would ever give her.” Maelgwn looked at Aurora with
narrowed eyes. “I should never have told you of my doubts about
Cunedda. It seems I cannot trust you with any information.”

“Perhaps I am wrong about Esylt,” Aurora
said in anguish. “But the part about the Brigante man and
Grimerwyn—that is true!”

“Did you see them?”

“No, but the person that told me is very
trustworthy.”

“Who told you?”

Aurora looked away from Maelgwn’s angry
face.

“I cannot tell you,” she answered
miserably.

“Perhaps it was that old crone—Justina,”
Maelgwn said scornfully. “I am told that she is a crazy, that the
herbal potions she takes give her strange and fanciful dreams.
Perhaps this is one of them.”

Maelgwn came around the table and stood
directly in front of Aurora, so close he was almost touching her.
“It’s just a story, isn’t it?” he asked her coldly. “It’s just a
lie you made up to try and turn me against Esylt.”

Aurora shook her head and stood up. “No. No,
it’s not,” she said defiantly. Somehow the fear was leaving her,
and she was angry and very frustrated. “Why is it you believe
Esylt’s stories against
me
?” Aurora challenged. “I would
think after Dinas Brenin you would have realized what a
manipulative monster she is!”

Maelgwn had turned his back, as if to leave,
but at her words, he came back to stand close to her.

“Who told you of Dinas Brenin?” he asked in
a quiet, deadly voice.

It seemed that there was something stuffed
in Aurora’s throat. In her anger she had forgotten her promise to
Justina. She did not know what to say.

“I must have overheard someone,” she said in
a voice that was little more than a whisper.

“Liar!” he hissed. “No one at Caer Eryri
would speak of it to you. No one would dare. Tell me,” he continued
threateningly. “Tell me who told you.”

“I can’t,” she answered in a quavering
voice. “I can’t betray them.”

For a moment Aurora feared Maelgwn would
strike her—his face was so full of hatred. He grabbed her, his
fingers digging into her arms, then he pushed her away and backed
toward the door. “Damn scheming witch!” he shouted. “Your face is
so sweet and innocent, but you dared to keep secrets from me and
throw the ugliness of the past in my face!”

“No! I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Aurora
begged. “I am trying to warn you, to help you.” She reached out her
hands imploringly. “Please Maelgwn, please believe me. I have not
betrayed you... I... I love you.”

“Love!” Maelgwn sneered. “What do you know
of love except the favors your lovely body can earn for you. I am
not some boy you can manipulate as you wish. I am a man, a king,
and I have had my fill of scheming women for the rest of my
life.”

“Please, Maelgwn, please,” Aurora begged.
“Give me a chance.” Tears streamed down her face, and she felt as
if something was breaking inside of her.

“No!” Maelgwn thundered as he reached the
doorway. “You have used up all your chances with me!”

Aurora stood in the bare, lonely office and
cried silently. What should she do? She had tried to help Maelgwn,
to make things right, and he had rejected her more terribly than
ever. It was over, she thought bitterly. Now he would send her back
to her father. She was so alone, so completely alone. Gwenaseth and
Elwyn were so absorbed in each other, they no longer had time for
her. There was no one at Caer Eryri she could call a friend. No one
except Justina.

Aurora wiped her tear-streaked face on her
hands and tried to pull herself together. It was still early. She
could easily slip out the gate and go to the village. Aurora had a
great need to see Justina—to reassure herself that the intriguing
little woman was real. Already she had begun to doubt her memory.
Could it be that she had thrown away her last chance with Maelgwn
because of a crazy woman whose head was full of twisted
thoughts?

Aurora hurried to the gate, not stopping for
her horse. She would walk this time. There was no need to keep up
the pretense that she was just riding in the valley. She no longer
cared if Maelgwn knew she had gone to see Justina.

It was early afternoon—just a few hours
since she had visited before. The air was quiet and heavy, and
Aurora knew a storm was on its way. She should stop and get a
cloak, but it hardly seemed important. Aurora walked rapidly down
the track to the village. In the warm, calm air, she could smell
the heart-breaking scent of the star-flowers on the hill. It was
late summer, and soon the flowers would be gone. It would not
matter, Aurora thought bitterly. She would be gone, too, and Caer
Eryri would be just a memory.

Aurora had not yet reached the village when
the small hairs on the back of her neck told her that something was
wrong. She went a few paces farther and smelled smoke. The odor was
acrid, intense, but mingled with it was another, softer scent.
Aurora was not even near Justina’s hut when she began to suspect
what she would find. She quickened her pace, full of dread. Her
breathing was quick and shallow. Justina had known—that was why she
had given Aurora the poison.

Aurora reached the clearing and stopped. She
could go no further. Even from this distance, the heat was intense.
It was not only the dry, ancient wood of Justina’s hut which blazed
so fiercely, but also the herbs which had hung along the walls—that
was why the smoke smelled so sweet.

Aurora turned her head away. She did not
want to watch the wicked yellow flames, and she did not have to
approach more closely to know that Justina had been inside—that she
had been murdered. Aurora looked around the forest nervously. If
someone had seen fit to kill Justina—why not her, too? She bolted
out of the clearing like a frightened deer. Big drops of rain were
falling. She could hear them sizzle on the fire behind her. She ran
and ran, breathless, gasping. It was not until she was in sight of
the gate that she slowed her pace.

Caer Eryri looked so solid and ordinary
compared to the tragic destruction she had just witnessed. The
guard dozed inside the gatehouse. Woman were chasing a few
squalling geese into their pens, while errant children played a
game of tag, heedless of the rain. Aurora ran to the tower. She was
soaked. She was not chilled, but steaming with panicky sweat.

The stairs had never seemed so steep. Aurora
reached the tower room with relief, and let herself in. The sky
outside the room was dark and threatening, and no lamp or fire had
yet been kindled. It took a moment for Aurora’s eyes to adjust to
the darkness. As her eyes began to make out the familiar objects in
the room, her heart flew into her throat. Maelgwn was sitting
quietly on the bed, watching her.

Aurora had not expected to see her husband
again until he came to her to tell her that the marriage was over.
It unnerved her to find him waiting for her. She did not know what
to say; she waited for him to speak.

Maelgwn said nothing, but stood and went to
strike a flint to kindle the lamp. The golden light flared into the
dim, gloomy room. Still he did not speak, but walked back to sit
upon the bed. He seemed to be cupping something in his big hand,
and he played idly with the object, turning it around restlessly so
that it caught the glint of the lamplight and glowed eerily within
his fingers.

“What is this, Aurora?” His voice was calm,
without emotion.

He reached out his hand, palm up. The small
round object stood out clearly—it was the vial of poison Justina
had given Aurora.

For a long while, Aurora said nothing,
searching her mind for some story, some explanation that Maelgwn
would accept. Nothing came to her, and she remained silent,
listening to the sound of her own strained, harsh breathing.
Maelgwn twirled the small bronze jar until the facets along its
edges reflected dazzling patterns on the ceiling of the tower
room.

At last, reason seemed to return to her, and
she had her answer. “It is a beauty potion from Justina,” she said
in the coldest, most withering tone she could summon.

Maelgwn stared at her a moment, as if
willing the truth from her. Then he carefully removed the lid of
the jar and looked at its contents.

Aurora had not had a chance to open the jar
yet to see what the poison looked like. That afternoon she had
hastily dropped it on the table beside the bed before she went to
see Maelgwn. Now she leaned forward, startled by the sight of the
white powder inside the vial.

Maelgwn examined the contents carefully—even
sniffing it—then he moistened a finger and dipped it into the jar
as if to taste it.

“No!” Aurora shouted. “Don’t!”

Maelgwn looked at her curiously. “Why
not?”

“Because it is... it is...”

“Poison?” Maelgwn suggested helpfully. “I
thought as much. Justina is not as clever as she thinks. I have
heard of this concoction, and it is deadly indeed, but until it is
mixed in liquid, its odor gives it away. Tell me, Aurora, when did
you mean to give it to me? Did you plan to wait until we had a meal
in the great hall, and anyone could be blamed for it?”

“Not you!” Aurora said in an anguished
voice. “Never you!”

“Who then? Esylt?” Maelgwn’s fierce eyes
bored into her. “It seems that you are the one who schemes, Aurora.
You are the one who can’t be trusted.”

“It is not like that,” Aurora protested. “I
was afraid... afraid for you. Esylt is evil—she plans to destroy
you.”

“It is funny,” Maelgwn suggested, although
he looked anything but amused. “Since I was a child, whenever
anyone in my family tried to justify their actions, they used that
excuse. Whoever opposed them—they were always the evil ones. I am
so tired of this jealous hatred, Aurora. So tired. I want it to end
once and for all.”

Aurora slumped down on the stool in the
corner of the room, weak with fatigue and despair. She began to
twist her rings around on her fingers. Finally she looked up at
Maelgwn. He was watching her with a disgusted look that frightened
her even more than his anger.

“What are you going to do with me?” she
asked in a quavering voice.

Maelgwn walked over to her and picked her up
by her long hair, bringing her face very close to his. “What
should
I do with you?” he demanded. “Surely if I were wise,
I would kill you now, and put us both out of our misery.”

Aurora stared in terror at Maelgwn’s deadly
eyes. The blue was gone from them, and they were an empty, savage
black. Maelgwn released his grip, and Aurora fell back awkwardly on
the stool. He seemed to gain control of himself, and the murderous
rage left his face.

“I don’t know what I plan to do with you,”
he said as he strode toward the door. “I will have to think on it.
In the meantime, you are not allowed to leave this room.”

“You mean I am to stay here? A
prisoner?”

Maelgwn nodded. “There will be a guard at
the bottom of the stairs.”

“I will not run away,” Aurora begged.
“Please do not lock me up!”

Maelgwn shook his head. “I can’t trust you.
You’ve proven that. I wouldn’t be surprised if you went running to
Justina again.”

“Justina is dead!” Aurora cried. “Her hut
burned in a fire.” The pain hit her sharply. Justina was dead, for
a moment she had almost forgotten.

“Good riddance, I say,” Maelgwn said coldly.
“Can’t you see how she entangled you in her plot? She has always
hated Esylt, and in you she saw the perfect tool to finally wreak
her vengeance.”

“No! I don’t believe you!” Aurora protested.
“She was not like that. She was kind to me, and she was concerned
for the future of Gwynedd.”

“I don’t want to hear your stories and
justifications. I will let you know what I decide to do with you
tomorrow. In the meantime, I will send Gwenaseth to see to your
needs.”