“Ah, but you have no freckles, Lady Aurora, and I envy you your smooth, creamy skin. Anyway, I think Maelgwn must have chosen you because of your unique beauty. I’m sure there is no other woman in Gwynedd who looks like you.”
“I have no illusions as to my charms for Maelgwn. He chose me because my father is rich and he wanted to control him. Anyway, it doesn’t matter, Maelgwn has made a bargain with my father, and now he will have to live with it. It matters little to me if I please him.”
“You must not say things like that. He is your husband!” Gwenaseth looked at Aurora with a shocked expression. “Do you mean you didn’t want to marry Maelgwn?”
Aurora laughed grimly. “Indeed, I didn’t want to marry him. I think perhaps I hate him.”
Gwenaseth stopped combing Aurora’s hair and looked absently at her own hands. “You shouldn’t be telling me these things, Aurora,” she chided softly. “Maelgwn is my king.”
“I don’t care! I do hate him. He has no concern for my feelings at all. He let his sister humiliate me and spoke no word to stop her. He treats me like a slave girl, seeks only my body in bed...” Tears were filling Aurora’s eyes, and she stopped to catch her breath, sniffing slightly and looking away from Gwenaseth’s awestruck face.
“Hush,” Gwenaseth whispered, putting an awkward, consoling arm around her. “I’m sure you are mistaken about Maelgwn. He seemed so proud of you when he spoke to me. You must remember that the king has never had a wife before, or even a woman he was close to. I’m sure he just does not know how to show his feelings for you.”
Aurora shook her head. She dared not speak, or the humiliating tears would come.
“At any rate.” Gwenaseth stood up briskly. “I must go get ready myself. I will return in a little while to help you dress.” She turned at the door and gazed at Aurora with a thoughtful, rather calculating look. “Remember, Aurora, you must go to the feast with your head held high and proud. It would never do for Esylt to know she had succeeded in hurting you.”
Aurora nodded to herself as Gwenaseth left. Aye, Gwenaseth was right. She could not give her enemy the pleasure of knowing how deeply her words had cut. She crossed the small room and began to search among the tumble of baskets and chests until she found a bronze mirror. She held it up and gazed at her reflection critically.
For most of her life, she had cared little how she looked. It was too much trouble, and she never felt as though she could compete with her beautiful older sisters. But now she did care. Tonight, she was going to meet the people of her new land for the first time and she wanted them to be impressed. She frowned as she looked at her reflection. Her eyebrows were striking, her eyelashes long and dark, her skin smooth and glowing. But her lips were clearly too full and her nostrils flared too much. Her newly washed hair seemed wild and messy, and she did not know how to fix it, except to wear it long and loose. Still, with her bright dress and her best jewelry, she thought she could manage. Tonight she must pass for a princess, an elegant royal princess of the Cornovii.
Chapter 11
If he did not have to pay this visit to his sister, Maelgwn thought, he would have been in a very good mood. His army was home, safe and successful. His people were content, and he had even found a maid for his wife. But there was this one last bit of unpleasantness left to attend to.
Maelgwn braced himself for the confrontation. He was tired of Esylt’s interference, but he had to remember that she was just a woman. She had no other way to make herself important, and so she caused these petty problems that he was left to resolve. But this rudeness to Aurora—he could not allow that. Esylt would have to realize she must leave Aurora alone.
He found Esylt supervising in the large kitchen behind the great hall. He motioned to her, and she followed him to a secluded corner so they could talk privately.
She was still a good-looking woman, and he knew that she easily found lovers from among the unmarried soldiers. He had tried to arrange advantageous marriages for her, but she had always refused. She said she did not want any foul-breathed, grunting old man as her master. Now she faced him with her head held high, her jaw set with determination.
“Esylt,” Maelgwn began sternly. “I won’t tolerate it if you harass Aurora or frighten her.”
She sniffed contemptuously. “Why should you care? After all, she is just a hostage to keep Constantine under control.”
“No. She is not just a hostage. She is my queen, and I expect everyone at Caer Eryri to treat her with the respect due my wife—and that includes you!”
“Are you serious? You intend to keep her at your side and share your bed with that sniveling little bitch?”
“Indeed, I must lie with her if I am to have an heir someday,” answered Maelgwn dryly.
“You plan to have children with her? You would dilute the ancient royal line of Cunedag with her mongrel blood. What is she—part Roman, part Saxon whore?”
“She is as British as any of us,” Maelgwn answered coldly. “I could hardly wed a Cymru girl. As king, I had to marry a woman who brought a dowry of wealth and power to Gwynedd. Through this marriage I gained control of the rich lowlands to the east with very little trouble.”
“You could have burned Viroconium to the ground and taken your precious wife as a slave, according to many of the soldiers I talked to. Constantine is so weak he could not raise an army to fight off a group of children!” Esylt’s voice was heavy with sarcasm, and her arrogant features were contorted in scorn. “There was no need to make this lopsided match. With Constantine’s loyalty you get his kingdom to plunder, but you must also protect a weak and ineffectual ruler from others who would seek his wealth too.”
Maelgwn’s eyes were dangerous as he faced his sister down. “Did you think I could just burn Viroconium and take their gold and jewels? What good would that do me? We have no people to settle the lands or rebuild the town. The rich green fields would lie empty for want of people to tend them, the shops decay for lack of craftsmen to use them. The Cymru can’t eat gold. Constantine’s wealth is in the rich harvest his people reap and the craftsmen I have brought back who still know the old techniques of the Romans. I need Constantine’s loyalty if this campaign is to do more than enrich us for a single season.”
Esylt’s full lips curled into an ugly snarl. “You always avoided fighting, Maelgwn, even as a child. There is always some excuse to seek peace, compromise, alliances. They call you the Dragon of the Island. What a joke that is! If only they knew that Maelgwn the Great has about as much courage as a newt in a hilltop puddle!”
Maelgwn had had enough. He stormed out of the kitchen, terrifying the servants and slaves who had the ill luck to be in his pathway. The walk across the courtyard cooled his temper some, but as he climbed the stairs to his chamber, he was still shaking with anger. Esylt had a way of twisting his successes around and making them seem like failures. She had always done it—at least since Dinas Brenin. It was obviously her way of getting back at him for no longer being the uncertain boy she could control. Still, her nasty taunts haunted him. Had he been too generous with Constantine? He was counting on his marriage to Aurora to keep Constantine from turning traitor as soon as his troops left, and he had left his new ally without even a garrison to make certain of his loyalty. Was it a mistake? Showing weakness might make his enemies decide that the time was right to take him down.
Maelgwn was so preoccupied, he almost ran into Aurora as she came out the door of the tower chamber. The queen looked exquisite, and the scent of her freshly perfumed skin distracted Maelgwn from his worries. Gwenaseth was sorting things and putting them away in the room, and she looked up in time to warn him away.
“Nah, nah. You must not muss her dress or hair,” she chided, “Does she not look like a vision though?”
“Aye,” Maelgwn said with a smile. “Would that the feast were over, and I could really enjoy her.”
Aurora returned his glance coldly, but Maelgwn decided not to worry about it. There would be plenty o
f time to win back her favor once they were alone together.
Laughter and the buzz of voices filled the great hall as Aurora entered with Maelgwn. A hush moved through the room as people looked up to see their king with his queen, and then the crowd broke into cheers and jubilant shouts. The hearty, dusky-skinned Cymru—dressed in gaudy colors and brilliant jewelry—seemed to fill the hall until there was no air to breathe. Aurora was so nervous she was almost faint, and she leaned gratefully on Maelgwn’s strong arm as he led her to their table. With a sigh of relief she took her place between Maelgwn and his first officer, Balyn. Perhaps now everyone would stop staring at her and go back to their normal talk.
Food was brought for them—heavy, rich dishes that turned Aurora’s nervous stomach. She looked with distaste at the heaping trencher she shared with Maelgwn.
“Have some wine.” Balyn suggested. “It will help you relax.”
Aurora looked at him sharply, but saw no malice in his broad face. Balyn’s brown eyes looked sympathetic, and his smile sincere. “Thank you,” she answered, trying to hide the trembling of her hands as she picked up the heavy gold goblet.
“What do you think of your new home?”
“I... I have not had a chance to see much of it yet.”
“It has its good and bad, as does any place,” Balyn said agreeably. “It would be most surprising if you were not homesick. I hope Lady Gwenaseth will be a good friend to you and ease your loneliness. She is a newcomer to Caer Eryri as well.”
Aurora’s face brightened with interest. “Is that why she speaks a little differently?”
“Aye. Gwenaseth is from along the coast of Gwynedd. Her father is an ally of Maelgwn, and he sent her here to Caer Eryri for fostering.”
“She is very kind,” agreed Aurora. “I am most grateful for her help.”
“You look very lovely tonight, Aurora,” Balyn said admiringly. “Maelgwn is a lucky man.”
Aurora blushed and glanced at her husband. He seemed to be deep in conversation with Evrawc, and for once she was glad he was ignoring her. She could not have hidden her anger toward him if he had tried to speak with her just then. She looked back at Balyn and caught him watching her with curiosity. She wondered with embarrassment how much he knew of her relationship with Maelgwn.
When the meal was finished, Maelgwn rose to speak. Aurora found it hard to pay attention; she was looking around the room, staring at the unknown people who were now to be her subjects. Their clothes were unashamedly bright and garish. No man in Viroconium would ever wear such wild shades of red, saffron, blue, and purple, and there was not a toga to be seen. The men wore short tunics, leather trousers and vividly patterned shawls over their shoulders. The women wore loose gowns gathered at the neck and waist. The colors they used were softer and more subdued than those of the men’s clothes, but their necks and wrists were adorned with bright enamel and bronze jewelry, their hair elaborately braided and decorated with gold threads, pearls and precious stones.
Maelgwn was still speaking, describing the events that led up to Constantine’s surrender. He seemed to be emphasizing the ease with which they had frightened the Cornovii, and there were occasional derisive shouts of laughter as he painted the picture of Constantine cowering before the superior Cymru forces. Aurora felt herself flush as she realized that Maelgwn was portraying her father as a fool. It was so unfair! What had he expected her father to do? Fight and get them all killed?
When he had finished with his fun of ridiculing the Cornovii army, Maelgwn began a long recitation of the livestock, grain and other property Constantine had paid for the truce. The crowd grew more exuberant with each item. It would be an easy winter in Gwynedd no matter how the harvest fared.
After he listed the tribute, Maelgwn paused, and the crowd held their breath expectantly. Aurora could not help turning with the others and staring at Maelgwn. Her husband was an imposing man, and he looked especially dramatic this night. Dressed in his best dark tunic, with a deep red mantle draped over his shoulder and his long dark mane of hair framing his masculine face—even Aurora felt a stirring of awe as she looked at him. Then he began to speak in his arrogant voice, and her hatred returned.
“As a symbol of his complete loyalty, Constantine has given us another gift.”
Maelgwn glanced almost imperceptibly at Aurora, and she wished she could disappear into the floor.
“I know that I speak of one of Constantine’s most prized possessions, and that it pained him greatly to give her up.”
Maelgwn’s smile broadened into what seemed to Aurora to be a gloating grin, and she felt the blood creeping into her face. She was being presented as a trophy prize, part of the spoils of Maelgwn’s victory over her father!
“As a gesture of his fealty, Constantine of Viroconium has given me his fairest daughter in marriage.”
His silly compliments counted for naught, thought Aurora bitterly. He chose me not because he found me fair!
The spectators crowded around, red-faced and loud, staring at Aurora. Maelgwn turned to her, and taking her hand, helped her stand and face the room.
“I present to you, my new queen, Lady Aurora.” The playfulness was gone from Maelgwn’s manner, and he faced the room with a commanding air, his eyes daring any man to show a hint of disrespect.
Aurora stood as tall as possible and tried to pretend she was her mother—calm, regal, in control—but her hand gripped Maelgwn’s in white-knuckled fear. The room was hushed, and Aurora looked out at a sea of faces, some leering, some hostile, some smiling, all curious.
Balyn broke the silence with a confident shout. “A toast, a toast to our beautiful Queen Aurora!”
Other voices followed and soon the hall rang with cheers. Glancing nervously at the room full of excited faces, Aurora’s eyes rested for a moment upon Esylt, seated near the king’s table with a group of raucous soldiers. Their eyes met, and Aurora felt the force of Esylt’s hatred. She stepped back instinctively, just as Maelgwn gave a full-throated laugh and grabbed her for a lusty kiss. The onlookers roared with appreciative delight. Aurora tried to smile, but her face felt frozen; she could not forget the malice she had seen in her sister-in-law’s eyes.
Gradually the hall began to settle down, and tables were moved away from the center of the room. Aurora’s nerves steadied and she grew curious as to what would come next. A lone man, robed in the plain, nondescript wool of a bard and carrying a huge, graceful harp, moved to the center of the room in front of the king’s table. The crowd grew quiet as he ran his hand across the silken strings, sending a ripple of silvery notes into the hushed room.
His voice was beautiful, low and vibrant, but Aurora was disappointed. The man’s accent was so strong that between that and his lyrical delivery, Aurora was unable to understand most of what he was singing about. It seemed to be the story of Maelgwn and all the battles he had fought, but many other kings and heroes were mentioned and Aurora grew weary of his recitation.
At last it was over. People began to get up and move into informal groups. Aurora spied Gwenaseth holding Elwyn’s hand and smiled uncertainly at them. To her delight, the young woman hurried over to her. Gwenaseth was wearing a beautiful saffron-colored dress with a brilliant purple shawl. Her necklace and earrings of gleaming amber rivaled even Aurora’s costly jewels.
“You look beautiful, Gwenaseth,” Aurora said softly, reaching out to touch the shawl. “I have never seen such a rich purple.”
“It’s a special dye made only in Tyre,” Gwenaseth answered proudly. “It’s said to be the same color used by Roman senators for their state robes.”
“Aye, I have heard of it—royal purple, it’s called,” Aurora said, feeling slightly envious. She wondered if Gwenaseth did not look more striking than she. But if she did, Aurora could not tell by the way Elwyn looked at her. The young soldier was staring at her with a dazed expression of near worship.
“Next there will be dancing,” Gwenaseth said enthusiastically. I don’t think Maelgwn wi
ll join in, but you can stay with us,” she added kindly.
Aurora nodded, feeling ashamed of her less than generous thoughts. Gwenaseth seemed as loyal and kind as Elwyn.
The pulsing beat of drums and pipes began, and groups of people stepped out of the crowd and began to circle and twirl with abandon. The spirit of celebration was contagious, and it was not long before Aurora’s body longed to move freely to the stirring rhythm. The ritual feasts at Viroconium—now held in conjunction with Christian holidays instead of the ancient celebrations of harvest, sun and fire—suddenly seemed very dull compared to the primitive throb of life that filled the great hall of Caer Eryri.
Laughing, Elwyn and Gwenaseth pulled Aurora into the swirling, sweaty crowd. At first, Aurora was uncertain, wondering if she would know what to do, but gradually she surrendered to the hypnotic beat and followed the instinctive rhythm of her feet. She was soon exhilarated and sweating, and a warm glow spread throughout her body, making her feel weightless and full of life. She gradually lost track of Gwenaseth and Elwyn and moved along with the flow of the crowd. As she clasped hands with flushed, smiling strangers, the barriers Aurora had felt earlier as a foreigner in Gwynedd were gone, and the Cymru suddenly seemed to be the handsomest people she had ever known. She admired their glossy dark hair and the flash of strong white teeth in their dusky faces. The Cymru were not savages after all, she decided, but a dynamic, fun-loving race.
As she moved around the room, admiring eyes followed Aurora, and the bolder men shouted bawdy compliments. Aurora could not help blushing, but deep down she was pleased. It was nice to be treated as a desirable woman. She was no longer the raggedy little sister, but the king’s wife. It was hard to believe that the flashing confidence she felt had come so quickly.
Aurora stopped to catch her breath and gulp some watered wine, and Gwenaseth joined her.
“It is a wonderful celebration, is it not, my lady?” Gwenaseth’s eyes glowed with soft fire as she followed Elwyn’s graceful figure as he moved with the other dancers.
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