Dragon of the Island

by Mary Gillgannon

  Still, he could not go to sleep without touching her, feeling her warmth nestled beside him, the extravagant luxury of her hair. He reached toward Aurora’s side of the bed...

  Maelgwn stood up suddenly, groping for the table, fumbling for the flint to light the lamp. She had to be in the room—why could he not find her? His fingers were trembling, awkward, and it seemed to take hours to light the lamp. Once lit, he shone it around the room, covering every space in the small round chamber. She was not there; she simply was not there. Maelgwn looked around again, feeling confused. His eyes lighted on the windows, and a wave of fear engulfed him. No, it could not be.

  He covered the space to the nearest window in two huge strides and looked out. The courtyard looked peaceful. It had begun to rain, and the smell of damp earth wafted up to his nostrils. Still shaking, Maelgwn moved to the window on the other side. Looking down from the height of the tower seemed to make him dizzy. There were no torches burning on this side of the fortress, and everything was very dark. He squinted, looking for the light color of clothes, the shape of a body. There was nothing.

  He stood there for a moment, feeling puzzled and confused. His hands touched the cool stones of the window sill, and came upon the unexpected roughness of a rope. He pulled it... and pulled... It was very long; it seemed to reach to very near the ground.

  Maelgwn threw the rope down impatiently and began to dress again. His hands were trembling, and he could not move fast enough. He took the stairs two and three at a time and came crashing out the tower door.

  “She’s gone,” he said in a choked voice to the guard.

  The man gaped at him in amazement. “How could she be?”

  “A rope... she climbed out the window with a rope. Quickly, tell me who came to see her tonight.”

  “I don’t know,” the guard said in a frightened voice. “I just came on duty.”

  “Think! Did the last guard mention anything?”

  “He said that Lady Gwenaseth had been to see the queen earlier, but that is all I remember.”

  “It is enough,” Maelgwn said grimly. “It is enough.”

  It did not take Maelgwn long to reach the small house that Elwyn had built for his bride during the summer. Maelgwn did not bother to call a greeting, but pushed the hide door aside and stalked over to the bed. Elwyn sat up and stared at him with one arm draped over Gwenaseth protectively.

  “What is wrong, Maelgwn?” he asked in a frightened voice.

  “You know very well what is wrong. Aurora is gone. The two of you helped her run away.”

  There was complete silence. Finally Elwyn spoke in a low, proud voice. “I won’t deny it, my lord. I... we could not let you do what you were going to do.”

  “It was hardly your decision.”

  Elwyn sighed. “I know, and I am sorry. But... I care for Aurora... I could not let you kill her.”

  “We both care for her,” Gwenaseth echoed proudly.

  “Kill her?” Maelgwn asked in a puzzled voice. “You thought I was going to kill her?”

  Elwyn began to stammer. “But you said... you said you had to do it, that you didn’t want to, but it was for the sake of Gwynedd.”

  “Aye. For the sake of Gwynedd I was going to send Aurora back to Constantine and end the marriage.” Maelgwn looked at the young couple huddled in the bed, staring at him with wild eyes. “Did you really believe I was going to have Aurora put to death?”

  Elwyn nodded. “Aurora thought so, too. She was so frightened. You should have seen her. She is terrified of heights, but she climbed down the tower anyway. She is going to try and ride back to Viroconium.”

  Maelgwn buried his face in his hands. “Oh, Jupiter, Lugh, Cernunnos—save me! What have I done!”

  Gwenaseth climbed out of bed and went to Maelgwn. “You were truly not going to kill Aurora?” she asked quietly.

  “No, no! Of course not! I love Aurora. I am not sure I can live without her. If I had any other choice I would never give her up!”

  Both Elwyn and Gwenaseth were perfectly still. They had never seen Maelgwn like this, and they did not know what to do.

  Gradually, Maelgwn seemed to regain his composure. “I must find her,” he said abruptly. “I can’t have Aurora return to her father thinking that I meant to murder her.”

  Chapter 26

  Why did it have to be such a dark, dreary night? Aurora leaned forward, clutching the horse’s mane. She could see but a few feet in front of her, and tremors still coursed through her body, reminding her of the danger she had already faced. At one point during the climb down the tower she had been ready to go back and face certain death rather than endure the dizzying fear that seemed to paralyze her. But Gwenaseth had continued to whisper words of encouragement and gradually she had been able to slide down the side of the tower to the safety of the ground. There she found Paithu, ready and waiting. Sweet Elwyn had done more than saddle her horse; the saddlebags were stuffed with food and other supplies. Now it remained only for her to ride as swiftly as she could and get as far from Caer Eryri as possible before morning.

  As Aurora rode past the village, the faint scent of smoke came to her clearly. Tears formed in her eyes. How hard it was to believe that only one day before, she had left this same spot with her heart full of hope, pleased to have found a new friend. She whispered a brief prayer for Justina and urged the horse on.

  Aurora reached the river and rode beside it for a while. She was still in familiar territory, but her anxiety was increasing. Somehow she would have to cross the river and find the pathway on the other side. She moved close to the water. She was lucky it was not raining harder. It did not take much rain to make the river a raging torrent, but tonight it was still relatively low. It unnerved Aurora to think of riding into the cold swirling water when it was so hard to see, but her only other choice was to ride farther down the valley and take the bridge across. If she did that, she was afraid that she would have trouble finding her way on the other side of the river. It seemed better to trust Paithu to get her across safely.

  Aurora braced herself for the shock of the cold water and urged the mare in. The water was deeper than she expected, and Aurora’s borrowed clothes were rapidly soaked, but the horse swam strongly and they soon reached the other side.

  Aurora shivered. The night was fairly mild, but with her wet clothes and the constant rain, she felt chilled to the bone. She squinted into the darkness, trying to make out familiar landmarks. The forest was pitch black, and Aurora’s spirits sank. How would she ever find her way? She might ride all night and find she had traveled in circles. Still, she had to try. By morning they would come looking for her, and Maelgwn would be even more furious now that she had run away.

  Aurora suppressed a sob. What had happened to the man who had once made love to her with such delicious tenderness? What had happened to make Maelgwn change? Even now she couldn’t hate him. Justina was right, it was his awful sister who had made him so cruel and mistrustful. Aurora felt tears mingling with the rain running down her cheeks—silent, bitter tears for what might have been.

  She was so tired; she could barely stay on Paithu. She no longer tried to guide the horse, but gave the mare free rein. The heavy vegetation seemed to claw at her, threatening to pull her off the horse. She leaned forward until her head almost lay on Paithu’s neck. In her exhausted, dreamlike state her mind wandered back to the delicious contentment and pleasure she had once known with Maelgwn. Her head swam with memories of his fierce, demanding body, the touch of his battle-roughened hands on her skin, his warm mouth kissing her with delightful sensitivity. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, her thoughts became hazy and seemed to stop.

  Abruptly, the dark world tilted upwards and twisted around, and Aurora was aware that she was falling. She tried to right herself but it was too late. Something bright passed before her eyes, and then everything went black.

  * * *

  “She came this way,” Balyn called as he held the torch over the muddy river
bank. The other riders gathered around, staring at the hoof prints in the wet earth, now filling in with water.

  “It looks like she crossed here.”

  “Why didn’t she take the bridge?”

  “Perhaps she was too frightened to go any further” Balyn suggested.

  Maelgwn cringed at Balyn’s words and the startled looks of the men around him. Aurora had run away in terror, so panicked that she couldn’t wait to cross the river and be away from him. The guilt cut into him. He had lost his temper with her and threatened her life. Would he ever be able to convince Aurora to trust him again?

  “We’d better cross,” Balyn said grimly. “The river is not getting any lower, and the bridge is too far away.”

  The men rode into the water, swearing at the cold. After crossing, the riders grouped wretchedly on the other side. They all felt groggy and irritable—it was hard to be rousted out of bed to go riding in the rain.

  “We should split up,” Gareth suggested. “We can’t be sure what route she took through the forest.”

  “Aye, that is a good idea,” Balyn agreed. “Gareth, you and Elwyn go to the left. Rhys, Evrawc—you go this way. Maelgwn and I will keep to this side.”

  As the other men headed off, Balyn reached over to grab Maelgwn’s stallion’s bridle. “Are you all right, Maelgwn?”

  Maelgwn roused himself from his thoughts to look into Balyn’s worried face. “Aye, I’m fine,” he answered weakly.

  Balyn shook his head. “You don’t look well, my lord... don’t worry, we’ll find her.”

  “Then what will we do?” Maelgwn asked harshly. “She is terrified of me—she thinks I mean to kill her.”

  “I’m sure you can explain to her, Maelgwn. She does love you, you know, I can tell by the way she looks at you.”

  Maelgwn stared into his friend’s eyes. “I wish I could believe you.”

  “Come, we’d better get going,” Balyn said gently. “The sooner we find her, the sooner you can make things right with her.”

  The two men rode in silence, pushing aside the low branches impatiently. Balyn still held the smoking torch, and the light reflected eerily on the trees and cast weird shadows across their path. The forest was thick and almost impenetrable in places. Dead trees seemed to be everywhere, and more than once they had to turn around to take another pathway.

  “Maybe we should get down and search on foot,” Maelgwn suggested when yet another fallen tree blocked their way.

  Balyn disagreed. “Since we have not found Paithu, it seems that Aurora is still riding. She may be far ahead, and we could never hope to find her on foot.”

  “Paithu!” Maelgwn said suddenly. “Didn’t Gareth train Paithu?”

  “Aye, he did, and she is a superb and very gentle horse.”

  “I seem to remember Gareth saying that he had trained the mare to come when he whistled,” Maelgwn said excitedly. “Maybe he could try that now—if the horse were to whinny back, at least we would know what direction they went.”

  Balyn nodded. “It is something to try. I’ll call the others back.”

  He gave a shout—it did not take long for the other men to come riding toward them.

  “Have you found her?” Elwyn called anxiously as he saw their torchlight through the trees.

  “Not yet,” Balyn answered. “Where’s Gareth?”

  “I’m here, sir,” the older man called.

  “Maelgwn has a plan,” Balyn explained when all the men were assembled. “He wants Gareth to whistle for Paithu.”

  “What good will that do?” Evrawc complained. “If Aurora is running away, she will surely not let the horse ride back to us.”

  “It’s just an idea,” Balyn said coldly. “Otherwise, we night as well wait until morning. The forest is too dark and treacherous.

  “Aye, let me try,” Gareth said. He brought his fingers to his mouth and let out a clear, shrill whistle.

  The men listened. They could hear the wind in the trees and the sound of dripping water on the forest floor, but nothing else. Gareth tried again. Twice more he made the high, piercing sound as the men waited.

  “It’s no use,” Evrawc said impatiently. “She is long gone, or maybe hiding. We should either keep searching as we were or go back to our beds.”

  The men looked at Maelgwn. He was their leader, and they expected him to take charge in his usual confident, authoritative way; they were puzzled by his silence and his blank, pale face.

  “Wait! Do you hear it?” Gareth said excitedly.

  “What?”

  The men strained their ears. There was the soft sound of the rain... and another sound.

  “It is Paithu,” Gareth said excitedly. “She is trying to answer me!” “It could be a horse,” Balyn answered gravely “But where is it coming from? Gareth... whistle again.”

  This time the sound was clearer, although still very distant.

  “It is hard to tell... perhaps that way... back toward the river,” said Gareth.

  “She did not get far,” Rhys said with a frown.

  “Perhaps she left the horse behind after all.”

  “Gareth—keep whistling!” Maelgwn ordered.

  The men set off again, moving in single file. The ground was growing soft and slippery, and they were all numb with fatigue and cold. They were retracing their steps back to the river. They could hear the dull hum of running water when Gareth called a halt.

  “There, over there!

  “I see the mare!” Gareth cried excitedly. “But where is Aurora?”

  Morning was near and the darkness was thinning to a gray veil. Paithu nickered softly to them from among the trees. The reins hung loose, but the mare did not try to come to them.

  Elwyn was the first to reach the clearing where the horse stood. “It is Aurora... she’s hurt!” he cried in an anguished voice.

  Maelgwn had been lagging back, full of dread, but at Elwyn’s words, he leaped off his horse and ran to the spot where Elwyn knelt. The two men stared in horror at the body of the queen, lying among the wet leaves. Her skin was dead white against the black tendrils of her hair and the dark vegetation all around her, but her face was peaceful and uncannily beautiful.

  Elwyn felt frantically for a pulse. Maelgwn had the impulse to tell him to stop. It seemed to him that this was not his wife—it was some forest goddess who had dreamed in peace for centuries. It would be blasphemous to try and wake her.

  Aurora moaned. Her full lips, bleached white by the cold, opened and emitted a soft sigh of pain. The spell was broken, and Maelgwn’s disordered thoughts turned from awe to terror.

  “She’s hurt!” he gasped.

  “Aye, but at least she still lives,” Elwyn said with relief. “For a moment there...”

  Maelgwn reached out to touch Aurora’s cheek. It was as cold and pale as marble, but at his touch she stirred again and mumbled something.

  “We must get her back to the fortress!” Elwyn said in an anxious voice.

  “Aye, but first we must get her warm,” said Rhys. The other men had reached the spot where the queen lay and were gathered around nervously.

  “She may be hurt, but the real danger is that she is so cold,” Rhys continued, as he leaned over to examine the queen gently.

  The rest of the men nodded. Rhys had some skill in healing, and on the battlefield they knew he was next best to Torawc.

  “I have a blanket in my pack—if it is not too wet,” said Balyn. “I’ll get it.”

  “Elwyn, help me take the queen’s clothes off... and the rest of you—start gathering some branches to make a litter to carry her home.”

  The men jumped to follow Rhys’s orders. Maelgwn continued to kneel at the queen’s side and stroke her face lightly with his fingers. It seemed that 110 orders would be coming from him, and his men were glad someone was taking charge.

  Only Elwyn hesitated. “I cannot... take her clothes off,” he said in a low, shocked voice.

  “You must!” Rhys said irritably. “He
r clothes are soaked, and we must get her warm—she could die if we don’t.”

  Rhys searched for the tie at Aurora’s waist that held the too-big trousers up, while Elwyn tried to slide her limp arm through the tunic. Neither considered that Maelgwn would be any help at all. He seemed to be in a trance—staring at Aurora’s face and whispering to her softly.

  It was a struggle, but the two men were finally able to remove Aurora’s outer clothes. She had not stirred. Rhys reached down and tore the linen undergarment Aurora was wearing in half and began to pull it off.

  “No!” Elwyn said. “It is not right that we should look at her naked!”

  “Would you rather look at her dead?” Rhys asked coldly. “I am telling you, these wet clothes are chilling her; we must get her warm quickly. Here, give me your cloak.”

  “My cloak?”

  “Aye, you fool. I will need several cloaks if I am to get her warm. Better that we should all catch cold than the queen die, don’t you think?”

  Elwyn nodded numbly.

  Do you think you could make a fire?”

  “I did bring the flint, but everything is wet—I don’t know.”

  “Well, try. Use some of your own underclothes to start it, anything that is dry. We need a fire if we are to get her warm.”

  “Maelgwn,” Rhys said gently, turning to the king. “I need you to stand back while I wrap Aurora up. Would you be willing to give me your cloak?”

  Maelgwn nodded. It seemed like a dream, he thought. It could not be Aurora who lay there so limp and deathlike. Surely she was back at Caer Eryri, safe in the tower room. This was but a spirit, a wood fairy, looking as lovely and ethereal as a white starflower.

  The rest of the men had returned with branches.

  “How is she?” Balyn asked.

  “She still breathes,” Rhys answered. “But very shallowly. I am worried that she hit her head when she fell from the horse. There seems to be a lump... here,” he touched the side of her head. “See how she moans when I touch it?”