Maelgwn nodded, his eyes distressed, his brow furrowed. “I don’t know how to right things with her. I keep meaning to go to her, but I can’t think what to say.”
“That’s easy. Beg her pardon, tell her how beautiful she is and then insist that you can’t live without her.”
“I can’t do that!” protested Maelgwn, looking aghast.
Balyn shrugged. “It’s the easiest way—just ask any married man here.” The twinkle left his eye as he forced himself to be serious. “But even if you can’t make yourself grovel before your princess’s feet, you’d still better work out some arrangement with her before we arrive home. At the very least you must negotiate a truce. Tell her that you’ll forgive whatever it is she said to you, if she will forgive your violent loss of temper. Remember, there is much to be gained in mending this rift between you. Esylt will make boiled mush of you both if she guesses you are already fighting!”
Maelgwn nodded and sighed. “I had not expected my marriage to be like a war bargaining table already.”
“What did you expect?” Balyn asked pointedly.
“I thought... I thought she would want to please me, that she would be eager to do my bidding. She seemed so sweet and lovely.”
“Some young women are like that, but not, apparently, Cornovii princesses. You’re going to have to change your strategy to suit your opponent. Although there is perhaps another consideration.” Balyn smiled slightly. “Love.”
“Love! Cease your jesting at my expense, Balyn. I am a king. I can’t afford to fall in love!”
Balyn shrugged. “Well then, the battle lines are drawn, and if you don’t want to fight, you’d better sue for peace. At any rate, you’d be wise to make your move before we reach Caer Eryri, and Esylt changes the thrust of the battle altogether.”
Maelgwn nodded, then walked off, still looking troubled.
Balyn shook his head as he watched the king go. Maelgwn was very astute in judging people, but he had obviously not realized that the rules were very different when it came to women, especially wives.
Maelgwn walked slowly, contemplating Balyn’s words. The comparison to a battlefield had its merit. He had underestimated his opponent, and she had surprised him nastily. Now he must make concessions until he had the advantage again and could take her by surprise. Somehow the thought of subjugating his wife as if she were a rebellious chieftain, displeased him. He’d had enough of war in his life. With his wife he wanted peace and a safe haven from the brutal demands of being a battle commander.
When he entered the tent, Aurora was sitting cross-legged on the bedplace, combing her thick dark hair. The sight of her loose, luxuriant tresses aroused him to tongue-tied admiration. She jumped up quickly, as if frightened of him, and stared back at him with her soft, gray-blue eyes. He flinched at the sight of the deep purple bruise on her cheek and turned away, regarding the terra-cotta urn on the table with grave interest.
“Aurora—I’ve come to beg your pardon.”
She nodded, then said, “I should not have... brought up subjects that displease you.” She paused, seemingly as tense as he was. “I also want you to know that I am grateful for the better food and the other considerations you’ve given me.”
Maelgwn nodded also, unsure how to continue. He didn’t know how to talk to women. He felt comfortable with them only in bed, their bodies soft and yielding beneath his. That was what he wanted now with Aurora, but the sounds of soldiers laughing close by the tent reminded him of their lack of privacy. He could hardly take his pleasure with his wife in the midst of a bustling army camp. He looked at Aurora again, in awe of her beauty, her devastating desirability. Then he reached out for a lock of her wavy hair, twisting it idly in his fingers.
“I must join my men now. It’s sort of a celebration, before we get home, before we have to deal with everything there.”
She accepted his regrets gracefully, nodding her head and saying nothing. He leaned over and kissed her softly, lingering his lips on her neck. She trembled.
He released her, went to the tent opening, then turned and permitted himself one last look at Aurora’s lovely, exotic features.
“There’s no need for you to wait up for me, Aurora. I’ll wake you when I come to bed.”
Aurora stood frozen for a moment, then hurried to the tent flap and stared after her husband as he strode away in the fading light. His walk was powerful, graceful, and as he disappeared into the purple twilight, she was helpless with longing. She sighed. She was relieved, but also a little angry. She had endured days of exhausting riding and she was lonely, tired and anxious. Did Maelgwn really think he had only to speak a few words of apology and everything would be right between them?
She sat down on the bed wearily, trying to collect her thoughts. Even if she hadn’t forgiven Maelgwn, she was eager to welcome him back to her bed. As much as her husband infuriated her, there was something about him that made her as weak and helpless as a child. His dazzling blue eyes and passionate face unnerved her; his deep, rumbling voice made her knees weak.
But now he had left her again. She could hear the laughter of the soldiers outside the tent. There was an easy, careless ring to their outbursts that made Aurora think they would be up late tonight. She was exhausted, but she knew she would not rest. Not until Maelgwn came to her bed, if ever he did.
“So, the king leaves the pleasures of a married man and joins his men tonight,” Balyn said, flashing Maelgwn a warm smile and moving aside to make a place for him near the fire.
Maelgwn sat down, trying to shake thoughts of Aurora from his mind and join his men’s exuberant mood. The soldiers’ excitement was almost palpable. They were returning to their homes healthy and rich. Their wagons were loaded with valuables and foodstuffs, the men were weighed down with armor, jewels, and other booty. Now that they were deep in the high country, there was no way any army could follow them. Their campaign had been an unqualified success.
“I think many men will follow in the king’s footsteps and marry at the summer festival of Lughnasa,” spoke up Gareth, the commander of Maelgwn’s cavalry.
“Indeed,” agreed Balyn. “With all our plunder, almost every soldier can afford to marry his favorite maiden when we return home.”
“Maybe Elwyn will finally ask for the Lady Gwenaseth’s hand,” said Evrawc. “It’s clear he is in love with her, but he is too shy to propose. You should offer her to him as his bride, Maelgwn,. He could not refuse the king’s gift, and Gwenaseth is your ward.”
“Aye, it would be good to see Elwyn married,” agreed Balyn. “It would settle him down, perhaps knock some of those foolish fancies out of his head.”
Many of the soldiers nodded knowingly. Despite his impeccable loyalty, Elwyn sometimes seemed too soft for a king’s companion. Perhaps marriage would help him mature. Balyn had other reasons for wanting to see the young soldier married off. More than once when he went back to check on the wagons, he had found Elwyn deep in conversation with the queen and smiling delightedly. Balyn feared Elwyn’s kind heart and Aurora’s obvious loneliness could prove to be a dangerous mixture.
Maelgwn spoke in the low, thoughtful voice he used when he was planning something. “If many of our soldiers marry, we will need to expand our workshops. There will be an even greater demand for plows and harnesses, wool and pottery.”
The men all nodded, and Balyn smiled enthusiastically.
“With the craftsmen of Viroconium, we could build more than workshops,” he suggested. “We could even renovate the fortress itself. I would not mind adding some of the comforts we saw at Constantine’s villa.”
“Perhaps you would like a bath complex next to your hut, and a sloe-eyed servant girl to wash you,” Maelgwn suggested with a sardonic smile. “With such treatment you would soon grow so fat and lazy I could not take you on campaign except in a litter.”
Balyn laughed. “With such an easy life, I would have no desire to be a warrior at all. I would be content to stay at Caer Eryri and
watch the hawks and kites float on the downdraft all day.”
“You are speaking as though we had been at peace for years,” Evrawc said irritably. “There will always be war. The Irish raids are as inevitable as the tide, and the Cymru chieftains are always looking for an excuse to rebel. And Constantine—he was hardly a willing ally. Even now he may be joining forces with Gwyrtheryn to the south and plotting to regain control of his lands.”
“Constantine wouldn’t do something so foolish,” scoffed Balyn. “Gwyrtheryn is well known as a treacherous liar. For all his weakness as a battle commander, Constantine seemed like a shrewd man and not one to enter into a dangerous alliance. Why, it would be a lamb making a pact with a wolf.”
“Aye, Balyn, but Constantine has lost a great deal, and bitter men are prone to errors in judgment when they seek revenge,” answered Maelgwn.
“But we were more than generous with Constantine’s people,” Gareth broke in indignantly. “Not a man was slain, and we asked only for tribute and an alliance sealed with a royal wedding.”
“My marriage is the key,” Maelgwn agreed thoughtfully. “It is what has angered Constantine and also what should stay his hand against us.”
“You do not think that Constantine would risk an invasion of Gwynedd because of his daughter?” asked Evrawc.
“No, I do not. I am gambling on Constantine’s love for Aurora. But I could be wrong too; we must always be ready for war.”
“I don’t understand a man who sets such store by a mere girl. Is she not a princess, born and bred to be married off in the best arrangement her father could make?” asked Evrawc.
“Aye. And it was not so bad an arrangement for Constantine. He got to stay alive,” laughed Balyn.
There was laughter all around. Constantine’s wounded pride seemed rather comical to them all.
“But what of the northern borders? Have you heard word from Cunedda regarding the Picts?” asked Rhys, a small intense man who often served as a messenger because he was able to read and write.
“No, no word,” Maelgwn answered. “I expect to visit Cunedda before Lughnasa, but so far I have not heard of war. Perhaps this will be a peaceful summer after all. Even the coasts are quiet. The Irish raiders must be busy elsewhere.”
“Another reason to celebrate!” said Balyn, lifting up the wineskin. “It’s a bit late for a toast,” he said, sadly shaking the nearly empty container. “But I will propose one anyway. To the Cymru—our loved ones and families, to our great king Maelgwn, and of course, to his new and lovely queen!”
It was late when Maelgwn made his way to his tent. On the way, he breathed in the cool mountain deeply, hoping it would clear his head. He had imbibed the mead sparingly, but it was potent stuff, and he was tired. The torch by his tent flickered, but there was no light inside. Was she asleep? He ducked into the tent and paused a moment, trying to see. There was no sound, no movement. He undressed, and eased himself slowly onto the bedplace. He could smell her—the rich, hypnotic perfume he had first noticed when in her father’s garden. He had thought then that it was the roses. He inhaled deeply, feeling the rush of desire in his body.
She still had not moved. He rolled toward her and touched first her hair and then a silken shoulder. How soft her skin was. In the daylight he had been so aware of her beauty he had not really noticed the exquisite smoothness of her flesh. Now that he could not see her, he could savor the scent and feel of her even better. His fingers drifted down her back. She did not stir or turn toward him, and he wondered again if she were asleep. His fingers touched her naked hips. There would be no fumbling with clothes tonight, no heavy fabric in the way of his caresses.
He played with the soft curves of her bottom and nuzzled her neck. Aurora stirred slightly. He rolled her over and began to mouth her breasts. Deliciously round and firm they were—he could not help kissing them greedily and taking the taut, swollen nipples in his mouth one at a time to suck. Was it his imagination or did she suppress a moan? His mouth moved down, slowly licking and kissing the way down her belly. She tensed slightly when he reached the soft hair, but he pushed her thighs apart abruptly, exposing the warm, wet opening there to the cool night air.
A pity it was so dark. He would have liked to see the expression on her face. She was not asleep now! He breathed on her gently and felt her whole body quiver. Then he pressed his mouth against the hot, sweet wetness of her. She cried out, a light, airy moan of surprise. Aye, he had her now. He could feel the ripples of pleasure coursing through her body. He was overcome, himself. She was so wet, so soft, so dizzyingly female. He could wait no longer. He raised himself over her and pushed in, penetrating deeply.
Ahhhh! The gods help him! Such sweet oblivion! Their bodies matched so perfectly... his hardness within her softness. Aye, this it what he had wanted all along. This was the way to deal with a woman.
Aurora stared into the darkness. Her body felt wonderful, achingly satisfied. She had never dreamed a man could make her feel like that. Maelgwn’s mouth had been magic, licking waves of fire through her body. The convulsive vibrations still seemed to come from deep inside of her. Her breath was coming in long shudders, her heart still pounding. She was spent and weary, but her mind would not let her rest. What had this man done to her to make her feel so utterly, completely overcome? It was embarrassing—and frightening. It seemed he had only to touch her or kiss her and all thoughts fled from her mind. When she was with him she did not act like a princess or a queen. She was more like a slave girl submitting meekly to her master’s wishes!
Aurora turned on her side, trying to relax. She could hear Maelgwn’s breathing clearly, heavy and contented. The sound irritated her. He was so sure of her, so sure he could control her. No doubt he had only pretended to be sorry about their fight, cleverly placating her so she would welcome his lovemaking.
Aurora got up restlessly. She pulled on her shift and went outside. The night was cloudy, dark, silent. It seemed even the sentries dozed. She noticed a torch still burning on a stake by the tent, flickering faintly in the breeze. A thought came to her—born of frustration and curiosity. She pulled the torch from the rag that held it and entered the tent. She pulled back the blankets and shone the light upon the form of her husband.
In sleep—with the fierce, deep-set eyes closed in misty shadows and the hard jaw relaxed—Maelgwn’s face looked surprisingly young. His nose was straight, with gently flaring nostrils. His mouth was slightly wide, drooping now with sweet sensuality. Aurora recalled that Maelgwn’s mouth could also look brutal, as it had the first time she saw him. His jaw was square and strong, his finely muscled neck proud and royal.
Her eyes moved down his body to his smooth chest, darkened with only a scattering of hair. There was only one scar on it that she could see—it ran beneath his arm like a wild river—but his arms were crisscrossed with numerous smaller scars, healed to a silvery white on his tanned skin.
Her eyes went lower, drawn irresistibly to his male organs. Despite their intimacy, she had not really gotten a good look at that part of him. His limp penis, curled up now like a soft, pink sleeping animal, bore little resemblance to the large organ which had impaled her earlier. It was fascinating, Aurora thought, how sleep robbed Maelgwn of his aura of power and danger. She smiled slightly. The dreaded Dragon of the Island was just a man, and really a rather young one at that. Maelgwn looked almost like a boy as he dreamed in the shadows, and she suppressed the urge to stroke his cheek—darkened now by a day’s whiskers—as she would caress a sleeping child.
Maelgwn stirred slightly, as if disturbed by the glare of the torchlight or the cool air on his nakedness. Aurora hastily took the torch outside and tied it back on the stake. She crept back into the tent, her heart pounding as she settled down beside Maelgwn. He rolled over and wrapped a heavy arm around her. Aurora sighed and snuggled closer. She had almost fallen asleep when he whispered her name—soft and low—into the darkness.
Chapter 9
The next morning,
even before she opened her eyes, Aurora sensed the weather had changed. A clammy dampness coated her skin and her thick hair, always unruly, was coiled into fat curls. There was almost a chill in the air too, even though it was summer.
She dressed quickly and went out to find a world thickly shrouded in silvery fog. Voices around her were heard with startling clarity in the mist, and Aurora was disoriented, unsure in which direction the rest of the camp lay. She was grateful to hear Elwyn’s reassuring voice behind her.
“My lady?”
“The fog. It’s so thick. Can we travel in this?”
“Aye, it will clear as the sun burns it off, and we are so close to home now the horses could find their way there without us to guide them.”
Home. The word stuck in Aurora’s throat like a bite she could not swallow. At least in this mist Elwyn could not see her cry. If only Maelgwn were near her now. His presence would have comforted her. But he was already gone.
With much confusion and swearing, the camp was packed away and the army train set out. Aurora took her place on her gray horse and followed Elwyn closely as they moved like ghosts in the thick mist.
“Is weather like this common in your land?” she asked Elwyn.
“Aye, it is a very wet country, Gwynedd. That is what makes the land so lush and beautiful. But fog is less likely in summer, perhaps this comes from being so high in the mountains.”
High—they were that. It seemed to Aurora that they climbed with every step, and she felt lightheaded and short of breath. She marveled at the horses and men who crossed these highlands so easily. The Cymru were a different kind of people, hardy and tenacious. No wonder the Romans had made few settlements in this wild land.
The stony track narrowed so that only one wagon or two horses could pass, and they finally climbed above the mist. Aurora wasn’t sure that being able to see clearly was an advantage. On their left the track fell away so sharply it made her heart pound. Far below she could see a dramatic valley of thick forest and the flash of streams and lakes, but looking down made her dizzy with fear.
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