Free The Dragon Prince by Mary Gillgannon

vowed not to do. But it was so hard
not to take delight in her pale, glowing beauty. He cleared his
throat. “Is there anything else you require for the night?”
    “Are you leaving?”
    “Nay, I will sleep beside the cart. But I
wondered if there wasn’t something else I could do to make you more
comfortable.”
    She shook her head. “I’ve plenty of blankets
and sheepskins to sleep on, and I ate my fill earlier.”
    “Well, good night.”
    He got his bedroll from his saddle pack and
spread it out on the ground. He had not wanted to bother with
having Arwistyl pitch his tent, especially since it looked to be a
clear, warm night. He settled himself in his bedroll and looked up
at the stars. Soft rustling sounds came from the cart beside him.
Was she uncomfortable, despite her assurances she had plenty of
blankets? Was that why she seemed to toss and turn?
    He thought of her, so close, so very close.
It almost seemed he could smell her, some fragrance that clung to
her skin from when she had last bathed. But maybe it was only the
honeysuckle and clover growing on the hill, casting their sweet
scent into the breeze. Whatever it was, it made his heart squeeze
in his chest and his loins tighten. He sighed. A fine summer night,
with all thoughts of battle and war forgotten. Despite the army
camp around them, it seemed as if there were only the two of
them—man and woman, dreaming beneath the starlit heavens.

Chapter 4
    They set out the next day under a bright
blue, cloudless sky. Rhun and Bridei rode side by side at the front
of the traveling party with Eastra behind them. Bringing up the
rear were five warriors clad in mail shirts. Three of them had dark
hair and swarthy skin, while the other two had flame-colored
tresses. There was enough of a resemblance between the darker men
that Eastra wondered if they were brothers.
    Her mount was a beautiful reddish brown
mare. She had never ridden such a regal beast, and she found the
mare’s gait to be smooth and graceful. As they rode out of the army
camp, where everyone was busily preparing to march, Eastra’s
spirits soared.
    Ahead of her, Rhun and Bridei spoke quietly,
obviously discussing the journey ahead of them. After a short
while, Rhun fell back to ride beside her. “It’s not too long a
journey. By nightfall we should be within sight of the city’s
walls.”
    “Have you ever been to Londinium before?”
Eastra asked.
    “Aye, several times. It’s an amazing place.
There, Saxons, Britons, and men who still call themselves citizens
of Rome all live side by side, engaged in a common cause.”
    “Which is?” Eastra prompted.
    Rhun grinned. “They are merchants, and that
makes them view politics and war differently than the rest of us.
They are loyal and devoted to only one thing— pecunia.”
    “ Pecunia?”
    “It’s a Roman word for wealth... gold...
cattle... coins.”
    “You sound critical of them,” Eastra said.
“But it seems to me they are more sensible than other men. Why
spend your time killing? Why not live in peace as the merchants
do?”
    His smile faded. “The merchants need only a
small shop in which to ply their trade, but most men need land.
Land to raise crops on, as your people do. And for Britons, land to
hunt on and to graze our herds and flocks.”
    She gestured to the broad green expanse of
hills around them. “It seems to me there is plenty of land here.
Enough for both your people and mine.”
    Rhun raised a brow. “Do you think your uncle
is a man inclined to share?”
    “Nay,” Eastra answered.
    “Well, neither is Arthur, nor are many
Britons. In our minds, it’s a simple thing. We were here first, so
we have the better claim.”
    “Is that why you fight?” she asked.
“Because you are greedy for land?”
    Rhun looked at her, and his expression
changed. “Nay, that’s not why I fight. My people live in the hills,
a land too rugged for farmers like the Saxons.”
    “Then why do you fight for Arthur?” She knew
she