The Dragon Prince (13 page)

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.

She melted into his arms and he gave a gasp
at the feel of her slim body against his bare chest. With effort,
he struggled to think of things to say to reassure her. He was
vaguely aware he should find out the real reason she was afraid.
But it was hard to think. His being was flooded with such wondrous
sensations. Such urgent feelings.

He moved his fingers to her face, cupping
her delicate chin, stroking the impossibly smooth skin of her
cheek. She shifted in his arms and raised her head to look at him.
Now her breasts were pressed against his chest. He looked down
at
her, at her beautiful face, her moist, pink, tempting
lips. He bent his head...

There was a sudden sound from the hallway.
He froze, bare inches from her lips, and listened. Footsteps.
Light. Careful. They paused, seemingly right outside the door.

They both waited, breathless. A servant
would surely knock. But the person seemed to simply be standing
there, waiting. Rhun’s mind shifted through the possibilities: An
assassin, listening to see if he was asleep. Bridei, returning
early and not certain if he should burst in, what he might
interrupt. At the thought, he released Eastra and moved away from
her.

A moment later, the footsteps retreated.
Rhun exhaled the breath he’d been holding. “They’re gone.”

Eastra nodded. “Maybe it was Calida. She
might have come to see Bridei, then lost her nerve.”

“Aye.” He took another step away from her.
What if it had been an assassin rather than a lovesick maid? What
if the killer had come a few moments later, when they were kissing,
when he was too lost to be aware of anything but Eastra? The
thought chilled him, reminding him of the dangers they faced. And
of the power of this woman to so enrapture him that he was
oblivious to everything else.

“I’ll take you back to your bedchamber,” he
said. “Lock the door behind you. I’ll keep watch outside.”

Her eyes widened. “You think someone would
try to harm me?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. But I will
stand guard and make certain you’re safe.”

“But...” Her eyes were pleading. “Could you
not keep watch in my room?” She looked around. “Or, I could stay
here until Bridei returns.”

“Nay. You’re too great a distraction. If I’m
going to protect you, I must keep my wits about me.” He smiled at
her, trying to soften the refusal.

She gave him a desperate look. “I’m sure it
was Calida we heard. I even think I smelled her perfume.”

“Maybe,” he said. “But we can’t take that
chance.”

Rhun woke to a knock at the door. “Who is
it?” he called.

“Bridei.”

Rhun climbed out of bed and moved wearily
toward the door. He’d waited outside Eastra’s bedchamber for a long
while, then finally returned to his own room and gone to sleep.

He opened the door. Seeing his brother’s
rumpled clothing and bloodshot eyes, he asked, “Rough night?”

Bridei grunted as he moved into the room.
“Not so bad. Just didn’t get much sleep.”

As Bridei removed his tunic, Rhun caught a
whiff of a potent scent. “Jesu, what’s that smell?”

“Regina gets a bit carried away with the
perfume. Says in her business it’s essential. A lot of her patrons
aren’t very fragrant in their persons.”

“Ah, so Regina is her name.”

“It isn’t what you think, brother. She’s
just a friend. We didn’t even go to bed, just sat up talking all
night.”

“Talking? About what?”

“About Arthur and the Saxons... and the
Jutes and the Irish and everyone else who seems to want a piece of
Britain these days. Learned quite a bit, I’d say. Rather more than
Aurelius had to tell us.”

“So?”

“She thinks the Saxons may be planning to
join up with the Picts in the north, and maybe the Irish as well.
She suspects Cerdic is using this truce as an opportunity to make
alliances so when he comes at us again, he will be even
stronger.”

“By the Light! That could be disastrous!”
Rhun began to dress. “Why does she think this? Did she hear it from
one of her customers?”

“She didn’t divulge her sources.”

“But you trust her?”

“Aye, I do. The women who work for her are
often former slaves. Having either escaped or been freed somehow,
they seek to be their own mistresses and to earn their own bread.
They make the most formidable group of spies a man could ask for.
They listen to the patrons when they are in their cups, and they
overhear a great deal.”

Rhun sat on the bed and jerked on his boots.
“I can’t believe Cerdic would plan something so treacherous. I
wonder if Eastra knows any of this.”

“Probably not. Indeed, I suspect only
Cerdic’s closest advisers are aware of his plans.”

“But if he betrays Arthur, then Eastra will
be...”

“Useless as a hostage,” Bridei finished for
him. “Arthur is not a brutal, vindictive man. Even if Cerdic breaks
the truce, Arthur would never order Eastra’s death. Now, if
something happened to Mordred, that would be different. But I
believe Cerdic is too clever for that. He’s using this truce and
the exchange of hostages to buy time, time to sort out this
alliance before he goes out on the war trail once again.”

Rhun nodded. “Will you take this information
to Arthur?”

“I’ll send a message.”

“Would it not be better to go yourself and
explain things in person?”

Bridei cocked his head. “Are you trying to
get rid of me, brother?” He smiled. “That would be convenient,
wouldn’t it? You would be alone with Eastra, with no one to see
when your fine resolve weakens and you—”

“That’s not what I meant!” Rhun exclaimed.
“I merely thought you should take this information to Arthur
yourself. After all, it’s a touchy business. What if someone
intercepts your message?”

“It will mean nothing to them. I’ll send it
in code.”

Rhun shook his head. “Arthur charged you
with this mission to Londinium. I think it’s irresponsible of you
not to carry your news to him directly.”

“He also charged me with helping guard our
hostage on the journey to Gwynedd.”

“But that was before he knew Eastra spoke
Briton,” Rhun argued. “Since we don’t need you to translate,
there’s no real purpose in your accompanying us.”

“Ah, but I have a fancy to go home to
Gwynedd to see my mother anyway, and this journey gives me an
excuse.”

Rhun clenched his jaw. If he tried to argue
any more, his brother would only become more convinced that he
wanted to be alone with Eastra. And in truth, he did
not
want that. The more people around them, the better. He thought
about last night, about how close he had come to kissing Eastra...
and more, so much more. Fortunately, the sound of footsteps had
interrupted them.

“All right,” he said brusquely, “I accept
your decision to accompany us. When do you think we can leave
Londinium? Today?”

Bridei sat down on the other bed. “Today,
I’m going to sleep. By tomorrow, after I’ve talked to a few more
people, perhaps we can set off. In the meantime, why don’t you take
Eastra to the market and see the sights.”

“This isn’t a pleasure trip!”

“But we did tell Eastra our reason for
coming to Londinium was to purchase goods to take back to Gwynedd.
So unless you want her to think we lied to her, you’d best go out
and buy a few things. If you think wine is too difficult to
transport, then at least purchase some cloth goods for Rhiannon.”
Bridei fetched his saddle pack and dug out a leather pouch. “Here,”
he said, throwing the pouch to Rhun. “There’s plenty of gold in
there, enough to buy a bauble or two for Eastra as well as some
silks and linens for Rhiannon.”

“What do I know of cloth goods?” Rhun
grumbled.

Bridei shrugged. “Nothing. You’ll have to
ask Eastra to help you, I guess.” He stretched out on the bed and
closed his eyes. “Unless you can think of something else to buy to
make our story plausible.”

Rhun glared at his brother. Bridei was
always spinning tales and getting
him
tangled up in them.
But it was true they had to give Eastra some story. Although he
mostly trusted her, it was probably best if she didn’t know they
were in Londinium to get news of her uncle’s plans.

He took a deep breath, remembering the night
before. From now on, he’d have to be on his guard. Last night he’d
been convinced Eastra desired him, that she wanted him as much as
he’d wanted her. But did her eagerness represent her true feelings
for him, or was it an attempt to seduce him so she could learn his
secrets?

Nay, he could not believe that of her. She
was sweet and guileless, and her warm feelings for him were based
on the fact he had saved her life all those years ago. She wasn’t a
treacherous spy, but a naive young woman who didn’t really
understand the effect she had on men. Although she’d seemed to want
him to kiss her, she likely had the same silly daydreams about him
Calida had for Bridei. How fortunate he was that the footsteps in
the hall had broken the spell and kept him from doing something
dishonorable. He took a deep breath. And today he would be subject
to the same temptations—damn Bridei!

He glanced at his reflection in the polished
bronze mirror on the wall and stroked his jaw, trying to decide
whether it was necessary to shave. At least he was not a
black-bearded man like Bridei. He decided the gold stubble was
tolerable. Besides, having a scratchy jaw was good reason not to
let Eastra get too close. After last night, he realized he needed
all the incentive possible to make certain he kept his
distance.

A servant came to tidy the room. Rhun
pointed to Bridei’s prone form on the bed and told the woman to
come back later. Then he asked the servant where he might find his
host and was told Aurelius had gone down to the docks to see
oversee unloading a ship that had just come in from Less Britain.
Rhun decided to fetch Eastra and leave immediately for the
market.

He knocked on Eastra’s door, and she came
out in a Saxon-style gown of buttery yellow. She bid him enter,
then looked down at herself. “Do I look all right? I’m not
comfortable in the Roman stola, yet I fear Lady Aurelius will think
ill of me if I wear my plain traveling gunna.”

“You look glorious.” He smiled at her. “Like
a golden iris in a mountain meadow. No man in the market will be
able to tear his gaze away from you.”

“Is that where we’re going—the market?”

Rhun nodded. “We must buy some supplies for
my father’s household. I’m going to fetch our escort from the
stables, or wherever they found to sleep. You can wait in the
garden while we saddle the horses.”

After Rhun left her in the garden, Eastra
walked down the stone pathways, admiring the flowers and herbs, the
splash of water in a small stone pool with a bronze statue of a
plump naked little boy standing in the center. Closing her eyes,
she inhaled deeply. As the sweet scents of lavender and rose filled
her senses, memories of the night before rushed over her. Rhun, his
hair gilded gold in the torchlight, his strong neck and broad,
well-muscled chest making him look like a warrior out of one of the
legends.

At the sight of him, she’d forgotten she’d
come to tell him about her conversation with Skena. All words had
fled from her mouth and she could only mumble and stare. And then
when she did speak, she’d told him about Calida instead of Skena.
Somehow she couldn’t bear the thought of making him angry, as she
was afraid he would be if he knew she’d revealed so much to a
slave.