Dragon of the Island

by Mary Gillgannon

  “Apologize! I have nothing to apologize for!”

  “Begging your pardon again, Maelgwn, but it does seem to me that your behavior wasn’t the best. My wife made sure to tell me this morning that your attentions toward Aurora were crude last night. More than a few women wondered why you didn’t wait until you got to the bedchamber to fondle your wife. I also heard that Esylt insulted Aurora quite publicly yesterday when you introduced them. You should have done something about that.”

  “I did! I went to Esylt afterwards and was very clear about how she must treat Aurora from now on.”

  Balyn shook his head. “I’m afraid it was too late for Aurora. It is obvious that she is a woman with more than a little pride. You must bear in mind that she was raised as a princess.”

  “But she is just a woman, and my wife. Perhaps I have different ideas of what a marriage should be like than you, Balyn,” Maelgwn said coldly. “I intend to command my wife and have her obey!”

  Balyn shook his head. “You are the king and perhaps you can have things the way you wish, but I can tell you that it is not like that in most marriages.”

  “Well, it will be that way in mine,” Maelgwn said emphatically. “As soon as I am done eating and begin to feel better, I am going to make that clear to her.”

  * * *

  Aurora tried to proudly meet the faces of the people she met in the courtyard, but she could feel her legs quivering like water beneath her.

  It had all started when she woke up. Even before she was fully aware of things, she had been gripped by a grim foreboding, and as she stirred, her anxiety grew and grew. Slowly, terribly, the events of the night before had come back to her, like a bad dream that lingered even upon waking. Her worst fears were confirmed when she opened her eyes and saw Maelgwn lying face-down on the floor. Shaking with panic, she had dressed and left the tower room as soon as she could.

  Her first few minutes in the courtyard had been spent staring at the sprawling clutter of the fortress. Even the old, rebuilt town of Viroconium was not as bad as this. The neatly laid out streets of a Roman garrison were barely visible, indeed all that Aurora could see that looked Roman at all was the great hall which had been the garrison’s headquarters and two large L-shaped buildings which could only have been barracks. The rest of the complex was a jumble of square timber buildings and round huts like the ones she had seen in the village.

  As Aurora walked along the dusty, unpaved pathways—which undoubtedly turned into masses of mud when it rained—she tried to guess the purposes of the buildings: there would be storerooms and granaries, stables, a smithy, an armory, a creamery and bakehouse, and sheds for housing animals. Elwyn had told her that Caer Eryri was a nearly self-sufficient settlement. If they had to, the people here could get along without trading for anything except wine, spices—and judging from the poor farmland along the river—grain.

  Self-sufficient or not, the fortress was nothing like her father’s villa. There were no gardens, no orchards, no paved courtyards or walkways. The windows of all the buildings, including the tower, were unglazed and open to the elements or covered with animal hides. There were no mosaics, no statues, indeed, Aurora had seen almost no ornamentation on anything except the clothes and jewels the Cymru wore and the weapons the men carried.

  Continuing to look around at the rough, rather dirty settlement, Aurora heaved a deep sigh. She felt more homesick than ever. The memory of her awful fight with Maelgwn would not leave her, and a cold dull fear throbbed in her empty stomach. She had insulted her husband, mocked him and rejected his sexual advances. Everything bad that a woman could do to her husband—except for being unfaithful to him—she had done. Soon Maelgwn would wake up on the cold floor of the bedchamber and remember, and then he would come looking for her, to punish her.

  She touched her cheek, remembering the dizzying pain when Maelgwn had hit her before. The spot was still tender; it had not even healed yet. Maelgwn was so strong; he could easily kill her if he did not check his blows. Last time he had acted impulsively, this time he would have time to think over how she had wronged him. Would that make him temper the pain he caused her, or spur him on to real cruelty?

  Aurora shuddered. Her knees felt weak. She could try to run, but she could not get far without her horse, and she was not sure where Paithu was kept. If she tried to escape and Maelgwn caught her, it would go even worse with her. There was also her father’s gentle admonition to consider. He expected her to fulfill her part of the marriage agreement. Refusing her husband his marital rights might be grounds for Maelgwn to break the marriage contract. If that happened there would likely be war.

  Aurora sighed as she reached what appeared to be a spring, bubbling up from a crick in the rocks on the far end of the fortress. No doubt this convenient source of fresh water was the reason this site had been chosen for the fort. A slave girl with brilliant red hair was collecting water from the spring in a large gray pottery vessel. She looked up at Aurora, uneasily, almost hostilely, and then stepped aside to let Aurora help herself first. Aurora nodded politely at the girl—admiring her vivid hair—and then bent down to cup some water in her hands.

  “Here, my lady, use my cup.”

  Aurora turned to see the smiling face of a soldier she recognized from the feast.

  “You should not be waiting upon yourself,” he said softly, his clear blue eyes looking into hers. “Do you not have a maid to draw water for you?”

  “I did not want to bother anyone so early,” Aurora said shyly. “It seems many people are sleeping late today.”

  “I would be sleeping too, if I did not have to leave to go back to my home,” the young man answered wearily. “The excitement of being a soldier is over for now; it is time for me to go home and see if we have a herd left to keep us through the winter.”

  “Are you a shepherd?”

  “Aye, and we have cattle too.” The young man smiled shyly at her; he seemed surprised to be talking so casually to his new queen.

  Aurora drank gratefully from the soldier’s cup and then looked at him appraisingly. “I need to wash. Could you get me a rag or something I could use.”

  The soldier looked doubtful. It was clear he was not used to such requests. Then his face brightened. “I’ll be back,” he said as he ran toward the old barracks.

  In a few moments he returned, waving a scrap of cloth triumphantly. “Will this do?”

  “What is it?” Aurora asked as she looked at the torn, but clean piece of fabric.

  “A bandage,” the soldier answered cheerfully. “We suffered few wounds in this last campaign; there are plenty left.”

  Aurora smiled back, and bent down to soak the rag in the icy water. It was not as good as a real bath, but at least her face felt refreshed. It was nice, too, to have a man wait upon her and smile at her.

  “Thank you,” she said to the young man as she turned to go. “I hope you find everything is well when you return to your home.”

  As she walked back toward the tower, Aurora found that some of her confidence was returning. The young soldier had treated her like a queen—she was a queen—although for a moment she had forgotten.

  For some reason the story of Marcus’s grandmother flashed into her mind. Grimelda had been a queen too, and when the Romans defeated her people, she had gone to her captors proudly. From the way Marcus told the story, she must have been an impressive sight—her white skin gleaming with gold, silver and amethyst jewelry, her silvery blond hair shining and her blue eyes as cold and regal as Egyptian faience beads. No wonder Marcus ^ grandfather had fallen in love with her and made her his private concubine against the orders of Rome!

  Aurora decided that she, too, would go to her judgment with her head held high and looking her best. She might not be able to make Maelgwn forgive her, but at least he would not pity her. She would act like a queen.

  Aurora hurried back to the tower room. The door was slightly ajar, and it opened with a creaking sound as Aurora pushed it. With r
elief, she saw that Maelgwn was gone. Aurora walked in and surveyed the cluttered room with dismay. She was looking for her comb and hair ornaments when Gwenaseth knocked softly and entered the half-open door.

  “Good morning,” Gwenaseth said cheerfully. “How do you feel? Has the wine given you a headache?”

  “Aye, a little one.”

  Gwenaseth shook her head. “This room looks as if the feasting and merrymaking had been held in here.”

  Aurora said nothing. She did not want Gwenaseth to guess how badly things had gone with Maelgwn. Gwenaseth had been so shocked by Aurora’s anger the day before. She would never understand the frustration that had driven Aurora to treat Maelgwn so hatefully last night.

  Gwenaseth noticed Aurora’s pale face and subdued manner.

  “What is wrong?” she asked. “You don’t seem very happy this morning, Aurora.”

  “I... Maelgwn and I quarreled last night.”

  To Aurora’s surprise, Gwenaseth did not seem disturbed.

  “It is not unexpected that you quarreled. I saw how Maelgwn was grabbing you. I would hardly be surprised if you were offended by his crude behavior. Why, if Elwyn were to ever touch me so... I am afraid I would slap his face in front of everyone!”

  Aurora looked at her maid uneasily. It was nice that Gwenaseth was sympathetic, but she had no illusions as to how far that sympathy went. Gwenaseth had no idea how she had defied and insulted Maelgwn.

  “Gwenaseth,” she said softly. “Please stop straightening the room and come help me. I want to look my best when Maelgwn returns.”

  * * *

  Maelgwn walked to the tower with his long, restless stride. He felt much better after a breakfast of sausages, barley bread, goat’s cheese and figs, and he could almost forget the nagging ache in his head.

  But his anger toward Aurora was still keen. He nursed it—thinking about her cutting words, imagining how foolish she had made him look as he chased her drunkenly around the small tower room. Aye, she would have to be made to understand just how little power she had as a woman. If he did not thwart her independent ways now, she might end up like Esylt, always trying to manipulate him and sometimes succeeding.

  Yet, even as he climbed the tower stairs, some of Aurora’s words stirred doubts in Maelgwn’s mind. She had ridiculed his lovemaking. Was it really true that she had found his caresses crude and disgusting? No woman had ever complained about his way in bed before, but what did that mean? It wasn’t likely that any other woman would be brave enough to challenge the king’s sexual prowess.

  Maelgwn pushed the disturbing thoughts away. He knew Aurora had wanted him, more than once. He could still recall the feel of her fine-boned, silky body melting at his touch, the way she pushed her slender hips up to meet him eagerly. She had only said those things to hurt him, he was sure of it. Maelgwn set his mouth grimly. Aurora was nothing but a defiant, spoiled little minx, and she badly needed to be frightened into realizing her place as his wife.

  When he opened the door Aurora was waiting for him in a creamy white dress Maelgwn had not seen before. Her hair was arranged in the long braids the Cymru wore, and her neck and wrists were loaded with jewelry. When she saw his face, all the blood seemed to drain out of her cheeks, and she brought her hand to her mouth as if to smother a gasp.

  “My lord,” she said in a stricken whisper.

  Despite himself, Maelgwn was touched. It was clear that Aurora had not guessed how hard he had fallen, and she was obviously concerned for him. All at once, he could see their fight differently. He had been drunk and crude, and part of Aurora’s rejection might have been out of fear of him. Damn Esylt! She had done it again. If she had not taunted him into such a rage, he would have never gotten drunk and behaved so badly.

  Maelgwn hesitated, trying to decide what to do. Should he beg Aurora’s pardon and let their fight be forgotten? Or should he teach her a lesson as he warned Balyn he would do? Instinct warred with his soldier’s training, but in the end, the memory of his mother and sister’s mocking words about weak men won out.

  Maelgwn moved toward Aurora, keeping his face stern. He stopped in front of her and reached down and pulled her head up by the hair. Aurora gasped.

  “Aye,” he said softly. “You would do well to be afraid of me. There are many men who would punish your insolent tongue with their fists.”

  Aurora held her breath, and Maelgwn reached out to stroke her cheek with a callused finger.

  “Do not think that I check my blows out of pity or kindness, Aurora,” he warned. “It’s true I can’t afford rumors that I abuse you to reach your father, nor do I like the idea of talk within Gwynedd that the king has trouble with his new foreign wife. But if I thought beating you would make you understand, I would do it.”

  Aurora flinched, and Maelgwn continued grimly. “I have found that mercy can be a more potent weapon than violence, especially with women. I will only warn you this time, and I will choose to forget the things that went on between us last night. But do not be mistaken, from now on you must obey me and honor me as your husband in all ways.”

  Aurora nodded slowly, letting her pent-up breath escape in a gasp. She had the feeling of coming face-to-face with some deadly force and then having it move on, passing her by.

  But Maelgwn was not done. He reached to touch her dress. It was gathered at the neck, and he fumbled to loosen the tie that held it there. The dress slid down on one shoulder and partially revealed her breasts while Maelgwn watched with a cool possessive gaze.

  “You have said you do not desire me, Aurora. So be it. But do not forget that I am the only man who is allowed to touch you... ever.” Maelgwn pulled the dress tight so that the fabric dug into Aurora’s shoulder. “Do not think of betraying me, Aurora, or you will find me not so forgiving.”

  Maelgwn released her and began to undress. “Now,” he said in a whisper. “Now we will make up for last night.”

  Aurora hastened to undo her clothes and take off the cumbersome jewelry, while he also undressed. She wondered with a spasm of fear if he would be rough, taking forcefully what had been denied him the night before, but he approached her slowly, almost tentatively, and began to kiss her with a light teasing pressure. His fingers touched her throat very gently, caressing the graceful hollows there, playing with her earlobes and the downy nape of her neck. He was stroking her as one would a pet dog, finding the sensitive, secret parts of her he had not taken time with before. He nibbled at her ear, penetrating the whispering darkness there with his tongue. Aurora’s chest heaved convulsively and she bit her lips to keep from crying out. She had not expected this delicious tenderness. Her whole body was weak with desire.

  Maelgwn was patient, agonizingly so. His hands moved down her body, testing the fine ridge of bones along her spine and the light, fragile framework of her ribs. Only gradually did he begin to stroke her breasts, making slow circles around her nipples until Aurora reached for him feverishly.

  Maelgwn held himself away from her hungry mouth, finally grasping a thick braid to hold her still while he caressed her nipples with his other hand. He explored her body like a blind man, and Aurora sighed and shivered under his studied, expert touch. After a while he lifted her across the bed and lay down next to her. Still, he did not enter her, but went on kissing her slowly and languidly, as if tasting her. He had one hand firmly tangled in her hair, holding her down.

  Aurora was gasping and frantic with desire, but Maelgwn was not finished with foreplay yet. He straddled her, pushing her legs apart with his knees, and knelt to bring his mouth to one sensitive, swollen nipple. He was rougher now, almost hurting her with the hard pressure of his mouth and the slight, sharp prick of his teeth as he sucked and nuzzled.

  Aurora moaned and arched her back, forgetting her fear and their angry words, forgetting everything except the fierce, gnawing need of her body. She was dizzy, blind from lack of air as she forgot to breathe and sank into the dark red void of pleasure.

  At last Maelgwn move
d his hand between her legs, and Aurora almost jumped from the jolt of sensation that flowed through her. Even now, Maelgwn was slow and controlled, feeling the quivers of ecstasy which ran through Aurora’s body at his touch.

  “Ahhhhhh!” she cried with a groan. “Ahhhhhhhhhhh!”

  Maelgwn moved his face close to hers so that his hot breath covered her. “So, you do like it, you do want it from me after all,” he whispered harshly.

  Aurora opened her eyes and nodded, almost insensible. It did not matter—giving in did not matter.

  “Well, you shall have it!”

  Maelgwn plunged into her savagely, penetrating her so deeply that Aurora screamed in ecstasy. She could only surrender to Maelgwn’s violent rhythm as he thrust within her over and over, until they were both shaking and drenched with sweat. It was like being caught in a raging river and being drawn on helplessly in the seething, irresistible current. His arms were around her tightly, painfully, and Aurora caught the wild, violent scent of him like a mist over both of them. She struggled to breathe, to think. There was mindless rapture, a vivid brilliant shiver down her spine... and then soft darkness.

  It was over. Aurora was drained, exhausted, her thoughts spinning in small calm circles. She opened her eyes and looked at Maelgwn. He looked spent as well, his hair black with sweat, his skin flushed and hot. Aurora reached out a tender caressing hand to touch his face. He opened his eyes, startled, but he did not move as she tentatively examined his wounded face. He did not flinch, but watched her with dazed staring eyes. After a moment he reached up and pulled her hand down to his mouth and kissed it.

  Chapter 14

  “What are you doing?” Aurora asked as Maelgwn dug through the pile of baskets and clothing that covered the large chest at the end of the bed.

  “I am trying to get to my clothes. Can’t you get Gwenaseth to put all these things somewhere else?”

  “But I use them,” Aurora protested.