Dragon's Dream

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Dragon's Dream Page 13

by Mary Gillgannon


  Rhiannon let herself into the bedchamber with a deep sigh. It was agony to love. Why had Maelgwn done this to her? Why had he made her love him?

  "Rhiannon?"

  She feigned sleep as she heard Maelgwn's heavy step on the stone floor, tensing as the ropes supporting the mattress creaked with his weight as he sat down on the bed.

  "Rhiannon, are you asleep?"

  She heard him sigh softly, then stand up and begin to undress. She thought of his beautiful body—his strong, regal neck, the hard muscles in his arms and legs, his splendid shoulders. She wanted him, but she also wanted desperately not to want him.

  The bed groaned again, and Rhiannon felt Maelgwn's body next to hers. She willed him to go to sleep.

  A strong arm reached out and pulled her close. Maelgwn felt warm, almost hot. His fingers caressed her slowly, tugging lazily at the linen shift she wore.

  "I'm home, Rhiannon. There is no reason for you to wear clothes to bed. I would have you naked."

  She had no choice but to obey him. She squirmed away to pull the shift over her head, barely finishing undressing before he grasped her tightly and pulled her against his own hot nakedness.

  "I know we should talk, but I have waited for this... for so long... so many weeks." His voice was muffled, husky, caressing her ears as his hands caressed her body. She could feel the fire burning, the fire Maelgwn awakened in her. She wanted to push him away, to cry out. It was not fair that he could do this to her, to make her want him so badly. She ached for it, for their joining. She felt his erection, hard and demanding against her belly, then his mouth, sweet and slow, devouring her. He kissed her face, her neck, her breasts, then suckled her so fiercely she cried out.

  "That's right—moan for me," he whispered.

  Maelgwn's fingers eased between her legs and gently probed. Rhiannon arched her back, melting into the delicious sensation. What did she care if Maelgwn loved her? As long as he touched her like this, she was content. She spread her legs and pulled Maelgwn to her. Savoring the maleness of him, she stroked his smooth chest and shoulders, then ran her hands down his back to his buttocks. She tightened her embrace until Maelgwn maneuvered himself inside her. She moaned again. She had forgotten what it was like, such sharp, painful pleasure. She began to writhe, her fears forgotten as she heaved and shuddered in ecstasy.

  "Rhiannon."

  His voice was as soft and mellow as the night air drifting in through the window. Rhiannon closed her eyes more tightly and did not answer.

  "Rhiannon?"

  She heard him sigh, then murmur as if to himself: "We need to talk, cariad, we really do." Maelgwn rolled sideways from her, stretching out on his back.

  Rhiannon stiffened. She did not want to hear Maelgwn's words of tenderness, of reassurance. She must learn to take what he gave and want no more, and his words stirred dreams within her that could never come to pass. Maelgwn shifted position on the bed, and Rhiannon waited anxiously until his breathing grew even and deep.

  Somewhere outside, a bird sang a heartbreakingly lovely song. Rhiannon stared into the darkness, wide awake.

  Chapter 12

  "Maelgwn!"

  He turned to see Gwenaseth running toward him with a determined look on her face.

  "I must talk to you about Rhun," she said.

  "What about him."

  "Have you given any thought as to who will look after him?"

  Maelgwn shrugged. "I expect he will sleep with the other unmarried soldiers in the barracks."

  "Maelgwn, he's a boy! Those coarse, foul-mouthed men aren't proper companions for a child. Who's going to see that he takes a bath occasionally, that he combs his hair and wears a clean tunic?"

  "I'll have Balyn or Gareth keep an eye on him."

  "It's not the same. He's used to having his mother around. He's always had a woman care for him."

  "Well, his mother isn't here, and he's too young for a wife, so what do you suggest?"

  Gwenaseth's mouth twitched. "Don't be exasperating! Obviously, you should appoint someone to look after him—and I don't mean me. I have enough to worry about with my own children."

  "I could ask Rhiannon."

  "Of course you should. She's his stepmother now. Besides, she seems to have taken a liking to him. Although I doubt she has the authority to keep a strong-willed young boy in line."

  "I'm sure she'll manage. Anyway, Rhun will be spending most of his time at his lessons with Father Leichan or training with me." Maelgwn turned to leave.

  Gwenaseth stopped him with a hand on his arm. "There's another thing I wanted to mention."

  "Of course there is," Maelgwn said resignedly.

  "I feel I have to say something about Morganna."

  "What about her?"

  "I really don't think it's proper for you to have brought her to live so close to Degannwy."

  Maelgwn tried to keep his voice calm and reasonable. "Look, Gwen, I know you never liked Morganna, but you must admit it would be cruel of me to take Rhun away from his mother completely. As you said, he's only a boy. It'll do him good to visit Morganna now and then."

  "But think of Rhiannon, Maelgwn. She's barely been wedded to you one sun-season. Now she must accept your former mistress living a half-day's walk from Degannwy."

  "There's no need for her to know."

  "Don't be pigheaded, Maelgwn! Even if you don't tell her, Rhiannon will find out just the same. The gossip about Morganna is everywhere, running like wildfire through the fortress. Rhiannon's not deaf; she's certain to overhear something. When she does, she's bound to be angry. It might well sour the goodwill growing between her and Rhun."

  Maelgwn weighed Gwenaseth's words carefully. Although he doubted Rhiannon would react with anger, he had not considered that she might resent Rhun. If Rhiannon had a son, it would be tricky enough to keep the two boys from being rivals. He did not need to sow seeds of dissension so early on.

  "You are right, as usual," he answered. "But tell me, Gwenaseth—what is your answer for me this time? I have promised Morganna and Rhun, and I can't go back on my word. I don't intend to seek Morganna's bed, if that's what you're worried about. But I can't send her away, either."

  Gwenaseth's small jaw set stubbornly. "If you're determined to bring that whore here..."

  "Morganna is not a whore!"

  "Oh, no. Certainly not." Gwenaseth's voice was harsh with sarcasm. "You gave Morganna grain and wine and jewels now and then, but it was surely never payment for her favors."

  "Damn you, Gwenaseth, you hate her because of Aurora."

  "Aye, I do. It near broke Aurora's heart when she found out you were seeing another woman."

  "That's a lie! I never bedded Morganna after I married Aurora."

  "Aurora thought you did, and that's what matters."

  Maelgwn clenched his fists in frustration. "Do you expect me to regret bedding Morganna? Because of one of those nights, I have Rhun. Sweet Aurora, bless her soul, did not live to give me a son, but Morganna has. I think I owe her something for that."

  Gwenaseth's eyes narrowed. "Stubborn and so sure of yourself—the priory did not change you, Maelgwn, not one whit. You're obviously not going to listen to me, so I'll stop wasting my breath."

  Gwenaseth turned and stormed off. Maelgwn, his own temper flaring, resisted the urge to call her back. She was right, but that did not make his dilemma any easier to resolve. Morganna had played on his guilt at taking her son away. Now he would pay for his weakness. He had allowed his joy in finding Rhun to blind him to the consequences of the promises he made, but consequences there would surely be.

  Rhiannon, he thought with a sharp stab of guilt. He had to explain.

  "Taffee! Where's Rhiannon?"

  "I wouldn't know, my lord. I haven't seen her since this morning."

  Maelgwn met the servant's insolent stare. "Help me, Taffee. I've already looked in the weaving room, the kitchen and the bakehouse. Where else might she be?"

  "Mayhap she left the fortress. She
does that, you know— disappears for hours into the forest or down the coast."

  "Alone?" Maelgwn asked in a shocked voice.

  "Aye, alone. Who would go with her?"

  Maelgwn gave Taffee an incredulous look and strode off toward the gate. "Eleri!" he bellowed up at the guard. "Get down here."

  "Where's Rhiannon?" he demanded when the nervous sentry reached him.

  "She went for a walk. She promised not to go far, no more than a short ways into the forest."

  "A short ways! It takes little time for a woman to be hurt or abducted. Rhiannon is my queen. She must always be guarded. At the very least a boy should accompany her, and if she goes very far, a footsoldier."

  Eleri flushed. "Aye, my lord. I had not thought of her being abducted. I see now that she needs better protection." He shrugged sheepishly. "I'm afraid it is hard to remember Rhiannon is queen. She is so shy and quiet, and she talks to everyone in the same soft voice and acts as if she were no one special..." Eleri's voice trailed off as he realized he was blundering further. The king was already angry. It was probably unwise to suggest that his new wife behaved less than royally.

  To Eleri's surprise, Maelgwn's anger seemed to ease. "You are right," he said thoughtfully. "It is easy to overlook Rhiannon. I do it myself sometimes."

  "Ho, Maelgwn! Why are you chastising this young soldier? Your morning might be better spent thinking up ways to entertain your guests."

  Maelgwn turned and smiled at the handsome, redheaded soldier who accosted him. Gavran was commander of the Brigante forces. He and Maelgwn had grown surprisingly friendly over the summer campaign. Gavran could be as jovial and mocking as Ferdic, but somehow his good humor was not nearly as aggravating. There did not seem to be any malice behind his teasing wit and ready grin.

  "What? Have you already bedded all the wenches in the fortress and lost your booty gambling with my men? You northern savages are amazing. I had expected those pursuits to keep you busy for at least a fortnight."

  "Oh, I've found a few women who please me, but I must let them get their rest or they'll never be able to handle me tonight. As for the gaming—it's only fair that I give your men a day of respite from my skill. I don't want to be blamed for breaking up marriages when the Cymry wives realize all their baubles and jewels have been lost to me."

  Gavran gestured toward the fortress gate and continued, "I do have the urge to see more of the country here though. Perhaps do some scouting for a hunting trip before we return home. I don't suppose your game here compares to that of the northern forests, but it might make for decent sport."

  "They say a twelve-point buck was spotted just a few days ago. Do you think that worthy enough quarry for a mighty hunter such as yourself?"

  Gavran whistled. "Twelve points, eh? Aye, that might tempt me. When can we have a look?"

  "I was thinking of going out to the forest this morning, although I had other prey in mind. It seems Rhiannon has gone off to the woods by herself." Maelgwn's face grew grim. "I'm not so secure in my kingship of Gwynedd that I mean to let my wife wander unescorted."

  "Don't worry overmuch about Rhiannon," Gavran answered as the two men fell into step on the muddy pathway leading from Degannwy. "It's not likely that anyone could sneak up on her in the woods. She grew up in the forest, and she's spent as much time there as any hunter. She can creep among the trees and hide in the bushes like a wild thing. Ferdic used to tease her that she was a wood fairy instead of a girl. It made her flush very prettily when he called her that."

  "Wood fairy! You might reassure me if I believed in magic and enchantments. However, I don't, and the idea of Rhiannon facing an enemy alone in the woods with no more than her wits and fleet little feet fills me with dread."

  "Perhaps she could put a spell on them before she ran," Gavran answered lightly. "Rhiannon was very nearly apprenticed to our bard and magician. She spent hours with him, helping him gather plants and listening to his talk of spirits and spells. Surely he at least taught her how to turn men into toads. You might keep that in mind and do your best not to anger her, Maelgwn."

  "Cease your jesting, Gavran. You don't really mean to tell me that Rhiannon trained to be a sorceress."

  "May Lludd strike me down if I'm lying. Sorceress may not be the right word, but Rhiannon must have learned some craft in all her time with Llewenon. No doubt she would have learned more if Ferdic hadn't sent Llewenon away. Strange business that. No one ever knew what Llewenon did to offend the king. He simply disappeared one day, and Ferdic forbade anyone to speak of him. It was a loss for the tribe. Llewenon wasn't much of a healer, but he was a fine bard. He had a real silver tongue."

  "Jupiter, I don't know my wife at all!" Maelgwn gave Gavran a startled look. "I never dreamed Rhiannon dabbled in the magic arts."

  "The old ways are still strong in the north. Every tribe has a healer or two, someone who knows how to use plants and potions to aid in healing, to set bones and clean wounds. Very often those wise ones also claim to be able to predict the weather, to protect the tribe from evil influences or to cast spells that make men fall in love or behave heroically in battle. I wouldn't let Rhiannon's training bother you," Gavran continued with a brief shrug. "She's too kind a soul to use her knowledge for anything evil. She'd likely never use anything on you worse than a love potion."

  "I'm not worried, only curious." Maelgwn frowned. "Most women have secrets, but Rhiannon is a virtual treasure trove of them."

  Rhiannon shuffled her feet among the dry leaves, wondering why she could not find the peace and contentment the forest usually brought her. As much as she longed to forget Degannwy and Maelgwn and all her troubles, her worries pursued her even here. She could not escape the dull ache of jealousy that nagged at her like a sore tooth.

  Stopping, she sighed. She had let down her guard and allowed herself to think she could mean something to Maelgwn. She had dared to believe in dreams, to indulge her naive fancies. Now she would pay for her foolishness.

  A slight sound in the distance made Rhiannon tense. She should go back. She had promised the guard she would not go far, but she could not bear to return to the fortress yet, to endure the looks of pity in the other women's eyes, the whispering behind her back. No doubt they all wondered what she would do about Rhun's mother, and if there would be trouble between her and Maelgwn over his mistress. Rhiannon took another step down the path away from the fortress. She was not ready to return to Degannwy. She might never be ready.

  Wandering on, she listened to the birds, trying to pick out familiar voices and give them names. She studied the ground, watching the colorful leaves tremble in the autumn breeze, noting the location of different herbs she knew. She came upon a bush of blackthorn berries and picked one and ate it, relishing the tartness. It was the taste of fall—bittersweet and poignant.

  Rhiannon walked until she reached a small clearing where the sunlight shone in dancing patterns through the thinning yellow poplar leaves. She sat down among the leaves and gathered some in her skirt. Tossing bunches of them up in the air, she watched them fall and whirl away in the breeze. The idle act seemed to lighten her heart. She had not played like this in months.

  "Rhiannon!"

  The call came faint and far away, but the voice was unmistakable. Rhiannon stood up quickly.

  "Maelgwn, I am here," she answered as loudly as she could.

  There was silence, then a vague rustling sound in the distance. In a few moments, Maelgwn appeared next to her. She jumped slightly in surprise.

  "You see," Maelgwn said with a smug smile. "You are not the only one who can move soundlessly in the forest."

  "What's wrong? Why did you call for me?"

  Maelgwn's smile disappeared. "You should not be walking in the forest alone. In the future, you may not leave the fortress without an escort."

  Rhiannon stared at her husband in dismay. How could he do this to her? If she could not seek out the solace of the woods, she would never be able to endure her life at Degannwy. She
opened her mouth to protest. Before she could speak, they both turned at the sound of someone else approaching.

  "Maelgwn, I see you've found your wood fairy after all," Gavran announced jovially as he entered the clearing. "And she hasn't turned you into a toad yet."

  "She hasn't had a chance," Maelgwn responded.

  Rhiannon looked from one man to the other, baffled by their banter. She nodded to Gavran, then turned as if to leave. "I must be getting back. I..."

  "What did I just say, Rhiannon?" Maelgwn barked, his face grim. "I told you that you must not go walking in the woods alone."

  Rhiannon froze at his sharp words. She was unused to Maelgwn directing his anger at her, and it especially upset her that he displayed it in front of her countryman. She fought to make her voice meek, to stifle her resentment. "I'm sorry, my lord. I am accustomed to coming and going as I please. It is hard to remember I must be escorted. I will try to remember your wishes in the future."

  She waited stiffly, expecting Maelgwn to take her arm and escort her back to Degannwy. Instead, he gestured to Gavran dismissively. "You're welcome to scout for the stag," he told the Brigante man. "I've found my quarry here." His eyes shifted over Rhiannon thoughtfully. "If I don't blunder about and scare her away for good, that is."

  Gavran smiled broadly. "I'll leave you to your wood fairy then. Remember to watch out for spells and enchantments. I'd hate to go back and report that the Cymry king has been carried away to fairy land."

  Gavran walked off noisily, likely scaring any game for miles, Rhiannon thought. Maelgwn moved toward her, his face intense. Rhiannon struggled not to flinch, to control her shallow breathing. For all his hot temper, Ferdic had never struck her. But her father's anger was mostly loud bluster, while Maelgwn's temper was rumored to be as quick and devastating as lightning. She watched her husband uneasily, trying to gauge if he meant to beat her. If he intended violence, she would not bear it meekly, but try to run before he could land a blow. She felt sure she could escape him in the woods.

 

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