They had barely entered the bedchamber and closed the door when Maelgwn drew her to him so hard the air left her chest. He grasped her hips with his hands and lifted her so her pelvis pressed against the hardness of his erection. "How would you like it today, Rhiannon? There must be some position we have not tried yet. Aye, I am sure there is."
Rhiannon nodded, too breathless to speak. It was all new to her, so overwhelmingly intense. At times she wondered if Maelgwn truly had stolen her soul. When he touched her body, she seemed to become a different person—a bold, sensuous woman, eager for every delight he could teach her.
He hiked up her gown so she was naked against him, then slid his fingers deep in the cleft between her legs. "Mmmmm," he moaned. "You spoil me. I no longer have to spend time arousing you. You are so eager and willing, if you are not careful I will grow lazy in my lovemaking. Aye, I do feel lazy," he added. "Perhaps today, I will let you do the work. I will let you pleasure me."
He released her gently, and she slid down his body, her legs so weak and trembly she could scarce stand. "The bed..." she gasped.
"Aye, we would be more comfortable in a bed, wouldn't we?"
He picked her up and carried her to the bed, then released her so she could sit down. She undressed hurriedly, her fingers shaking and clumsy. It took Maelgwn longer, as he had boots and trousers to unfasten, but at last he stood beautifully, gloriously naked. Rhiannon leaned toward him and traced the sleek lines of his muscles with her fingers, glorying in the hard, substantial planes of his body. She trailed her fingers down the broad expanse of his chest. The faint pattern of dark hair dwindled to a narrow line, then widened as she reached his groin. She glanced at Maelgwn's face, and saw his nostrils flare and his eyes narrow as she grasped his shaft in her fingers. She stroked him, applying all her skill to the warm, silky shape that filled her hand. Maelgwn closed his eyes and, half-smiling, moaned.
She found a rhythm and followed it. Maelgwn's face flushed and his mouth curved in dreamy pleasure. She watched with satisfaction as his breathing quickened and his body tensed in anticipation. Abruptly he reached out a hand to grasp hers. "I want to be inside you," he growled, his eyes like glimmering blue flames.
She nodded and moved onto the bed. He lay down beside her, then motioned her to climb astride him. "You ride this time, Rhiannon."
He was so big; she doubted for a moment whether he would fit. She positioned her body over his, then cried out as he thrust upwards, impaling her body with his. She paused, motionless, panting, overwhelmed by the explosion of feeling that throbbed through her. Maelgwn reached up to fondle her breasts, still smiling, but slit-eyed with passion.
"The view is beautiful. It amazes me that I did not think to try it before." He squeezed her nipples until her hips moved of their own accord, a slow, pulsing rhythm that stole her breath again, and made Maelgwn clutch her buttocks.
"Aye, cariad," he moaned, reaching up to sprawl his fingers in her hair. "Make the fire burn even hotter. You scald me now. Make me seethe with madness."
She used all her strength to rock to and fro, rubbing herself against him until sweat glowed upon her skin and her muscles trembled with the effort. Her head fell back, her long hair swept over his thighs. Maelgwn's hips met hers, pushing upwards, penetrating her even deeper. She shivered with the ecstasy of it. He grabbed her tightly and bucked against her, bouncing her furiously. Exhausted, Rhiannon sank down upon his sweaty chest, her whole body a rippling mass of rapture. Maelgwn still thrust inside her, touching her womb, her soul. Consciousness seeped from her, and she was lost, lost in a heaving world of darkness and light.
"Sweet Heaven!" Maelgwn's harsh cry roused her, and she pressed herself more tightly against his pounding heart. She soothed him, stroking his fevered brow, smoothing his thick, damp hair. This time it was she who cradled him, clutching him to her as she would an overwrought child.
At last his breathing slowed. He groaned once, then his eyes opened as he slipped out of her. "Perhaps it is true what they say about the dangers of taking a younger woman to wife. A few more times like that will slay me."
"You talk nonsense," she chided. "You are alive and strong even now. You are the one who seeks the heights of pleasure. I am content with only a little of your loving."
"You are a rare woman then," Maelgwn said with a faint smile. "Most women can easily outlast a man. It must be your red hair, cariad. For all your cool demeanor, you are a fiery lover. What an enchantress." His smile deepened. "You've certainly given me reason to finish my battles quickly. I will come home to you as soon as possible. I'm sure you can teach me a thousand pleasant ways to die in your arms."
Rhiannon buried her face against his chest, uncomfortable with his jest. While not a youth, Maelgwn appeared as strong and formidable as any man. She could not endure the thought of his dying. Now that Esylt was dead, Maelgwn was the only one who cared for her.
"Tell me of your battle plans." She smoothed her fingers over the sparse hair that darkened his skin. "Are you certain you are ready?"
Maelgwn laughed. "I've had two years to think strategy. I assure you, we are ready. We'll march along the coast and do battle with the coastal chieftains as we come to them. First, we will take on Rhodderi—he's been a thorn in my side for years. If he gives in without too much of a struggle, we'll move south to meet Maelgrith, Arwistyl and Cynan. By then, we will know if the mountain men support us or if we must subdue them as well."
"It sounds like many battles and much danger."
"Not really. I don't expect to meet each region's army in pitched battle. If one chieftain capitulates, the rest will follow. You know enough of war, Rhiannon, to understand that if a few strong chieftains decide to support me, my task will be easy. The first battles will count heavily, but with the Brigantes behind me, I don't see how we can lose."
Rhiannon watched him skeptically. Aye, she knew enough of war to know that a battle commander must appear confident no matter what the odds. She could not tell if Maelgwn truly thought this campaign would be easy, or if he only hoped it would be so.
"You plan to unite all of Gwynedd?"
"It is not so large a kingdom, only a small corner of Britain. My father did it, and my great-great-grandsire, Cunedag, controlled even more territory. At one time he ruled settlements from Catraith in the north to the black mountains in the south."
"I have heard of Cunedag. Gwenaseth said you and I were distantly related through him."
"If I counted all of Cunedag's spawn as kin, I could call most of the British princes 'cousin.' Cunedag was a very busy man, especially with the women. I imagine I have kin in Ireland and Brittany as well as the north."
"And you, my lord, have you sons scattered throughout your kingdom?"
Maelgwn looked surprised for a moment, then a look of sadness crossed his face.
"Nay, I have no offspring that I know of. There was the babe with Aurora that was born dead and another born to a servant girl that did not live much longer." He sighed regretfully. "It has bothered me sometimes. My father had five healthy sons by my mother and numerous bastards, but my seed does not seem to take so easily. I must be with a woman often to get her with child."
Rhiannon rubbed her palm across her husband's rough cheek, relieved by his words. If Maelgwn believed he must lie with her regularly for her to conceive, he would be less likely to stray from her bed. It was welcome news. Having learned to enjoy Maelgwn's attentions, she had no desire to share them with other women.
"And your father's other offspring—they are all dead?" she asked, still stroking his face.
"As far as I know. No one has come forward to make a claim since I became king. The last of my kin died a year ago."
Rhiannon's fingers stilled as she realized Maelgwn spoke of Esylt. She glanced down at his face, searching for a hint of his mood. The pensive look in his eyes heartened her. Perhaps Gwenaseth had overstated Maelgwn's harsh feelings toward his sister.
"Did you have any sisters?" she coaxed
, beginning to smooth Maelgwn's thick, wavy hair.
"One. She died last winter. We were not close."
She watched his face intently. Did she dare to ask him about Esylt? For all his animosity toward his sister, surely he could not hate her as much now that she was dead.
"It's strange what one remembers about the dead, isn't it?" she began softly, still twining her fingers in his hair. "I'm sure you can recall happy times with your sister, perhaps childhood memories..."
Rhiannon's voice trailed off as Maelgwn jerked upwards. His face flushed. "Esylt be damned! I'm glad she is gone. I hope she is in hell now, paying for what she did to me. My sister betrayed me, she sought to destroy everything I loved!"
Rhiannon leaned away from Maelgwn, startled by his vehement response. She had never seen him so angry, and it frightened her. Even so, she felt the need to soothe him, to let him know that Esylt eventually regretted what she had done to him. "Perhaps you misunderstood your sister's intentions," she whispered. "Perhaps she did not really mean you ill."
Maelgwn's eyes narrowed. "You do not know the story, do you? Of course not. Ferdic would not think to tell you how he and my treacherous sister plotted to wrest away my kingdom."
Rhiannon flinched. She should not have pursued the subject. Gwenaseth was right. Maelgwn's hatred for his sister was all-consuming. He would never listen to anything said to defend her.
"I will tell you the story." Maelgwn sat up against the back of the bed. His expression was harsh and controlled. Only the movement of his fingers twisting a piece of the blanket into shreds revealed his banked-down fury.
"In the fall of the year I married Aurora, Ferdic's father, Cunedda, your grandfather, asked me to come to his aid against the Picts. Cunedda and I were allies, so I went to Manau Gotodin and helped him chase after an elusive enemy who refused to meet us in battle." Maelgwn looked up, his eyes glinting with bitterness. "Meanwhile, Gywrtheyrn, a chieftain to the east, gathered a huge army and prepared to invade Gwynedd. If Aurora had not warned me, I would have returned to find my people conquered and my kingdom destroyed. But Aurora sent me a message warning that there were rumors I was soon to be brought down by treachery. When I returned, I found the source of the rumors—my sister's lover. Esylt had bragged to him of her plot to see me ruined. She planned it all with Gwyrtheyrn and Ferdic."
Rhiannon held her breath. The look on Maelgwn's face was one of helpless pain. Esylt's betrayal had angered him and hurt him deeply.
Maelgwn turned away suddenly, as if guessing she read his expression too clearly. He retrieved his tunic from the floor, then shrugged it on over his shoulders. "It was a very complicated plot," he continued. "The raids in Manau Gotodin were not really carried out by the Picts, but by Ferdic and his men. Ferdic used it as an excuse to take part of Cunedda's army north, allegedly to fight the Picts. His real scheme was to gain control of his father's lands and set himself up as king of the Brigantes. My involvement was meant to distract Cunedda from what was happening until it was too late. With me and much of my army in the north, Gwyrtheyrn thought to easily take over my lands. Ferdic, Gwyrtheyrn, my sister—they planned this together. They meant to divide Gwynedd between them.
"But they failed," Maelgwn continued coldly, "After receiving Aurora's message, I returned to Gwynedd and gathered my army. We marched east and met Gwyrtheyrn in battle in the lowlands. It was a bloodbath. I lost many men—warriors I've never replaced. Gwyrtheyrn was killed and the plot thwarted. Cunedda, too, took warning from Aurora's message. He went north to confront his son, and Ferdic and the rest of the usurpers fled into the wild forest."
Maelgwn leaned back against the bed again and sighed heavily. "In the end, Cunedda was unwilling to punish his son. He took Ferdic back among his warriors, and when Cunedda died of a fever two years later, Ferdic became king. I suspect that you, living with Ferdic's mother, never heard what your father had tried to do."
Maelgwn was silent, lost in thought. Rhiannon leaned toward him. This tale of Ferdic's treachery did not surprise her, and Gwenaseth had warned her about Esylt's betrayal. Still, she had many questions. "You're sure of Esylt's part in the plot?" she asked. "It seems Gwyrtheyrn and my father were the true villains."
Maelgwn's eyes flicked to hers. "I am sure. They could not have planned this without Esylt's help, and she bragged of my impending defeat to her lover."
"The man could have lied."
Maelgwn shook his head. "He knew I intended to kill him. He would have gained nothing by lying. Besides, Esylt acted guilty enough. Even as I marched toward the battle with Gwyrtheyrn, she fled north and joined up with Ferdic."
"But why did she do it?" Rhiannon pressed. "Her betrayal makes little sense. Ferdic and Gwyrtheyrn would never have given Esylt—a woman—any real power."
"She did it because she hated Aurora!" Maelgwn's voice shook. "Once Esylt knew I meant to honor a foreign woman as my wife, she made up her mind to destroy me."
Rhiannon considered Maelgwn's agonized explanation for his sister's actions. It was true Esylt despised Aurora, but she would not have used that as a reason to ruin her beloved brother. There had to be some other motivation for Esylt's traitorous actions. What it was, Rhiannon could not guess.
Maelgwn gave her a probing look. "You're naturally kind-hearted, Rhiannon, and I suspect it is your nature to make excuses for the failings of others. But you can make no excuse for Esylt. She was evil, pure and simple."
Rhiannon opened her mouth to protest. Maelgwn raised his hand to her lips and silenced her. "Esylt was exactly like my mother. Neither one of them could ever think of anything or anyone but themselves. Their hunger for power was a poison that ate away their souls. I thought at one time I was like them, that I was cursed as they were. I feared the evil would eat me up as it did them."
Rhiannon reached for his fingers and kissed them. "Do not say such things, my husband. You are a good man, a good king. You are not cursed."
Maelgwn gave her a haunted look. "Sometimes I wonder if the reason I have not sired any living children is because my seed is meant to die out, and the evil perish with it."
Rhiannon tried to suppress the shiver Maelgwn's words sent through her. What darkness her husband carried in his heart. There was a kind of madness in the way he hated Esylt. Gwenaseth was right. If he ever found out what Esylt had meant to her, Maelgwn would hate her as well.
Maelgwn reacted quickly to her shudder. "Ah, Rhiannon, I didn't mean to frighten you. If you bear my children, I'm sure they will not be cursed." He reached out and touched her cheek fondly. "You are so pure and innocent. Perhaps your sweetness will purge the sin of my family. I see nothing in you of Ferdic... no greed or maliciousness. Whoever your mother was, she must have been a kind, gentle woman."
Rhiannon pulled away from his caressing fingers. "I am not pure," she said stiffly.
"What?" Maelgwn stared at her, then his eyes slowly registered understanding. "Oh, that. I care not about the innocence of your body, Rhiannon. It is the purity of your spirit I admire. I can look into your eyes and know you have no malice in you." He pulled her down to lay against his chest.
Rhiannon allowed him to hold her close, but her heart still raced. The secret of her relationship to Esylt weighed heavily on her mind. Could she keep it from him? If she did, what sort of trust could there ever be between them?
Maelgwn sensed her lingering unhappiness. "What's wrong, Rhiannon?" he asked. "Did I frighten you with my talk of a curse?"
"Your anger frightens me," she whispered against his chest. "Your unwillingness to forget the past, to forgive."
Maelgwn lifted her up so he could gaze into her face. His eyes were gentle, reassuring. "Lovely Rhian, I'm sure you will never do anything I cannot forgive. There will be times when we argue, but all husbands and wives do that. My temper is fierce, I know, but usually I get over my moods quickly."
"But what of...?" Rhiannon hesitated, unable to say Esylt's name. Maelgwn's tender mood vanished, as if the mere thought of his sist
er afflicted him with rage. He shook his head grimly, his jaw clenched in bitterness. "The Christian priests say it is blessed to forgive, but I cannot. I have no doubt I will go to my grave cursing Esylt."
He glanced at Rhiannon, visibly making an effort to shake off his vindictive mood. His heartbreakingly blue and compelling eyes met hers, and he reached to touch her hair. "Speak of it no more. I don't want the demons of my past to ruin my chance for a new beginning with you."
His hand moved down her back, slowly, thoughtfully. Rhiannon laid her head on his chest, struggling to relax, but unable to repress one final tremble of foreboding. Maelgwn felt it and moved his hand lower along her spine. As he stroked the curve of her buttocks, he urged his hips upwards so his swollen shaft once more pressed against her.
"Make me forget, Rhiannon, one more time. Make me forget the past, and I will do the same for you."
Chapter 11
Rhiannon examined the dark blue tunic spread across her lap, gazing in satisfaction at the embroidery encircling the neck. No one could deny she was skilled at needlework. Even her inattentive father had recognized her abilities. She had seen only thirteen winters when Ferdic made her responsible for sewing his ceremonial clothes.
Her fingers stroked the complex twining pattern of leaves and serpents she had fashioned to decorate the luxurious garment. The design was slightly different from anything she had ever done before. She hoped Maelgwn would be pleased with it. At any rate, with winter arriving shortly, he could use another heavy tunic.
Rhiannon heard Gwenaseth's voice outside the weaving room and stood. A sigh of consternation escaped her lips, and she hurriedly put aside the tunic and replaced the precious iron needle in a leather case inside her basket of sewing supplies. Lady Gwenaseth always seemed displeased to find her in the weaving room. What did Gwenaseth expect? Did she really want Rhiannon to attempt to run Maelgwn's fortress—even though she had no training in such things and no skill in ordering people around?
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