Dragon of the Island (17 page)

Maelgwn was patient, agonizingly so. His
hands moved down her body, testing the fine ridge of bones along
her spine and the light, fragile framework of her ribs. Only
gradually did he begin to stroke her breasts, making slow circles
around her nipples until Aurora reached for him feverishly.

Maelgwn held himself away from her hungry
mouth, finally grasping a thick braid to hold her still while he
caressed her nipples with his other hand. He explored her body like
a blind man, and Aurora sighed and shivered under his studied,
expert touch. After a while he lifted her across the bed and lay
down next to her. Still, he did not enter her, but went on kissing
her slowly and languidly, as if tasting her. He had one hand firmly
tangled in her hair, holding her down.

Aurora was gasping and frantic with desire,
but Maelgwn was not finished with foreplay yet. He straddled her,
pushing her legs apart with his knees, and knelt to bring his mouth
to one sensitive, swollen nipple. He was rougher now, almost
hurting her with the hard pressure of his mouth and the slight,
sharp prick of his teeth as he sucked and nuzzled.

Aurora moaned and arched her back,
forgetting her fear and their angry words, forgetting everything
except the fierce, gnawing need of her body. She was dizzy, blind
from lack of air as she forgot to breathe and sank into the dark
red void of pleasure.

At last Maelgwn moved his hand between her
legs, and Aurora almost jumped from the jolt of sensation that
flowed through her. Even now, Maelgwn was slow and controlled,
feeling the quivers of ecstasy which ran through Aurora’s body at
his touch.

“Ahhhhhh!” she cried with a groan.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhh!”

Maelgwn moved his face close to hers so that
his hot breath covered her. “So, you do like it, you do want it
from me after all,” he whispered harshly.

Aurora opened her eyes and nodded, almost
insensible. It did not matter—giving in did not matter.

“Well, you shall have it!”

Maelgwn plunged into her savagely,
penetrating her so deeply that Aurora screamed in ecstasy. She
could only surrender to Maelgwn’s violent rhythm as he thrust
within her over and over, until they were both shaking and drenched
with sweat. It was like being caught in a raging river and being
drawn on helplessly in the seething, irresistible current. His arms
were around her tightly, painfully, and Aurora caught the wild,
violent scent of him like a mist over both of them. She struggled
to breathe, to think. There was mindless rapture, a vivid brilliant
shiver down her spine... and then soft darkness.

It was over. Aurora was drained, exhausted,
her thoughts spinning in small calm circles. She opened her eyes
and looked at Maelgwn. He looked spent as well, his hair black with
sweat, his skin flushed and hot. Aurora reached out a tender
caressing hand to touch his face. He opened his eyes, startled, but
he did not move as she tentatively examined his wounded face. He
did not flinch, but watched her with dazed staring eyes. After a
moment he reached up and pulled her hand down to his mouth and
kissed it.

“What are you doing?” Aurora asked as
Maelgwn dug through the pile of baskets and clothing that covered
the large chest at the end of the bed.

“I am trying to get to
my
clothes.
Can’t you get Gwenaseth to put all these things somewhere
else?”

“But I use them,” Aurora protested.

“How can you? All these jars and bags and
baubles... it’s a good thing you had my whole army there to carry
your possessions home when you left Viroconium!” He picked up a
bracelet of silver strung with blue beads and flung it across the
room for emphasis.

“What are you looking for?” Aurora asked
again, hurrying to help him lest he start throwing her things out
the window.

“My good tunic. I haven’t had it since we
arrived.”

“I am sure Gwenaseth put it away in the
chest,” Aurora said, scrambling to retrieve a bronze pot of rose
oil that Maelgwn had thrown aside. “Why do you need it?”

“I’m going to visit my holdings along the
coast.”

Aurora stopped her frantic rescue of her
possessions and stared at her husband anxiously. “Will I be going
with you?”

“No.”

Maelgwn did not look up as he opened the
large wooden chest bound with strips of hammered bronze.

“How long will you be gone?”

“A few weeks at most.”

Aurora’s heart sank. It had barely been a
week since they had arrived at Caer Eryri and already Maelgwn was
leaving. She did not like to think of staying in this lonely,
foreign place without him.

Maelgwn glanced up and saw her worried
face.

“Is there no way I could go?” she
pleaded.

“We’ll be traveling fast and light,; we
can’t slow down to worry about a woman.”

Maelgwn’s face was hard and determined, and
Aurora knew there was no point in arguing. Anyway, how could she
explain the sense of desolation that came over her at the thought
of being left alone at Caer Eryri? It was more than missing her
family and the familiar surroundings of home. She felt a nameless
dread, as if something terrible was going to happen.

Maelgwn found his tunic and was looking at
her with warmth in his eyes. “If you will miss me, come and show me
how much,” he said huskily.

Aurora went to him willingly, surprised by
her need for him. Since the day after their fight, things between
them had been very good.

Maelgwn left early the next morning, and
Aurora soon decided she had never been so miserable and bored in
her whole life. There was nothing for her to do at Caer Eryri.
Esylt was in charge of everything, and whenever Aurora ventured
into the bakehouse or the creamery or the dye-room, she was met
with stares of curiosity and sometimes outright hostility. The
acceptance she had felt the night of the homecoming feast was gone,
as if it had been an illusion conjured up out of the music, the
wine and the smoky fire. Most of the Cymru had gone off to the far
corners of Gwynedd, and those left behind had no intention of
giving Aurora a chance.

The women especially seemed wary and
disapproving. They seldom spoke more than a few words to her, and
often when she entered a room or passed by an open door, all
conversation stopped, as if she was intruding. The women of Caer
Eryri met in the great hall nearly every afternoon—to spin and sew
and gossip. Aurora had joined them several times, taking some
embroidery to work on while trying to make friends. The women never
made an effort to include her in the conversation, and Aurora soon
grew bored with their talk of babies and dyes and stitches.

Her suspicion that they were only tolerating
her was confirmed by an incident with one of Sewan’s children. The
chubby youngster ventured near to Aurora one day, and with childish
curiosity, reached out to touch her long, unbound hair. Sewan
immediately rushed over and snatched the child away. Although she
explained that she did not want the child to bother Aurora, Sewan’s
stiff face told Aurora the truth—the women of Caer Eryri did not
want their children near the strange, foreign woman Maelgwn had
chosen for his queen.

“Why would Sewan act like that?” Aurora
asked in a wounded voice when she related the incident to Gwenaseth
afterwards.

“I don’t know,” Gwenaseth answered gently.
“I think you must be patient and give them time to accept you.”

Aurora frowned. “Could it be Esylt’s doing?”
she asked, suddenly suspicious. “Perhaps she has poisoned their
minds against me.”

Gwenaseth shook her head. “No, I don’t think
so. They treated me much the same at first, and while Esylt is no
friend of mine, she had no reason to turn people against me. I’m
afraid it’s just their way. The Cymru of the hills are a very
tight-knit, clannish people.”

“It seems so... so stupid,” Aurora said in
frustration. “How do they know what kind of person I am if they
don’t give me a chance?”

Gwenaseth tried to soothe her. “Caer Eryri
is not like my home, along the coast, where strangers come every
few weeks bringing goods and news. The people here live in the same
valley where their great-grandparents grew up. The men go off to
fight and learn of new things that way, but many of the women will
never be out of this valley in their lives. Their days are filled
with small worries of their children, their households and their
husbands. A woman like you...” Gwenaseth glanced at Aurora’s rich
gown, the shimmer of jewelry at her slender neck and fine-boned
wrists. “You threaten them, make them feel the dullness of their
lives.”

Aurora sighed. “What of the dullness of my
life? Maelgwn will always go off without me. I hate sewing and
spinning, and Esylt will not allow me any part of the
responsibilities I was trained for by my mother. What am I to do to
fill my days?”

“Well, eventually, God willing, you will
have children to care for.” Gwenaseth smiled dreamily at the
thought. “As for now, you must learn to entertain yourself somehow.
Tell me, what did you do with your time when you were growing
up?”

Aurora frowned, remembering the idle hours
she had spent with Marcus. “Well, I did have certain
responsibilities. It was my job to see to the butter-making each
week and to help my mother with the inventory of all household
supplies. Of course, we all took turns spinning and weaving, and
for a long time I had lessons with Arian. I complained about it
then, but now I miss it. And here... here there are no books to
read nor anyone to teach me.”

Homesickness was creeping over Aurora again,
and her voice began to quaver slightly. “But most of all, when the
weather was fine, I went riding. It was wonderful to feel the wind
blow in my hair and smell the sweet fragrance of honeysuckle and
apple blossoms in my father’s orchards, or to go into the woods and
hear the warblers and green plovers calling.”

“Why can’t you go riding here?” Gwenaseth
asked.

“I suppose I could,” Aurora said
thoughtfully. “But who would go with me? You’ve already told me
that you hate riding and none of the other women would willingly
consent to spend time with me.”

Gwenaseth had to agree. No woman she knew
would choose to tramp about on a horse for pleasure. Esylt had her
own horse and sometimes went riding, but then she, too, was royalty
and far removed from the average woman’s lot.

“I could send Elwyn,” Gwenaseth said with a
bright smile. “After all, Maelgwn told him to look after you while
he was away.”

Aurora was uneasy with Gwenaseth’s
suggestion. She liked Elwyn very much, too much considering that
she was married already and he was betrothed to Gwenaseth.

She was also afraid that going riding with
him would bring back the memories of Marcus that she had tried to
put out of her mind.

“I don’t think Maelgwn would like it if I
took Elwyn away from his work. Maybe I should go by myself. I’m
sure it’s safe if I don’t venture out of the valley.”

Gwenaseth looked doubtful, but eventually
went along with the idea.

It was not as easy to persuade Flavian in
the stables. Paithu had been let out to pasture near the fortress,
and one of the slave boys would have to go and fetch her. But
Aurora used her warm smile and soft voice to its best advantage,
and soon the lovely gray mare was ready to depart.

It was a warm, sunny day, with only a slight
breeze to ripple the silvery green leaves of the trees in the
valley. Aurora wore her old, stained dress from Viroconium, and her
hair was done up in braids. Her thick hair was especially
cumbersome outdoors, and since Maelgwn was not here to care how she
wore it, she had decided that the long braids the Cymru women wore
would be both practical and comfortable.

It felt good to be riding again, and Aurora
wondered why she had not thought of it before. She gave Paithu free
rein and headed down the track at a gallop. Aurora’s heart soared
in her chest, filling her with a warm happiness. She had already
learned that clear sunny days were a rarity in Gwynedd. More often
it was rainy and overcast. She marveled now at the vivid colors
that the sunshine revealed. There was every shade of green
imaginable shading the wide sweep of the valley and the verdant
loveliness was highlighted with the sparkle of silvery rocks and
the fleeting color of wildflowers scattered over the rugged
terrain. Farther down the valley, the glitter of two quiet,
gray-blue lakes caught her eye.

Aurora followed the pathway down to the
river and skirted the squalid village on her way to the largest of
the lakes. The soft light turned the lake waters a pale blue that
contrasted prettily with the green of the reeds and grasses around
it. As she paused at the edge of the lake, a slight breeze ruffled
the loose strands of hair at the base of Aurora’s neck and cooled
her sweaty skin. Paithu tossed her head suddenly, and Aurora
realized that her horse was thirsty. The bright green and blue
flies had already discovered the mare’s delicious, salty skin, and
Aurora decided to allow the horse to walk eagerly into the shallows
to drink and drive away her tormenters.

When the mare had drunk her fill, Aurora
rode on looking for a dry spot away from the damp marshes with
their hordes of insects. She finally found a small cove surrounded
by boulders where she could dismount and sit comfortably on the
gravelly shore. Clasping her arms around her knees, Aurora leaned
back and watched the wheeling circles of the birds overhead. A
languid calm filled her. The lake water was glassy and still, and
only the call of the water birds—fishers and black-backed
gulls—broke the peaceful spell of the place. Aurora closed her eyes
and breathed deeply. It seemed she could smell the salty scent of
the sea, which she knew was only a few dozen miles away. She
inhaled the strange, exotic fragrance deeply. The warmth of the sun
and the humid air enveloped her, and she grew sleepy and
content.