Dragon of the Island (13 page)

Aurora found herself rather taken back. For
all her haughty demands of Maelgwn, she had never had her own maid
before. She was uncertain how to treat the dainty creature who
stood before her, waiting for instructions. Elwyn had told Aurora a
little about his betrothed, and he had not exaggerated Gwenaseth’s
beauty. She was as tiny as a bird, with graceful arms and neck, and
a pert, pretty face lit up by warm, melting eyes. Only her rather
wispy hair was anything but perfect.

“Well, most of all, I would like to bathe,”
Aurora said quickly. “Can you show me to the baths?”

It was Gwenaseth’s turn to stare at Aurora
in startled confusion. “The baths?” she asked hollowly.

“Aye, surely you have baths here. It was a
Roman garrison at one time.”

“I’m sure there was once a bathhouse outside
the fort, but it has been years...”

“What do you do to get clean?” Aurora asked
impatiently. “Surely you don’t go without bathing!”

Gwenaseth was bewildered and a little
embarrassed. “Well, in the summer we go bathing in the river—or we
get water from the spring and wash with that.”

“I don’t understand. How can you get clean
without heated water?” Aurora was beginning to feel the first
prickling of alarm. Surely, the people of Gwynedd washed regularly.
She had noticed a certain stale smell among the soldiers, but she
thought that was because they had no way to wash while
traveling.

Gwenaseth hung her head, looking dismal. “I
know the Romans believed in taking their daily baths—there was an
old bathhouse near my father’s house at Llanfaglon I used to play
in as a child. But here in the hills...” she looked doubtful, “...
it is too cold much of the year to bathe everyday, and people have
given up the practice.”

Aurora tried to suppress the stab of
homesickness that went through her. She must try to adapt to her
husband’s people and their customs. “I understand, I guess, but I
have been traveling and there is to be a great feast of celebration
tonight. I sorely need to bathe and to wash my hair.”

“Of course,” Gwenaseth said briskly. “I
didn’t mean to suggest we could not accommodate you. I will send
for a slave to bring some water, and I believe there must be a tub
somewhere you could wash in.”

Gwenaseth was all quiet efficiency then,
giving orders to a plain, brown-haired slave boy with an authority
Aurora could never have managed. It was only a matter of time
before a large bronze caldron was found and filled with a mixture
of cold and heated water to form a tepid mixture for Aurora’s bath.
Even chilled, Aurora found a luxurious contentment in being clean.
After they had washed and rinsed her hair, and the grime of the
road filled the bottom of the caldron, Aurora sat upon the bed and
relaxed as Gwenaseth expertly untangled her damp tresses.

“What will you wear to the feast?” Gwenaseth
asked.

“I guess the dress I wore for my wedding. It
is a lovely color, and it is made of a special kind of cloth,
called ‘silk.’ “

Gwenaseth nodded. “I have heard of silk—it
is very rare and valuable. You will look beautiful,” Gwenaseth
added warmly. “You have such lovely, thick hair, and I truly envy
your coloring.”

“My coloring?” Aurora exclaimed doubtfully.
“Surely it is better for a woman to have light hair like
yours.”

“Ah, but you have no freckles, Lady Aurora,
and I envy you your smooth, creamy skin. Anyway, I think Maelgwn
must have chosen you because of your unique beauty. I’m sure there
is no other woman in Gwynedd who looks like you.”

“I have no illusions as to my charms for
Maelgwn. He chose me because my father is rich and he wanted to
control him. Anyway, it doesn’t matter, Maelgwn has made a bargain
with my father, and now he will have to live with it. It matters
little to me if I please him.”

“You must not say things like that. He is
your husband!” Gwenaseth looked at Aurora with a shocked
expression. “Do you mean you didn’t want to marry Maelgwn?”

Aurora laughed grimly. “Indeed, I didn’t
want to marry him. I think perhaps I hate him.”

Gwenaseth stopped combing Aurora’s hair and
looked absently at her own hands. “You shouldn’t be telling me
these things, Aurora,” she chided softly. “Maelgwn is my king.”

“I don’t care! I do hate him. He has no
concern for my feelings at all. He let his sister humiliate me and
spoke no word to stop her. He treats me like a slave girl, seeks
only my body in bed...” Tears were filling Aurora’s eyes, and she
stopped to catch her breath, sniffing slightly and looking away
from Gwenaseth’s awestruck face.

“Hush,” Gwenaseth whispered, putting an
awkward, consoling arm around her. “I’m sure you are mistaken about
Maelgwn. He seemed so proud of you when he spoke to me. You must
remember that the king has never had a wife before, or even a woman
he was close to. I’m sure he just does not know how to show his
feelings for you.”

Aurora shook her head. She dared not speak,
or the humiliating tears would come.

“At any rate.” Gwenaseth stood up briskly.
“I must go get ready myself. I will return in a little while to
help you dress.” She turned at the door and gazed at Aurora with a
thoughtful, rather calculating look. “Remember, Aurora, you must go
to the feast with your head held high and proud. It would never do
for Esylt to know she had succeeded in hurting you.”

Aurora nodded to herself as Gwenaseth left.
Aye, Gwenaseth was right. She could not give her enemy the pleasure
of knowing how deeply her words had cut. She crossed the small room
and began to search among the tumble of baskets and chests until
she found a bronze mirror. She held it up and gazed at her
reflection critically.

For most of her life, she had cared little
how she looked. It was too much trouble, and she never felt as
though she could compete with her beautiful older sisters. But now
she did care. Tonight, she was going to meet the people of her new
land for the first time and she wanted them to be impressed. She
frowned as she looked at her reflection. Her eyebrows were
striking, her eyelashes long and dark, her skin smooth and glowing.
But her lips were clearly too full and her nostrils flared too
much. Her newly washed hair seemed wild and messy, and she did not
know how to fix it, except to wear it long and loose. Still, with
her bright dress and her best jewelry, she thought she could
manage. Tonight she must pass for a princess, an elegant royal
princess of the Cornovii.

If he did not have to pay this visit to his
sister, Maelgwn thought, he would have been in a very good mood.
His army was home, safe and successful. His people were content,
and he had even found a maid for his wife. But there was this one
last bit of unpleasantness left to attend to.

Maelgwn braced himself for the
confrontation. He was tired of Esylt’s interference, but he had to
remember that she was just a woman. She had no other way to make
herself important, and so she caused these petty problems that he
was left to resolve. But this rudeness to Aurora—he could not allow
that. Esylt would have to realize she must leave Aurora alone.

He found Esylt supervising in the large
kitchen behind the great hall. He motioned to her, and she followed
him to a secluded corner so they could talk privately.

She was still a good-looking woman, and he
knew that she easily found lovers from among the unmarried
soldiers. He had tried to arrange advantageous marriages for her,
but she had always refused. She said she did not want any
foul-breathed, grunting old man as her master. Now she faced him
with her head held high, her jaw set with determination.

“Esylt,” Maelgwn began sternly. “I won’t
tolerate it if you harass Aurora or frighten her.”

She sniffed contemptuously. “Why should you
care? After all, she is just a hostage to keep Constantine under
control.”

“No. She is not just a hostage. She is my
queen, and I expect everyone at Caer Eryri to treat her with the
respect due my wife—and that includes you!”

“Are you serious? You intend to keep her at
your side and share your bed with that sniveling little bitch?”

“Indeed, I must lie with her if I am to have
an heir someday,” answered Maelgwn dryly.

“You plan to have children with her? You
would dilute the ancient royal line of Cunedag with her mongrel
blood. What is she—part Roman, part Saxon whore?”

“She is as British as any of us,” Maelgwn
answered coldly. “I could hardly wed a Cymru girl. As king, I had
to marry a woman who brought a dowry of wealth and power to
Gwynedd. Through this marriage I gained control of the rich
lowlands to the east with very little trouble.”

“You could have burned Viroconium to the
ground and taken your precious wife as a slave, according to many
of the soldiers I talked to. Constantine is so weak he could not
raise an army to fight off a group of children!” Esylt’s voice was
heavy with sarcasm, and her arrogant features were contorted in
scorn. “There was no need to make this lopsided match. With
Constantine’s loyalty you get his kingdom to plunder, but you must
also protect a weak and ineffectual ruler from others who would
seek his wealth too.”

Maelgwn’s eyes were dangerous as he faced
his sister down. “Did you think I could just burn Viroconium and
take their gold and jewels? What good would that do me? We have no
people to settle the lands or rebuild the town. The rich green
fields would lie empty for want of people to tend them, the shops
decay for lack of craftsmen to use them. The Cymru can’t eat gold.
Constantine’s wealth is in the rich harvest his people reap and the
craftsmen I have brought back who still know the old techniques of
the Romans. I need Constantine’s loyalty if this campaign is to do
more than enrich us for a single season.”

Esylt’s full lips curled into an ugly snarl.
“You always avoided fighting, Maelgwn, even as a child. There is
always some excuse to seek peace, compromise, alliances. They call
you the Dragon of the Island. What a joke that is! If only they
knew that Maelgwn the Great has about as much courage as a newt in
a hilltop puddle!”

Maelgwn had had enough. He stormed out of
the kitchen, terrifying the servants and slaves who had the ill
luck to be in his pathway. The walk across the courtyard cooled his
temper some, but as he climbed the stairs to his chamber, he was
still shaking with anger. Esylt had a way of twisting his successes
around and making them seem like failures. She had always done
it—at least since Dinas Brenin. It was obviously her way of getting
back at him for no longer being the uncertain boy she could
control. Still, her nasty taunts haunted him. Had he been too
generous with Constantine? He was counting on his marriage to
Aurora to keep Constantine from turning traitor as soon as his
troops left, and he had left his new ally without even a garrison
to make certain of his loyalty. Was it a mistake? Showing weakness
might make his enemies decide that the time was right to take him
down.

Maelgwn was so preoccupied, he almost ran
into Aurora as she came out the door of the tower chamber. The
queen looked exquisite, and the scent of her freshly perfumed skin
distracted Maelgwn from his worries. Gwenaseth was sorting things
and putting them away in the room, and she looked up in time to
warn him away.

“Nah, nah. You must not muss her dress or
hair,” she chided, “Does she not look like a vision though?”

“Aye,” Maelgwn said with a smile. “Would
that the feast were over, and I could really enjoy her.”

Aurora returned his glance coldly, but
Maelgwn decided not to worry about it. There would be plenty of
time to win back her favor once they were alone together.

Laughter and the buzz of voices filled the
great hall as Aurora entered with Maelgwn. A hush moved through the
room as people looked up to see their king with his queen, and then
the crowd broke into cheers and jubilant shouts. The hearty,
dusky-skinned Cymru—dressed in gaudy colors and brilliant
jewelry—seemed to fill the hall until there was no air to breathe.
Aurora was so nervous she was almost faint, and she leaned
gratefully on Maelgwn’s strong arm as he led her to their table.
With a sigh of relief she took her place between Maelgwn and his
first officer, Balyn. Perhaps now everyone would stop staring at
her and go back to their normal talk.

Food was brought for them—heavy, rich dishes
that turned Aurora’s nervous stomach. She looked with distaste at
the heaping trencher she shared with Maelgwn.

“Have some wine.” Balyn suggested. “It will
help you relax.”

Aurora looked at him sharply, but saw no
malice in his broad face. Balyn’s brown eyes looked sympathetic,
and his smile sincere. “Thank you,” she answered, trying to hide
the trembling of her hands as she picked up the heavy gold
goblet.

“What do you think of your new home?”

“I... I have not had a chance to see much of
it yet.”

“It has its good and bad, as does any
place,” Balyn said agreeably. “It would be most surprising if you
were not homesick. I hope Lady Gwenaseth will be a good friend to
you and ease your loneliness. She is a newcomer to Caer Eryri as
well.”

Aurora’s face brightened with interest. “Is
that why she speaks a little differently?”

“Aye. Gwenaseth is from along the coast of
Gwynedd. Her father is an ally of Maelgwn, and he sent her here to
Caer Eryri for fostering.”

“She is very kind,” agreed Aurora. “I am
most grateful for her help.”

“You look very lovely tonight, Aurora,”
Balyn said admiringly. “Maelgwn is a lucky man.”

Aurora blushed and glanced at her husband.
He seemed to be deep in conversation with Evrawc, and for once she
was glad he was ignoring her. She could not have hidden her anger
toward him if he had tried to speak with her just then. She looked
back at Balyn and caught him watching her with curiosity. She
wondered with embarrassment how much he knew of her relationship
with Maelgwn.