Dragon of the Island (42 page)

Aurora forced herself to put her despairing
thoughts aside. While she and Maelgwn still breathed, there was
hope. But where was Elwyn? Was he safe? Had he been able to
escape?

Aurora sat up and strained her eyes ahead to
where the main part of Gwyrtheyrn’s army marched. Surely they
should meet with Maelgwn soon. She could see the gray and russet
hills in the distance—-if Maelgwn had come back from Manau Gotodin
when she sent him the message, he could not be far away now. But
what if he hadn’t? If Maelgwn didn’t stop him, Gwyrtheyrn would
march into Gwynedd and destroy everything in his path. Aurora felt
her agonized stomach convulse in fear. So much depended on whether
Maelgwn had trusted her at last.

Aurora touched her stomach, feeling the
deceptive taut, flatness of it. It was hard to believe that a baby
was growing within her, but the signs were clear. When she had
missed her bleeding time several weeks ago, she thought at first it
was because she was so unhappy and upset. But now it all made
sense—the sickness in the morning, the fatigue that lingered long
after her head wound was healed. Still, she had not known for sure
until she had the dream about Maelgwn; then she realized that she
carried a part of him with her always.

Maelgwn’s baby—what would it look like, she
wondered? Would it have his beautiful blue eyes, his dark, nearly
black, hair? She frowned. If it was a boy, it could look like
Maelgwn, but a girl like him would seem too much like Esylt. Just
the thought of her made Aurora shudder. She had been right about
her sister-in-law, but there was no glory in it, no satisfaction.
She thought of how hurt Maelgwn would be when he learned of his
sister’s betrayal. Aurora’s heart went out to her husband. She did
not want him to suffer again because of Esylt.

Aurora craned her neck to look ahead to
where the long river of soldiers ended on the horizon. She must
keep her wits about her. If the armies met today she would have to
try and get away, to escape and find her way back to Maelgwn.

They traveled on—a bouncing, jarring,
tedious ride. At midday, Aurora was able to coax the wagon driver
into getting her some water. She drank it greedily and ate some
dried meat and hard cheese from her pack. The food and drink
soothed her stomach, but her heart was still gripped with icy
fear.

The day was sunny and unseasonably mild.
They had crossed a long stretch of hilly country, and there was no
sign of the Cymru army. Aurora could not help feeling anxious as
she saw that the army ahead was fast outstripping the supply
wagons. They were being left behind, and it seemed her chances of
rescue grew more and more remote.

It was well into the afternoon when—like a
cry on the wind—word came that the battle was engaged. The two
armies had finally met. Aurora waited, feeling terrified and
useless. From where she was, stuck in the back behind the supply
lines, she could tell next to nothing about the direction the
battle was going. All that was visible ahead was a swarming
blackness, accompanied by the dim, indistinct sound of violence.
The wagon driver waited with her apathetically, and Aurora decided
that he was a slave, and like Marcus, cared little who won and
whether his ownership changed hands.

It seemed like hours that Aurora lay back on
the hard, bumpy grain bags, praying to whatever gods she thought
would listen. The sun beat down, and Aurora could hear the faint
whistle of the wind across the frozen grasslands. If you ignored
the distant battle sounds, everything around them was still and
silent, and except for an occasional raven flying overhead to join
the battle feast, no signs of life stirred over the brown and gray
hills. Aurora could feel death in the air, and she imagined
Maelgwn’s face in her mind, willing him to live, to come back to
her.

The sun was slipping toward the horizon and
the line of stalled wagons cast long dark shadows across the hills
when Aurora saw a lone horseman riding toward her. She sat up
quickly, hardly daring to breathe—it looked like Elwyn. Then, in a
second, Aurora left the wagon and went running toward him.

“Elwyn, Elwyn!” she cried. “What is
happening? How goes the battle?”

Elwyn shook his head grimly. His face was
white beneath the smudges of dirt that marked it.

“It is awful, Aurora,” he said in an
anguished voice. “The fighting is fierce, and neither army will
retreat.”

His breathing came in deep gasps. “For a
long time I could not get away, and then the man guarding me was
killed... it seemed to take forever to find you.”

“Maelgwn,” Aurora asked in a whisper. “Is he
all right?”

Elwyn shook his head. “His banner still
stood when I was close enough to see... but I don’t know for
sure.”

“I hope I did the right thing, Elwyn,”
Aurora said faintly. “I tried to help him.” She looked up at Elwyn
anxiously. “My father’s men—are they fighting for Gwyrtheyrn or
against him?”

Elwyn shook his head again. “I can’t tell.
Everything is mud... and blood.”

“What shall we do, Elwyn? Shall we wait
here? I don’t know if I can stand it.”

Elwyn looked at Aurora again with his ashen,
frightened face.

“I
should
take you away from here,
back toward Viroconium, where you would be safe. But...” he smiled
at her weakly. “I know that you would never leave Maelgwn... as
long as he lives.”

Aurora reached up to grab Elwyn’s hand.
“Take me to him, Elwyn. I cannot wait any longer. Even if I am to
die by his side... I want to be there.”

Elwyn dismounted and helped Aurora up on the
front of the saddle. “It will be dangerous,” he said softly into
her ear as he climbed on behind her. “I may have to have you guide
the horse so I can fight.”

Aurora nodded, and they were off.

They rapidly passed the supply lines and
moved into the swarm of soldiers. They saw frightened, dazed faces,
a skirmish here and there, and dozens of wounded men. The horse
shied and hesitated as they picked their way over bodies, and the
warm, metallic smell of blood filled their nostrils.

Now and then someone would try and stop
them, and Aurora held the reins in her trembling fingers as Elwyn
wielded his sword, striking, chopping and stabbing at their
pursuers. Aurora looked away, trying to concentrate on the way
ahead of them. She felt her face being splashed with blood. At
first it was warm, but then it grew colder as it dried on her
skin.

Gwyrtheyrn’s army was retreating. Waves of
soldiers were running at them. Their eyes were glazed with fatigue
and death, and Aurora cringed as Elwyn urged the horse through
their ranks, slashing out brutally with his sword. There was no
sign of Gwyrtheyrn or her father.

They neared the battlefront. There were more
bodies, and the moans and cries of the wounded and dying were
everywhere. Aurora wanted to look away, to close her eyes, but she
dared not—she still guided the horse. She had never known such
horrors existed as she saw: the tangle of mauve and purple
intestines spilling upon the ground, faces slashed unrecognizably,
bodies twisted into impossible shapes, and blood everywhere,
coating the soggy ground with a foul slime.

But worst of all were the ravens. They were
already devouring the fallen bodies, and with their pitiless,
glassy eyes and short cruel cries of delight, they reminded Aurora
of black-hooded gods of doom. Except for the ravens, this close to
the battlefront it was a wasteland, and they rode on unhindered.
Here no one was left whole to challenge them.

At last they reached the Cymru line. They
saw wounded men being attended to, and there was some semblance of
order. Aurora squinted, searching the horizon frantically for
Maelgwn’s standard of crimson and gold. It was dusk now and
everything had faded to dark shapes floating in the eerie
light.

She turned back to gasp at Elwyn.

“Where is he?”

Elwyn did not answer her, and they continued
riding. Some of the soldiers stared at them with startled looks of
recognition, but no one called out or tried to halt them. The men’s
faces were pale and expressionless, and Aurora began to fear the
worst.

“We must stop,” she begged Elwyn. “We have
to ask someone—-I cannot bear not knowing.”

Elwyn halted before a young soldier who
seemed to be guarding a pile of bodies.

“Maelgwn,” he called. “Where is
Maelgwn?”

The young soldier shook his head. “I know
not—I saw his banner fall, but I’m not sure what happened.”

“What direction was his standard when it
fell?”

“Ahead of you,” the soldier pointed. “If he
lives, the king must be that way.”

Elwyn whipped the horse into a canter.
Aurora held on, feeling the wind sucking into her throat. They saw
a tent and headed for it. As they neared, Aurora recognized Balyn
and Evrawc. They looked exhausted and dazed, and as she and Elwyn
rode up the two men stared at them as if they could not believe
what they saw.

In an instant Aurora had slid off the horse
and run to Balyn.

“The king,” she shouted. “How does the
king?”

Balyn looked terribly tired, but still he
smiled.

“Come,” he said. “Let me take you to
him.”

Inside the tent, Maelgwn was lying on pile
of sheepskins and blankets. His face was pale and drawn, but Aurora
could see no visible wounds. As soon as he saw her, his eyes
widened and he whispered her name and struggled to sit up.

Aurora went to kneel beside him. She reached
with trembling fingers to touch his face, as if she could not
believe he was real.

“Maelgwn, are you hurt?”

Maelgwn looked at her like a starving man
who finds himself before a banquet.

“Aye, I took a sword wound in my thigh. I
cannot sit my horse for now.”

“But you are so pale,” Aurora murmured.

“Ah, Aurora,” Maelgwn laid a reassuring hand
upon hers. “I have been to the spirit world and back these last few
hours. We have lost many men—the army of the Cymru will be crippled
for a generation—and until just a moment ago, I believed you were
dead as well.”

“Why?” Aurora asked, startled.

“We found Paithu, but there was no sign of
you or Elwyn. I had my men search all around the area where
Gwyrtheyrn was killed, and there was no trace of you. I thought
surely he would keep you near him, as a hostage.”

Aurora smiled faintly. “I don’t think he
thought you would want me back. I told him that I was running away
from you, that Elwyn and I were lovers.”

Maelgwn reached up to pull a strand of hair
from her face with a tender gesture. “You are a clever girl, my
love.” Then he glanced toward the entrance of the tent.

“Where is Elwyn?”

“I am here, my lord,” Elwyn said, walking in
wearily.

Maelgwn’s face became cool and
expressionless. “I warned you once, Elwyn, about interfering in my
marriage. It would seem you do not listen.”

Elwyn seemed to cringe, and his hazel eyes
were frightened.

Then Maelgwn smiled and his face became
almost radiant.

“I never thought I would be thanking one of
my men for disobeying me.” Maelgwn held out his hand. “I will
always be grateful to you for taking care of Aurora.”

Elwyn took the hand that the king offered
and nodded solemnly. Then he looked at Aurora. “My lord, I must
admit that I once envied you your wife, but now...” he shot Aurora
a mischievous grin, “... now I see that she is entirely too much
trouble.”

They all shared a moment of giddy laughter.
Then it was Aurora’s turn to become serious.

“My father,” she said suddenly. “What has
happened to him?”

Maelgwn reached up again to caress Aurora’s
face.

“Your father honored his agreement with me
at last. When the fighting began, those men from Viroconium who
could, fled Gwyrtheyrn’s army and joined ours.”

“And my father?” Tears glittered in Aurora’s
eyes—already she knew.

“I am sorry, Aurora,” Maelgwn said gently.
“He was cut down by Gwyrtheyrn’s men.”

Aurora tried to act like a queen, to be
strong, but it was no use. She buried her head in Maelgwn’s arms
and wept bitterly.

Maelgwn was meeting with some of his men
when Aurora went to the door of the office and stood there
shyly.

“Come in,” Maelgwn said when he saw her.
Aurora entered, and several of the men stood up. Both Evrawc and
Balyn offered her a seat on the bench they were using.

“Nah, nah,” Maelgwn said. “She can sit with
me.”

Aurora walked behind the table near Maelgwn,
and looked at him uneasily.

“I won’t hurt you?”

“Of course not!” he answered impatiently,
pulling her onto his lap. “My leg is almost healed, and you are not
heavy... yet.” He patted her stomach and smiled at her
indulgently.

Aurora blushed. She could not get used to
this new Maelgwn. He could be so playful and familiar. The way he
acted toward her in front of his men often embarrassed her.

“Now, where were we?” Maelgwn began again.
“Aye, we were discussing what to do about the kingship of
Viroconium—do you have any ideas, Aurora?”

Aurora was thoughtful. “I can think of
someone who would be strong, but fair, and well-loved by the
people, too.”

“Who is that?” Maelgwn asked.

“My sister.”

“You mean Julia?”

Aurora nodded. “Why not?” she asked
defensively as she looked around at the doubtful faces of the men.
“She would be a good ruler. If she were a man, no one would
question it.”

“But that’s just it,” Maelgwn protested.
“Viroconium needs a strong commander to defend the town.”

“Perhaps we could marry her off to an
appropriate warrior,” Balyn suggested. “She is young and fair
enough, it should be easy to find a man willing.”

Evrawc cleared his throat. “I don’t know
whether this is appropriate, but I would like to suggest
myself.”