The Eagle and the Raven Read Free

again and he paused.
    “How wet you are! Have you been looking for the dogs all this time? Take off your cloak or you will catch cold.”
    “Not tonight, Aricia,” he said firmly. “I am soaked and tired, and angry with you for keeping Caesar here. And I am angry with Tog for leaving me to seek on my own. I am going to find my own hearth.”
    She laughed. “What a sight you are, with that black scowl on your face and your hair hanging down your back in strings! I didn’t find Caesar and keep him here. He ran to me not half an hour ago. I was about to call for someone to take him to the kennels when you fell in. As for Tog, you know you have to take him by the scruff of his neck and shake him if you want anything done. Why are you so annoyed?” She went to him swiftly, tugged the cloak from his shoulders, and, gingerly holding it out, walked to the fire and laid it down. “Warm wine from the land of the sun,” she said gently, picking up a jug that sat in the embers. “Have a cup before you brave the night again, Caradoc. And talk to me. It is Samain, and I am lonely.”
    He sensed Caesar’s brown eyes upon him. Go now, he told himself. Go before once again your honor lies around you like pieces of smashed pottery. But she had poured the wine and as she held it under his nose, the spicy fumes steamed in his nostrils. He took the cup and warmed his hands around it, feeling his fingers tingle with new life. Then, he stepped further into the room and turned at the fire to let the heat penetrate his stiff legs.
    “I thought you did not fear Samain,” he remarked.
    She looked at him swiftly and went to sit on the edge of her bed. “I said that I was lonely, not that I was afraid. But you are afraid,” she mocked.
    “I have good cause to be,” he retorted, swallowing a great gulp of wine, feeling it burn its way into his stomach and spread its glow throughout his chest. “I am a chieftain. The demons delight in attacking royalty on this night.”
    “So am I of royal blood,” she said tartly, sitting straighter. “Have you forgotten? Have I been at Camulodunon so long that I seem just one more of Cunobelin’s spawn? I have not forgotten,” she finished softly, looking down at her hands, entwined softly in her white lap.
    He emptied his cup and reached down to pour himself another. “I’m sorry, Aricia,” he said. “Sometimes I do forget. You have been here for so long and we have all grown up together—you, me, Tog, Eurgain, Gladys, Adminius. How many years has it been since father began to call us the Royal War Band?”
    She closed her eyes as if some memory pained her, and he watched her covertly over the rim of his cup. She is so beautiful, he thought in growing resignation, looking at the pale complexion that never tanned with the summer sun, the delicate chin, the long black lashes lying on such high cheekbones. He wondered just when he had ceased to think of her as a hunting companion and begun to see a stranger. When she opened her eyes he recognized the enticing mysteries hidden there, intriguing confusions that he was too young to recognize as insecurities. For a while they scanned each other, he too tired to look away, mesmerized by her black eyes, she not seeing him, feeling back into the past.
    Suddenly she giggled. “Caradoc, you are steaming.”
    “What?”
    “Your breeches are drying out and the steam is rising in clouds! You look like some river god, emerging on a winter morning. Do take off your clothes or go away and stop making my little nest all damp.”
    “I suppose I had better take Caesar to the kennel,” he said reluctantly, feeling the wine swell his tongue and turn his limbs to lead.
    Shaking her head, Aricia stood up quickly. “Do not tempt your luck! We have already had more than we deserve tonight. Leave him here with me, or take him to your own hearth.” She glided to him, her tunic rustling, bringing with her a whiff of Roman perfume. “I am truly sorry for the trouble