Free The Dragon Prince by Mary Gillgannon Page B

cause
to doubt your honor,” Rhun said.
    Bridei shrugged, then met Eastra’s gaze, his
vivid blue eyes mocking and self-depreciative. “So, you see, I am
the evil spawn, and Rhun the saint. But remember, saints have their
drawbacks. Much of the time they are so unholy grim and serious,
the rest of us can hardly stand to be around them. Here we are,
riding out on this fine, glorious day, and all my brother can do is
talk of politics and honor.” He winked. “I can tell you such is not
my idea of how to entertain a beautiful princess. If I were him, I
would seek to make you laugh and be merry.” He grinned again, then
suddenly began to sing. It was a playful tune, about a man courting
a maid and all the outrageous, absurd tasks he promised to perform
in order to win her love.
    Bridei’s voice was rich and deep, and Eastra
felt spellbound as she listened. As the vibrant melody echoed
across the hills around them, she could almost feel her worries and
concerns falling away. When he had finished, she said, “That was
wonderful. Are you what your people call a bard?”
    “Not a true one,” Bridei answered. “I was
never willing to undergo the rigorous training to learn all the
sagas and heroic tales an official bard must know. It takes near a
score of years for that.” He smiled. “But Arthur sees fit to keep
me around anyway. He knows I have the means to gladden his men’s
hearts when they are heavy or to compose a satisfying tribute when
one of their own is lost. I believe he counts me as useful, in my
way, as any of his Companions.”
    Eastra glanced at Rhun. He nodded. “My
brother has a way with words. Although I think if Arthur had any
idea what mischief he sometimes causes, he might not be so pleased
to have Bridei in his army train.”
    “What mischief?” Bridei asked, his face a
mask of innocence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
    Rhun rolled his eyes, and Eastra looked from
one man to the other. How different these two brothers were, not
merely in looks, but in the way they saw things. She could not help
being drawn to Bridei’s lighthearted nature. After the harshness of
her life, his playful outlook was as appealing as a burst of
sunshine among the clouds. But she admired Rhun as well, for his
thoughtfulness and kindness.
    But there was certainly more than admiration
in her feelings for him. Being near him aroused a deep yearning.
His tall, well-muscled physique and gold-streaked hair reminded her
of her countrymen, and yet he was different, his eyes a deeper,
grayer blue, his features finer, his hair darker and slightly wavy.
The subtle strangeness of his appearance aroused and attracted her.
Never before had she met a man she desired to lie with, to have him
touch her and put his mouth on hers. But she felt that way with
Rhun. And the longer she was near him, the more intense those
feelings became.
    Caught up as she was in her thoughts, she
didn’t notice the change in the landscape. Then all at once, she
saw they had left the rolling hills and moved down into small
valley. The grass and vegetation here grew lush and deep, a more
brilliant green than she’d ever seen before, and there were strange
shaped mounds scattered here and there. A sense of desolation
hovered in the air, and when she saw a blackened, half-burned tree
with blackbirds on the barren branches, she experienced a strange,
uneasy feeling, a vague sense of recognition. Then she caught a
glimpse of the waving heads of the grainfield and knew. Her body
went rigid and her throat seemed to close up. It was as if a cloud
had passed over the sun, and the world was suddenly cold and
bleak.
    “Jesu.” She heard Rhun swear, and knew he
had also guessed what they had come upon. “Eastra,” he said. “I’m
sorry. I didn’t know this was here. I was merely taking the most
direct route.”
    Eastra shook her head, unable to respond.
Every patch of green made the gorge rise in her throat. Was there a
body hidden in the tall