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commander-in-chief of the Dragon Legion of Brydein, one of the duties he took most seriously was the presentation of a good example.
    And “good examples” did not include throttling the woman whose refusal to release her son to Arthur’s envoy was the reason for his personal excursion into Caledonian territory. The image of his fingers wrapped around Alayna’s neck, however, was amusing. He felt his lips twitch in the barest of smiles.
    “Want to share the joke, Arthur?”
    Although his foster brother, Cai, had spoken, Arthur’s other close friend, Bedwyr, also was regarding Arthur expectantly. Neither man was assigned to the cavalry; Cai commanded the infantry garrison at Camboglanna, and Bedwyr headed the fleet. Arthur had invited them along to represent the other branches of Brydein’s military forces to demonstrate to Chieftainess Alayna the seriousness of his intent. And he had to admit he was glad of this rare opportunity for their company. The press of duties took the three of them in different directions all too often these days.
    The only person missing from this assemblage—though Arthur couldn’t call him friend—was Urien, former commander of First Ala whom Arthur had recently promoted to command the new Brytoni-Caledonian cavalry cohort. But Urien was busy conducting another affair on behalf of Brydein, one just as vital in securing peace with the Caledonians.
    In response to Cai’s question, Arthur shook his head and swallowed another mouthful of ale. Some things he did not share with a soul, and anything that might be construed as a breach of diplomacy certainly fell into that category.
    “That’s our Pendragon.” Bedwyr’s grin was mischievous. Little more than a year after his appointment, Arthur was still getting accustomed to hearing the title that went with the position of Dux Britanniarum: Pendragon, “Chief Dragon.” And well Bedwyr knew it. “Secretive as ever.”
    That won Arthur’s chuckle. “If you two must know, I was imagining what I might do to our wayward ally. And not what you might think, Cai.” He chuckled again as Cai, who had been ogling one of the buxom serving maids, whipped his head around at the sound of his name. He laid a hand to his neck and winced. “Careful, my brother. One day your lust will get you into real trouble.”
    “As if yours won’t.” The serving maid bustled to Arthur’s side of the table and bent over farther than necessary to set before him a fresh flagon of ale, offering Arthur a tempting view of her cleavage. Cai snorted. “You see the effect that damnably handsome face of yours has on the women.”
    Arthur saw. And he chose not to be tempted but kept his gaze leveled at Cai. “At least the word ‘discretion’ is in my vocabulary.”
    Cai’s only reply was a short bark of laughter.
    Bedwyr, it seemed, was not above vying for the young woman’s attentions, either. He interrupted the shy smile he was giving her just long enough to say, “But where’s the fun in that, Arthur?”
    Fun, indeed. Although the pleasures of female company were not unknown to Arthur, such encounters had only satisfied an immediate physical need. The woman with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life would not be a mere bedchamber accessory but someone he hoped would share his vision for a united Brydein and help him usher that vision into being. Such a woman he had yet to meet. That included Chieftainess Alayna, despite her rather obvious attempts to convince him otherwise at the treaty-signing feast.
    Not for the first time, he wondered if such a woman even existed.
    He rose from the table and addressed his friends. “You two settle this matter”—he jerked a nod toward the serving woman—“between yourselves. I plan to be as well rested as possible for my meeting tomorrow with Chieftainess Alayna.”
    Was it his imagination, or did the woman’s lips purse into a pout as he passed her on his way toward the door? It didn’t matter; he had been