Page 34 of The Dragon Ring
Cottia rose to the occasion and managed to produce braccae that fitted me well enough. Tutting over the outlandishness of me dressing like a boy, she packed my dresses into saddle bags.
“Be sure and put a dress on afore ye meet the High King,” she advised.
Supposing he was still alive. It must have taken days for Theodoric and his men to reach us, and it would take just as long to get back. The dying king might well be a dead and buried king before we got there.
Something puzzled me though– Arthur’s reaction to the news of his father’s imminent death. He’d given the impression he didn’t get on with him. Yet now he was desperate to rush to his bedside. Perhaps the indifference had been all show. I’d find out soon enough. Whatever the reason, it seemed vitally important to him to get there in as short a time as possible.
I changed out of my dress with relief. I was a jeans and T-shirt girl, really. The braccae had been made for a youth and fitted me snugly, and the tunic, embroidered around the neckline and hems, only came to mid-thigh. A woven belt gathered it round my waist, and I finished by lacing up my walking boots.
I was so absorbed in thinking how I could turn these events to my favor that I didn’t speak to Cottia as she worked. Instead, I planned how to get away from the Viroconium-bound party without them noticing. I would have to take the first chance that offered itself.
After about ten minutes, Merlin came in to find me fastening a thick fur-lined riding cloak about my shoulders with a fibula brooch in the shape of a dragon.
He paused on the threshold, then nodded his approval. “Safer to travel as a boy. You’re to stick with me, and I’ll keep you safe. If anything should happen, we’re to get away as fast as we can. D’you understand?”
That sounded ominous. “Why? What d’you think might happen?” I asked. “Are you telling me we might meet Saxon raiding parties between here and Viroconium?”
He gave a shrug. “Not just Saxons. We have to pass through neighboring kingdoms and subkingdoms. In name they’re united beneath the High King and come together for the Council of Kings every year, but in practice they’re rarely on good terms– still less now the High King lies dying.”
Not a comforting thought.
“So you stick with me,” he repeated.
I nodded.
It seemed I was important again though. I was the bearer of the dragon ring, after all. If we were attacked, I certainly wouldn’t want to stay around, and I’d be no good in a fight. It might even be my opportunity to get away from them. “Do I get a weapon?” I asked. “Just in case I need to defend myself?” Better to be safe than sorry.
Merlin nodded. “Good idea. Cottia, the small dagger in the weapons chest. The one with the serpent’s head.”
She brought it, and he drew it from its tooled leather scabbard to show me a slim, lethal-looking blade that glowed with life in the torch-lit chamber. The hilt was formed in the shape of a sinuous snake, its blunt head wicked and dangerous. A belt that came with it fastened round my waist, the knife sitting on my left hip. It felt as though it belonged there, and I had a sudden unnerving vision of me whipping it out and holding it between myself and threatened but unspecified dangers.
I faltered. What was I doing? I now had a knife of my own, and I was even considering using it. What was to stop me? Only my twenty-first-century sensibilities, and how long would they withstand the temptations of the fifth? They already felt as though they were crumbling. How swiftly one’s morals could change.
Cei’s bulky and helmeted self appeared in the doorway. “Time to leave.” Then he was gone.
I followed Merlin out into the now empty Hall. The rushes rustled softly underfoot as we passed, embers glowed in the hearth, and smoke curled around the rafters. Suddenly, it felt like a safe haven, the only one I knew, and that I was heading into the terrifying unknown. I wanted to stay here with Cottia, despite her huffy attitude. My stomach churned, but I stayed silent. We stepped out into the raw daylight.
Riders and people milled everywhere. Tulac was holding the reins of a sturdy bay cob, already strapped with my saddle bags. Merlin gave me a powerful leg up into the saddle, and I gathered my reins as I settled myself. Tulac released his hold and stepped out of the way. This horse felt very different from Corwyn’s half broken-down old nag. He fidgeted beneath me, and I tightened the reins one-handed, running my other hand down his neck under the thick mane, whispering to quieten him. His ears flickered back toward me as he listened.
“Gwen!”
Startled, I looked up.
Near the doors to the Great Hall, Llacheu stood with a tall, slender young woman, her long auburn hair in two thick braids that reached her waist. Her pretty face had a pointed chin and catlike eyes. His mother, Tangwyn. There was very little of her in Llacheu; he was all Arthur’s.
Instinctively, I didn’t like her. I didn’t know why. She’d done nothing to me, and I’d not met her yet. I liked her son, probably because he was so like his father, but for her, all I could feel was a sense of foreboding and distrust. I raised my hand and smiled at the little boy, and he waved back. His grandfather’s imminent demise didn’t seem to have bothered him at all. He’d probably never met him. His mother watched me out of her sleepy cat’s eyes, her face expressionless. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. For that I liked her even less.
Arthur emerged from the press of men mounting their horses and milling about in front of the Hall. He had his round leather helmet, studded with metal plates, tucked under his arm. A lanky boy led forward a big, dapple-grey cob, and I saw why Llacheu had a grey pony himself. It was to be like his father. The child was jumping up and down on the steps of the Hall, every inch of him aching to be noticed.
Leaving his helmet hooked onto his saddle, Arthur came striding over, bulky and solid in his padded armor, and swept the little boy up into the air. Llacheu let out a shriek of delighted excitement. Beside him, Tangwyn gazed up at the two of them together, a smile curving her pretty mouth, and Arthur passed the boy into her arms. She laughed, setting him down on the ground again. It was a carefree laugh, but as her eyes flicked toward me, I knew it was done for a purpose. She held out her arms to Arthur and he folded her to him. As she lifted her face to his, he gave her a long kiss on the lips.
I was annoyed. And then I was annoyed with myself for being annoyed. What on earth was I feeling like that for? He wasn’t mine. In fact, I didn’t even want him, did I? But she must have thought I wanted him, and that was why she’d done it. The equivalent of a dog pissing up against a tree to mark its territory. So why did I feel so annoyed that he’d kissed the mother of his child? I had to ask myself; was I actually jealous? It was a sobering thought. I pushed it out of my head and turned my horse downhill so I didn’t have to look at them and see him kiss her again, see his hands on her hips holding her body to his. I had to get a hold of myself. This was utterly ridiculous.
It wouldn’t go out of my head, though. I’d thought he liked me. In fact, when he’d smiled down into my eyes last night in the Great Hall I’d thought he wanted me. Me, that was, not just the possibility of the power his marriage to me might bring. I didn’t want him though, did I? Reluctantly, I acknowledged that I wanted him to want me. I’d thought he did, and now I wasn’t so sure. Maybe he’d just been being polite. Maybe I’d mistaken friendliness and warmth for flirting. Maybe he flirted with every woman he met.
Merlin brought his horse up beside me, his knee pressing hard against mine. He too wore a mail shirt and helmet, his sword thrust into a scabbard carried on his back, his shield hanging from one of the horns on his saddle. His emblem was a swooping bird, blue on a yellow background– a merlin falcon. “Everything all right with you?” he asked, a single eyebrow raised.
I was annoyed with him this time. Had he seen me watching Arthur and Tangwyn and guessed why I’d turned my horse away? Did he have any inkling as to how I felt? I had a horrible feeling he did. I felt myself coloring.
