Dragon of the Island (35 page)

Balyn nodded distractedly. “Do you think it
is a bad sign that Aurora hasn’t woken?”

Gwenaseth sighed. “I know much less than
Torawc, but it seems to me that if she breathes, there is hope.
Come, help me find something to make a bed for Maelgwn.”

Balyn and Gwenaseth went to the office in
the barracks, gathered up some bedding and dragged the sheepskins
and blankets up the tower stairs. They found Maelgwn slumped over
in the chair. After laying the skins on the floor, they slid him
off the chair and onto the makeshift bed.

When Maelgwn was taken care of, Balyn
motioned to Gwenaseth to follow him back to the stairway.

“There is something else you should know
about,” Balyn said in a troubled voice. “Soon after we got Aurora
back to Caer Eryri, a messenger arrived from Cunedda. It seems he
is having trouble with the Picts again and needs Maelgwn to bring
his army to help him.”

Gwenaseth looked up at the big man in
surprise.

“Does Maelgwn know about this?”

“Aye,” Balyn nodded gravely. “But he told
the man he could not leave until Aurora was safe.”

“Do you think the request from Cunedda is
genuine, or is it a trap?”

“A trap?”

“I thought you knew,” Gwenaseth said
impatiently. “One of the things Maelgwn and Aurora quarreled about
before he... before he locked her up, was that Aurora believed that
Cunedda had a spy in the village and that he was plotting with
someone within Caer Eryri to betray Maelgwn into a trap.”

“Someone within Caer Eryri? You mean Esylt,
don’t you?” Balyn asked with narrowed eyes.

Gwenaseth nodded. “Clearly Maelgwn did not
believe Aurora, but since Maelgwn was wrong about other things,
perhaps it is something to consider.”

“I have considered it,” Balyn said slowly.
“But it is not my decision to make. We need Maelgwn back to his
normal self, and we need it to happen soon!”

“I have been praying to the Christian God...
and to the other gods as well,” Gwenaseth said sorrowfully. “For
now that is all we can do.”

Balyn nodded glumly and left her; Gwenaseth
went in and took up her watch again.

The room was deathly quiet. Gwenaseth got up
and poked at the fire. Then she walked to the window and looked
out. It was a gray, miserable day, and it was still raining. The
air coming in through the windows was damp and cold, and Gwenaseth
shivered. The rains of autumn had begun; summer would be over
soon.

Gwenaseth went back and sat down by the fire
again. She pushed the stool back against the wall, so she could
lean back. It was so warm and cozy there.

She woke with a start, nearly falling off
the stool. For a moment she couldn’t remember where she was. There
was the sound of moaning, an awful sound, and Gwenaseth’s heart
leaped into her throat. She stumbled toward the bed. The room was
dark, and she could just barely make out the bed and Aurora’s form
upon it. The queen was thrashing about as if in pain. As she
struggled frantically in her sleep, she called out in a faint,
anguished voice.

“Help me! Help me, Marcus!”

Gwenaseth stroked her fevered brow and
whispered soothing words, but they did not seem to reach Aurora.
She continued to cry out, her muffled voice growing stronger.
Gwenaseth glanced anxiously to where the king lay sleeping. She did
not want him to wake up, she did not want him to hear the name that
Aurora kept calling, repeating it over and over in a voice full of
grief and pain.

It was too late. Gwenaseth saw the dark form
of the king rise on the other side of the bed. He leaned over to
grasp Aurora’s other hand, to whisper words of tenderness to
her.

“Marcus! Marcus!” Aurora mumbled in her
devastated voice, still tossing uneasily. “Help me!”

Gwenaseth heard Maelgwn’s sigh. He did not
pull his hand away, but he stopped speaking to Aurora.

Gradually, Aurora’s voice grew fainter and
calmer, and her restlessness eased. It seemed she had slipped back
into the peace of her dreams again.

Sweat was dripping down Gwenaseth’s face.
Even though there had been no danger near, Aurora’s calls had been
so heartbreakingly desperate, she felt as if she, too, had been
struggling with a deadly enemy. She moved to light the lamp so she
could check on Aurora more carefully. She had only taken two steps
when Maelgwn’s low, vibrant voice came to her from across the room.
“Who is he?”

The pain was etched deeply in those few
words, and Gwenaseth felt her heart sink. Maelgwn had heard clearly
enough—he knew that Aurora was calling for another man. Gwenaseth
considered what to tell him. Things left unsaid had made things so
hard between Aurora and Maelgwn. If Aurora lived, she and Maelgwn
would have to begin to be honest with each other if there was to be
any hope for their marriage at all. Perhaps it was time that
Maelgwn knew the truth.

“I’m not sure,” she began slowly. “I believe
that Marcus was someone she was in love with at Viroconium.”

From across the room, Gwenaseth could hear
Maelgwn release his breath in a painful, ragged sigh.

“But you must not hold it against her,”
Gwenaseth continued anxiously. “She said he was someone she could
never marry, and that they... that they were little more than
childhood friends.”

“Yet she calls for him, instead of me...
now... when her spirit is so near death.”

“You must remember,” Gwenaseth spoke softly,
her voice little more than a whisper in the darkness. “When she
left here last night, she was very afraid of you.”

“How can I forget?”

The raw suffering in his voice was
unbearable to listen to. Gwenaseth hurried to comfort Maelgwn.

“Hush,” she said gently, touching Maelgwn’s
arm with her hand. “She will wake soon, and then you can tell her
the things you wish to say.”

“Are you sure? Are you sure that she will
not just die in her sleep... never knowing I love her?”

Gwenaseth forced her voice to be calm. “Of
course. That she struggles and cries out means she is getting
better, does it not? Next time... perhaps next time she will wake,
and you can talk to her.”

Gwenaseth was not sure if Maelgwn accepted
her words. She went again to light the lamp, sure that neither of
them would be able to sleep.

Ah, the pain, the searing pain! Aurora
struggled to escape—down, down into the warm comforting darkness.
The light would not leave her alone. It followed her... like the
pain. She awoke with a moan of agony.

The room was light—a gray misty light that
suffused the air. It was cold as well. Aurora shivered under the
blankets. She was naked and confused. Why was she in the tower
room. Had she only dreamed of escaping?

Aurora struggled to lift her head—fighting
the waves of nausea and dizziness that seemed to overwhelm her. She
could see Gwenaseth dozing in a chair next to the nearly dying
fire. She tried to call out, but her throat was so dry. Her voice
sounded like the faint rustle of dry leaves.

Aurora heard a sound on her other side, and
turned her head carefully, wincing at the fiery pain the movement
caused. Maelgwn’s face came vaguely into view. Aurora did not feel
frightened—the pain in her head was too distracting, and Maelgwn
looked so tired, so concerned. She lifted her hand, as if to reach
out and touch him, then let it fall again. It was too hard; he was
too far away.

“Aurora,” he whispered. “Aurora, my love.”
Aurora tried to nod, but the small movement seemed impossible. She
could only stare at the exhausted, dirt-streaked face of her
husband as he watched her with a look of exquisite tenderness. He
reached out to touch her face, and Aurora’s vision faded as his
fingers stroked her cheek. Her head hurt so badly! She closed her
eyes, seeking the oblivion of sleep once again.

“She is out of danger then?” Balyn asked
Maelgwn anxiously.

“Aye, Torawc says so, anyway. It is the
medicine he gives her to block the pain which makes her sleep so
much.”

“Have you... talked to her.”

Maelgwn looked uneasy “I have tried, but she
seems so weak and confused. I don’t want to tire her.”

“Or perhaps it is too hard to tell her how
you feel?”

“What are you saying?” Maelgwn asked
sharply.

“You know, there was a time, Maelgwn, when
you would have given your whole kingdom just to tell your wife that
you loved her. But now that she is mending, you make excuses for
not talking to her.”

“That is not true. I did tell her that I
meant her no harm, that I had no intention of killing her. I have
also made it clear that I won’t be sending her back to Viroconium.
The incident with the poison—that is to be completely
forgotten.”

“But, the other—your love for her—have you
been honest about that?”

“What can I say?” Maelgwn asked defensively.
“It’s true, I love her, but that does not solve the problems
between us.”

Balyn shook his head. “I don’t understand. I
thought at last—if Aurora lived—things would be right with your
marriage.”

Maelgwn was silent, and Balyn stared
perplexed at his king’s moody face.

“Have you decided if we will go to Cunedda’s
aid?”

“Of course, as his ally I am sworn to assist
him. It is just a matter of when. I... I do not look forward to
telling Aurora that I am going off to war right now.”

“How long can you delay? It has been at
least a week since the messenger arrived.”

“We will have to leave soon. I have already
sent the word to Abelgirth and some of the other chieftains. No one
is anxious to leave so close to harvest.”

“Have you considered that this summons from
Cunedda might be... ah... something other than an honest request
for help?”

Maelgwn frowned. “Not you, too. Gwenaseth
has already reminded me of Aurora’s concerns. How can I know?
Aurora did not see this Brigante man herself—all we have to go on
is the word of a crazy woman, and now she is dead.”

“I have wondered about that—Justina was
considered peculiar by the villagers, but certainly harmless. Why
would anyone murder her?”

“Who says it was murder? Perhaps her hut
caught fire by accident. It was full of dried herbs. All it would
have taken is one errant spark.”

Balyn opened his mouth to speak again, and
then closed it. Maelgwn’s face had that look again—he did not want
to hear any more troubling suggestions.

Maelgwn took the stairs to the tower room
slowly, as though his boots were full of stones. He did not look
forward to this talk with Aurora, but he had put it off as long as
possible. His army was grouped to march, and if he delayed any
longer, Cunedda would begin to suspect him of disloyalty.

Gwenaseth opened the door. She had spent
nearly all her days in the tower since Aurora had been brought in
injured. She had shown herself to be a loyal and devoted friend to
Aurora. He had to remember to thank her.

Aurora was sitting up in bed. She had
regained some of her color, but she still looked very thin. He
could see the bones in her delicate neck clearly through the pale
skin. But the pain and illness had not marred her beauty. As
always, Maelgwn felt a pang of desire just looking at his wife.

She smiled uneasily at him. “Good day,
Maelgwn.”

“Good day, my lady.”

Maelgwn sat down on the bed. He reached out
for Aurora’s hand and twined his fingers around hers. It was hard
to be satisfied with so little of her, but he dared not even kiss
her for fear he would hurt her.

“It seems you have been busy,” Aurora said
after a moment. “I hear all kinds of commotion out in the
courtyard—horses and people coming and going.”

“That is what I have come to talk to you
about,” Maelgwn said gently, looking into Aurora’s face. “We are
going to war.”

“Against whom?”

“The Picts. Cunedda has asked for our
help.”

Aurora said nothing, but nodded slowly. The
troubled look on her face was clear.

“I don’t want to leave you now—you know
that.” Maelgwn’s eyes pleaded for understanding.

“When
are
you leaving?” Aurora
asked.

“In the morning.”

Aurora gave a rapid sigh. Maelgwn moved his
fingers along Aurora’s arm, stroking the soft skin. At her shoulder
he stopped—he dared go no further.

Aurora felt his uneasy, reluctant touch and
gave another gasping sigh. Then she turned her face away, as though
she could hide the fat tears that welled into her eyes and then
coursed down her cheeks.

Maelgwn moaned. “Aurora, what is it?”

“You are leaving... and you don’t even want
me.” Aurora choked out the words in a thin, devastated voice.

Maelgwn leaned over on the bed and began to
kiss her passionately. “Oh, Aurora, I did not know if I could. I
was afraid I would hurt you.”

Aurora shook her head mutely and began to
return his kisses.

Maelgwn savored the sweet nectar of his
wife’s mouth, and then lingered his lips over the fragile bones in
her face. Perhaps it was better this way—he could prove to her that
she did not have to fear him, that he would not hurt her. She was
so frail. His fingers trembled over the sharp ridges of her ribs as
he pulled down her gown. But her breasts seemed unchanged—they were
firm and liquid in his hands, the nipples fat and swollen—and she
responded with familiar eagerness as he began to suck them. He
could feel Aurora’s fingers twining in his hair as he played with
her breasts. She was holding him close to her with a fierce
possessiveness that set him on fire. Oh, to know that she wanted
him!

The hunger that he remembered so well—even
from the first time in her father’s garden—was still there. He felt
the pressure of her hips arching against him, begging for his love.
He slid her gown down further and pulled back so that he could
stare at her naked beauty. He knew now that he could indeed put his
hands around her slender waist, and the tininess of it emphasized
the alluring fullness of her hips, the hip bones jutting out
slightly. She parted her legs as he touched the dark curls between
them. There was soft fleshiness there in the soft V between her
legs, an arrow pointing the way to even greater softness and
delight.