Dragon of the Island (21 page)

“Maelgwn,” she began. “Tell me about
Cunedda’s people. What are they like?”

“Cunedda’s grandsire and mine were brothers,
but there was little influence of the Romans in the north, and the
Brigantes still keep the old ways. The land they live in is too
wild and densely forested for farming. They hunt the red deer and
the wild boar, and herd their cattle. Cunedda’s army is
undisciplined, and they have no cavalry, but they are excellent
bowmen and fierce fighters.”

Aurora considered this wealth of information
carefully. “What of the women of the Brigantes? Does Cunedda have a
wife?”

“I believe he has several.”

“Why, that is... barbaric!”

Maelgwn looked at her with a mocking, amused
stare. “That may be, but it is his people’s way.”

Aurora looked back at him in agitation. “Do
the Cymru... Would you ever...?”

Maelgwn laughed. “Me? I have enough trouble
with the one wife I have,” he answered wryly. “At any rate,
Cunedda’s wives may be of noble blood, but none of them have
brought him the wealth of Viroconium.”

“That is it, then?” Aurora asked, her eyes
flashing. “I bring you power and wealth, so I am valuable to
you?”

“What do you want me to say?” Maelgwn asked,
the edge of frustration creeping into his voice. “I can’t say that
I would have married you if you were a poor freeman’s
daughter.”

Aurora bit her lips silently. How could she
admit to her husband that she longed for something more than
respect—that she dreamed of love and tenderness, laughter and
companionship?

“So, you go to meet with Cunedda to discuss
his problems with the Picts and the Irish?” Aurora asked when her
irritation had begun to cool.

Maelgwn nodded.

“If you help him, send him warriors and
supplies for battle, what will he do for you in return?”

Maelgwn smiled at his wife. For all her
innocent face, her mind was sharp—she knew the right questions to
ask. “Perhaps someday I will need Cunedda’s help and perhaps he
will help me.”

“Perhaps? You doubt him?”

Maelgwn looked appraisingly at his wife. He
was used to guarding his tongue carefully around all but his
officers and closest counselors. Was it wise to trust his new wife
with doubts regarding his allies? She could have little
understanding of the heritage of conflict that haunted the tribes
of north Britain. Blood was no proof against treachery—you had only
to look at the deadly rivalry that had destroyed his family to know
that.

“What interest do these subjects have for
you, Aurora?”

“If I am to be your wife and queen, it would
seem wise to know a little of who are your true enemies and
allies.”

“You need not trouble yourself on that
account. I have advisers and officers enough to deal with those
problems. I only expect you to be appropriately beautiful and
charming when we get to Manau Gotodin.”

Aurora could feel her rebellious temper
rising again. It had obviously been too much to hope that Maelgwn
would ever treat her as his equal, or even trust her as much as he
did his soldiers. Hot anger flashed through her. Now the day did
not seem so fine nor the journey so exciting.

Maelgwn looked regretfully at the tense set
of his wife’s mouth. He hadn’t meant to upset her, but why was she
interested in these things anyway? It reminded him too much of
Esylt. He wanted his wife to spend her time pleasing him, not
worrying about politics.

They rode in silence for a while—Aurora,
angry and hurt, and Maelgwn regretful but stubborn. As usual,
Aurora could not hold onto her anger, and it disappeared as quickly
as it had come. Before they reached the shadow of another hill, she
found herself full of eager questions again.

“Do you rule over all this land?” she asked
her husband, gesturing to the vast gray, blue and russet slopes
which surrounded them.

“Aye, though ‘rule’ is an extravagant word
to use. The tribes that live here have a simple life, herding their
cattle and sheep over the hills as their grandfathers did. I act as
their protector, and they give me homage, but truly the eagles that
fly above these high peaks are as much lords of this place as
I.”

Aurora was immediately struck by the image
of a majestic eagle looking down on his wild, forbiddingly
beautiful kingdom. How much Maelgwn was like those lords of the
air—powerful, solitary, ruthless. No wonder he felt so at home in
his mountain fortress.

“Why do they need a protector?” Aurora asked
after her thoughts had run their course. “It would seem that no one
would disturb them here.”

“Perhaps they don’t,” Maelgwn said slowly.
“The Irish, the Picts, even the Romans—no invaders have ever really
penetrated these wild lands. It is too much work to bring an army
here, and there is too little wealth to seize to make it
worthwhile. But even here the people have a sense of what it means
to be Cymru, and they fear what would happen if that were
lost.”

Aurora shook her head in confusion.
“Cymru—what does it mean?”

Maelgwn smiled, and his eyes grew misty with
a softness Aurora seldom saw there. “It means ‘the people’ but it
is more than a name. We have been here so long, we are part of the
land. Already the barrows and magic places are ancient, and my
people’s heritage goes back even before that time. Our bards sing
of heroes dead for centuries, gods that have inspired awe for a
thousand years.”

“And you hate all who came after you—like
the Romans,” Aurora said resentfully.

Maelgwn answered sharply, “I cannot hate the
Romans. I’m sure that my people hated them. The Deceangli fought
them most bitterly. You could say the Romans never really conquered
us. They just built their forts and lived side-by-side with our
settlements. But by now most people can see that the Romans gave us
many good things—warhorses, Samian ware, wine. They taught us how
to fight wars with discipline and strategy, otherwise we would
never be able to hold our own against the Saxons, the Picts, the
Irish.

“While I won’t live like your father—wearing
a fine white toga, living in a boxlike house with patterned floors,
statues and fountains, I can appreciate the beauty and wealth that
the Romans made possible.” He paused and a half-smile played upon
his lips. “Everything I sought at Viroconium was there because of
the Romans—even you.”

“Do you appreciate
me
?”

“What makes you think I do not?”

Aurora was silent. It was humiliating to try
and get a word of tenderness from this man. She would not beg for
it. He seemed determined to see her as just another of
Constantine’s fine possessions he had stolen.

The silence weighed heavily between them,
and they were both grateful when Balyn pulled up to discuss where
they would make camp that night. Aurora let her horse fall behind
the men, keeping to her own thoughts. Behind her she could hear
Esylt’s husky voice as she spoke to her companion. Despite
Maelgwn’s presence, Aurora felt uneasy at the thought of having to
look at Esylt’s face across the campfire. The hate that ran between
them was so strong, it seemed to move in the air like a living
thing. Esylt still had not said anything to Maelgwn about Aurora
and Elwyn, but that did not mean she never planned to. As little
trust as she had with her husband, Aurora did not want to see that
little bit destroyed.

The rugged hills and marshy valleys made for
hard riding, and Aurora was glad when Maelgwn decided to make camp
early in a narrow valley filled with alder and birch. The sun was
still visible in the misty sky, but evening fell quickly in the
shadowed hills and the purple curtain of night descended over
them.

They had not taken time to hunt for game,
and so they made a meal of barley bannock, hard white cheese
flavored with wild garlic, and heather beer. Aurora had no taste
for the beer, and they had no wine, so she drank water. There was a
sweet spring near where they camped, and Aurora was able to wash
her face and hands after supper.

For a while they all sat companionably
around the fire—Aurora and Maelgwn silent, while Balyn, Gareth and
Rhys argued the merits of a certain type of bridle bit in battle.
Esylt had made the Irish slave wait upon her since they stopped,
and when he finally fell into an exhausted sleep in the back of the
pack wagon, she called out angrily to him, “Get up, you useless cur
of a boy, and get us some more beer!”

Aurora sucked in her breath in outrage and
looked at Maelgwn, but he shook his head and warned her with his
eyes against speaking. Aurora tried to keep calm, even though she
was choking on her anger, but when Grimerwyn bent his head close to
Esylt’s face and began to kiss her noisily, Aurora could endure it
no longer. She stood up and walked off into the darkness.

The wan light of a lean moon soothed her
some, but her hands were still clenched into fists when Maelgwn
came to find her.

“Why do you tolerate her disgusting
behavior?” she demanded.

“What harm is it? It’s her own pride and
self-respect she squanders, not mine.”

“But she is your sister!”

“And a free woman. Esylt chooses her own
companions, and the way she wishes to live. As long as she does not
interfere with my life, why should I care?”

“And I am not a free woman?” Aurora asked
suddenly.

Maelgwn’s voice changed, and she could sense
the tense set of his jaw in the half-darkness. “No,” he
answered.

“But why not? I am a princess, too, I have
as much royal blood in my veins as she, more if you count my Roman
great-grandfather, who was nephew to Emperor Theodosius.”

“Because you are my wife,” Maelgwn said
firmly. “When your father chose to give you to me, all your rights
passed into my hands.”

“My father did not choose!” Aurora said
indignantly. “He was forced.”

“It’s all the same now.”

“So I have no rights?”

“You have rights. You will live a life of
comfort and leisure because of me. People will defer to your wishes
and honor you always.”

“But I have no rights with you? Is that what
you are saying?”

Maelgwn turned to face her, and she could
see his face—hard, arrogant and as cold as a statue. “According to
Cymru law, there are some things you could divorce me for.”

“Such as?”

“Bringing another woman into our home... or
if I am incapable in bed.”

Aurora laughed mirthlessly. “And what of
you? According to Cymru law, for what reasons can you divorce
me?”

“A Cymru man can divorce his wife if she is
unfaithful or if she mocks his manhood. But since I am king I have
more reasons, if your father breaks his promise with me or if you
fail to bear me a son, for example.”

“But if my father keeps his part of the
bargain, you can hardly afford to divorce me for any reason,”
Aurora suggested cagily.

“Isn’t it odd. If I bring up my arrangement
with your father, you fly into a rage, yet you use it whenever you
are afraid.”

“I am not afraid!” Aurora hissed in
fury.

Maelgwn pulled her to him, and the touch of
the cold metal of the dagger at his belt made her jump. His hands
moved over her body intimidatingly, first stroking her roughly,
lingering tantalizingly for a moment between her legs, and then
finally moving up to hold her throat in a firm, but gentle
grasp.

“I don’t want you to be very afraid of me,
Aurora,” he whispered. “Just a little.”

It was hopeless, Aurora thought as she began
to respond to the sensations Maelgwn’s strong fingers aroused in
her. Maelgwn had years of experience in negotiating, testing his
opponents, finding their weaknesses and measuring how to dominate
them. After these few weeks of knowing Maelgwn, she still did not
understand him, or know his vulnerable points—except for Esylt, and
that was a weapon she dared not use.

Aurora gave in to her husband. It felt good,
and she did not want to be fighting him in the lonely, whispering
darkness. She let him find the tie to her trousers and impatiently
pull the loose garment off of her. He rode her like a stallion
then, standing up. His back arched against a tree as he pumped into
her, and Aurora grabbed his strong shoulders and held on.

The rest of the journey was uneventful. They
rode long hours over endless hills and valleys. The scent of the
sea followed them, but they never set eyes on it. They were always
a few miles inland. Despite her early eagerness for the journey,
Aurora soon tired of riding. The pace they kept was more rapid than
she’d ever maintained for any length of time, and she was weary of
the tasteless traveling food and of always being dirty.

They stopped occasionally at settlements of
the local people, although they were hardly proper towns or even
villages. The small, dark people stared at them wild-eyed. Although
a few of them ventured to speak with Maelgwn and his men, they
viewed Aurora with awe. In these desolate places, even the young
women were hollow-eyed and careworn. Aurora realized how lucky she
was to have been born into the comfort and security of her father’s
household. Beauty did not last long in this harsh place.

They reached the homeland of the Brigantes.
The forest grew thicker and more impenetrable, and several times it
seemed they would not be able to get the wagon through. Maelgwn
would consult with Rhys, and hours later the men would somehow cut
a track through the dense undergrowth. The heavy moist air and the
darkness of the forest oppressed Aurora, and she wondered what kind
of people could stand to live in this dreary, spooky
wilderness.

At last they reached the edge of the forest
and looked out on a valley studded with gray-blue lakes. On one
side of the valley there was a high, grassy hill, and on this
natural lookout was built a low stone wall with a few dozen
circular huts huddled inside. It appeared that Gwenaseth was
right—the Brigantes did live like crude savages.