The Dragon Prince (4 page)

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Authors: Mary Gillgannon

Tags: #family saga, #king arthur, #goddess, #historical romance, #dark age britain, #magic and fantasy, #celtic mysticism, #dragon of the island

BOOK: The Dragon Prince
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“Why did you think I was wed to him?”

“I could think of no other explanation for
your place in his household. I thought surely if you were his
daughter or niece, you would be wed and gone by now.” His mirth
faded. “Are you a widow? Is that why you live in Cerdic’s household
and serve his guests?”

She shook her head. “I am unwed.”

His expression grew puzzled, then he nodded
slowly. “Cerdic must value you a great deal, that he will let no
man take you to wife. My father is like that. I wonder when he will
ever let my sisters wed.”

Eastra looked at the ground. “You
misunderstand my circumstances. I think Cerdic would be pleased to
match me with one of his thanes, but none of them will have me, and
Cerdic would never let me marry a sokeman or serf.”

“Not have you? How can that be? You are by
far the most exquisite woman I have ever seen, among my people or
yours. Surely your father’s clients aren’t blind.”

“You forget.” She heard the bitterness in
her voice and, for once, did not try to hide it. “For five years I
was a British thrall. My people think I am defiled because of
it.”

His voice was tight. “Did you serve as your
master’s... concubine?”

“No! He never touched me! In truth, my
owners were not cruel. They treated me well, but like a servant, a
nithing.”
Her eyes stung with tears as she remembered the
feeling of being no more important than one of the hounds who slept
at Gaius’s hearth.

He reached out and touched her arm. “I’m
sorry. It pains me to know you suffered. I have thought many times
that rather than leaving you alone in the woods, I should have
taken you back to my father’s fortress in Gwynedd. But you would
have been a servant there as well, and it might have been no better
for you.”

She shook her head. “If you were there, it
would have been better. If I could have been with you, I would not
have cared that I was a slave.”

Their eyes met, and Eastra felt all the
years of longing and dreaming filling her until she could scarce
breathe. He was here, in front of her, her rescuer, her brave, kind
warrior. He was real and alive and even more beautiful than she
remembered. She wanted to throw herself into his arms, to have him
hold her not as a man holds a child, but as he holds a woman. She
wanted him to kiss her and caress and fill her body with his own
flesh.

The moment stretched on. She lost herself in
his eyes, their stormy blue-gray depths. She could not speak nor
move, only wait breathlessly, hoping he felt what she did, that he
wanted her as badly as she wanted him.

But then he stepped back, and his expression
grew anguished. “There can be no future for us. Cerdic would never
allow it. If we are found together, your uncle will use it as an
excuse to call off the truce.” He shook his head, and his eyes
glittered, as if with tears. “It’s enough that I have seen you, and
know you are alive and safe. I will carry this moment in my heart,
and it will content me the rest of my days.”

He turned away. Eastra took a great choking
breath. He could not leave her now. She could not bear it! She
reached out to touch him, then froze as she saw another man
standing in the shadows. A Briton. If they were caught, better it
be by his people.

Rhun spoke first. “Bridei, damn you, how
long have you been listening?”

The man smiled. He was startlingly handsome,
with hair as black as ebony, deep gentian blue eyes, and features
fine and graceful enough to be a woman’s. Abruptly, Eastra
recognized him as Arthur’s interpreter. “I’ve been here a while,”
he said. “Long enough to be quite intrigued.”

Rhun strode toward the man and took him
roughly by the arm. “You’re going to forget you ever saw us. She’s
Cerdic’s niece, not his wife, so there is no dishonor in my
speaking with her. But even so, none of the Saxons can know about
this. It would ruin everything.”

“Aye.” The man called Bridei still smiled, a
shrewd smile. “I suppose it would. Not the least of which is your
saintly reputation. Maybe your cock isn’t made of wood after
all.”

Rhun made a hissing sound through his teeth.
“Hold your tongue! She’s yet a maid!”

Bridei rolled his eyes. “Oh, aye, but for
how long with you around?”

Eastra would not have believed it, but
Rhun’s face grew red and he clenched his hands into fists. It
looked as if her gentle-natured warrior was on the verge of
pounding Bridei’s face into the dirt.

Bridei appeared unconcerned that he might be
attacked at any moment. He gave a cheery laugh. “Relax, brother,
I’ll not betray you. Oh, no, there is much more sport in keeping
your secret and watching how this tale turns out.”

Rhun glared at Bridei. Eastra said, “You are
brothers? I can’t credit it. You look nothing alike.”

At her words, Bridei raised his raven-dark
brows. “We’re as different as night and day. Rhun outdoes the
angels with his purity and goodness, while I possess neither
attribute. My brother is also chaste, dutiful, and serious, while
I...” He paused for emphasis and gave her a wicked grin. “I am
lewd, careless, and as lighthearted as a boy. Rhun wins the
admiration of warriors and kings, but who do you suppose the women
fancy?”

Eastra could not help herself. She laughed.
The fate of all of Britain and both their peoples might hang in the
balance, and yet this man jested.

Rhun frowned, and Eastra quickly quelled her
mirth. Bridei might be amusing, but it was his brother who held her
heart. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to anger you.”

Rhun shook his head. “Never could you anger
me. It’s not possible.”

The tension between them built once again.
It seemed they could not look away from each other, that their
souls were bound together like links forged in a chain.

Bridei broke the spell. “Well. As
fascinating as I find this tender tryst, I have to agree with Rhun.
Cerdic strikes me as a hot-tempered sort. If you were discovered
her, he would likely not be satisfied with cutting off my brother’s
balls and also try to divest me of mine. In the interest of all the
maidens who would be grievously affected by such a loss, I must
insist the two of you bid each other farewell, at least until the
morrow.”

Chapter 2

“Where did you meet
her?”
Bridei
asked as the two men started back to camp.

“None of your business,” Rhun retorted. His
insides churned as he thought of Eastra being enslaved. At least
she had survived and was now free and living among her countrymen.
Yet she did not seem happy. Her beautiful blue eyes had shone with
pain when she told him no Saxon would have her for a wife. Had he
saved her only to have her endure a life of misery?

“I could make it my business,” Bridei said.
“I’m sure Cador or any number of Arthur’s officers would be
interested to know you are acquainted with Cerdic’s niece.”

Rhun observed the canny expression on his
brother’s face and swore loudly. “Why must you always seek to make
trouble?” he demanded.

Bridei shrugged. “It’s more interesting that
way. Indeed, this whole matter is very intriguing. I saw how that
woman looked at you, as if you were some sort of god come to
life.”

“If you must know, I... helped Eastra when
she was a child.”

“Helped?”

“All right, I rescued her,” Rhun said
angrily. He didn’t think his brother would betray him, but he might
cause trouble in his relentless quest for the truth. It seemed
better to give him at least part of the story. “It was many years
ago, and I was young and impulsive. She was merely a child, of no
threat to anyone. I carried her out of the Saxon settlement we were
attacking and left her in the woods. Apparently, she was captured
and made a slave, so it’s hard to say if rescuing her was the
wisest course after all.”

“And ever since then, she has dreamed of
you, her noble hero.”

Rhun grimaced. Eastra’s obvious adoration
was disquieting. The worshipful expression on her face, the sense
she was willing to do almost anything for him, aroused feelings he
did not know how to deal with. Being so close to her lush, golden
beauty had conjured some very ignoble thoughts. He wanted to hold
her, to taste her full, rosy lips, to—

“I can guess what you’re thinking, brother,
and although she’s an exquisite woman, I doubt bedding her would be
worth having your ballocks cut off. Cerdic is a ruthless savage,
and she is, after all, his niece.”

“I was not—”

“Of course you were,” Bridei interrupted,
one dark brow cocked in amusement. “If you want this woman, you’re
going to have to arrange to meet her under some other
circumstances. While I care little enough for Arthur’s treaty, I do
feel an obligation to keep my older brother alive. After all, have
you not rescued
me
time and time again?”

Rhun gave a snort. Bridei attracted trouble
as a field of meadowsweet attracted bees. Almost since Bridei was a
baby toddling around their father’s fortress, Rhun had been getting
him out of scrapes. Bridei seemed to have an infallible sense of
how to infuriate their father, the famed warlord Maelgwn the Great.
Rhun was always arguing that Bridei was merely being playful and
mischievous, that he meant no real harm. But as the years passed
and Bridei failed to curb his careless, and often selfish behavior,
Rhun began to wonder if his brother was not somehow lacking in
moral character. There was always a cynical edge to his words, a
hint of malice in his teasing.

“Don’t worry, your assistance won’t be
necessary,” Rhun told him coldly. “I will have no more private
conversations with Princess Eastra. I’m simply relieved to discover
she is alive and safe.”

“Hmm. I don’t think this woman intends to
let you get away so easily.”

He glanced at his brother. The smug, mocking
look on Bridei’s face irritated him unbearably. “I’m going to meet
with Arthur and the others and discuss plans for tomorrow. You can
come or not.” He strode off briskly, not giving Bridei time to
answer.

It was a relief to take his place in the
circle of warriors as they sat around the fire eating the food
Cerdic had provided. Rhun heaved a sigh as he accepted a thick
chunk of boar meat. This was where he belonged, among Arthur’s
Companions. For over ten years he had fought alongside these men,
shared jests and wagers. He would not forget the common vision they
shared—to preserve Britain for their own people and to drive the
marauding Saxons back to the sea.

Of course, that vision was now altered. They
all knew in their heart of hearts there was no way to rid the land
of the invaders altogether. Some families in the settlements along
the Saxon Shore had already lived in Britain a generation or more.
There was no way to force them out now. Arthur and his men could
only hope to contain the invaders to the eastern and southern
fringes of the island, which was exactly what this treaty with
Cerdic was about.

Cador ap Cadwallon was speaking now. “The
only way to make certain Cerdic keeps his end of the bargain is to
take hostages. Only if he knows the lives of his countrymen hang in
the balance will he consider keeping the peace.”

“Hostages.” Arthur stroked his chin
thoughtfully.

“The hostages must be either from among
Cerdic’s trusted thanes or his personal household, someone whose
life he would be unwilling to sacrifice.”

The other men nodded at Cador’s words. Rhun
took a swallow of wine from the skin the men were passing around
and wiped his mouth. He tried to focus on the conversation as the
men began to discuss other aspects of the treaty—how much land they
would cede to Cerdic and whether the other Saxon leaders would
accept Cerdic as speaking for all of them—but his thoughts kept
wandering. Poor Eastra. The past years had scarred her. While her
ethereal beauty remained untouched, there was such pain in her
eyes. He wanted to help her, but knew he could not. Indeed, it
would be better if he never saw her again. Her allure was too
strong, too intense.

Odd, but he’d never felt this way about a
woman before. He’d shared his bed with several over the past years,
but usually discovered they cared not for him but for who he was.
As Maelgwn’s oldest son, he was heir to the kingdom of Gwynedd. And
as one of Arthur’s trusted officers, should their cause prevail, he
was likely to end up ruling other portions of Britain as well.
Although he’d never particularly aspired to be a king, he knew
strong leaders were necessary to bring peace. The difficult part
was the loneliness and the sense that people treated him
differently because of who he was. He had little interest in women
who sought to pleasure him in hopes of improving their own
status.

Of course, when he wed, it would be
primarily to form a political alliance. That was what marriage was
about for a prince. Even his father had married for the sake of
politics, although it had ended up being a love match. Knowing his
own destiny, Rhun knew he could not afford to be mooning over a
woman like Eastra.

He let out a sigh then sought to turn his
attention back to the business of Arthur’s council.

* * *

Eastra shifted restlessly on her straw
pallet, then rose and wrapped a shawl around her shift. Leaving her
bedchamber, she crept out into the courtyard of the abandoned Roman
villa that Cerdic had made his fortress. His men had used the
stones from the original buildings, combined with timber, to build
the palisade wall, and constructed a traditional longhouse where
the main dwelling had been, but much of the rest of the complex
they had left alone. The stonework around the longhouse was
crumbling, the vegetation overgrown and wild, but there were still
vestiges of the lovely garden that had once existed there. White
and yellow roses grew in profusion around a tumbled down wall, and
a plum tree bloomed next to the remains of a fountain, sending the
soft perfume of its blossoms into the night air.

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