The Dragon Prince (12 page)

They discussed other matters of interest,
such as the crops that could be expected this year and the recent
weather, which had hampered Aurelius in getting his ships back and
forth from Less Britain. Then servants came in bearing more of the
finely-made couches. “We’ll dine as Romans this night,” their host
said. Something must have showed in Rhun’s expression, for Aurelius
laughed suddenly. “Or would you rather squat down around the
brazier and take your meal that way?”

“Verily I would,” Rhun answered. “I never
quite get used to the idea of lying down while I eat.”

“I keep to the Roman ways because it pleases
my wife,” Aurelius said. “Surely you can understand the importance
of that.” He motioned with his head toward the doorway. “Your
lady—is she a Saxon?”

Rhun nodded.

“Odd to find one of Arthur’s Companions
keeping company with a woman of the enemy, although she is
certainly beautiful.”

Bridei laughed. “She’s more to my brother
than a bed partner. The arrows of the Roman god Eros have struck
him a mortal blow.”

“Ah.” Aurelius smiled at Rhun. “There are
worse things, Rhun ap Maelgwn, than succumbing to a woman. I wish
you well in the matter. Perhaps if this truce holds, you could even
think of wedding her.”

If Aurelius only knew, Rhun thought, that
Eastra was the very means of making certain the truce
did
hold.

Abruptly, Aurelius turned toward the door
and clapped his hands. “The women are here. Time to forget politics
and enjoy ourselves.”

The women filed in. Rhun found himself
staring at Eastra. She was attired in a Roman stola, the flowing
garment arranged in complex folds around her torso and baring one
creamy-skinned shoulder. Her hair was piled on top of her head, and
the silvery curls formed a glowing nimbus around her face. She
looked like the statue of a Roman goddess come to life.

Aurelius cast a thoughtful glance in her
direction, then hurried to escort his wife to her couch. The
younger women took their places, and the servants began to carry in
platters of food.

Never had she tasted such delicious food,
Eastra thought as she nibbled the spiced meat filling in a
rolled-up grape leaf. But it was difficult to concentrate on the
exquisite flavors when she was so acutely aware of the slaves who
served them. The two young men carrying the platters could only be
Saxons. Their hair was near as bright as hers, their eyes as vivid
blue. She knew Rhun was watching her, aware of how closely she
followed the movements of the two Saxons. Did he guess how her
heart ached for them?

But he was a prince, and used to being
waited upon by underlings. They must have slaves in his father’s
household in Gwynedd. A deep resentment swept through her. Rhun
thought of himself as kindhearted and generous, but he easily
accepted this kind of injustice. No doubt he believed conquered
people were meant to serve their conquerors, that it was the
natural way of things. But, in truth, it was ugly and corrupt. A
man or woman didn’t become an unfeeling animal simply because their
people had been defeated in battle! These vacant-faced youths knew
anguish and despair and longing the same as anyone else!

She took another bite, thinking she must not
allow her anger to be obvious.

She is not content,
Rhun thought.
Despite the comfortable and beautiful surroundings, the delicious
food they dined upon, Eastra looked unhappy. Was it because
everyone assumed she was his leman? Did the shame of that spoil her
mood?

He watched her eyes following the two Saxon
servants. Did she know them, or merely pity them because she had
once served as they did now? If it came to that, would she choose
the cause of her own people over anything she felt for him?

He pushed the thought from his mind. She
owed him nothing. Why should she not feel a kinship with other
Saxons, especially those who had been forced into slavery, as she
had been? He shouldn’t have expected otherwise. Always, he was
forgetting what she was: a hostage and Cerdic’s niece.

The servants brought course after course,
and the enameled cups were constantly refilled with rich, sweet
wine. At last, groaning, Rhun put up his hand. “Enough! I’m on the
verge of bursting!”

“And I also,” Bridei said. He gave a laugh.
“If I didn’t know Arthur counts you as one of his most valued
friends, I would suspect you of trying to kill us with a surfeit of
rich food!”

Aurelius waved dismissingly. “Life is meant
to be enjoyed. I know you have been hard on the campaign trail
these last years. You deserve a fine meal as payment for what you
are doing for Britain.”

“If only the other merchants in Londinium
thought as you do,” Rhun said. “But I fear they hardly appreciate
what would happen to our homeland if not for Arthur.”

“His reputation keeps the raiders at bay. He
cannot win, but he slows down the tide so it comes in gently
instead of inundating us and sweeping everything away.”

“You don’t think we can prevail?” Rhun
asked.

Aurelius paused in eating a honey cake.
“Look around while you are in Londinium. Everywhere, you will see
Saxons—merchants, craftsmen and their families. They are here,
building their houses alongside ours, raising their children. And
those children will grow up and claim this place as their
home.”

“But if Arthur had not fought the Saxons
these past thirty-some years, there would be many thousands more of
them.” Rhun indicated their luxurious surroundings. “They likely
would have taken all this away from you, and Londinium would now be
called by some harsh, guttural Saxon name.”

“True. Quite true.” Aurelius smiled. “That
is what I meant by Arthur slowing the tide.”

Rhun sat back. He didn’t like to be told
their cause was futile. But perhaps that wasn’t what Aurelius was
saying. He might mean only that Arthur and his Companions had
served their purpose, that this truce was a beginning of a future
where Saxon and British came together, rather than a continually
fighting each other.

Then he remembered Eastra. What would she
make of his comments? Her face was expressionless, but he could
sense her turmoil. Regret stabbed through him. He should not speak
so coldly of her people in front of her.

Suddenly, Calida giggled. Rhun looked around
and saw Bridei lean away from the young woman, trying to look
innocent. But Calida’s face was flushed and glowing, and it was
obvious Bridei had been saying teasing, flirtatious things to her.
Aurelius cleared his throat. “I think it’s time for the ladies to
retire.” He looked to his wife, Vesperia. She rose and motioned to
her daughters. Eastra also rose. She gave Rhun an uncertain look
then followed the other women out.

Aurelius gave a guffaw. “Bridei ap Maelgwn,
you sly, cunning-faced rogue—keep away from my daughter!”

Bridei grinned. “Merely some harmless
flirting. It might put a little flush in her cheeks and help
inspire some wealthy merchant to ask for her hand.”

Aurelius laughed loudly, and Rhun heaved a
sigh of relief.

* * *

Eastra sat down on the bed and began to pull
the pins out of her hair. A knock sounded at the door. She called
out, “come in.” Expecting Skena, she was surprised to see Calida
slip through the doorway.

The young woman stood there, her faced
flushed and her eyes bright. “I’m sorry to disturb you this late,
but I wanted to speak to you alone.” As Eastra regarded her with
curiosity, Calida took a deep breath. “I wanted to ask about the
dark-haired man, Bridei. He’s not your patron, is he?”

“Patron?” Eastra stared blankly, then
finally figured out what the young woman meant. “Oh, no.”

Calida came to sit on the bed beside her.
“Tell me about him. Does he have a lady or a wife back in his
homeland?”

“I don’t think so.”

“And he stands high in favor with Britain’s
Dux Bellorum?”

Again, Eastra was at a loss. Finally, she
grasped the term. “Oh, you mean Arthur. Aye, Arthur appears to be
pleased with Bridei. Otherwise he wouldn’t have trusted him with
guarding a hostage.” Eastra wanted to clap her hand over her mouth.
The fact that she was a hostage was obviously a sensitive matter,
and she didn’t want to betray Rhun’s trust. “That is, Arthur must
think highly of Bridei if he sends him to visit your father.”

Calida nodded eagerly. “That’s what I mean.
My father must approve of Bridei—if he is Arthur’s man.”

Eastra wondered what she was getting at.
“Why does it matter if your father approves of Bridei?”

Calida rose abruptly and began to pace.
“Because if Bridei asked for my hand, my father would not refuse
him.”

“If Bridei...” Eastra stared. “But you’ve
barely met him!”

“Yet he cares for me, I can tell.” Calida
gave a soft sigh.

Eastra didn’t know whether to be alarmed or
amused. The foolish young woman obviously thought Bridei’s casual
flirting meant much more. She gave Calida a stern look. “Now, look
here, you don’t even know Bridei. Although I don’t know him well
either, I’m acquainted with that kind of man. He’s the sort who
bestows smiles and fond glances on every comely woman he meets. It
means nothing, merely that he finds you attractive. It certainly
doesn’t mean he is going to offer for you. Indeed, I doubt very
much Bridei is looking for a wife.”

“How would you know?” Calida said pettishly.
“You are with his brother anyway, and a whore. How would you know
what he thinks?”

Eastra gritted her teeth, wanting to tell
this young woman she wasn’t a whore but a princess, and that as
such she didn’t have to waste her time giving advice to spoiled
Roman brats! But remembering Rhun and his worries, she answered
sweetly, “Well, since you have no regard for my opinion, perhaps
you should seek out your own bedchamber like a virtuous and dutiful
daughter.”

Calida’s face flushed and she flounced out
of the room. Eastra sighed. When she was around men, playing the
role of Rhun’s leman didn’t bother her. With women it was another
matter. But why should she care what Calida thought? The girl was
naive and foolish.

She turned her attention back to unsnarling
her hair with a fine-toothed bronze comb that had the design of a
sort of half-naked woman on the handle.

* * *

“What were you thinking?” Rhun demanded as
he and Bridei followed a servant through the outdoor peristyle to
the sleeping quarters. “Flirting with the daughter of our
ally—sometimes I think you have sawdust where your brains should
be!”

“There was no harm done. She’ll forget me in
a few days anyway.”

“That’s not the point! You should be
thinking of Arthur’s business here in Londinium, not making eyes at
young women!”

“I see no reason I can’t do both things,”
Bridei said stubbornly. “Do you think Aurelius took offense? Nay,
he did not. He probably wishes he could have me around the next
time he invites an appropriate suitor to his house, so I could
tease his whey-faced daughter and make her flush as prettily as she
did tonight. Women blossom with a little attention, and that maid
is about to wither on the vine.”

The servant stopped in front of a door and
nodded to Rhun. “This is your lady’s bedchamber.”

Rhun looked at the closed door and said “I’m
not quite ready to retire yet. I think I will join my brother for a
time.”

“As you wish.” The servant led them farther
down the covered outdoor corridor to another bedchamber. There, he
offered to fetch them some wine. Rhun declined the offer, and the
man bowed and left them.

“Eastra’s supposed to be your leman,” Bridei
said with a smirk as they entered the room. “Everyone will think it
odd if you don’t share her bed.”

“No one will know except the servants.” Rhun
regarded the one narrow bed. “I’ll take the floor. It should be
warm enough in this place. Jesu, did you ever see such a waste of
fuel? And it’s summer, even. Aurelius must be as wealthy as Croesus
to afford to keep lamps and braziers lit in every room!”

Bridei crossed to where their saddle packs
lay on the tiled floor. “You’ve endured the life of a rough army
camp so long you’ve forgotten how civilized people live. I must say
I admire Aurelius’s way of life. I could easily get used to it.” He
dug into his pack and pulled out a dark blue cloak. “But you won’t
have cause to sleep on the floor anyway, brother. I’m going out.”
He wrapped the garment around himself.

“Where?”

“I have some business to attend to.”

“More spying for Arthur?”

“Hardly. I’ve done my duty for tonight.”
Bridei grinned broadly. “My next assignation will be all for
pleasure.”

“A woman—you’re going to meet a woman!”

“Precisely.”

Rhun had a disturbing thought. “Not Calida.
Surely you’re not that foolish.”

“Nay, not Calida. I’ve never favored
simpering young maids. You should know I prefer my women
experienced. They’re more interesting that way. I get bored with
bedplay soon enough. I want someone I can talk to.”

“And you know a woman like that here in
Londinium?”

Bridei raised his dark brows. “I know
several.”

Rhun shook his head.

After his brother left, Rhun began to
undress. He’d taken off his tunic when there was a knock at the
door. Thinking that it was a servant, he quickly crossed the
chamber and opened the door.

Eastra stood there. She had taken down her
hair, but she still wore the stola. Her gaze took in his face, then
traveled down his body. Rhun didn’t speak. He couldn’t. There was
something in the way she looked at him. Worshipful. Adoring. He’d
never had a woman regard him quite like that before, and he was
acutely conscious of his naked torso. Indeed, it was almost as if
she had run her fingers down his chest, the way her gaze affected
him. He felt goose bumps on his skin and his nipples tighten.