Here Be Dragons - 1 (51 page)

on his behalf, had persuaded John to issue a safe-conduct, and de Braose thought John would be more likely to honor it in the blaze of full noon. He knelt, said, "I have come to beg my King's pardon, to ask what I must do to make amends, to regain your trust."
"Indeed? Shall I tell you how to mend a broken trust? Pluck the feathers from a goose, scatter them to the four winds. Then gather them all up, each and every one, and put them back on the goose. It is as easy as that."
John had won triumph after triumph during his two months in Ireland, had scattered his enemies, brought the ever-rebellious Irish barons to heel, had
Maude in his hands and her husband on his knees. But he did not look like a man savoring his victories; he looked drawn and tired, almost haggard, and de
Braose could take no comfort from what he read in those narrowed hazel eyes.
"I have offended you, and for that I am well and truly sorry. But I am loyal to you, my liege, would never betray you. Let me prove myself. Set for me a task, I'll not fail you." De Braose sought to slow his breathmg, added very softly, "Christ, John, it never had to come to this, I swear it."
John's favorite falcon was perched upon his left arm, talons digging lnto the padded leather wrist-guard. It was unhooded, made harsh, gut^tfal sounds low in its throat, and John stroked the sleek feathers with a gloved hand, spoke softly and soothingly until it quieted. "My lords of Chester and Derby, amongst others, have urged me to show mercy. I °uld not want it said that I
was arbitrary, unjust. Mayhap we can yet

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reach an accord. If you were to pay a fine, one large enough to discharg your indebtedness to the crown, and to cover the costs I have incurred because of your rebellion, I would be willing to overlook your past of fenses, to give you and your sons full pardons."
De Braose was stunned. "And my wife? What of her?" he de manded, even as he sought feverishly to detect where the snare lay.
John smiled mirthlessly. "I've no wish to have her on my hands for life, that
I assure you. She would be released into your custody."
De Braose was still struggling with disbelief; he might have found it easier to believe John if he had not shared John's summary way with enemies. "I do accept your terms, Your Grace, am speechless, in truth," he said, without irony. "Have you an amount in mind?"
"I think forty thousand marks to be a fair sum," John said, and then de Braose understood.
"Indeed," he said tonelessly. "When do you want payment, my lord?"
There was no surprise whatsoever when John said, "You do have a fortnight to raise the money. Will that be acceptable?"
"Quite acceptable." At John's gesture, he rose to his feet, took the wine cup
John was offering, his own. Their eyes held as he drank, as he drained the cup. And then John gestured again, this time in dismissal.
MAUDE kept squeezing her husband's arm, as if to reassure herself of the reabty of his presence. "When they told me you were here, I could scarce believe it!"
"What of Will, Annora, the lads? Are they all right?"
She nodded. "Fearful, but unhurt. I'll confess, Will, that I've been none too easy myself." And even that understated admission surprised him; hers was a haughty spirit that made no allowances for frailties, that would never acknowledge weaknesses in herself. "Well? For the love of God, Will, tell me!
What did John say?"
"That we can buy absolution ... for forty thousand marks."
"Forty thousand! You must be joking! We could never raise that, no one could.
Did you not tell him so?"
"He already knows."
She stared at him, then sat down suddenly on the nearest coffer"We ... we could raise four, mayhap even five thousand. You could borrow from Derby and de Clare. Pembroke might even"
"Maude, it would not matter. Even if, by some miracle, we begged and borrowed the entire amount, it would not matter. Can you not see
He that' He deliberately demanded a sum he knows we can never pay- n is not going to give any pardons, and he is not going to let you go, n° for forty thousand marks, not for twice that amount."

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Her (ace did not at once show full comprehension; it came only in degrees, as if she were clinging as long as she could to the illusory security of denial.
"Christ have mercy," she whispered. "He'll keep me caged till I rot." She rose, began to pace. "God in Heaven, how I hate that man! May his misbegotten, cankered soul rot for aye in Hell everlasting!"
She raved on like that for some moments, abusing John in language even her husband could not have improved upon, at last turned back to face him, said tautly, "What mean you to do now, Will?"
De Braose looked away, stared into space over her head. "There is a ship sailing at dawn for Barfleur. For the right sum, the captain will smuggle me on board."
"You mean to flee to France? To abandon me and your children to John? Jesus wept, Will!" There was so much shock in her voice that he flushed, lashed out savagely.
"I did what I could for you, more than you deserve, for none of this would have happened if not for you! What would it serve to share the same dungeon? I
cannot help you, Maude, can only save myself now. And I'm damned if I'll feel guilty about it!"
Her mouth twisted. "Do you want to tell our grandsons that, or shall I?" she jeered, and he almost hit her. Unclenching his fist, he swung away from her, toward the door.
"I suppose I should wish you luck! It will not be easy, you know; I daresay
John has you under close surveillance. It'll be a miracle if you even make it to the wharves."
He paused, hand on the door latch. "You still do not see, do you, Maude? It was not me John wanted. It was you. It has been you from the beginning, from the day you opened your damned fool mouth and doomed us all."

^7
ABER, NORTH WALES
May 1211
VATHERINE was being escorted across the bailey toward Joanna's chamber when she heard the screams, screams of such total terror that she gathered up her skirts, began to run. In the antechamber
Branwen was retching into a water bucket, with Alison hovering helplessly nearby. The screams were abruptly choked off as Catherine reached for the door latch. Within the chamber, Llewelyn was braced against a high-backed chair, while Joanna knelt beside him, trying frantically to comfort the screaming child he held upon his lap. As Catherine watched, sickened, Llewelyn's barber straightened up, holding a pair of pincers and a small bloody tooth.
Elen writhed against Llewelyn's restraining hold, let out a high, keening wail of pain, fright, and outrage. Almost from the time she could walk, she'd shown a decided preference for her father, but now it was for Mama that she sobbed, and Joanna gathered her into a close embrace.
Elen's face was beet-red, her eyes swollen, her bodice stained with saliva and blood and vomit, but her parents looked no less stricken. As Joanna crooned to the weeping child, oblivious to the blood smearing her own clothing, Llewelyn rose, poured himself a full cup of mead with a hand that shook.
"Christ, Catrin," he said softly, "I do not think I could go through that again for the very surety of my soul."
Catherine understood exactly how he felt; a child of hers had once been subjected to the same ordeal. "You tried cloves, bettony?" s"e asked, and he nodded wearily.
"Every remedy we could think of, and then Joanna lit candles to y
Apollonia, but to no avail." Elen's screams had yet to abate; he read bed

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ut stroked the heaving little shoulder, and then retreated, leaving Jonna to minister to their daughter's pain
It was a long time before Elen quieted, even longer before she slept Toanna slumped down upon a coffer, already dreading the moment vvhen Elen would awake, when her suffering would begin again "I do n0t know when I've ever been so tired, Catherine "
She did look utterly exhausted, and Catherine felt a throb of pity, for she knew how bad a year it had been for Joanna A bad year for them all but above all for Joanna, who loved both John and Llewelyn, who was caught between anguished, irreconcilable loyalties
Soon after William de Braose's flight to France, the Earl of Chester and the
Bishop of Winchester had led an army into Gwynedd, advancmg as far as the east bank of the River Conwy, where Chester rebuilt Deganwy Castle, which Llewelyn had razed in a futile attempt to keep it out of Norman control At about the same time, John released Gwenwynwyn from his two-year confinement, giving him money and menat-arms to mount a challenge to Llewelyn's hold upon his domains
Llewelyn thus found himself fighting a war on two fronts, and by December he'd been forced to withdraw from most of southern Powys But he struck back hard at
Chester, making raids of reprisal into Cheshire, burning the Earl's manors and running off his livestock Christmas that year had seen smoke-filled skies on both sides of the border, and Joanna, then in the second month of a stressful pregnancy, had miscarried on Epiphany Eve
With Easter, a fragile, false peace settled over the Marches All knew it would not last Chester's men were still entrenched m Deganwy, and Llewelyn would never accept an alien presence on Welsh soil Gwenwynwyn was now back in power in Powys, with a blood score to settle And John had spent the spring forging alliances of expediency with Maelgwn and Rhys Gryg What should have been a season of rebirth and renewal was now no more than a time of uneasy waiting, was to be but a brief prelude to a summer of war
"Joanna how is it between Llewelyn and you these days7 Are YOU getting on better7"
"Yes, we are," Joanna said, then gave Catherine a sad smile "But 'hat is because he has been so often gone from Aber this spring "
"You argue about John, about your father7" Catherine asked tentahvely, and
Joanna nodded
In the past year her life with Llewelyn had fallen into a disquieting Pattern sudden, sharp quarrels during the daylight hours, later reconC1'ed m bed "I
love him, Catherine, and I believe he still loves me

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But. . . but we find little to laugh about these days, and I remember how we used to laugh together all the time ..."
She rose, reassured herself that Elen still slept, and then turned back to
Catherine. "When all began to go sour between my father and Llewelyn, I blamed
Llewelyn for much of it, Catherine. I kept thinking if only he'd try harder to earn Papa's trust, if only he were not so set upon having his own way, so prideful. . . But then my father sent the Earl of Chester into Gwynedd, gave
Gwenwynwyn the means of making war upon Llewelyn. Oh, God, Catherine, how could he? However angry he was with Llewelyn, did he never think of me? For my sake, could he not have found another wayr
JOANNA was alone in their bedchamber, waiting for Llewelyn. Branwen had unbraided her hair, and she reached for the silver-backed brush Llewelyn had given her just four days ago, on their fifth wedding anniversary. As she did, her eyes fell upon a small crystalline stone, mottled with bronze streaks.
Picking up the jasper pebble, she fingered it pensively. The stone was no talisman, was a goad to memories she'd rather not recall, memories of her
January miscarriage.
But brake-root was not any more effective than jasper as a contraceptive.
Isabelle had become pregnant within days of their confidential conversation at
Woodstock, had given birth to a daughter while John was pursuing Maude de
Braose in Ireland. That, too, was a memory Joanna preferred not to dwell upon, for she'd had an utterly unexpected reaction to the birth of her half-sister.
She'd never realized how much it mattered to herbeing John's only daughter amongst eight sonsnot until it was no longer true, until Isabelle had given
John a fair-haired baby girl and he'd given her Joanna's own name.
It was a common if confusing Norman custom to have legitimate and baseborn children share the same name; John had twice christened sons Henry and
Richard. But Joanna could not keep from reading a superstitious significance into John's choice of names, could not keep from being hurt by that choice.
She'd had ten months to accustom herself to the loss of her privileged status, no longer felt jealous of the baby sister she'd yet to see. But she had not heard from her father for months, not since that past autumn, and on this warm night in mid-May, she felt forlorn and forgotten and very much afraid of what the future might hold.
Suddenly sensing she was no longer alone, she looked up, saw Llewelyn standing in the doorway. "I did not hear you come in. Have you been there long?" She gave him a self-conscious smile, for she did not like to be watched unaware.
"I finally had to give Elen a mild sleeping

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draught/ the pain was soLlewelyn7 Llewelyn, what is wrong7 What has happened7"
"What was bound to happen Your father is gathering a large army at Chester "
She came to her feet with a choked cry, and he said bitterly, "You cannot be all that surprised It has been obvious for months that John vvanted war " But even as he spoke, he saw that her shock was unfeigned, that she'd somehow managed to convince herself the inevitable could be defeated merely by refusing to acknowledge it
"No, it must not come to that, it must not1 Llewelyn, please, you must act whilst there still be time Go to my father, seek his pardon Oh, please, I beg you'"
"Seek his pardon7" he echoed, incredulous "For what, putting him to the inconvenience of an invasion7" He swung about, too angry to risk remaining, but she was already at his side, clutching frantically at his arm
"No, you do not understand1 I'm not saying Papa is right He's not, he's not1
But there cannot be war between you When I think of you and Papa facing one another across a battlefield, I Llewelyn, please, please do not let it come to that1"
"Joanna Joanna, I cannot he to you, cannot pretend this is just one more border skirmish John wants as much of Gwynedd as he can conquer, wants my head on a pike "
"No, Llewelyn, no He'd not go as far as that, not if he loves me And he does, he"
"I know you love him, Joanna, but do not defend him Not tonight, not to me "
She stared at him, her eyes slowly filling with tears "My God, Llewelyn, what are we going to do7"
He reached out, traced a tear's path with his thumb, brushing it away before it could reach her mouth "I do not know if it will comfort you any, Joanna, but you need not fear a battlefield confrontation I have no intention of taking the field against John "
She drew an audible breath, and her hand tightened upon his arm °h, my love, my love, thank you1"
Although the temptation to he to her was overwhelming, he shook
18 "ead "I do not do it for you, Joanna John can call upon all the
^sources of the English crown, has the support, as well, of most of the elsh Princes He can put ten, twenty times as many men under arms ever could I'd have to be out of my wits to engage him on the field JL °pen baftle " Llewelyn paused "And if he thinks I'm that big a fool, my pride will utterly vanquish my common sense, he's made the latest mistake of his life"
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