Dragon of the Island (2 page)

Aurora’s chest was tight with shock. Her
father couldn’t possibly mean to go through with this agreement.
Surely he had another plan, some plot to defy this madman!

Aurora pushed frantically through the crowd,
trying to reach her mother. As she struggled by, she heard the
relieved comments of the townspeople.

“Well, he was hard, but at least we can live
with his demands.”

“Aye, live with them, we can. I thought it
would come to war, and I am too old to fight those young,
well-drilled devils. It is too bad about Constantine’s daughter
though.”

“He will choose Julia, I’m sure. She is the
oldest and quite a beauty.”

“All the girls are fair,” countered another
man. “That must be the hardest part for Constantine to
swallow—imagine having to give your child to that brute!”

The words affected Aurora like a blow, and
she struggled even more furiously against the crowd. At last she
was able to break away and reach the kitchen. It was crowded and
chaotic. Servants hurried to and fro, trying frantically to prepare
the unexpected meal. Aurora asked one of them about her mother, and
the man gestured to a small anteroom that was used for storage of
wine and oil. Aurora found her mother and Julia there, arguing.
Julia’s blue-green eyes flashed with fury, and her fair skin was
flushed scarlet.

“He can’t do this! Father can’t possibly
agree. We aren’t cattle to be sent off to pay a war debt.” Julia
grabbed a small knife from the nearby table and waved it
menacingly. “Why, if that beast of a Welshman tries to touch me,
I’ll kill him myself!”

Aurora felt a surge of pride at her sister’s
defiant words. Julia was right—their conqueror was an uncouth
monster. No Cornovii princess should have to marry him!

Her mother’s next words reminded Aurora of
the grim truth.

“I’ll not have you blaming your father and
bringing shame upon him,” Lady Cordelia said firmly, taking the
knife from Julia’s trembling hand. “He has done the best he could
to protect his people. He cannot refuse Maelgwn’s demand without
risking our lives.”

Aurora’s mother’s face softened. She reached
out for Julia and gathered her into her arms. “Would that he could
spare you, Julia, but your father is king. He must do what is best
for his people, and you must obey him.”

Aurora felt her own heart sink, and she
turned away quickly, unable to face Julia’s tears. Her hope that
her father had some plan to defy Maelgwn was completely dashed. It
was likely that her oldest sister would be forced to wed Maelgwn,
and there did not seem to be anything that anyone could do about
it.

On the way out of the kitchen Aurora met her
other sister.

“Carina! Where have you been?”

“I have been praying.” Carina reached out
and clasped Aurora’s hand gently in her own. “Are you all right,
little one?”

“Aye—except that I am so angry. It’s not
right that one of us should be forced to marry that arrogant
savage.”

“Right or not, it is the way of the world.
We are all destined to marry foreign chieftains. The bond of our
blood will forge alliances for the future of Viroconium.”

Aurora stared at her sister’s calm blue
eyes. “You mean you are not afraid? What if Maelgwn chooses
you?”

Carina sighed faintly. “If it be God’s will
that I marry this man, then God will be with me to bear it.”

Aurora felt the anger in her bubbling up and
spilling out. No one seemed willing to fight Maelgwn. It made her
furious.

“It/s fortunate I am the youngest and
unlikely to be the bride. I don’t think I could endure it!”

Carina shook her head reprovingly. “Come,
Aurora, we must go back to the villa and change before the
feast.”

“No,” Aurora answered, pulling away. “I have
no intention of dressing up to impress that tyrant. The rest of you
may be willing to grovel before Maelgwn the Great, but I am
not.”

Aurora left the great hall and took off at a
run, darting down the old Roman streets until she was breathless
and sweating. Near the edge of the town, she paused to gaze up at
the towering ruins of the old baths, silhouetted in the fading
sunlight. Even cracked and half-shattered, the vast archways and
proud pillars of the once-magnificent building stirred Aurora’s
pride. She squinted and tried to imagine what Viroconium must have
been like in the old days, when the buildings were all of stone,
the streets fine and smooth, and the town filled with the color and
pride of the legions.

She sighed and continued on until she
reached the town wall. Walking along it for a short distance, she
came to a place where it had begun to tumble down. Hiking up her
skirts, she climbed the crumbling wall and jumped down to the other
side.

In the distance she could see the white
stone walls and red tile roof of her father’s villa. The sight
lifted her spirits and calmed her nerves. The villa was home—she
knew every fragrant corner of the orchard and garden, every secret
nook around the sprawling house, every horse in the stables, every
hound in the kennel.

Aurora hurried down the dusty road and
through the villa’s gate. As she crossed the paved courtyard, she
picked up speed. Marcus, a slave in her father’s stables, was her
best friend and closest companion, and she could hardly wait to
tell him the news of the enemy army’s arrival. Inside the stables,
she squinted in the dim light and made her way past the stalls
until she found Marcus below the hayloft, repairing some harnesses
with studied nonchalance. The white boarhound puppy she had given
him in the spring wagged its tail in greeting and ran to meet her.
Marcus only looked up and then went back to his work.

His indifference irritated Aurora’s jangled
nerves past endurance.

“Aren’t you glad to see me?” she demanded.
“Maelgwn and his men might have sacked the city and killed us all,
and yet you stay here and go about your chores as if you had not a
care in the world.”

“You forget that I am a slave and cannot
bear arms,” Marcus answered slowly. “What use would I be to you if
I went into town?” His gray eyes narrowed. “Besides, I didn’t
really think Constantine would fight.”

Aurora gasped with annoyance. “You knew my
father was going to surrender?”

Marcus shrugged. “What else could he do? He
couldn’t stand against an army such as Maelgwn’s. I assumed
Constantine would meet the enemy’s terms.”

It was Aurora’s turn to be bitter. “Aye, he
has done that. My father agreed to everything Maelgwn
demanded—including that one of his daughters is to become Maelgwn’s
wife.”

There was a flicker of interest in Marcus’s
eyes.

“Will it be Julia?”

Aurora avoided his probing look. “Maelgwn
has not chosen yet,” she said coolly. “He will select one of us as
his queen tonight after the feast.”

Marcus seemed to grow white beneath his
tanned skin.

“He will not choose you!”

Marcus said the words so fiercely, Aurora
took pity on him and told him the truth.

“It’s not likely. Traditionally, the eldest
daughter is married first. Julia and Carina’s dowries are much
greater than mine, and most people think they are much more
beautiful, too.” Aurora thought ruefully of her sisters’ lovely
fair hair and elegant manners. Next to them, she always felt plain
and awkward.

Marcus gave a contemptuous snort. “I am
glad, for once, that most men seem to be blind to true beauty.” He
met Aurora’s eyes, his face bright with an adoring smile. “If I
were to have the chance to choose, there is no doubt which one I
would find most beautiful.”

Aurora smiled back, distracted. She was
still puzzling over how to find a way to thwart Maelgwn’s plans. If
only Marcus would be her ally.

“It doesn’t matter who will be the bride,”
she insisted. “We must think of some way to prevent this shameful
marriage.”

“How? Your father has already agreed to
it.”

“He could change his mind.”

“And do what? The enemy is already within
the gates of the city.”

“What if Maelgwn were poisoned at the
feast?”

Marcus looked aghast. “Your father would
never plot to kill one of his guests. It would be dishonorable!
Even if he did agree to such treachery, it wouldn’t succeed.
Maelgwn’s men would likely retaliate by slaughtering all of
you.”

“Perhaps that would be better. At least we
would die fighting!”

Marcus smiled faintly. “Brave words for a
little lass. You put them all to shame. But remember, Aurora, the
people of Viroconium have already shown their unwillingness to
fight. I imagine they are comfortably resigned to giving up one of
the royal princesses in exchange for their lives. Besides...”
Marcus’s face grew grim again, “... need I remind you that there
are worse things than death. You might be made a slave.”

Aurora shuddered. The fate of Marcus’s
family never ceased to horrify her. His grandmother had been a
Saxon princess who was captured by the Roman army and sold into
slavery. His mother was a house slave, his father a Roman nobleman.
All Marcus had to show for his bloodline of lost nobility were his
extraordinary good looks. Aurora never tired of admiring his thick
golden hair, slate gray eyes and finely sculpted features.

Aurora sighed, struggling to deal with the
truth of Marcus’s words. What could one young woman do against the
might of Maelgwn the Great? He was a despicable tyrant, but this
was an age of tyrants. The fortunes of the Roman British nobility
were on the wane, and ruthless chieftains like Maelgwn would soon
rule the whole country. It seemed likely that someday her beloved
Viroconium would go the way of the other ruined cities of the
crumbling Roman empire.

Marcus touched her cheek tentatively, and
his eyes glowed with longing. “Don’t fret, Aurora. I can’t bear to
see you so sad.”

Aurora sighed again and allowed Marcus to
embrace her. She nestled softly against his warmth, feeling his
work-hardened arms tighten around her.

“Aurora!”

They both stiffened at the sound of Lady
Cordelia’s voice.

“You’d better go,” Marcus said, releasing
her reluctantly.

“No doubt she wants me to dress and do my
hair before the feast,” Aurora complained. She looked down at her
dirty, sweat-stained gown and the tangle of unruly curls around her
shoulders. “I won’t heed her wishes this time! Maelgwn the Great is
nothing but a barbarian, and he deserves no better than this.”

Aurora gave Marcus a quick kiss and hurried
out the back way. She slipped through the apple orchard and the
woods, retraced her path over the town wall and through the
darkening streets. When she reached the great hall, she went
directly to the kitchen and offered her services. The cook looked
at her askance a moment and then nodded. Picking up an urn of wine,
Aurora left the kitchen triumphantly. It was perfect—it was
completely appropriate for the host’s daughter to wait on important
guests, and by posing as a serving wench she would have a chance to
observe the enemy up close without being detected.

Aurora walked briskly to the table where
Maelgwn and his men were seated. They still wore their swords and
battle attire, and Aurora doubted seriously if they had even
washed. She suppressed the urge to pour the contents of the urn in
Maelgwn’s lap, and went around the table, neatly pouring wine in
each finely wrought bronze cup.

The Cymru—as Maelgwn’s men called
themselves—talked quietly, their manner cautious and wary. Except
for Maelgwn, the foreigners were not tall, but they were powerfully
built. They had dark, rather deep-set eyes and long curly hair.
Like the men of Viroconium, they shaved their faces, although a few
wore mustaches.

Aurora returned to the kitchen for a tray of
food, and carried it back to the head table. This time she dared to
linger close to Maelgwn, and even ask if he would like more wine.
He looked up, noting her vaguely, and then shook his head. Aurora
moved on, trembling slightly. Even from a few inches away, Maelgwn
looked very intense and dangerous. What might he do if he
discovered she wasn’t really a serving girl?

As Aurora headed for another plate of food,
she saw her parents and sisters entering the hall. Julia shot
Aurora a look of horror, and her mother’s eyes grew wide. Lady
Cordelia leaned over to whisper to Constantine, and his eyes met
Aurora’s with a frightened stare. Aurora realized abruptly that her
impulsive urge to play spy might well cause trouble between her
father and his new ally. If Maelgwn found out who she was, he would
undoubtedly think Aurora’s father had put her up to the disguise,
and blame Constantine for deceiving him. Aurora swallowed hard,
cursing her own foolishness. When would she learn to think before
she acted?

Aurora ducked into the kitchen and stayed
there during the rest of the meal. Only when people finished
eating, and the crowded hall grew silent with expectation, did she
dare to slip out the doorway and take her place near the carved
supporting beam. She watched as Constantine led her sisters to
stand before Maelgwn. They looked beautiful in their finest gowns,
their golden hair elaborately braided. Aurora’s bitter resentment
returned. The enemy warlord did not deserve either of her sisters,
not even quarrelsome Julia!

Maelgwn watched as Constantine led his two
daughters to the dais. There was a soft sound of satisfaction from
the room, for both girls were quite comely. The eldest, whom
Constantine introduced first, had hair of a burnished gold color,
rich and shining like the sun. Lady Julia’s skin was a flawless
ivory, her eyes a brilliant blue green. She was small, but rather
buxom, showing a tendency toward plumpness.

The other girl’s beauty was, if anything,
even more arresting. Although Lady Carina’s hair was a plainer,
darker blond, her features were exquisitely perfect. Long dark
lashes hid her soft blue eyes, and her mouth was a delicious
rosebud.