The Dragon Prince (16 page)

“Sweet Jesu,” he breathed. “That was close.”
He shook his head, as if shaking off a terrifying dream. Then his
grip relaxed and he looked around. “Walk ahead of me,” he said. “I
don’t think anyone would attack us here, but I can’t be sure.”

They retraced their steps through the
market. It was very crowded and few people took note of them. Those
who did quickly backed away at seeing a grim-faced warrior with his
bloodied sword. As Rhun gently but firmly guided her along, his
left hand on her waist, Eastra’s mind whirled. In the space of a
few heartbeats, she’d seen two very different sides of this man—the
tender lover who’d made her half swoon, and the ferocious warrior
who’d fought off six men by himself. It was hard for her to
reconcile the two beings into one.

But as her shock faded, it was replaced by a
kind of elation. For a brief moment, she’d experienced his desire
and longing. He did care for her, she was certain. She licked her
lips, remembering the taste of him. And if they had not been
interrupted, there would have been more. Much more. She could
imagine him touching her body, those callused warrior’s hands
moving over her skin with keen finesse. Her nipples peaked at the
thought. She’d never wanted a man like this, with her whole,
throbbing being. But now he was tense with caution. She wondered
when she would ever have a chance to be alone with him again, to
experience that magic when they had looked into each other’s eyes
and everything else vanished. She suppressed a sigh.

* * *

Rhun glanced around for the dozenth time,
wondering if they were being watched. Someone had seen them leave
the market to snatch a moment alone. In that moment, they had
struck.

The attack had been well planned. They had
converged on them when he was most vulnerable, his every sense and
faculty consumed by the woman in his arms. It was terrifying to
consider what might have happened if they had waited a few moments
longer to attack. In another second his hands would have been
cupping Eastra’s breasts, and he would not have been able to move
so quickly. In another second the throbbing heat in his loins would
have erased all rational thought from his mind. But his enemy had
been impatient, and so he had survived. When he caught a glimpse of
movement from the corner of his eye, instinct had taken over.

He wondered what the men would have done if
he had not pulled himself together in time. Would they have killed
him where he stood and then grabbed Eastra? She had not been
touched, but that might be because he had pushed her behind him and
they would have had to kill him to get to her. If they had
succeeded, would she have been killed also, or captured? Was it
possible she was the reason for the attack?

The questions gnawed at him. He needed to
know what enemy he faced. Had Saxon spies discovered Eastra was in
Londinium and sought to rescue her? Or did some other unknown enemy
seek to kill him? Was Eastra merely a hapless bystander, or the
goal of the attack?

They reached their escort. The men were
sprawled over a grassy open area playing knucklebones, the horses
nearby, still saddled and bridled, their tails swishing at flies.
The men got to their feet as they saw him, and Amlawdd saluted.
Abruptly, his gaze went to Rhun’s drawn sword. “Trouble?” he
asked.

Rhun nodded. “We were attacked on the other
side of the market. I fought them off, but I have no desire to
linger here.”

Amlawdd nodded, then gestured toward the
market. “Didn’t you buy anything?”

“Oh, I near forgot,” Rhun said. “Send Bryn
and Merddin to fetch our purchases. Tell them to go to the second
draper’s stall. Also to the cobbler’s on the far end and to the man
selling basketwork nearby. Have them take a pack-horse.”

Amlawdd nodded. He gave the two men their
orders, while the others fetched the other horses. Rhun wiped his
sword on the grass and sheathed it. He motioned to his stallion,
Cadal, now stamping and pacing. “You will ride with me, Eastra. If
we are bothered further, I will be better able to protect you that
way.” As he grasped her slender waist to help her up, a lingering
wave of regret swept through him. Although part of him shuddered at
the thought of what would have happened if they had been left alone
a few moments longer, another part of him still throbbed with
yearning at the loss of that instant when they were entwined in
each other’s arms. If a man had to die, why not in the midst of the
most enthralling embrace he had ever experienced?

They rode quickly through the city streets.
When they reached Aurelius’s house, Rhun slid off Cadal and quickly
helped Eastra down. “I’m going to take you to the bedchamber where
you slept last night. I want you to gather up your things quickly.
We’re leaving Londinium tonight.”

Her eyes were wide. “Do you expect another
attack?”

“I don’t know, but I’m not going stay here.
Once we are on the road with our escort arrayed around us, I’ll
feel much more comfortable.”

He spoke to the porter at the gate. The man
let them in; then Rhun led Eastra through the garden toward the
guest wing. When they reached the door of her bedchamber, he
paused. “I’m sorry the day ended like this. I warned Bridei before
we even arrived in Londinium that this was not a pleasure trip.
Then I forgot my own warning.”

She smiled suddenly. “But for a while it was
wonderful, was it not?”

His breath caught in his throat. He wanted
to kiss her, to hold her in his arms once again. But he dared not.
If he gave in to that intense, agonizing urge, they would be inside
the room and sprawled on the bed in no time. He must remember his
duty. And he must remember he had very nearly been killed a short
while ago. “I must go,” he answered thickly. He opened the door for
her. She nodded and went in.

Rhun immediately went to the bedchamber
where he had spent the night. If he had expected to find Bridei
still sleeping it off, he was disappointed. There was no sign of
his brother. Rhun quickly packed up his things in his saddle pack,
then did the same with Bridei’s belongings. Dumping the packs
outside the door, he set out to find his brother.

“There you are.”

Bridei looked up as Rhun entered Aurelius’s
atrium. He raised his dark brows. “What do you need me for,
brother? I thought you would be content with Eastra’s company for
the rest of the day.”

“She and I were just attacked,” Rhun said
bluntly. “Outside the market. Six men. I barely fought them
off.”

“By the Light!” Aurelius exclaimed, sitting
up rapidly. “Where was your escort?”

“Not with them at the time, apparently.” A
hint of a smile curled Bridei’s mouth.

Rhun glared at him. “We could hardly go
tramping through the market with a full complement of
warriors.”

“Were the attackers Saxon or Briton?”
Aurelius asked.

“Briton. But that doesn’t mean anything here
in Londinium, where everyone’s loyalties are uncertain.” Rhun
grimaced. “They might well be working for the Saxons. They looked
like the sort of base wretches who would hire themselves out to
anyone who paid them well.”

Aurelius frowned. “It seems like a lot of
trouble to go to in order to kill one of Arthur’s spies.”

Rhun nodded. He thought the same thing, but
he could hardly discuss his concern that the attackers were trying
to abduct Eastra. Aurelius thought she was nothing more than his
concubine. “Whatever their purpose,” Rhun said, “I want to leave
the city tonight.”

“Now? But I have not visited my other
contacts,” Bridei responded.

“Well, you certainly had time enough. If you
were not so busy flirting with the women and enjoying your wine.”
He motioned with his head toward the jeweled cup in Bridei’s hand.
“I doubt you’ll learn anything more anyway, and I’m eager to leave
this place before something else happens. Londinium makes me
uneasy. With Saxon and Briton living side by side, it makes it
difficult to know who is your enemy and who is not.”

Aurelius rose. “I think your brother is
right,” he said to Bridei. “Someone obviously knows of your mission
here. It might be dangerous to stay longer.”

Bridei rose and set his wine cup on the
table near the couch. “All right. Let me go pack my things.”

“Already done,” Rhun said. “And I met a
servant in the hall and asked him to take our packs out to the
stables. Now all I need to do is fetch Eastra and we can go.”

Aurelius bowed to them. “Give my greetings
to Artorius. And tell him that I’m sorry that his envoy met with
trouble while visiting me. Assure him that I and many of the
merchants of Londinium are cheering on his attempts to rout the
Saxon seawolves from this land.”

Rhun bowed back. “Thank you for your
hospitality, Aurelius. I will give your regards to our
commander.”

Bridei also said his farewells. Then the two
men left the atrium. “So what do you really think?” Bridei asked as
soon as they were alone. “Do you think those men who attacked you
were trying to free Eastra, or possibly take her for a hostage
themselves to use as a bargaining tool against Arthur?”

“I don’t know what to think,” Rhun said.
“Did you not feel that perhaps Aurelius was a little eager to get
us out of his house?”

“Probably. The man wants no trouble
intruding on his comfortable life, and once you told him your tale,
it was clear we represented exactly the sort of complication he
wishes to avoid.”

“Do you think he could have sent the
attackers?” Rhun asked.

Bridei shrugged. “If he meant to be rid of
us, why not have us murdered in our beds? Or feed us poisoned wine
as we supped with him?”

“Because that sort of thing would gain him
dangerous attention. Having me attacked when I am far away from his
house and in a public area is much more subtle and clever.”

“But if you were killed, he would still have
to be rid of me, or else I would go and make my report to Arthur
anyway. For that matter, if he had wanted to kill
me,
he had
plenty of opportunities last night. I went out with no escort into
the darkened streets and to a part of the city that is not very
savory. No, I think Eastra is the key. I think if she had not been
with you, nothing would have happened.”

“You think Cerdic seeks to free her so he
will have the advantage over Arthur?”

“It might not be that simple. Cerdic’s niece
presents a tempting target for any number of reasons. If nothing
else, she could be ransomed for a great deal of wealth.”

“But no one here in Londinium knows who she
is,” Rhun pointed out. Then he turned to face his brother. “Unless
you
have been too loose with your tongue!”

Bridei met his gaze easily. “Or unless the
woman herself has given away her identity. You seem to think Eastra
sees things the same way you do. But she is still a Saxon, for all
that she clearly cares for you.”

“That’s just it!” Rhun exclaimed. “Whatever
else she might do, I don’t believe Eastra would plot to have me
killed. Today I held her in my arms, and I know no woman could
pretend what passed between us!”

“Did you now?” Bridei’s mouth quirked, and
Rhun wished desperately he had held his tongue. “I don’t believe
Eastra would plot your murder, either,” Bridei continued. “But she
might not have realized it would mean that. She might have
accidently let slip to someone who she was—no treachery
intended—and the information found its way to one of our
enemies.”

Rhun thought about Eastra talking to the
slave girl in the garden. He had not overheard what they were
speaking of, but it was possible Eastra had revealed her identity.
And although the slave was not a Saxon, that did not mean she did
not have connections with the enemy.

Rhun took a deep breath. He had to avoid
being alone with Eastra. Not because he thought she would betray
him, but because her mere presence was enough to addle his wits and
throw him off his guard.

* * *

They left Londinium from the same direction
they had arrived. As they passed the towering ruins of the city
gate, Eastra experienced a pang of bitterness. She’d had her chance
to be alone with Rhun, but the moment had been destroyed by
violence. Cursed wretched war! Would she ever be free of its
malignant poison? This conflict between Briton and Saxon had cost
her everything she held dear. Would it also cost her a chance with
Rhun? But he had assured her the journey to his father’s fortress
in Gwynedd would take some days. Surely during that time they would
be alone again. And then, maybe, that potent fire would leap
between them once more, and he would not be able to deny he cared
for her.

They followed the Roman road west. As the
sky turned the deep blue of summer twilight, Rhun and Bridei pulled
to a halt. They spoke briefly. Then Rhun turned in the saddle and
motioned to a distant stand of trees. “We’ll camp there tonight. If
we set a guard, we should be safe enough.”

When they reached the grove of oaks, the men
set about making preparations for the night. Eastra watched with
interest. Rhun and the others were obviously experienced at living
on the land. They set up tents, built a fire, and brought out
provisions. Sitting around the now crackling fire, they passed
around the food—dried meat, rolled-up chewy bannocks, and
earthenware cups of a brewed drink much tangier than the ale Eastra
was used to.

“It’s made from heather,” Bridei told her
when she commented on it. “You have to acquire a taste for it, but
believe me, where we are from, there is much more heather than
barley.”

He was sitting to her right; Rhun to her
left. Rhun had spoken few words since giving the order to camp for
the night. Now he ate silently and stared broodingly into the fire.
She wondered what he was thinking about. The attack, most likely.
It still made her skin prickle to think of the danger they’d been
in. “Who do you think sent those men?” she asked as she wiped the
crumbs of the bannock from her hands.