Here Be Dragons - 1 (31 page)

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At any moment others might hear, pick up the chant, and she was lot ready yet, needed more time. Her fear of the marriage bed was not a fe of
Llewelyn himself, for he had given her no reason to think he'd L brutal or abusive. Her fear was rather of the unknown. She coul

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south end of the hall . .h the door, just wait the '-.yes, but. . .but why?
. without attracting attention. Once yon hp door just wait there for me. Can you do that?" ^Yes, but... but why?"
"Did you not say you had no taste for the bedding revels?" "I do not understand," Joanna said slowly. "We could never hope ape the hall unseen. Nor could you forbid the revelries. Too many *°enare drunk, beyond reason."
"I can see your father never told you much of his campaigns, , j^? You're woefully ignorant of battle tactics," Llewelyn said and nned "No more questions. You must take me on trust, love, or not at & all!"
The unexpected endearment so flustered Joanna that she abandoned further argument, did as he bade. By the time she'd taken up her position near the door, she'd managed to guess what he had in mind; a quick glance back over her shoulder caught him in whispered collusion with two of his men. But even though she was expecting what happened next, the realism of the brawl took her by surprise. A shove, a snarl, and suddenly they were rolling about on the floor, pummeling one another with enough verve to draw all eyes. Joanna, too, found herself straining to see, did not even notice Llewelyn's approach until he grabbed her hand, pulled her through the doorway.
"Make haste," he warned, "ere we be missed," hurrying her across the solar, toward the corner stairwell. They were only halfway up when they heard the sudden noise rising from the hall. Llewelyn swore, quickened his pace, all but dragging a breathless Joanna after him. By the time they reached the top of the stairs, they could hear a hue and cry below, but by then Llewelyn had the door open, shoved Joanna inside. He was laughing so hard that he could hardly get the bolt into place, managed it only moments before the first of their pursuers lurched against the door.
Joanna sank down, panting, upon a coffer. "My lord, that was wonderful!" she exclaimed, looking at Llewelyn with shining eyes.
Still laughing, Llewelyn moved to the table, reached for a wine "agon. "Do you not think it time you began to make use of my given name?" he asked, and with that, Joanna's excitement congealed into ice.
"Do you want wine?"
Joanna shook her head, at once regretted her refusal. Mayhap wine ^'°uld have warmed, have thawed this frozen feeling that seemed cen" ln tr»e pit of her stomach. Unable to meet Llewelyn's eyes, she
8 anced nervously about the chamber. Isabelle and the other ladies had of ne
*eir work well. There were fresh rushes for the floor, a plenitude eandles, wine, and wafers, a well-stoked fire, for May nights could be

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chill in Cheshire. The enormous bed was one of Chester's best, Cu tained and piled high with coverlets; there were even flower peKi strewn over the turned-back sheets.
"Oh, no!" Joanna was on her feet, staring at the bed. "My ]0 Llewelyn, the blessing! I did not think of it before, but in shunning th revels, we'll forfeit, as well, the priest's blessing of our marriage bed!"
"Well, that can be remedied easily enough. We need only open th door."
Joanna's hesitation was brief. From the noise in the stairwell, it sounded as if half of the wedding party were congregating outside the door. No longer pounding for admittance, they'd begun to serenade the bridal couple with ribald good humor, interspersing the song with rather explicit encouragements and instructions.
"No, let's make do without the blessing," she said hastily, and Llewelyn bit back a smile. Setting the wine cup down, he said, "Joanna, come here."
She did, slanting one swift look up at him through her lashes, a look of involuntary entreaty.
"Your veil is askew." Tossing it onto the table, he let his hand linger upon her hair. Her lashes now shadowed her cheeks. She scarcely seemed to be breathing, so still was she, but her body was rigid under his touch; sliding his fingers along her throat, he could feel the wild throbbing of her pulse.
When had he first realized he could not take this little girl to bed? When she'd fled the window seat, leaving behind a rose-colored veil? Or was it when she'd begged him to let her keep her dog, sounding for all the world like one of his own daughters? He leaned down, brushed his lips against her forehead.
He could find in himself no desire to bed a child. Mayhap if she were naked under him in bed . . . but why should he force himself to a coupling that would give him little pleasure and her none at all? It had been only two days, after all, since he'd lain with Cristyn. He felt no particular need for a woman tonight, would as soon sleep; in truth, it had been no small strain, seeking to keep his men and Chester's from each other's throats. But how best to explain it to the lass, to keep her from seeing his restraint as rejection?
"I would not have you fear me, Joanna. I would not ever hurt you, God's truth, I would not."
"I shall do my best to be a good wife," Joanna said, almost inaudibly, sounding so young that Llewelyn felt a sharp pang of pity.
"Joanna, listen. You need not deny your fears, not to me. It is only natural that you should have such qualms. I think, though, that I can ease your mind.
We have time enough and more, need not consummat6

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arriage this first night There is no reason why we cannot wait °UrhU am not such a stranger to you "
Un I anna stared at him, openmouthed She did not know what to say, t thanked him, realizing just in time how insulting that would d He'd turned away, moving to extinguish the candles She
5011 . e(j until he began to undress, then she retreated to the other side wa, e bed, fumbling with the lacings of her bliaut Unlike Llewelyn, ° h stripped with casual haste, letting his clothes drop where they lay, h took her time, carefully folding each garment in turn, not approach-
the bed until he was already settled under the coverlets Sliding in her side of the bed, she tensed as Llewelyn leaned toward her, but he merely kissed her lightly on the cheek, murmured, "Sleep well, Siwan "
Only then did Joanna relax, stretch out on the sheets She lay very still for a tame, listening to Llewelyn's even breathing beside her in the dark, utterly bewildered by the perversity of her own emotions She should be so thankful, so grateful for this reprieve and she was So why, then, was there this strange sense of almost of letdown7 Why was there such a flat, empty feeling7 It was not at all uncommon for a man to wed a very young girl, not laying with her until she was of age But she was not a child She was fourteen, fully two years older than Isabelle when Papa had bedded her No man would ever have abstained from Isabelle's bed, that she knew for certes How little to Llewelyn's liking she must be
Without warning, tears filled her eyes She blinked them back angrily, wiped her face on the corner of the sheet She'd not give in to selfpity She had no cause to feel sorry for herself Llewelyn could have been so different, could have been arrogant, crude, even cruel But he was none of those things Had he not been Welsh, had he only been a Norman lord, she would have been thanking
God for her good fortune And the worst was now over, their first meeting, the wedding, the bedding revels, the
"Oh, Jesus God'"
Sitting upright in the bed, she reached over, shook Llewelyn's shoulder "Llewelyn, Llewelyn, wake up please1" He awakened at her touch, but looked at her so blankly that she realized he did not at once remember who she was "The sheets' Come morning, the wedding
Party will enter our chamber, will examine the sheets to see if they be oodied, to see if I came to my marnage bed a virgin But the sheets will i dean' They'll be clean, and I I'll be shamed, shamed before dll "
Llewelyn swore under his breath, the words were Welsh, but his e needed no translation Joanna shrank back For a long moment,

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his eyes rested upon her face; even in the firelight, her pallor show all too clearly. And then he threw the covers back, rose from the b H Joanna heard him bump into the table, curse again, and she pulled th sheet up under her chin, having no idea what he was searching fOr the dark.
There was a sudden flare of light; Llewelyn had at last found flj and tinder.
He lingered by the table long enough to drink what re mained in his wine cup.
Now that he was fully awake, his sense of humor was beginning to reassert itself, and he was laughing quietly to himself by the time he returned to the bed; this was, after all, hardly the way he'd expected to pass his wedding night.
"Hold this," he said, thrusting a candle toward Joanna. Her eyes widened at sight of the slender dagger blade, and he could not help laughing again. What in God's name did she think he meant to do with it? "I hope you do not mind, love, if you lose your maidenhead with only modest bleeding? I've been fighting for nigh on twenty years, and have had my share of hurts, but I can say for certes that never will I get a stranger scar!"
Joanna said nothing, watched as he drew the blade against the underside of his forearm, stanched the bleeding with the sheets. She was very close at that moment to hating him; what was to him such a source of obvious amusement was to her an acute humiliation. How could he laugh at her like this, be so cruel?
Did he not realize how it shamed her, that she must fake the loss of her virginity, when other wives, no matter how plain, were wanted, bedded, even cherished?
Llewelyn was leaning over, concealing the knife under the bed, and she breathed upon the candle. When he would have kissed her cheek, she averted her face, and he gave her a sudden thoughtful look, but he said only, "You'd best sleep now, Siwan. We do depart for Wales on the morrow."
"You did call me that before . . . She-one. What does it mean?"
"Siwan?" Llewelyn yawned. "It is Welsh for Joan or Joanna."
"I am Joanna! Not Siwan, Joanna! I'll not lose my name, too!" No sooner were the words out of her mouth than Joanna froze, appalled by what she'd done. A
wife had no right to speak so to her husband. Women were beaten for much less.
Llewelyn had raised himself up on his elbow, was staring at her, his face unreadable in the shadowy lightShe swallowed, whispered, "I am sorry, my lord, so sorry"
"No, Joanna, you owe me no apology," he interrupted, and then added something utterly incomprehensible to her. "You see," he said softly, "my mother's name was Marared . . . not Margaret." There was a pause, and then he rolled over, reached for his pillow. "Joanna it shall be. But I ought to warn you; I do not know what my people will make 01

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. t of them speak no French . . . and there is no letter / in the Welsh
The chamber was quiet. Feeling somehow as if she'd won the battle lost the war, Joanna slid over, until the width of the bed was been them. It was only then that the full impact of his words registered 'th her. On the morrow, he'd said, they would depart for Wales. She'd wrong, so very wrong. The worst was not over.
16
ABER, NORTH WALES
Ma|j 1206
Wu
V VALES, Llewelyn explained to Joanna, was divided into cantrefs and commotes, similar in nature to the English shires. His favorite palace was at Aber, the royal seat of the commote of Arllechwedd Uchaf, fifty-three miles west of
Chester. It was a journey of two days; they rode into Aber at dusk on
Saturday.
"We're home, Joanna." Reining in beside her, Llewelyn smiled. "Aber
GwyngregynMouth of the White Shell River."
"A beautiful name," Joanna said faintly. Only now were her breathing and heartbeat getting back to normal. She'd never been so frightened as in the past few hours, clinging dizzily to her mare's saddle pommel as the horse picked its way along an alpine trail of truly treacherous dimensions. So narrow that two horses could not ride abreast, so dose to the cliff that
Joanna could hear the pounding of surf against the rocks below. The pass of
Penmaenmawr, Llewelyn called it, Welsh for End of the Large Stone." By then, alerted by Joanna's chalk-white pal'°r, he'd taken the mare's reins himself, and as the trail wound ever upward, Joanna had at last simply closed her eyes, sought to concentrate only upon the reassuring murmur of Llewelyn's voice. She was embarrassed at showing her fear so nakedly, although at least she'd stained more dignity than Blanche, who, when not whimpering, was s°bbing prayers to every saint on the Church calendar. Joanna belatedly

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understood why Llewelyn had declined the Earl of Chester's offer of a baggage cart. She could only marvel at the nonchalance of the Welsh who braved these heights with the ease of eagles, and she was grateful when Llewelyn, after assuring her that Aber was not perched upon a mountain peak, confessed that he had no liking himself for the sea never set foot on shipboard without feeling his stomach lurch, sink like a stone.
She was indeed lucky, Joanna reminded herself now, had no cause for complaint in the husband God and her father had given her. And she would do her best somehow to make his world her own. With that resolution, she drew rein for her first look upon Aber.
Llewelyn's palace was encircled by a deep, man-made ditch, fortified by wooden palisades, much like John's favorite hunting lodges at Freemantle and
Clipstone. Passing through the gatehouse into a bailey packed with people, Joanna saw wooden buildings such as she'd expect in any Norman lord's manor:
stables and barn, a kiln and kitchens, privy chambers, kennels for Llewelyn's hunting dogs, quarters for those not bedding down in the great hall. Joanna was not sure what she'd thought to find, but she felt relief, nonetheless, that her surroundings were so familiar, were neither alien nor exotic.
Llewelyn had no sooner dismounted than he was engulfed by wellwishers. For the moment forgotten, Joanna watched as a young boy and several small girls ran forward, flung themselves into Llewelyn's arms. Joanna was taken aback by the exuberance of their welcome; she would never have given her father so uninhibited a public greeting. But she was not as startled as she might have been twenty-four hours earlier. In that brief span, she'd seen ample evidence to document the Norman aphorism that there was not a Welshman born who did know his proper place. For certes, she thought, none of her father's subjects would have dared approach him as these Welsh men and women were crowding around Llewelyn.
Llewelyn had remembered he was bringing back a bride, and moving toward
Joanna, he reached up to lift her from the saddle. Acutely aware of all eyes upon her, she slid to the ground, smiled at her husband's children. They were attractive youngsters, but solemn, unsmiling, and remembering her own nervous unease about meeting Isabella Joanna's heart went out to them.
ed
SEATED beside Llewelyn upon the dais in the great hall, Joanna receive0 the acknowledgments of her husband's subjects, now hers, too. White the chief officers of Llewelyn's court spoke French of necessity, few ° their wives did, and relieved of the need to make polite conversation'