Dragon of the Island (25 page)

A cold sweat was forming on Aurora’s rapidly
chilling skin, and her stomach churned with dread. She got up. She
must find Maelgwn and speak to him. She must beg him—this time with
words instead of caresses—to change his mind, to give her another
chance.

Aurora groped for her clothes. As usual,
they were strewn carelessly on the floor. She could not find one
sandal, and she had to crawl awkwardly on the floor to look for it.
At last she found everything and dressed with clumsy, shaking
fingers. The clasp to her brooch eluded her, so she threw her cloak
aside and left the room wearing only her loose gown.

The night was cloudy, and without a torch,
the mazelike pathways of the fortress were dark and confusing.
There were so many buildings past the great hall—the harness shop,
the smithy, the stables, the kennels. Aurora was running, darting
from one dark shape to the next. Surely the barracks were here, but
no, she was too far, a freeman’s hut showed its squat roundness to
her right. She backtracked again, glancing up helplessly at the
eerie starless sky that begrudged her any light.

At last she found the solid, square shape of
the barracks and turned the corner, looking for the light of a lamp
in the part of the building that Maelgwn used as an office and
council room. Everything seemed black and formless, and Aurora felt
the panic rising in her chest. It was not the damp, dark night
which frightened her, but something else. It seemed somehow very
urgent that she find Maelgwn and talk to him tonight.

In her confusion, Aurora nearly ran into
Balyn as he stepped out of a doorway in front of her. Aurora gave a
little yelp of fright, and Balyn reached out instinctively to
steady her. He held the torch up to her face.

“My lady, what is it?” he asked
worriedly.

“Maelgwn. I must find Maelgwn,” she said
breathlessly. “Where is he?”

“I’m sorry, he is gone,” Balyn answered
gently. “He left but a few minutes ago.”

Aurora let out a small moan of dismay, and
Balyn held the torch closer to see that she was all right. He
noticed that her hair was unbound and disheveled, and she wore only
a light gown with no jewelry or ornament.

“What is it?”

Aurora shook her head and looked away. After
a moment she asked dully, “Where has he gone?”

“To the coast, to escort Abelgirth back for
the wedding. I thought him crazed to set off so soon, with only
Rhys to escort him, but he seemed determined, and I do not argue
with Maelgwn when he is in that mood...”

Balyn’s voice trailed off slightly, and he
looked at Aurora in embarrassment. It seemed clear that Maelgwn and
his wife had quarreled, and Maelgwn had been angry enough to ride
off foolishly into the night, even though his legs were still stiff
from his last journey. It must have been some fight, Balyn thought
grimly. Aurora looked pale and anguished, and she trembled at his
touch.

“Here, let me find Lady Gwenaseth,” he
suggested sympathetically. “She can help you to bed.”

“Don’t worry,” he added after a moment.
“Maelgwn will be back soon—Lughnasa is only six days away—he will
be home by then.”

As the sound of his horse’s footfalls fell
into a steady rhythm, Maelgwn leaned back and inhaled the damp
night air deeply. He felt better with Caer Eryri behind him, but he
could not relax completely yet. Riding at night was treacherous. No
matter how well he knew the country there were always hidden bogs
and sharp ravines that could be deadly in the dark. Still, this was
the kind of danger he had been trained to deal with since
childhood, and it did not unsettle him. In fact, he relished the
fear that cleared his mind and honed his senses to a keen edge.

Beside him rode Rhys, sleepily struggling to
sit upright in the saddle. Maelgwn squinted in the darkness to see
his companion’s face. No doubt Rhys was confused and irritable to
have been rousted out of a comfortable bed for this journey.
Maelgwn had abruptly ordered him to dress and be ready to ride,
offering no explanation for their sudden departure.

How
could
he explain the panic that
had risen in him—as if the very nearness of Aurora was enough to
weaken and enslave him? He had been foolish to let Aurora get so
close to him. Surely he should have learned from his mother and his
sister that all women were trouble. For a while he had thought
Aurora was different, but now he knew that her soft loveliness made
her even more dangerous. She would use him just as Esylt had, and
the more he indulged himself in the pleasures of her body, the
weaker and more helpless he would become. He needed to get away
from her before her evil beguilement took hold completely and
robbed him of his manhood forever.

The clouds shifted, and there was a faint
glow of moonlight showing through the trees. Maelgwn’s horse
started as the ghostly paleness of a wood owl swept past them in
the night, but his hands were sure on the reins. They were almost
there. Maelgwn could see Abelgirth’s stronghold in the
distance—perched on a high cliff above the coast. The smell of the
sea was in his nostrils, and he could almost ride blind, floating
on the night air like a boat upon the seafoam.

Abelgirth was still abed when Maelgwn
arrived at Llanfaglan and was escorted to his chambers. A
dusky-skinned, raven-haired girl was with him, and she glared at
Maelgwn coldly before stalking off naked, affording him a
tantalizing view of her dainty heart-shaped buttocks as she walked
away.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything,”
Maelgwn said coyly as Abelgirth grunted and began to to rouse
himself.

“Nah, nah. It has been years since I felt
the urge again in the morning.” Abelgirth hauled his bulk out of
the bed to sit on the edge of it and rub his eyes sleepily. “What
is it Maelgwn? Is it war? My daughter? What—that you should ride
here so early?”

“It’s none of that. I’ve just come to escort
you back to Caer Eryri for the wedding and Lughnasa.”

“And rode all night to do it, by the looks
of you! Good god man, you could have sent one of your men, an
escort wasn’t even necessary. Besides...” he added as he stood and
stretched. “I thought you were still visiting the Brigantes.”

“Aye, I just returned from there
yesterday.”

Abelgirth stopped and stared at Maelgwn’s
dusty, weary face and bloodshot eyes. “Don’t play games with me
Maelgwn, clearly something is wrong. Did all not go well with
Cunedda?”

Maelgwn shifted restlessly, the fatigue was
catching up with him. “There was an unpleasant incident with
Aurora, but I don’t think it will have lasting damage.”

“What happened?”

“Somehow Cunedda’s son, Ferdic, got the idea
to present Aurora with a trophy head—a gift worthier than gold they
say. You can imagine her reaction.”

“Can I not, though,” Abelgirth chortled. “I
know how my Gwenaseth would react to such a thing. Did your wife
jump up and scream? You can hardly hold such behavior against a
fair-born woman.”

“Nay, I do not, and yet I am reminded again
just how ill-chosen my new bride has turned out to be.”

“What is this? The last time I saw you, you
seemed besotted with the lass. For some men it might just mean the
newness had worn off, but you—I counted you more loyal than that,
even in the bedchamber.”

Maelgwn laughed harshly. The glimmer of a
smile was gone from his face, and he looked more tired than ever.
“Make no mistake, Aurora still makes my blood run hot. Perhaps that
is the problem. I do not like to be in thrall to a mere woman.”

“What has she done to send you out into the
darkness like a man fleeing an evil spirit?”

Maelgwn sat down heavily on a stool in the
bedchamber.

“She quarrels with Esylt, defies me and then
tries to win back my favor with her alluring body. I am tired of
her manipulations.”

“It seems to me that she is using the only
weapons she has to make a place for herself at Caer Eryri. It
cannot be easy for her with Esylt there.”

“She is only a woman. It’s not her place to
make demands.” Maelgwn retorted bitterly. “I’ll not have my wife
rule me!”

Abelgirth glanced at Maelgwn’s flushed weary
face. It seemed clear the king was fooling himself. If he really
cared so little for his wife’s feelings, he would not be so
distraught.

“Let us forget your troubles for now,”
Abelgirth soothed. “You need sleep. I’ll have Cadwyl take you to
the guest chambers.”

Maelgwn woke up refreshed. The brisk sea air
of Llanfaglan always invigorated him, and by daylight his long
night ride seemed like a foolish whim. He wandered to the kitchen
where the servants told him that Abelgirth was out hawking. After
eating the hearty breakfast they brought him, Maelgwn set out on
horseback to find his host.

The track he was directed to led straight
down to the coast and out on a promontory. Here there was the
constant cry of the gulls and cormorants, and the dull restless
thrashing of the sea on the rocks far below. The land itself was
barren and rough, with grass and sea pinks struggling for a
foothold on the gray rocks. The country was very different from the
highlands, even though it was not that far away. Maelgwn knew that
if he turned east he would be able to see the misty rose peak of Yr
Wyddfa in the distance, rising high above the coast.

Maelgwn rode quickly toward the figure of
Abelgirth, who was ambling along with a large hawk perched on his
shoulder. The bird and the man both seemed to be watching the rocks
below, and with the din of the surf, Maelgwn was almost upon them
before Abelgirth turned and smiled at him.

“Sleep well my friend? You look better for
the rest.”

“Aye, I feel much better. Thank you for your
hospitality,” Maelgwn said, dismounting.

Abelgirth shrugged. “No thanks necessary. I
have as much interest as anyone in keeping the king of Gwynedd
healthy and sharp-minded. The air and peacefulness here will do you
good. I often come here when my mind is tangled about
something.”

“This is not the usual country for hawking,”
Maelgwn said, motioning to the elegant russet and cream-colored
bird. “There seems little prey here to provide you with sport.”

Abelgirth nodded, stroking the bird’s sleek
feathers tenderly. “Mostly I take them for company.”

Maelgwn stared at the hawk’s wicked-looking
amber eye. He had always liked falconry, although it seemed he had
little time for such entertainment. Still, he would not have
thought of the birds as companions.

The two men walked together along the rocks,
staring out at the sea while Maelgwn’s stallion grazed.

“The sea gets in your blood just as the
mountains do,” Maelgwn mused after a few moments of silence. “I can
see that it would be hard to leave this place if you grew up
here.”

“Aye, it would be hard for me, although
Gwenaseth did not seem to find it wrenching. She wants only to be
with her beloved Elwyn. I take it all goes well for their
wedding?”

Maelgwn nodded. “The women have it in hand.”
Abelgirth watched the younger man carefully. He didn’t want to
overstep the bounds of his friendship, but he wondered if Maelgwn
had softened yet in his attitude toward Aurora.

“So, after a good night’s sleep, are you
more disposed to forgive your wife her terrible faults?”

Maelgwn shrugged. “It’s nothing. I see now
that I was overreacting. She’s merely a woman; she can do
nothing.”

“You were quite distraught when you first
came here. Are you sure there isn’t more to it than that?”

“Of course,” Maelgwn answered briskly. “I
have held myself close to Aurora for too long. One night with
another woman, and I will be cured of my weakness for her.” Maelgwn
smiled widely, showing his big, strong teeth. “Speaking of which,
is that little dark-haired girl someone special, or would you be
willing to share?”

The furrows in Abelgirth’s broad forehead
deepened. “She’s just an ambitious little fisherman’s daughter. But
really Maelgwn, I don’t think you are taking the right approach
with your wife. I, too, tried to run away from my feelings, and
I’ve regretted it ever since.”

“There is a difference,” Maelgwn said rather
sharply. “You said you were in love with your wife. Me... I cannot
love any woman. What I feel for Aurora is no more than raw
lust.”

“We shall see,” Abelgirth said softly, and
for a moment his dark eyes looked as shrewd and sharp as the
hawk’s. “We shall see.”

Aurora was sewing quietly in the tower
chamber. There was a soft knock, and Gwenaseth entered, breathing
hard from her run up the stairs.

“I have good news, Aurora. The king and my
father have been sighted in the valley.”

Aurora tried to keep her face
expressionless, but her breathing quickened. She could not help
it—she had been counting the hours until Maelgwn returned.

“I can hardly wait,” said Gwenaseth
dreamily. “Tomorrow Elwyn and I will be married in the chapel and
then handfast at the Lughnasa ceremony.”

Lughnasa—the word intrigued Aurora. For as
long as she could remember, the ancient festival had been shrouded
in mystery and a sense of the forbidden. Perhaps it was time she
found out what it meant.

“Gwenaseth, tell me—what do you do at
Lughnasa?”

“We celebrate the coming harvest and the
bounty of the earth. The celebration is named for Lugh—god of the
sun. Here in Gwynedd we also worship Cernunnos—the god of the hunt.
I don’t know the exact meaning of the celebration, but it is very
old. Have you never participated in a festival, Aurora?”

Aurora shook her head. “The people who live
in the hills around Viroconium still gather to honor the old gods,
but my parents were Christians, and they considered such things
immoral and blasphemous.”

Gwenaseth looked startled. “My father and I
are Christians, but we also observe the seasonal festivals. I don’t
understand how that can be wrong.”