The Dragon Prince

by Mary Gillgannon

  Rhun waited for Bridei to answer, since he was officially Arthur’s messenger. His brother cleared his throat. “Arthur wishes to know what news you have of the eastern shores. He has made a truce with Cerdic, son of Hengist, and he wants to know what hope there is of the Saxons keeping it. Have you heard any word from Saxony or Jutland of ships gathering there, either to bring warriors or settlers to our shores?”

  “The seas are quiet,” Aurelius said. “If the seawolves are planning more invasions, I’ve not gotten wind of it.”

  “And what of things in Britain?” Bridei asked. “Have you heard of any plots? Whispers of treachery? Anything Arthur should be aware of?”

  Aurelius pursed his lips. “I know Arthur’s son loves him not.”

  Rhun and Bridei looked at each other. Rhun said, “Arthur has given Mordred to Cerdic as a hostage. I worry what trouble he will stir up in the enemy’s camp. And yet I think he’s better off there than roaming around Britain spreading discontent.”

  Aurelius nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps, although I don’t understand why Arthur hasn’t dealt with Mordred long before this. It seems to me the high king has the means to eliminate such threats to his power.”

  “You think he should have Mordred killed?” Rhun asked in shock.

  Aurelius shrugged. “It seems logical to me.”

  “Nay, Arthur would never do such a thing,” Rhun said. “He wouldn’t besmirch his honor and all he stands for by doing murder, and certainly not of his own son.”

  “There are those who say Arthur’s honor will be his downfall.” Aurelius’s eyes narrowed and Rhun could sense warning in his watery blue gaze.

  “Arthur believes how a man defeats his enemies is important. That there can be no true victory without honor.”

  Aurelius grunted.

  Bridei broke the uneasy silence that followed. “Other than Mordred, can you think of anything else Arthur should beware of?”

  “I’m not privy to the plans of the Saxons,” Aurelius said. “But I think the peace will hold for a time, at least until something tips the balance of the scales to their side. What that will be, I cannot say. And yet I think the greatest dangers might come from within our borders, rather than from without.”

  Rhun’s vague unease increased. What was Aurelius hinting of? Did the man even know himself what it was he feared?

  They discussed other matters of interest, such as the crops that could be expected this year and the recent weather, which had hampered Aurelius in getting his ships back and forth from Less Britain. Then servants came in bearing more of the finely-made couches. “We’ll dine as Romans this night,” their host said. Something must have showed in Rhun’s expression, for Aurelius laughed suddenly. “Or would you rather squat down around the brazier and take your meal that way?”

  “Verily I would,” Rhun answered. “I never quite get used to the idea of lying down while I eat.”

  “I keep to the Roman ways because it pleases my wife,” Aurelius said. “Surely you can understand the importance of that.” He motioned with his head toward the doorway. “Your lady—is she a Saxon?”

  Rhun nodded.

  “Odd to find one of Arthur’s Companions keeping company with a woman of the enemy, although she is certainly beautiful.”

  Bridei laughed. “She’s more to my brother than a bed partner. The arrows of the Roman god Eros have struck him a mortal blow.”

  “Ah.” Aurelius smiled at Rhun. “There are worse things, Rhun ap Maelgwn, than succumbing to a woman. I wish you well in the matter. Perhaps if this truce holds, you could even think of wedding her.”

  If Aurelius only knew, Rhun thought, that Eastra was the very means of making certain the truce did hold.

  Abruptly, Aurelius turned toward the door and clapped his hands. “The women are here. Time to forget politics and enjoy ourselves.”

  The women filed in. Rhun found himself staring at Eastra. She was attired in a Roman stola, the flowing garment arranged in complex folds around her torso and baring one creamy-skinned shoulder. Her hair was piled on top of her head, and the silvery curls formed a glowing nimbus around her face. She looked like the statue of a Roman goddess come to life.

  Aurelius cast a thoughtful glance in her direction, then hurried to escort his wife to her couch. The younger women took their places, and the servants began to carry in platters of food.

  Never had she tasted such delicious food, Eastra thought as she nibbled the spiced meat filling in a rolled-up grape leaf. But it was difficult to concentrate on the exquisite flavors when she was so acutely aware of the slaves who served them. The two young men carrying the platters could only be Saxons. Their hair was near as bright as hers, their eyes as vivid blue. She knew Rhun was watching her, aware of how closely she followed the movements of the two Saxons. Did he guess how her heart ached for them?

  But he was a prince, and used to being waited upon by underlings. They must have slaves in his father’s household in Gwynedd. A deep resentment swept through her. Rhun thought of himself as kindhearted and generous, but he easily accepted this kind of injustice. No doubt he believed conquered people were meant to serve their conquerors, that it was the natural way of things. But, in truth, it was ugly and corrupt. A man or woman didn’t become an unfeeling animal simply because their people had been defeated in battle! These vacant-faced youths knew anguish and despair and longing the same as anyone else!

  She took another bite, thinking she must not allow her anger to be obvious.

  She is not content, Rhun thought. Despite the comfortable and beautiful surroundings, the delicious food they dined upon, Eastra looked unhappy. Was it because everyone assumed she was his leman? Did the shame of that spoil her mood?

  He watched her eyes following the two Saxon servants. Did she know them, or merely pity them because she had once served as they did now? If it came to that, would she choose the cause of her own people over anything she felt for him?

  He pushed the thought from his mind. She owed him nothing. Why should she not feel a kinship with other Saxons, especially those who had been forced into slavery, as she had been? He shouldn’t have expected otherwise. Always, he was forgetting what she was: a hostage and Cerdic’s niece.

  The servants brought course after course, and the enameled cups were constantly refilled with rich, sweet wine. At last, groaning, Rhun put up his hand. “Enough! I’m on the verge of bursting!”

  “And I also,” Bridei said. He gave a laugh. “If I didn’t know Arthur counts you as one of his most valued friends, I would suspect you of trying to kill us with a surfeit of rich food!”

  Aurelius waved dismissingly. “Life is meant to be enjoyed. I know you have been hard on the campaign trail these last years. You deserve a fine meal as payment for what you are doing for Britain.”

  “If only the other merchants in Londinium thought as you do,” Rhun said. “But I fear they hardly appreciate what would happen to our homeland if not for Arthur.”

  “His reputation keeps the raiders at bay. He cannot win, but he slows down the tide so it comes in gently instead of inundating us and sweeping everything away.”

  “You don’t think we can prevail?” Rhun asked.

  Aurelius paused in eating a honey cake. “Look around while you are in Londinium. Everywhere, you will see Saxons—merchants, craftsmen and their families. They are here, building their houses alongside ours, raising their children. And those children will grow up and claim this place as their home.”

  “But if Arthur had not fought the Saxons these past thirty-some years, there would be many thousands more of them.” Rhun indicated their luxurious surroundings. “They likely would have taken all this away from you, and Londinium would now be called by some harsh, guttural Saxon name.”

  “True. Quite true.” Aurelius smiled. “That is what I meant by Arthur slowing the tide.”

  Rhun sat back. He didn’t like to be told their cause was futile. But perhaps that wasn’t what Aurelius was saying. He m
ight mean only that Arthur and his Companions had served their purpose, that this truce was a beginning of a future where Saxon and British came together, rather than a continually fighting each other.

  Then he remembered Eastra. What would she make of his comments? Her face was expressionless, but he could sense her turmoil. Regret stabbed through him. He should not speak so coldly of her people in front of her.

  Suddenly, Calida giggled. Rhun looked around and saw Bridei lean away from the young woman, trying to look innocent. But Calida’s face was flushed and glowing, and it was obvious Bridei had been saying teasing, flirtatious things to her. Aurelius cleared his throat. “I think it’s time for the ladies to retire.” He looked to his wife, Vesperia. She rose and motioned to her daughters. Eastra also rose. She gave Rhun an uncertain look then followed the other women out.

  Aurelius gave a guffaw. “Bridei ap Maelgwn, you sly, cunning-faced rogue—keep away from my daughter!”

  Bridei grinned. “Merely some harmless flirting. It might put a little flush in her cheeks and help inspire some wealthy merchant to ask for her hand.”

  Aurelius laughed loudly, and Rhun heaved a sigh of relief.

  * * *

  Eastra sat down on the bed and began to pull the pins out of her hair. A knock sounded at the door. She called out, “come in.” Expecting Skena, she was surprised to see Calida slip through the doorway.

  The young woman stood there, her faced flushed and her eyes bright. “I’m sorry to disturb you this late, but I wanted to speak to you alone.” As Eastra regarded her with curiosity, Calida took a deep breath. “I wanted to ask about the dark-haired man, Bridei. He’s not your patron, is he?”

  “Patron?” Eastra stared blankly, then finally figured out what the young woman meant. “Oh, no.”

  Calida came to sit on the bed beside her. “Tell me about him. Does he have a lady or a wife back in his homeland?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “And he stands high in favor with Britain’s Dux Bellorum?”

  Again, Eastra was at a loss. Finally, she grasped the term. “Oh, you mean Arthur. Aye, Arthur appears to be pleased with Bridei. Otherwise he wouldn’t have trusted him with guarding a hostage.” Eastra wanted to clap her hand over her mouth. The fact that she was a hostage was obviously a sensitive matter, and she didn’t want to betray Rhun’s trust. “That is, Arthur must think highly of Bridei if he sends him to visit your father.”

  Calida nodded eagerly. “That’s what I mean. My father must approve of Bridei—if he is Arthur’s man.”

  Eastra wondered what she was getting at. “Why does it matter if your father approves of Bridei?”

  Calida rose abruptly and began to pace. “Because if Bridei asked for my hand, my father would not refuse him.”

  “If Bridei...” Eastra stared. “But you’ve barely met him!”

  “Yet he cares for me, I can tell.” Calida gave a soft sigh.

  Eastra didn’t know whether to be alarmed or amused. The foolish young woman obviously thought Bridei’s casual flirting meant much more. She gave Calida a stern look. “Now, look here, you don’t even know Bridei. Although I don’t know him well either, I’m acquainted with that kind of man. He’s the sort who bestows smiles and fond glances on every comely woman he meets. It means nothing, merely that he finds you attractive. It certainly doesn’t mean he is going to offer for you. Indeed, I doubt very much Bridei is looking for a wife.”

  “How would you know?” Calida said pettishly. “You are with his brother anyway, and a whore. How would you know what he thinks?”

  Eastra gritted her teeth, wanting to tell this young woman she wasn’t a whore but a princess, and that as such she didn’t have to waste her time giving advice to spoiled Roman brats! But remembering Rhun and his worries, she answered sweetly, “Well, since you have no regard for my opinion, perhaps you should seek out your own bedchamber like a virtuous and dutiful daughter.”

  Calida’s face flushed and she flounced out of the room. Eastra sighed. When she was around men, playing the role of Rhun’s leman didn’t bother her. With women it was another matter. But why should she care what Calida thought? The girl was naive and foolish.

  She turned her attention back to unsnarling her hair with a fine-toothed bronze comb that had the design of a sort of half-naked woman on the handle.

  * * *

  “What were you thinking?” Rhun demanded as he and Bridei followed a servant through the outdoor peristyle to the sleeping quarters. “Flirting with the daughter of our ally—sometimes I think you have sawdust where your brains should be!”

  “There was no harm done. She’ll forget me in a few days anyway.”

  “That’s not the point! You should be thinking of Arthur’s business here in Londinium, not making eyes at young women!”

  “I see no reason I can’t do both things,” Bridei said stubbornly. “Do you think Aurelius took offense? Nay, he did not. He probably wishes he could have me around the next time he invites an appropriate suitor to his house, so I could tease his whey-faced daughter and make her flush as prettily as she did tonight. Women blossom with a little attention, and that maid is about to wither on the vine.”

  The servant stopped in front of a door and nodded to Rhun. “This is your lady’s bedchamber.”

  Rhun looked at the closed door and said “I’m not quite ready to retire yet. I think I will join my brother for a time.”

  “As you wish.” The servant led them farther down the covered outdoor corridor to another bedchamber. There, he offered to fetch them some wine. Rhun declined the offer, and the man bowed and left them.

  “Eastra’s supposed to be your leman,” Bridei said with a smirk as they entered the room. “Everyone will think it odd if you don’t share her bed.”

  “No one will know except the servants.” Rhun regarded the one narrow bed. “I’ll take the floor. It should be warm enough in this place. Jesu, did you ever see such a waste of fuel? And it’s summer, even. Aurelius must be as wealthy as Croesus to afford to keep lamps and braziers lit in every room!”

  Bridei crossed to where their saddle packs lay on the tiled floor. “You’ve endured the life of a rough army camp so long you’ve forgotten how civilized people live. I must say I admire Aurelius’s way of life. I could easily get used to it.” He dug into his pack and pulled out a dark blue cloak. “But you won’t have cause to sleep on the floor anyway, brother. I’m going out.” He wrapped the garment around himself.

  “Where?”

  “I have some business to attend to.”

  “More spying for Arthur?”

  “Hardly. I’ve done my duty for tonight.” Bridei grinned broadly. “My next assignation will be all for pleasure.”

  “A woman—you’re going to meet a woman!”

  “Precisely.”

  Rhun had a disturbing thought. “Not Calida. Surely you’re not that foolish.”

  “Nay, not Calida. I’ve never favored simpering young maids. You should know I prefer my women experienced. They’re more interesting that way. I get bored with bedplay soon enough. I want someone I can talk to.”

  “And you know a woman like that here in Londinium?”

  Bridei raised his dark brows. “I know several.”

  Rhun shook his head.

  After his brother left, Rhun began to undress. He’d taken off his tunic when there was a knock at the door. Thinking that it was a servant, he quickly crossed the chamber and opened the door.

  Eastra stood there. She had taken down her hair, but she still wore the stola. Her gaze took in his face, then traveled down his body. Rhun didn’t speak. He couldn’t. There was something in the way she looked at him. Worshipful. Adoring. He’d never had a woman regard him quite like that before, and he was acutely conscious of his naked torso. Indeed, it was almost as if she had run her fingers down his chest, the way her gaze affected him. He felt goose bumps on his skin and his nipples tighten.

  She jerked her gaze back to his face. �
��Oh,” she said. “I didn’t mean to bother you if you were preparing to bed.” He didn’t answer, merely shook his head. She glanced at him expectantly. “May I... come in?”

  He moved aside so she could enter. He half wanted to grab his tunic from the bed and cover himself. But doing so might embarrass her. He didn’t want to make her think he’d been offended by the way she’d stared at him. Besides, it was ridiculous to worry about his lack of clothing. She’d undoubtedly seen naked men before. He said, “Would you like me to send for some wine?”

  She shook her head. “I came here to tell you...” Her voice trailed off. She took a deep breath, turned and paced across the room.

  He could sense her turmoil, a kind of fear. “What’s wrong?” he asked as he approached her. “Has something happened?”

  She turned and nodded, then hesitated again.

  “What is it?” She was obviously upset. He wanted to comfort her. To reach out for her and pull her into his arms. To cradle her against his chest as he had years ago.

  “It’s Calida,” she said. “Aurelius’s daughter. She came to my room and asked questions about Bridei. She seems to think he might ask to wed with her.”

  He frowned. This was not what he’d expected, and it didn’t explain the look of fear he’d seen in her eyes, her hesitation. Was she worried Aurelius would be angry Bridei had charmed his daughter and perhaps led her to believe his intentions were different than they were?

  “I spoke with Bridei on the matter myself,” he answered. “I don’t think there will be trouble. Aurelius chided Bridei about flirting with Calida, but he seemed good-natured and reasonable about it. And if Bridei doesn’t take the matter any further—and he’s assured me he won’t—then outside of Calida’s disappointment, I don’t think any harm has been done.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” she said, although she didn’t appear relieved. He could feel the tension in her body. Some instinct told him the matter of Calida and Bridei wasn’t the reason she had come to him.

  He moved closer. “What is it? What’s wrong?” She gave him a helpless look. That was all it took. He went to her and gathered her in his arms. “All is well,” he murmured, “I won’t let anything happen to you. No one harm you.” Despite the warnings in his head, his hand crept up to smooth her hair, feeling the delightful softness.