The Dragon Prince (20 page)

Instead, he sought out Dewi, who was
guarding the periphery of the camp, and told the warrior he would
take first watch again. Although Dewi said nothing, Rhun saw the
warrior’s speculative look, and he had the awful realization that
every man in the troop was aware of his bitter jealousy. The
thought flooded him with humiliation, and in his rage all he could
think of was going back to camp and thrashing Bridei senseless.

But then he would be doubly a fool, he told
himself. Such a childish display of temper would change nothing and
might even make Eastra favor Bridei all the more. He did not need
to remind her he was a harsh, ruthless warrior when it was already
clear how much she preferred Bridei, with his graceful tongue, his
charm and sophisticated allure.

Staring miserably into the darkness, Rhun
wondered how things could have come to this sorry pass—that he
should be reduced to this level of self-pity and despair. His whole
purpose in life had been to wield a sword and to fight for his
people, his country, and his God, but Eastra had robbed him of his
rock solid belief in that cause. For how could she—beautiful, fine,
and intelligent as she was—be his enemy? His faith in all the
things he thought he believed in was suddenly in doubt. He felt
lost and helpless.

No wonder the bards sang tales of lovely
maidens and their power to bring down mighty warriors. It was true.
Eastra, with her sweet smile and her glowing beauty, had done what
no warrior could. She had brought him to his knees.

He grimaced, fighting for control. He would
not give up yet. Somehow, he would find the will to survive this
journey. He would drive them all ruthlessly, that they might reach
Gwynedd as soon as possible. Once there, he would deliver Eastra to
his father’s fortress and then ride away as fast as Cadal would
take him.

* * *

The next morning, Eastra and Bridei rode
along in silence. This day he shared no stories. Instead, he seemed
to be waiting to see what she would do, if she would follow his
advice. The truth was, she had not decided yet.

Recalling Rhun’s behavior this morning,
which had been just short of rude, Eastra began to wonder if she
had misread him. Maybe he didn’t care for her after all. Those few
moments they had spent in each other’s arms in Londinium might mean
nothing to him. Or perhaps he blamed her for the attack that came
after. He might see her as a danger to himself and want to be rid
of her as soon as possible. Certainly his brusque treatment this
morning implied he felt that way.

But in her heart she did not believe that.
Rhun was behaving like a man seething with frustration and
jealousy. Jealousy—aye, that was it. As short-tempered as he was
with her, Rhun was positively hostile to Bridei, as if looking for
any excuse to leave him behind. And Rhun would only be jealous if
he felt something for her.

So he must care for her. All he needed was
some encouragement, the right circumstances to make him confront
his feelings. She might be able to bring about those circumstances,
if only she had the courage to do so. Chewing on her lower lip,
Eastra considered what she had to lose. If Rhun truly didn’t desire
her, her plan would anger him all the more. But even then, his
sense of honor would not allow him to be too unkind to her. Her
heart would be broken, but at least she would know for certain her
dream was futile.

If, on the other hand, her instincts about
Rhun were true, then oh, what delights, what magic they might enjoy
together! To be alone with Rhun, to feel his strong arms around
her, to smell his enticing male smell, to press her mouth to his
and taste him...

Her breathing quickened at the thought.
There were risks in her plan, but there were always risks in
gaining something worth having.

They were barely out of the glade where they
had camped when Eastra looked at Bridei and nodded. Today she would
risk her heart to find out what Rhun truly felt.

* * *

Rhun glanced up at the sullen, gray sky. It
was going to rain before the day was over. He didn’t like the
prospect of traveling in the rain, but he’d done it many times
before. They could all don the oiled leather capes they kept in
their packs and keep on riding. But with Eastra
in
their
company, it might be better to find a sheltered spot
and
make camp for the night. Yet that would delay their journey all the
more. And he could well imagine them all huddled
in
a
makeshift lean-to, Bridei and Eastra beside each other,
while
he was forced to watch them. No, better to press
on.

The forest was growing denser and it was
slow going. There were places they had to travel single file. That
gave him a respite for a time, to know Bridei and Eastra could not
easily talk as they rode. But the thick cover made him uneasy in
another way. If anyone planned to attack them, this would be a good
opportunity, with all the warriors strung out in a line and unable
to fight off an ambush.

Were they in danger? It seemed unlikely
they’d been followed all the way from Londinium. And yet something
inside him, some instinct, would not allow him to relax. He felt
tense and jumpy, like an animal being hunted.

“Rhun!”

He turned as Bridei called out from behind
him. “Can we not stop for a time?” his brother asked. “Just a brief
respite to stretch and have a drink?” Bridei motioned with his head
toward Eastra, suggesting she was the reason for his request.

Rhun frowned. This was not the best place to
call a halt, and it was scarce past midday. He glanced back again,
and Bridei raised his brows. In his expression was a clear message:
What sort of barbarian are you that you would consider denying
Eastra these few comforts?

Rhun’s grimace deepened. How did Bridei
always manage to put him the wrong, especially when it came to
Eastra? He went a little farther, until they reached a small
clearing. There he turned and shouted back to the other men,
letting them know they were going to stop for a time.

Rhun dismounted. Out of the corner of his
eye, he saw Bridei helping Eastra off her horse. Rhun took a deep
breath, fighting for control. When Eastra walked off into the
underbrush, Rhun approached his brother. “Is she ill?”

Bridei shrugged. “I don’t know. But she did
ask me to ask you if we could stop for a time. You
have
driven her pretty hard on this journey.”

Rhun gritted his teeth at Bridei’s scolding
tone. But his brother was probably right. He’d given little concern
to Eastra’s comfort. And she was not only a woman, but a princess,
and no doubt used to having someone wait upon her. He was suddenly
struck by what a bumbling oaf he was. While they were in Londinium,
he should have insisted they find some young woman to serve as her
maid. But who could they have found? He was quite certain Eastra
would reject the idea of having a slave, but by what other means
would they have been able to procure a female bodyservant to make
this journey?

It didn’t matter now, he told himself. It
was too late to find a female companion for her. He was simply
going to have to be more considerate and try to make her as
comfortable as possible on the rest of the journey.

After a few moments, he glanced up at the
leaden sky. The threat of rain increased by the moment. Where had
Eastra gone off to? He hoped she hadn’t strayed too far from the
path. It was easy to get lost in woods like these. He felt a twinge
of anxiety, thinking he should have insisted one of the men
accompany her. Or gone with her himself. He was responsible for
her. If anything happened...

He took a deep breath, then went to his pack
and dug out his oilskin cape. “I’m going after her,” he told
Bridei.

A fat drop of rain struck Eastra on the
nose. She brushed the wetness away and gave the sky an uneasy
glance. Bridei’s plan did not include rain, and she had not thought
to bring her cloak. While finding cover under some trees would
provide a little protection, if she did that, how would Rhun ever
find her?

Doubts crowded her mind. Bridei had told her
to wait until they reached more forested country. Then she was to
act as if she needed to relieve herself and go off a distance from
the others. Rhun would come to look for her—Bridei assured her of
this—and then she should pretend to have sprained her ankle. While
Rhun examined her ankle and decided what to do, she would have some
time alone with him, an opportunity to reawaken the burning hunger
they had experienced in the alley in Londinium.

A simple plan, and only a little deceitful.
But she had not figured on the weather turning bad. As the wind
whipped her traveling gown and tore at her braids, she considered
forgetting the whole scheme. There would be other opportunities to
entice Rhun. She could implement her plan tomorrow as easily as
today.

She started back. After going some distance,
she stopped. She’d thought that clump of hazel bushes back there
was the one she’d passed soon after leaving the others. But if that
were the case, she should be near the horses and the rest of the
traveling party by now. She turned around, trying to remember what
landmarks she’d passed. Suddenly, all the trees and bushes seemed
to look alike. More raindrops splattered on her face, increasing
her sense of urgency.

She thought she recognized a hawthorn bush
and a stand of oaks further on, but then things grew unfamiliar
again. The rain was increasing, making her shiver as it dampened
her thin gown. Concerns about Rhun finding her were suddenly
replaced by the need to seek shelter. She spied a draw and headed
in that direction. At least there she would be out of the wind.

When she reached the hollow, she heard the
sound of water running and realized she was near a small stream.
Instinct warned her to climb to higher ground in case the rain was
heavy and the stream flooded. She crossed the stream and made her
way up a ridge. The rain pelted her harder and she gave a gasp of
cold and exasperation. Spying a huge oak, she headed toward it. She
sank down into the blanket of mast and dead leaves beneath the
tree. This was as good a place as any to wait out the storm. But
that did not change the fact that she was hopelessly lost.

Where was she? Had she run away? But
where would she run to?
Dark thoughts filled Rhun’s mind as he
hurried through the woods. What if Eastra had planned to escape all
along? What if some of her countrymen had been following them,
waiting for an opportunity to steal back their princess?

But that made no sense. Why would the Saxons
pursue her so deep into British territory? Why not rescue her
nearer to Londinium, if that was their scheme?

Or what if she been abducted by other
enemies? Some chieftain who was in league with the Saxons might
have come up with a plan to kidnap Eastra and throw the truce into
jeopardy. Stealing Arthur’s hostage would be a good way to
embarrass him and discredit his cause. But the way Eastra had
insisted they stop, then gone off alone, suggested she was part of
the plot. He could scarcely believe she would betray him like
that.

Maybe there was some other explanation. In
this broken woodland, it would be easy for someone to lose their
way. What if she had simply gone off to find some privacy and been
unable to find her way back?

Anxiety stabbed him. He reminded himself it
was unlikely anything would happen to her. Wolves didn’t attack
people unless the beasts were starving, and this time of year there
was plenty of prey. She could easily find water to drink and a few
berries to eat if she became hungry. She could not have gone far.
He would find her eventually.

He glanced back the way he had come,
wondering if he should alert the others that Eastra was missing.
Then he felt a drop of rain, and he decided that although Eastra
might not be in danger, she could end up miserably wet and cold. He
would not waste precious time by going back. Better to search for
her right away, while she must still be close by.

The rain began to drizzle down in a steady,
cold shower. Rhun hardly felt it. He was too caught up in finding
Eastra. He’d been searching for what seemed like a long time. It
was as if she had vanished.

He sighed in frustration. The thought came
to him that she might have made her way back to the others and be
waiting there. But if that was the case, why hadn’t Bridei or the
other men sounded the horn as a signal, or even called out for him?
Now that the wind had died down, he would surely hear their
shouts.

For that matter, why had he not thought to
call out for Eastra? If she were in the area and wanted to be
found, she would surely answer. But if he was wrong and she had
been abducted, shouting would alert his enemies as to his
whereabouts. Alone, he would be an easy target. He thought of the
apprehensive mood he’d been in all day, the nagging conviction they
were being followed. He decided to go back and get some help. The
men could divide up into groups, then systematically search for
her, calling out her name.

He had scarce gone a few paces when he saw
her. She was huddled up under a large, spreading oak, her pale hair
the only thing that made her visible in the gloom.

“Eastra!” he called out.

When he approached her, she raised her head
and gave him a frightened, anguished look. “Oh, Rhun!” she cried,
“I’m so glad to see you.” To his surprise she did not stand up, but
remained huddled down. “I’ve twisted my ankle,” she said as he drew
near. “I was not able to walk back and find you. And then it
started to rain.” She gave a shiver.

He quickly pulled off his oiled leather
cape, then sank down beside her and arranged the waterproof
material to cover her. He could feel her trembling, and he gathered
her onto his lap and put his arms around her. Her gown was wet
through, and her hands were icy cold. He rubbed them between his
fingers. Tremors swept through her. He clutched her tighter,
feeling her body warm.