The Dragon Prince (31 page)

As always, Arthur’s impassioned words evoked
an intense response in Rhun. They
did
have right and
goodness on their side. Unlike so many men, Arthur fought not for
his own personal glory, but for a dream—a dream that would mean a
prosperous and safe existence for their children and their
children’s children.

Arthur put up his hand. “Go. I won’t deny
you this, not when all of us could be dead in a fortnight. Visit
your stepmother and if you can, try one last time to convince your
father it is time to fight for Britain. I know he doesn’t begrudge
me the high kingship, that he sincerely believes it’s foolish to
make war with the Saxons. But urge him to consider the matter one
more time, to think long and hard on whether he wishes to have his
grandchildren grow up speaking coarse Saxon or the wild music of
the Cymru tongue.”

“I will speak to him,” Rhun said. It was the
least he could do, he thought as he left the council room, now that
he had betrayed his ideals, and all for the sake of a Saxon.

Bridei met him at the soldiers’ barracks.
“What did he say?”

“He let me go. I think he believes I might
be able to persuade our father to join his cause.”

“And the lie about Rhiannon?”

Rhun grimaced. “I used it, though the words
burnt like bile in my mouth.”

Bridei shrugged. “The lie hurts no one. The
course of history will not be changed because you sought out your
ladylove.”

Rhun regarded his brother dubiously.
Something inside him told him that with this lie, the pattern of
his life—and perhaps the lives of everyone around him—had been
irrevocably altered.

“Have you ever seen the ocean before?”
Rhiannon asked as she and Eastra walked down the sloping trackway
from the stronghold.

“Aye, when I was a child. I remember how it
smelled. I also remember my brother warning me not to venture into
the fens, the marshlands bordering the beach. He said there were
places there where the spirits of the dead lived, and they would
grab my legs and pull me down into the muck and I would never be
seen again.” Eastra gave a rueful laugh. “I believed him, and so
the whole time, even when we were on the open beach, I kept my eyes
on the ground, worrying I would be swallowed up at any moment.”

“It was cruel of him to tease you,” Rhiannon
said.

“Not really cruel. There are very dangerous
spots in the fens, places where even a man can get caught and not
be able to free himself but slowly sink to his death. My brother
was trying to protect me.” A wave of sadness afflicted her. She’d
never had a chance to see her brother grow up, to find out what
sort of man he would have been.

“You miss him, don’t you?”

Eastra nodded. “Silly, isn’t it? He’s been
dead over ten years now, but still I think of him.”

“You love him, and love does not end with
death.” Rhiannon reached out and touched her arm. “ I think when we
love someone a great deal, even after they die, their spirit stays
with us. I think your brother is with you now, watching over
you.”

A strange sensation came over Eastra. There
were times when she had felt that way, as if Cynebeold had spoken
to her. She stopped and looked at Rhiannon. “What makes you say
something like that? Do
you
feel him? Do
you
believe
he is with me?”

Rhiannon only smiled.

Eastra began walking again. Even though
Rhiannon’s words were comforting, the way she talked reminded
Eastra a little of Morguese. She recalled how Morguese had coaxed
her into being part of her rituals, had taught her to “see” things.
But in the end, Morguese had betrayed her.

She glanced at Rhiannon. In the three days
she had been at Deganwy, the queen had been very solicitous and
kind. Like Morguese, Rhiannon was reputed to be a powerful
sorceress. Morguese had used her, made her part of some twisted
scheme to thwart her husband. What did this woman want? Did she
also mean to ensnare Eastra in her web of magic, to use her as
Morguese had? All at once, Eastra halted. “Why are you taking me to
see the ocean? I’m a hostage and a Saxon. What is your purpose in
being friendly to me?”

“Purpose?” Rhiannon’s face was
expressionless. “Do you think I need a purpose to be kind to
another woman, especially one who is young and troubled, who has
had a life of hardship and loss?” She shook her head sadly. “You do
not have to trust me. I would not expect you to. But, please, give
me a chance to help you. I was once very like you. I’d been abused
and hurt. I didn’t know where to turn, how to find my way in life.
Another woman helped me, enabled me to see things more clearly.
That is the only purpose I have.”

Eastra was still not satisfied. “I beg your
pardon for seeming suspicious and ungrateful, but you see, Lady
Morguese said much the same thing to me and I later discovered her
words were false. She didn’t care about me, but only thought to
manipulate me in a way that furthered her goals.”

“Morguese.” Rhiannon smiled. “In a way, I
admire her. She’s so fearless, so strong. But she is also
misguided. She thinks the power of the Goddess can defeat the male
force, that she can meddle in the realm of men and make things
‘better,’ as she sees it.”

“You don’t believe that?”

Rhiannon shook her head. “The female realm
is separate from the world of men. I fear Morguese’s clever schemes
will turn on her and she will suffer greatly.”

“But her power is real. I’ve seen it. Felt
it.”

“Aye, it is real. But it’s not meant to be
used as she is using it.”

“Why not? Why shouldn’t a woman try to
control things and change the course of events? I think we would
make less of a mess of it than men have made!” Eastra felt herself
becoming angry. She could not help resenting the stupidity of men,
their passion for war and power.

“But once you involve yourself in the world
of men, you are subject to the rules of that world,” Rhiannon said.
“And those rules are against all the Goddess stands for. She
represents patience and timelessness, harmony and balance. Men’s
goals are always petty and small compared to the vast, eternal
earth. She is beyond them. She represents the things that last.”
She motioned. “Come. Let us go down to the sea and I will show you
what I mean.”

They followed the pathway along the river to
where it turned into a great, wide estuary teeming with birds.
Everywhere Eastra looked there were waterfowl—waders and dippers,
herons, swans, fulmars, and gulls. They covered the shoreline like
huge pale flowers, then, when startled, rose to the air in soaring
clouds. The smell of the mudflats was strong, of rotting things
washed up from the sea. Eastra wrinkled her nose, and Rhiannon
said, “It’s the smell of death, but also of life. There is much to
eat here. The tidal pools teem with fish and shellfish. Many birds
raise their young in nests on the cliffs and in the sea holly and
marsh grass among the dunes.”

They walked along the shoreline, veering
east until they reached a broad, sandy beach. Rhiannon bent down
and took off her sandals. Eastra did the same.

The sand was wet and cold beneath her feet
as they walked down to the waves. When they had almost reached the
water, Rhiannon spoke. “The surf rolls in, over and over,
endlessly. The tide comes in and goes out. It’s like the heartbeat
of the earth, an eternal rhythm. The ocean and the rivers and
streams flow through the Mother’s body, like the blood through our
veins. The water feeds her flesh as the blood does ours. And yet
the sea is also like her womb, pouring out life onto the land. Did
you know that everything comes from the sea? That even we once
dwelt there? We were much different then, not human yet. But we
have memories of it. And that is echoed in the long months when we
swim inside our mothers’ wombs.”

She turned to Eastra and spread her arms
wide. “Do you see the pattern, how it’s all connected? This is the
female realm. Compared to it, the shallow concerns of men are no
more significant than a small pool left when the tide recedes. It
will soon evaporate and leave nothing behind but a stinking puddle
of dying creatures that will either be eaten or dry up and blow
away on the wind. But the sea—it will endure, as the Goddess and
her power will endure. Men may fight and kill, seeking power,
seeking land. But their quest is futile. They can never possess
what they long for. The magic, the pattern, eludes them because
they never look beyond their own realm.”

Eastra sighed. “The world of men might
appear insignificant to you, but it has caused me much pain.
Men
killed my family and enslaved me. Their greed and
ambition near ruined my life.” The world of men also threatened
everything she shared with Rhun, but she did not say this.

Rhiannon nodded. “I, too, have suffered
because of the blind cruelty of men. When I was very young, one of
them hurt me very badly. But the Goddess healed me. She opened my
eyes. And even though I am wed to a warrior, a man whose very
existence is caught up in the male realm, I try to never to lose
sight of the true pattern beneath.”

“How do you do that?” Eastra asked. “With
all your knowledge and power, how do you endure being wed to a
king? Your husband’s very title bespeaks a world of ambition, war,
and power.”

Rhiannon smiled. “My husband is older, and I
like to think he has learned some wisdom over the years. Yet we
don’t always agree. He still thinks like a man, for all the Goddess
has taught him. It’s a dilemma, but I take comfort in the fact he
is what he is meant to be. The Goddess does not wish to deny male
energy. It’s part of the magic of life. All females in season need
the male to plant the seed that will grow inside them. And for our
kind, males are also protectors, hunters who bring us food,
warriors who defend us from other warriors.”

“But if they didn’t always fight each other,
we would not need protection,” Eastra said in frustration.

“But it is the way of males to fight, to
compete against each other. Stag fights stag during the rut. Dog
foxes, birds, even the soft, timid hare fights for the chance to
mate with a female. That’s how the Goddess ensures only the
strongest and healthiest have offspring. And all life is a battle
to survive. That is also part of the pattern.”

Eastra could not help sighing. Rhiannon’s
words made sense, but did nothing to ease the turmoil inside her.
She feared Rhun had chosen the male realm—his responsibilities as a
warrior—over her and the deep, dark magic that had connected them
when their bodies were joined.

“I’m sorry to see you so distressed”
Rhiannon said softly. “I would ease your suffering, if I could. The
first step is to try to let go of your anger. You cannot change the
past, so you must accept it. If you don’t, it will fester inside
you and poison the rest of your life. You cannot want that,
especially now you are carrying a new life inside you.”

A new life inside you
. It took a
moment for Rhiannon’s words to sink in. “What?” Eastra gasped.
“What did you say?”

Rhiannon smiled. “I wasn’t sure I should
speak of it, but I think the knowledge you are carrying a child
might help you. It’s a great gift, the greatest magic of all.”

Eastra felt stunned. A child? Rhun’s child?
What did this mean for them? Would a child bind him to her? “I... I
didn’t know,” she said woodenly. “I mean, I had not thought about
it. I’ve lost track of time these past weeks. I don’t even remember
the last time I bled.” She looked at Rhiannon. “How can you be
certain I’m with child when I myself have no knowledge of it?”

Rhiannon appeared thoughtful. “Perhaps I
should not tell you this, given that you seem so angry at Morguese,
but...” She shook her head. “There is no other way to say it. I had
a Seeing... before you even came to Deganwy.”

“What did you see?” Eastra demanded.

“I saw you with your belly swollen. I don’t
yet know if the babe is a boy or girl. But it will be born next
spring, sometime after the Seed Moon.”

She wanted to ask Rhiannon if she knew the
child was Rhun’s, but she could not quite get the words out. What
if Rhun didn’t want the child? What if he thought she had tricked
him into coupling with her so she would conceive? She remembered
one of her uncle’s house carls speaking contemptuously of women who
deliberately got pregnant in order to entrap a man.

Then she thought of something else. Why had
Rhiannon mentioned Morguese? What did the Rheged queen have to do
with her pregnancy? A prickling sense built along her spine and
suddenly she knew why Morguese had sent her to Rhun that night.
“Did Morguese... did she...” She felt vaguely sick. She’d known
Morguese had used her, but she had not guessed this.

Rhiannon nodded. “I believe she used some
sort of spell, a kind of enchantment. But don’t be alarmed. It was
meant to be. Perhaps Morguese helped things along, but her motives
weren’t cruel nor selfish. I think she believed it was important
that the child be conceived at that time, on that particular
night.”

Eastra recalled how aroused she’d been, how
desperate to have Rhun make love to her. She had been so wanton and
eager, holding nothing back. She shivered. Morguese’s magic had
worked very well. She touched her stomach. Could there really be a
child growing inside her? She didn’t feel any different. So far,
she’d experienced only the vaguest fatigue, and she had thought
that was because she wasn’t sleeping well because she was so
worried about Rhun.

She glanced sharply at Rhiannon. “Does
anyone else know? Maelgwn? Beli?”

Rhiannon shook her head.

“Good. I don’t want anyone to know.”

Rhiannon quirked a brow. “In time, it will
be obvious enough.”

What was she to do? If Rhun found out about
the babe before she could talk to him, he would think she had been
trying to trap him, to force him to wed her, or least bind him to
her so he could not escape. He would be disgusted by her
manipulations. But if she could speak to him and explain about
Morguese’s spell, then maybe he wouldn’t blame her so much.