The Dragon Prince (29 page)

Eastra was shocked by the vehemence of his
reaction. “What will you do?” she asked. “Are you leaving now?”

“Aye.”

“Where will you go?”

Bridei’s mouth twisted. “Back to Arthur, I
suppose. At least he has some respect for my abilities as
translator and spy.”

“Take me with you!” she pleaded.

Bridei looked at her. “I’ve avoided Maelgwn
since he arrived, so he won’t pay any attention to whether I come
or not. But there’s no way you can leave unnoticed. Besides, it
would be much too dangerous for the two of us to travel alone,
especially when it’s clear to anyone who sees you that you are a
Saxon.”

Eastra repressed a sigh. It seemed she’d
exchanged one prison for another. “What about your father? If I
asked
him
to take me to Rhun, will he do it?”

“Doubtful. He knows you are Arthur’s
hostage, even if he pretends not to. He also knows you were bound
for Gwynedd when we were captured. He’ll worry that it would be
unsafe to take you to Arthur’s camp. And he’s probably right.”
Bridei gave her a thoughtful look. “There are those among Arthur’s
Companions who would like to see the truce fail. What better way to
ensure such an outcome than for an ‘accident’ to befall his
hostage?”

A chill ran down Eastra’s body. Without Rhun
to protect her, she suddenly felt acutely vulnerable. But then she
remembered her Seeing. She feared Rhun was not safe either.
“Bridei, please find Rhun and warn him to be careful.”

“Careful of what?”

“Tell him...” She struggled for words. How
could she make Bridei understand? “Tell him I’m afraid something’s
going to happen. Something awful.”

“Why do you think this?”

“I had a Seeing, as Morguese calls it. I saw
Rhun, dressed for battle. The expression on his face...” she shook
her head. “It made my heart go cold. It was as if he had suffered
some unendurable shock, or experienced something that caused him
enormous pain and suffering. Not the physical kind of pain, but as
if something had devastated his spirit, his very soul.”

“Morguese has taught you to look into the
future? I’m surprised. I didn’t think she would share her secrets
with someone like you.”

“Why?” Eastra asked defensively. “Because
I’m a Saxon?”

“Because you are...” Bridei squinted, as if
seeing her for the first time, then shook his head. “I should have
guessed, I suppose. But, like most men, I was distracted by your
beauty and your youth. I didn’t see there was more to you.”

Eastra exhaled in consternation. “You speak
in riddles! Don’t you understand? I’m terrified something is going
to happen to Rhun! Will you help me? Will you go to him and beg him
to—” She hesitated. She wanted to ask Rhun to leave Arthur’s army
and ride to Gwynedd so she could see him and hold him and touch him
and assure herself he was safe. But she could not do that. “Please
tell him to take care of himself, to be wary...” Her voice trailed
off. How could she warn him against something she didn’t
understand?

Bridei nodded. “I will tell him. I will let
him know you have seen him in your dreams and you fear for
him.”

Someone called her name. Eastra turned and
saw the kitchen servants and weaving women had gathered to say
good-bye to her.

They rode out of the gates of Caer Louarn
with Maelgwn at the head of the troop and Eastra in the center,
surrounded by warriors. The men around Eastra talked quietly as
they rode, and she was aware of a certain cadence to their speech
she had not noticed in Rhun or Bridei’s. Perhaps the two of them
had been away from their homeland for so many years they had lost
that distinctive way of speaking.

Since they’d left Caer Louarn late in the
day, they didn’t travel far before it grew dark. When they reached
a clearing, Maelgwn called a halt. As his men dismounted and began
to make camp, Eastra slid off her horse and waited, wondering if
someone would come and tell her where she would sleep. To her
surprise, Maelgwn himself came to speak to her. He was accompanied
by a gangly red-haired youth whom she presumed was his armor
bearer. “This is Beli,” Maelgwn announced. “He will see to your
needs and get you settled for the night.”

Maelgwn left, and young Beli faced her, as
stiff and alert as a soldier on guard. “My lady, can I bring you
something to eat or drink?”

“Do you think there is a stream nearby where
I can wash?” she asked.

“I will fetch you water, my lady.”

Beli dashed off. Eastra was bemused. After
behaving as a slave these past weeks, it was very agreeable to have
someone wait upon
her.

Beli returned carrying a earthenware jar and
a bronze bowl. A cloth was draped over his arm. “My lady.” He
gestured to a nearby tent. “If you would like to go in and refresh
yourself, I’ll wait outside.”

He put the washing things down on the
leather floor of the tent, then left. Eastra washed her face and
hands. Beli returned with a bedroll he arranged in the tent, and an
oil lamp that he lit.

“Now I will fetch your supper, my lady,” he
said, bowing.

Eastra felt overwhelmed. Beli was treating
her like royalty. When he came back with a platter of food, a
wineskin, and a stool tucked under his free arm, she smiled at him
and said, “Thank you for your kindness, but now please go and feed
yourself. You have been busy every moment since we arrived, and I’m
certain you’re hungry.”

He bowed again. “Thank you, my lady. I will
return quickly, to see if you need anything else before you
retire.”

As he bent down to leave the tent, she
called out, “Wait!”

He turned. For a moment, his blue eyes
regarded her with frank admiration. Then he lowered his gaze. “Yes,
my lady. Will there be something else?”

“I was wondering... what have you been told
about me?”

“My lady?”

“Maelgwn—what did he say to you when he
ordered you to wait on me?”

“My father said you were a Saxon princess
and our honored guest.”

“Maelgwn is your father?”

“Aye. I don’t much look like him, do I?”

Eastra searched the young man’s features for
any resemblance to Rhun. She could not really see any. His
coloring—dark red hair and light blue eyes—was so different, it was
hard to see past it.

“I favor my mother.” He shrugged. “Not such
a bad thing, mind you, but I do hope that someday I am tall like my
father.”

“How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

“Then there’s plenty of time for you to
grow. My brother was near your height at your age and I’m certain
he would have been fairly good-sized.”

“
Would
have been?”

“He was killed in a British raid.”

“I’m sorry.” He gave her a sympathetic look,
then said apologetically, “My family—except for Rhun—have never
supported the British cause. We are Cymry, not British.”

“I don’t hold anyone to blame for what
happened to my family. My father and uncle raided their share of
British farmsteads in their day. I hate
all
war, all
fighting. I want there to be peace.”

He smiled at her. “You sound like my mother.
Yet even she is reconciled to the fact that it is the way of men,
to fight and kill each other.”

She decided that when Beli smiled, he did
look a little like Rhun. A pang went through her. Where was
Rhun?
Was he safe? The urge to see him and assure herself
that nothing terrible had happened to him nearly overwhelmed her.
She scrutinized the young man. How much did Beli care for his half
brother? If she told him Rhun might be in danger, would he be
willing to help her go to him? She said, “Rhun told me your mother,
Rhiannon, has the Sight—do you believe this?”

He nodded. “Sometimes she ‘sees’ things or
has dreams about things and then they come to pass.”

Eastra nodded. “I had a Seeing that involved
your brother Rhun. I sensed he was in terrible danger. Because of
that, I want to go to him, to warn him. Will you aid me?”

Beli frowned. “You should tell my father
these things, not me.”

Eastra made her voice pleading. “Bridei says
Maelgwn will not allow me to go to Rhun.”

“Why not?”

“Because...” Eastra hesitated. What could
she say to this young man to convince him he should help her? She
moved nearer to Beli. “Because I am Arthur’s hostage, and your
father means to keep me a prisoner at his fortress.”

Beli’s troubled expression deepened. “A
prisoner?”

Eastra nodded. “Although your father told
you to treat me with every courtesy, if you look around, you will
see I am guarded every moment.”

Beli glanced toward the tent entrance, then
back to her. “Perhaps it is true, but even so, I can’t ignore my
father’s wishes.”

“Even if your brother’s life hangs in the
balance?”

Beli shook his head sadly. “Nay, not even
for that. Rhun chose his path years ago. He’s a grown man and a
formidable warrior. Besides, if what you saw was a true Seeing,
it’s doubtful you can do anything to change what will come to
pass.”

“But if he knew about the danger, perhaps he
could somehow turn it aside.”

“Perhaps.” Beli nodded. “But it doesn’t have
to be you who tells him of your dream. My father could send a
messenger to Rhun and warn him that way.”

Eastra exhaled in frustration. Beli’s
solution was no better than Bridei’s. “But the thing is...” She
hesitated. How could she make this young man understand? “The thing
is, I
love
Rhun. I
need
to see him and talk to him
myself. Until I do, I will be in torment!”

Beli looked at her, and a half dozen
emotions crossed his youthful face—regret, sympathy, and a kind of
tenderness. But there was also resolve and duty there. He shook his
head. “I’m sorry. I can’t defy my father over a matter such as
this. As my mother always says, if it’s meant to be, then it will
be.”

Eastra turned away, feeling very tired and
disappointed.

Beli left, and she sat down on the stool.
She closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind and let her
thoughts wander so she would have a seeing. But she couldn’t seem
to relax. All she could think about was her vision of Rhun. She
struggled for a while longer, then opened her eyes and sighed. It
did not appear she had learned any of Morguese’s magic after all.
Maybe the burning herbs with their fragrant odor had something to
do with being able to see the future. Giving up, she went to
bed.

In the morning, they set off soon after
breaking their fast. The forest gradually thinned into open
country. The hilly, rocky landscape was dotted with small patches
of scrubby pine, yew, and rowan trees. Goshawks and kestrels
circled overhead, and the air felt damp and clammy despite the fact
it was summer. In the distance, Eastra could see the mountains Rhun
had told her about, their brooding dark shapes like thunderclouds
on the horizon.

They rode through deep valleys where the
pastureland was brilliant green and bright with daisies, purple
clover, and other flowers Eastra didn’t recognize. They climbed
rocky desolate hills and crossed a myriad of streams, some with
waterfalls tumbling over the rocks to form small pools surrounded
by green moss. Finally, they came into a broad valley where
beautiful horses grazed beside a gleaming river. Then they followed
a trackway along the river, passing several farmsteads, where
hedges of thorn enclosed several round, thatched-roof
structures.

Beli came to her with some food about
midday, and asked her what she thought of Gwynedd. “It’s
beautiful,” she said. But a part of her remained uneasy. This place
seemed cut off from the rest of the world, a strange, somehow
daunting realm full of rocks and sky and mist. It was so unlike the
part of Britain she’d grown up in, and she suspected this brooding,
wild landscape must shape the people who lived here. Was that why
Rhun was so different from any warrior she’d ever known? For the
first time, she began to wonder if she really knew the man she had
fallen in love with.

But it didn’t matter. Her fate was
inextricably bound up with Rhun’s. She’d felt it that day when they
made love under the great oak. It had been more than a joining of
their bodies; it seemed like a merging of their very souls.

Late in the day, Eastra called out Beli, who
was riding beside her. “We’re near the sea, aren’t we?”

Beli nodded. “My father’s main fortress,
Deganwy, is along the coast. We’ll be there soon.”

Leaving the river, they climbed a ridge.
When they reached the top, a sprawling hilltop fortress was visible
in the distance. Sensing home, the horses seemed to quicken their
pace.

Dusk was falling as they reached the gates
of Deganwy. There was the familiar confusion as everyone dismounted
and servants came to lead away the horses and deal with the
baggage. Eastra saw Beli talking to a small, plump woman with
reddish fair hair going gray. Although she did not look as Eastra
had expected, she decided the woman must be Rhiannon, Maelgwn’s
queen. The woman gave Eastra a critical look, then spoke to
Beli.

Beli came over to her. “Come, my lady. I’ll
show you where you will sleep.”

He took her to a small sleeping chamber,
comfortably but not extravagantly furnished. “A servant will be
here soon to tend you,” he told her. “Gwenaseth thought you might
want to eat in your room and wait until tomorrow to meet
everyone.”

“Gwenaseth?”

“She’s the woman I was speaking to. She runs
Deganwy.” Beli grinned. “I’m not exaggerating. Even my father
defers to her.”

“But what about...”

“My mother? She doesn’t generally involve
herself in the day-to-day activities of the fortress. The twins are
still young, and she has her sewing and her pottery. Gwenaseth
thrives on being in charge, so it’s a happy arrangement for
everyone.”