The Dragon Prince by Mary Gillgannon Read Free Book Online Page A

his brother’s
wool tunic, wishing it was Bridei’s neck he was wringing. Then he
realized the angrier he became, the more his brother would taunt
him. The only way to deal with Bridei was to refuse to rise to his
bait.
    Slowly, he loosened his grip. “I’m not like
you,” he said coldly. “I do think about someone other than myself
sometimes. There are a dozen reasons I cannot lie with the Saxon.
But even if there weren’t so many arguments against it, I still
wouldn’t do such a thing. She’s a princess of her people, not a
whore or serving girl. The only man fit to take her to bed is the
one who takes her to wife.”
    “But you said she is unlikely to be married
because of her years as a slave.”
    Rhun took a deep breath. For every argument
he came up with, clever Bridei would find one to refute it.
Already, he could feel a part of himself weakening. Eastra had said
herself it was doubtful she would ever wed. Why should she not know
some happiness in life? If she truly wished for him to love
her...
    Nay, he could not think like that. She might
want him now, then hate herself later. Besides, he had a duty to
Arthur’s cause. His commander would expect better of him than to
become involved with a hostage.
    He shook his head. “My vow to Arthur must
come before everything else.”
    “Of course,” Bridei said, still
grinning.

Chapter 3
    Eastra placed the gold and garnet necklace
around her neck, then lifted the polished bronze mirror to gaze at
her reflection in the lamplight. The dozens of stones in the heavy
piece shone like drops of blood. Sighing, she lowered the mirror.
Her plan had succeeded but even so her stomach fluttered with
anxiety. What if she were wrong about Rhun ap Maelgwn and he cared
nothing for her? She was delivering herself into the hands of the
enemy, and, having heard many tales of the Britons’ ruthlessness
and barbarity, she was more than a little uneasy. Cerdic was right.
She must go to them in all her splendor, decked in jewels and
finery, so they would know she was valuable to him and that if she
were abused or wronged in any way, he would avenge her most
cruelly.
    Of course he would avenge her, she thought
bitterly. Not because he cared for her as his kin, a living,
breathing woman, but because she was a symbol of his pride and
power. She had been reduced once again to being an object, a piece
of property. Which was the reason she was doing all this. She
believed that to Rhun ap Maelgwn, she was more than an object, that
he saw her as a woman and cared for her feelings.
    But what if she assumed too much? What if he
had no real interest in her? It had all happened so fast. She’d had
no time to tell him about her plan and watch his reaction. And now
she was trapped, trapped in a plot of her own making. She adjusted
her best gunna, smoothing the saffron-colored fabric embroidered
with flowers on the bodice and sleeves, then left her sleeping
chamber.
    When Mordred arrived from Londinium, the
hostage exchange took place in the open area outside the Saxon
fortress. A faint queasiness spread through Rhun’s stomach as he
watched Arthur’s bastard son walk to meet the enemy. Mordred moved
easily, almost nonchalantly. His lean, graceful build reminded Rhun
of Bridei. Like Bridei, Mordred had a cunning, handsome face that
appealed to women, but made men wary.
    Rhun had observed the meeting between Arthur
and his son the night before. Mordred had behaved in his usual
manner, mocking and scornful of his father, his words edged with
sarcasm and hostility. And yet he’d agreed to serve as hostage.
Even he could not defy the high king of Britain. But what sort of
hostage would he be? Could they trust him not to conspire with the
enemy? Arthur seemed sure of his son. Maybe he had some sort of
hold over him no one else knew about. Rhun hoped so.
    As Mordred reached the Saxon contingent,
Rhun saw Eastra step forward, staring straight ahead. A bodyservant
leading a heavily laden packhorse