The Dragon Prince (19 page)

A sharp pang went through him. What splendor
had been in that kiss. He’d never known he could feel such things
with a woman. It was as if her very being was made of light and
music, filling him until he was bursting. It seemed they floated
above the ground, away from the squalid alley where they stood, and
glided into the heavens.

He took a deep breath, then looked around
guiltily. For a moment, he had relaxed his guard and been caught up
in his own thoughts. In that moment, danger could have struck. At
least they had an escort. If they had to depend upon him to spot
all the hazards ahead of them, he feared they would be lost!

But wary and cunning as were the warriors
accompanying them, it was
his
duty, his responsibility to
see them safely to Gwynedd. And he could not do that if he were
riding beside Eastra and gazing on her beautiful face. Aggravating
as the current situation was, he dare not change it. Bridei would
have to remain her companion, and he her protector.

* * *

“Still mooning over my brother, are you?”
Bridei’s sly words startled Eastra. She gazed at him openmouthed,
then said, “Am I so obvious?”

“Just a bit. Let’s say if he was a fat fowl
and you were a fox, you’d have leaped upon him and devoured him by
now, every feather and scrap of gristle.”

Eastra sighed. “I’m sorry. I can’t help
it.”

“Obviously not.”

When Bridei did not speak further, Eastra
asked, “Do my feelings for your brother offend you?”

“No. In fact”—he grinned—“they amuse me
quite a bit. Not very kind of me to say when I know you’re
suffering, but I’ve never seen my brother like this before. Gone is
the cool, calm, unruffled commander, the keen, dangerous warrior.
He seems almost human these days.”

“No, that’s not very kind,” Eastra agreed.
“And furthermore, we were speaking of my feelings, not his.”

“Oh, but his are the same, I assure you.
He’s eaten up with it, absolutely devastated by the knowledge that
he wants you, almost more than he wants to be a good and dutiful
soldier.”

“Almost?”

Bridei shrugged. “He hasn’t given in yet.
Oh, I know he kissed you—and likely a little more—before you were
attacked in Londinium. But that’s just a taste that’s whetted his
appetite. Right now, he’s trying to be good, trying to stay away
from you. And I’m actually helping him, can you believe that? If I
were ignoring you, he would feel even guiltier, and maybe he would
weaken sooner. But I’m bored, I’ll admit it, and you are an
intelligent and interesting woman. Why shouldn’t I flirt with you a
little? It makes the time pass by, at least.”

Eastra was nonplussed. Bridei talked so
openly about things she had some inkling of, but felt she must hide
in the name of discretion and good manners. Finally, she said
“That’s all it is, isn’t it? You’re talking to me to be kind, and
also to make the time pass?”

“Actually, I don’t usually do things to be
kind.” Bridei’s grin was wicked. “But your second assumption is
true. Also, it’s entertaining to see my brother squirm and writhe
with jealousy. It’s a perfectly normal emotion, but he probably
hates himself for feeling it. He’s remarkably virtuous and boring
about that kind of thing.”

Eastra frowned at him. “Some of the things
you say—sometimes I wonder at your character.”

“Oh, don’t bother wondering,” he answered.
“I’m as bad as you think. Rhun is the one whose calling in life is
to be good. I’m the evil one.”

Eastra was startled. “I... I don’t think
that’s true. Otherwise you wouldn’t talk about it like that. You
must have some conscience and kindness inside you or you would
not...” She paused, struggling to understand what she meant to
say.

“Or I would not be charming and pleasant—is
that what you think? But evil is not always dark and repulsive.
Sometimes it’s just the opposite.”

“No, I was thinking that if you were truly
evil, Rhun would not spend time in your company.”

“Why not? He’s my brother. He feels a sense
of responsibility to me. Maybe he even thinks some of his goodness
will rub off.”

Eastra shook her head. She could not put her
finger on it, but something inside her told her Bridei was not
truly wicked, that he was more like his brother than he knew.

“Still don’t believe me? What if I told you
that the reason my father banished me when I was fourteen was
because I raped a woman?”

Eastra stared at him. “Why would you...” She
shook her head. “From what I can see, any number of women would lie
with you willingly. Why would you need to force one?”

Bridei shrugged. “I was young and arrogant.
I didn’t really think she meant it when she said no. And by the
time I understood, it was too late.” He paused, then continued, “It
wouldn’t have mattered if I’d stopped. She still would have gone to
my father, and he still would have acted the same. He wouldn’t even
listen to my side of the story. Shouted at me, told me I was a
monster and I had inherited the tainted blood of his line. I guess
both his sister and his mother were real pieces of work, and I look
a lot like them. So he banished me.”

While what Bridei said shocked her, Eastra
was still not convinced he was as bad as he said. “But if you
regret what you did...” she began cautiously.

“But do I?” Bridei raised his dark brows,
his expression hard. “At least I discovered what my father truly
thinks of me. And now I’m free. I’m not bound by duty and honor
like Rhun is. I can do what I want, whatever pleases me.”

Eastra was unsettled by Bridei’s outlook on
life. She couldn’t help thinking that if everyone thought like
that, there would be no tribes, no duty and law, no sense of order
and structure in life. “What about your mother?” she asked. “Don’t
you care what she thinks? Rhun says she is kindhearted and loving
and good. Even if your father has turned from you, don’t you want
to make
her
proud of you?”

Bridei shrugged. “My mother will love me no
matter what. She doesn’t judge people or close her ears to them
because of something they’ve done. She’s not so obsessed with right
and wrong and good and evil. She believes people must follow their
own path in life.”

Eastra found herself even more intrigued
than she had been previously by this woman called Rhiannon. But her
son—the way Bridei talked about things made her feel as if the
ground had shifted between her feet.

“I’ve said things that trouble you, haven’t
I?” Bridei spoke softly. “I do the same thing to my brother. He
dislikes how I make things seem complicated, until they twist and
turn around like the twining knotwork on a piece of Irish jewelry.
He prefers the old Roman way, with everything organized and
logical. Or the Christian one, with the world divided neatly
between good and evil.”

Eastra nodded at Bridei’s insights into his
brother. She could see Rhun was like that and such an attitude
appealed to her a great deal. It seemed somehow solid and secure,
the way Rhun’s arms felt when they were around her.

“Unfortunately, the way Rhun thinks allows
little room for entanglements like beautiful Saxon princesses.”
Bridei’s grin was back. “For him, you’re a problem... and a
delicious temptation.”

Eastra blushed. It was clear Bridei
understood all too well what had occurred between her and Rhun back
in Londinium.

They rode in silence a ways. Then Bridei
said, “Now, here’s a proposition for you. If I could contrive a way
to make Rhun pay attention to you once again, to make him fall
hopelessly in love with you—would you go along with it?”

Eastra regarded him cautiously. “Are you
suggesting something dishonest or deceitful? Because if you are,
then I will warn you that I won’t do it. I value my own honor more
than that. I won’t betray my own people, and neither will I betray
Rhun.”

“It’s not dishonest, although it could,
perhaps, be dangerous.”

“Dangerous to whom?”

Bridei shrugged. “To both of you. Once
you’re caught up in the throes of passion, you will be vulnerable.
I will do my best to see no harm comes to either of you, but I am
not Rhun, the mighty warrior who can slay six men by himself.”

“So,” she said slowly, “the danger you speak
of would come from Rhun’s enemies?”

“Where else?”

Eastra chewed her lip. Bridei had just told
her he was untrustworthy. Now he offered to help her win Rhun’s
heart. “Why are you doing this?” she asked. “You’ve made it clear
you think primarily of yourself and your own interests. What have
you to gain by bringing Rhun and me together?”

“Perhaps I care for my brother’s happiness.”
Bridei’s voice was bland. “It’s clear having to stay away from you
is eating him up inside. Besides, I will benefit as well. While
Rhun fancies himself more alert and better able to look after you
if he does not spend time in your company, I think otherwise. I
believe if he were not so agonized over the conflict between what
he sees as his duty and what’s in his heart, he would actually be
better equipped to get us all to Gwynedd safely.”

Something about Bridei’s explanation did not
sound right. Eastra decided he was probably up to some mischief. In
fact, she was certain a lot of his interest in helping her was
based on a childish urge to stir up trouble. But even knowing that,
some part of her could not help responding to his offer. Rhun
did
need to forget his sense of duty for a time. It would be
good for him to cast aside his worries and sense of responsibility
and enjoy a few moments of pleasure. Their breathless, thrilling
embrace in Londinium had ended all too quickly. Her heart was in
her throat as she said very softly, “Tell me, what is your
plan?”

* * *

He could not bear it! Rhun shifted away from
the camp-fire, his whole body taut. There was something so
intimate, almost conspiratorial, in the way that Eastra and Bridei
were behaving this night. They sat next to each other, eating
pieces of the roasted hare that Dewi had brought down with his
sling and cooked over the fire. They did not talk much, but what
they did say was exchanged in a murmur, as if they wished no one
else to overhear.

Soon after they had stopped for the night,
Bridei had offered to take Eastra down to a nearby stream so she
could wash. As they walked off together, Rhun had felt a wave of
fury rise up inside him. He should be the one who guided Eastra
among the cool forest glades and pointed out the pale dewdrops and
purple bog orchid growing in among the fern and bracken. The one
who showed her how to creep quietly through the woods so they might
spy a fawn and its mother come down to drink at the water, or catch
a glimpse of a bright lapwing or blue tit flitting among the trees.
He
was the one who should share these wild pleasures with
Eastra, not jaded Bridei, who was familiar with the fleshpots and
markets of Narbonne and Londinium, but knew little of woods
lore.

A little while later, Bridei and Eastra
reappeared and joined the rest of the company around the fire.
While the fact they sat next to each other galled Rhun, it
reassured him to think that at least they were in his sight. The
meal passed slowly. Afterward, Bridei rose to his feet. Rhun
exhaled a sigh of relief. Perhaps now they would all seek out their
beds and he would have a moment’s peace from the raging jealousy
that was eating him alive. But then he saw Bridei head to his
saddle pack, piled with the others, and get out his harp. Rhun
closed his eyes, fighting off frustration. He wanted to throw
Bridei into the nearest tree, then smash his harp into pieces on
the ground. Anything to keep Bridei from playing for Eastra.

Bridei sat down cross-legged a short
distance from Eastra, and the strings of the harp shimmered in the
firelight. He set his hand to the instrument and played a ripple of
notes. Like a cascade of water, they danced through the air. In his
rich, deep voice, Bridei began the tale of Kiernan and Olwen. He
sang how fair Olwen was with her white brow and her shining hair
like a river of gold. Of the bold and heroic Kiernan, and of the
tender love they shared for each other. And he sang of all the
trials Kiernan had endured to win his beloved.

Then he sang another song, this one of a
battle. His voice swelled and rose to the treetops as he described
the clash of weapons and the fierce combat, then softened to a
throbbing whisper as he told of the deaths of Cadwallon and Achlen,
of their bravery and valor, how the women wept for them and the
linnets and nightingales in the tree-tops added their voices to the
fallen heroes’ lament.

Glancing over at Eastra, Rhun felt something
inside himself snap. He jerked to his feet and walked off into the
trees. There he stood in the darkness, taking deep breaths, trying
to calm the turmoil inside him. It was almost as if he hated his
brother. He wondered what kind of person he was to feel such rage
at his own kin. After all, he did not really believe Bridei would
try to seduce Eastra. Even his amoral brother had more honor than
that. But Bridei was obviously winning her over, charming her,
making her forget all about the special moments the two of them had
shared in Londinium. Rhun told himself it was for the best, that
Eastra could never be his anyway. But his heart roared and raged
over the loss like an animal in pain.

At last, in the distance, the silvery voice
of the harp grew still, and he could hear nothing but the vague
rustlings of the birds in the trees as they roosted for the night
and the soft whisper of a night breeze in the boughs overhead. He
took a deep breath, knowing he should go back and seek his bed so
he would be fresh in the morning, yet well aware he would never be
able to sleep. As soon as he closed his eyes, he would be tormented
by the image of Eastra’s rapt expression as she watched Bridei
sing.