The Dragon Prince

by Mary Gillgannon

Arthur looked surprised, then nodded. “I’m pleased you know our tongue. Perhaps you will not feel so lonely and isolated during your stay with our people.” He motioned to Rhun. “This is Rhun ap Maelgwn. He will take you to a fortress in the north where you will be safe.”

  Rhun bowed. As Eastra met his gaze, he struggled to keep his face expressionless. Arthur said, “Rhun, escort Princess Eastra to the cart she will ride in.”

  “Please.” Eastra put up her hand in an imploring gesture. “I would rather ride astride.”

  “It’s a long journey.” Arthur regarded her intently. “You might well be more comfortable in a cart.”

  “Nay, I would rather ride.”

  Rhun was impressed by her stubbornness, and also relieved he would not have to stay to the back of the army train with the slow-moving wains and other baggage. He smiled at her, then thought better of showing such warmth. He wasn’t supposed to know this woman.

  Arthur motioned for one of the young armor bearers to come forward and take the lead of the packhorse from the Saxon servant. Then he turned to Bedwyr, his captain of the horse. “Find her a mount. Some beast with an easy gait, but enough spirit to keep up.”

  Bedwyr nodded and hurried off.

  Arthur motioned across the field to Cerdic, indicating with a formal salute that the hostage had been accepted. Cerdic motioned back. Then the Saxons seemed to swallow up Mordred as the mass of warriors moved back to the fortress. Beside Rhun, Cador muttered an oath. “I don’t like it. I can’t help feeling we have offered the seawolves a willing spy rather than a hostage.”

  “Watch your tongue. Remember the woman.” Cei motioned with his head toward Eastra.

  Cador barely spared a glance for her. “She may speak our tongue, but she’s naught but a helpless female.”

  An angry retort rose on Rhun’s tongue, but he bit it back. Let Cador ignore her and think her of no account. She would be safer that way.

  Everyone began to move off. Arthur motioned to Rhun. “Wait here until Bedwyr brings her horse.” To Eastra he said, “Is there anything else you require, princess?”

  She shook her head.

  As soon as Arthur left, Rhun moved nearer to Eastra and spoke in a low voice. “Do you mean to travel wearing all your finery? Would you not be more comfortable in a plainer, looser garment?”

  “Cerdic bid me dress as a princess.”

  “But did he not also provide you with a bodyservant to help you dress and care for your needs?”

  “He offered one, but I declined it.”

  “Why?”

  “Having been a slave, I’m not comfortable with having some other woman forced to wait upon me.”

  “That’s generous of you, but I still fear you will find it awkward traveling with an army camp. Who will comb out your hair and aid you in dressing?”

  He was sweet to worry for her, Eastra thought. In truth, she hadn’t thought ahead to such matters. Cerdic had not offered her a bodyservant, although he probably would have provided one if she’d asked. But she had not asked. Her mind had been too focused on her plan to find a way to stay as near to Rhun as possible. Fortune clearly favored her, since Arthur had chosen Rhun to serve as her guard.

  “I’m certain I will manage,” she said. “I do have plainer clothing in my pack.”

  Rhun nodded curtly. “I will fetch it. Then we will have to find some place for you to change.” There was more than a hint of exasperation in his voice. As he walked away, Eastra bit her lips. She had not done well in angering him.

  “Don’t mind him.” She turned at the sound of a familiar musical voice. Bridei stood a few feet away, smiling at her. “He’s always a bit ill-tempered in the morning.”

  Eastra regarded Rhun’s brother with wariness. He appeared to have made a jest, but she could not tell for certain. She wondered what Rhun had told Bridei about her.

  “What I mean to say is that he is not really angry at you,” Bridei said. “It’s Arthur he’s wroth with.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he didn’t want Arthur to find you acceptable as a hostage.”

  Her heart sank. She had hoped Rhun would be pleased with the arrangement. Apparently, she was wrong to think he cared for her.

  “Ah, princess, don’t look so sad. It’s not what you think. I believe my brother dreads your company not because he mislikes it, but because he likes it all too well.” Bridei’s grin deepened and the skin around his blue eyes crinkled with mirth. Eastra found herself blushing. It was almost as if this man could read her thoughts. She stared at him, not knowing how to respond.

  “Here he comes now,” Bridei said. “Smile at him and, I assure you, he will regain his good nature in a heartbeat.”

  She turned and saw Rhun approaching. Remembering Bridei’s words, she smiled tentatively. Rhun’s face did seem to change, as if some of the tension left it, replaced by a brief look of longing that made her heart twist in her chest. He paused a few feet away, holding her pack. “I have brought your things.” His voice sounded out of breath, although he didn’t appear winded. “There’s a stand of trees over there where you can change. I will stand guard.”

  “Do you need any help, brother?” Bridei’s voice was mocking.

  Rhun shot him a hostile look. “Come.” He motioned for Eastra to proceed him. She obeyed, wondering again at the relationship between Rhun and his brother.

  As she walked toward the stand of beech and oak, she felt nervous and unsettled. Rhun was so close. If she turned around and reached out, her hand would graze his body. But she dare not do such a thing. Even if Rhun desired her, they could not act on it here, not within arrowshot of his commander and her uncle. There would be plenty of other opportunities for them to be alone on their journey. And if, as Bridei said, Rhun truly felt something for her, his hunger would only deepen and intensify the longer they were together. For now, she would appear maidenly and demure.

  She turned her head to ask, “Where is the place we are traveling to?”

  “We’re traveling to my homeland, Gwynedd.”

  “Gwynedd?” They had reached the trees. She finally deemed it seemly to turn around and look at him.

  “Aye. My father’s fortress is there. You will be safe under his protection.”

  “Is it very far?”

  He nodded gravely. “On the other side of Britain.”

  They had a long journey ahead of them. There would be plenty of time to convince Rhun that even if she was a Saxon and he a Briton, they might have a future together.

  She took her pack from him and went off in the trees to change. Carefully removing the gold and garnet necklace and her earbobs, she wrapped them in some clothing in the bottom of her pack then unfastened the matching girdle from around her waist. As she pulled the heavily embroidered gunna over her head, a feeling of relief washed over her. The gold jewelry around her neck had felt as confining as she imagined a slave collar might feel. She would be much more comfortable in her loose, faded blue gunna, and she was grateful to Rhun for suggesting the idea. Now that she was away from Cerdic and the rest of her countrymen, she could finally act like herself.

  She had learned to ride as a child, practicing on a shaggy, dappled gray pony her father had procured in a raid. Not many of her people were comfortable on horses, but she had always found riding pleasurable. It had turned out to be a useful skill as she traveled from fort to fort with Cerdic’s camp. She did not have to endure the endless jostling in a cart at the back of the army train like the other women did, but could ride near the front. Cerdic was pleased with her skill because he said it made her seem more royal, and because it kept her near him where he could have her serve his thanes.

  Now she would ride beside Rhun. She knew many of Arthur’s warriors fought on horseback and that the Britons were famed horsemen. The fact she could ride might make her seem more like a woman of his own people.

  She changed her embroidered linen shoes for a pair of soft leather sandals, then smoothed her hair. Hurriedly
stuffing everything into her pack, she started back to where Rhun waited. She didn’t want to delay him any longer than necessary.

  It was every bit as bad as he had feared, Rhun thought as he kept watch for Eastra. Her mere nearness was enough to make him into a nervous, witless fool. At this moment, when he should be thinking ahead to their journey and the possible dangers awaiting them, he was imagining Eastra undressing a few paces away. Visions of her naked body, her creamy, perfect skin and the lushness of her womanly form flooded his brain.

  He shook his head, trying to expel the images from his thoughts. He was not what Bridei believed him to be—a lust-maddened beast. What he felt for Eastra was a sense of protectiveness, and his intentions toward her were noble and Christian. He meant to keep her safe and make her ordeal as a hostage as pleasant as possible. Although he might heartily wish Arthur had not assigned him this task, now that it was done he must do his duty to the best of his ability.

  “I am ready.” Her soft voice interrupted his thoughts. He turned and smiled at her. Nay, she did not need ornate garments or gold adornment to make her look like a princess. Even in plain garments she was stunning. Her unbound hair, braided at the temples to keep it out of her face, flowed over her shoulders like pale, shimmering silk. Her face was like a flower, delicate, perfectly formed. He motioned with his head, wanting to take her hand, but not daring to touch her. “Let us go back to the others.”

  Due to the lateness of the day, they did not get far out of Saxon territory before Arthur called a halt. They made camp on a rise of land—the better to defend themselves in case the Saxons planned some treachery, as Cador put it—then sent a party of men down into the vale below to fetch wood for the cookfires and water. Rhun found Eastra a sheltered place near the supply carts. He spread out the blanket from his pack, then bid her sit down. “I will bring you food shortly,” he said, then left her.

  After sending his armor bearer, Arwistyl, to obtain a portion of the stew and a loaf when it was ready, Rhun made his way to the center of the camp where Arthur and his officers, the Companions, were gathered. Bridei was squatting down near Arthur and speaking quietly to the high king. Rhun joined them.

  “I would like to believe Cerdic is sincere in his desire for peace, but based on past experience I cannot depend on it.” Arthur spoke in a quiet, serious voice, and in the firelight, his handsome, kingly face appeared tense. “I think it’s wisest that we remain vigilant and ready for war. What concerns me most is that the Saxons might use this summer of peace as an opportunity to bring more warriors from their homeland across the sea. We need to alert our spies in the east to watch the coast.”

  Cador nodded thoughtfully. “We should also send an envoy to Londinium. With all the ships that sail in and out of that place, they might hear something of what is happening across the Eastern Sea.”

  “An excellent idea,” Arthur said. “But who do we send?”

  “I could go,” Bridei offered. “I know several merchants in Londinium.”

  “But I need you to go with Rhun to Gwynedd,” Arthur said. “The plan was for you to be part of the princess’s escort.”

  “She could come with us to Londinium first. It’s only a day’s journey to the south.”

  Rhun stared at his brother. What was Bridei planning?

  Arthur frowned. “It seems very odd to take a hostage on such a mission.”

  “Not so odd,” Bridei said. “Who knows? Seeing her, knowing we have some hold over Cerdic, might sway some of the traders into helping us.”

  “But what if she intends to spy for Cerdic?” Cei asked in concern. “Then she would know our plans.”

  “I would not involve her directly when I met with the merchants.” Bridei favored Cei with a withering look. Cei was a solid, loyal officer, but not the cleverest of men. “Rhun would guard her while I went about my business.” He looked around the gathering. “Many of these merchants are wary of soldiers and all things having to do with war. I am the man who can convince them this is not merely Arthur’s battle, but something every man in Britain who values the freedom should be concerned about.”

  Arthur looked to Cador. Despite Cador’s excesses in past campaigns, all the Companions knew the high king depended heavily on his judgment.

  Cador shrugged. “I can’t see any harm in the plan. Cerdic will certainly never expect us to take his niece into the south. By the time he learns she’s there, the business will be finished and they will be on their way to Gwynedd.” He turned to Bridei. “And I agree that our silver-tongued bard is the man for this task. If anyone can convince the greedy merchants of Londinium there is some reason for them to support our cause, it’s him.”

  Arthur nodded. Then, as an afterthought, he turned to Rhun. “Have you any objection?”

  What could he say? He could not guess his brother’s scheme. “I have no objection,” he answered.

  Eastra sat in the back of the supply cart, dangling her legs as she watched the night sky turn from purple to blue-black. Around her, spread out over the hillside, campfires gleamed into light, like stars reflecting those above in the heavens. She tried to eat the stew that the young soldier had brought her—Arwistyl, he said his name was. Although the pottage was savory and well-seasoned, she had to force each bite down. She could not help thinking about the fact she was surrounded by her enemies.

  After every mouthful, she paused as the lilting cadence of the British tongue came to her ears from every quarter of the camp. Although she could understand most of what they said, the unfamiliar rhythms of their language seemed foreign and somehow threatening. All her life she had heard tales of the treachery and cruelty of the Britons, and during her childhood she’d experienced their brutality firsthand. She had lost her mother and her brother in one of their raids. Although she had not seen them die, she could not help imagining her loved ones lying in the dust with the reeking smoke around them, their blue eyes staring sightless and bright red blood oozing from their wounds.

  But during that same raid, Rhun had rescued her, carrying her out of the longhouse to the freedom of the forest. He had hidden her from his fellow warriors, clearly disobeying orders to save her. Having done that so many years ago when he was but a fledgling warrior and she only a child, surely he could be trusted with her life even more now. He was obviously a powerful, important man among his people. He sat at Arthur’s side and shared in his council meetings. And she was a woman, not a scrawny child. She could make him desire her, make him look at her with longing as other men did.

  She sighed and dipped a piece of the bread into the stew. Bannock, they called it, a flat unleavened mealcake cooked over a campfire. Filling, substantial food, although plainer and coarser than what she was used to in Cerdic’s household. But she had never traveled with her uncle when he went to war, and this was the food of an army on the march.

  Again, her stomach twisted. She had risked everything to be with Rhun. What if she had made a mistake?

  * * *

  “Why did you do that?” Rhun asked his brother as they walked away from the gathering of Arthur’s Companions. “Now we are bound to go to Londinium, prolonging our journey all the more.” He turned and grabbed Bridei’s tunic. “Are you plotting some mischief? Because if you are—”

  “Peace, brother.” Bridei soothed. “I have no devious intent. Arthur needs a man to go to Londinium, and I’m the obvious one. As for taking the woman—” He shrugged. “Why should she not see a bit of the country before she is shut up in our father’s fortress?”

  “She’s a hostage, Bridei! Not some sort of... of... of guest we are showing off the choice parts of Britain to!”

  “Do you want her to be miserable? To feel like a prisoner, a kind of game piece in this contest between Cerdic and Arthur? I thought you cared about her.”

  “I don’t care about her! That is, I do, but I can’t act on those feelings. I have to deal with her as I would any other hostage.”

  “Oh, so that is why you argued with Bedwyr
about what horse she would ride, making sure she had as fine a mount as any of Arthur’s Companions?”

  “That was simply a practical consideration. She must have a decent horse if she is to keep up with us. Besides, she is a woman and royalty. I can’t treat her as I would a rough fighting man.”

  “My point exactly. She’s a woman and has lived a pampered life. At least since Cerdic rescued her and made her part of his household. What does it hurt to take her to Londinium with us and enjoy ourselves for a time?”

  “Enjoy ourselves?” Rhun gave his brother an aghast look. “What are you talking about? You’re going to Londinium on a sensitive diplomatic mission. This is not a matter in which we should find pleasure!”

  “And why not?” Bridei asked. “Why should we be wretched and gloomy every moment? This battle between Saxon and Briton has been going on since before I was born—before you were born, in fact. Why must our lives be grim and cheerless because Arthur ap Uther and Cerdic Hengistson both seek to rule Britain? They are like two hounds fighting over a bone. Neither will give in until they are dead—or until this whole island is ravaged and ruined.”

  “The cause we fight for means that little to you?” Rhun asked bitterly. “Do you really want to end up a Saxon slave, to see our people wiped out?”

  “They can’t enslave every man in Britain. Nor are they likely to kill us all, either. I don’t see why we can’t live side by side, as the Romans and our people once did. The Saxons are farmers. They care nothing for the highlands where our people live.” Bridei grimaced. “Although I despise having to admit it, I fear for once our father is right. This war is a futile waste of effort and lives.”

  “But the Saxons are barbarians! Heathen devils who worship loathsome gods. We must fight for the Christian cause, for light and truth in this time of darkness!”

  “So you believe,” Bridei said. “But I do not. I hardly think the Christians possess any sort of special claim on all the light and truth in the world. Many of them have done terrible things, things I doubt the Christos would have condoned, at least from what I know of His teachings.”