Here Be Dragons - 1 (70 page)

death. I'd have shown greater charity to a stranger on the roadside. I offered my condolences with lethal courtesy. I said I could not come to his Christmas court. And then I told him that if he truly loved me, he would prove it by releasing your hostages."
"Ah, Joanna ..." Llewelyn had never hated John so much as at that moment, had never felt such utterly futile, frustrated anger. "God damn him," he said savagely. "Damn him forever and aye!"
"I think he is damned," Joanna whispered, "and . . . and if only I did not care! But I do, Llewelyn. I hated myself for writing that letter. And unfairly, unforgivably, I began to blame you."
She could feel tears burning behind her lashes, but she blinked 'hem back.
"Llewelyn, I swear I did not lie to you that day at the White ^dies Priory. I
truly thought I could do what I promised you, that I ouid cut him out of my heart. You were right and I was wrong; I can nev« fully forget that lost little girl at Rouen Castle."
"I know."
' cannot forgive him, Llewelyn. I cannot forget those children he ^"fdered at
Nottingham Castle. Until the day I die, there will be nights < n Maude de
Braose and a seven-year-old boy steal away my sleep. VQ ,^et and yet I
still cannot be indifferent to his pain. Not even for ewelyn felt no surprise, only a sense of weary wonderment that it

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had taken them so long to face the truth. She'd never be free of John. \n a strange sort of way, she was as much John's prisoner as that poor lass Eleanor of Brittany. Had he truly thought he could break that bond?
"Llewelyn? Llewelyn, talk to me. Tell me you understand, that you're not angry with me. Tell me what you're thinking . . ."
"I was thinking," he said, "that there's much to be said for marrying an orphan," and Joanna gave a shaken laugh, not far removed from a sob.
"I was afraid," she confessed, "so afraid you'd say that I'd broken my word, that you'd tell me again what you said at the priory, that you did not think you could love John's daughter."
"You were not the only one lying to yourself that afternoon, breila." He brushed her hair back from her face, breathed in the faint fragrance of lemon, the sandalwood scent of her perfume.
"Not that it's always easy loving you." His smile was at once tender and wry.
"Welsh and Norman make for a spicy stew. And John casts a long shadow. I've never felt as close to any woman as I do to you, but I know that for all we share, there will always be secrets between us, drawbridges we dare not lower, because you are John's daughter."
Sliding his arm around her waist, he drew her into a closer embrace. "Yet I
know, too, that I might not be alive right now if you were not John's daughter. He had me well and truly trapped when you came to him at Aberconwy.
And still he offered a trucebecause you asked it of him."
That was not a memory Joanna wanted to dwell upon. She did not doubt that her father loved her. It was a millstone around her neck, one that scraped her conscience raw.
"No more talk of John," she entreated. "Let's talk rather of our Norman-Welsh melange. You like your food both sweet and sour; why not your woman?" Reaching up, she kissed him upon the mouth, a kiss at first soft and then seeking.
"It's not always easy loving you, either. But it's worth the effort, my lord husband, well worth the effort." She made a protective sign of the cross over his heart, began to track with gentle fingers the scars of old wounds. "In truth, I'd lower my drawbridge for you any time," she murmured, and Llewelyn grinned.
"Scriptures talk of Heaven's gate, but for now I'd gladly settle for yours.
Alas," he laughed, bringing her hand down, catching it between his thighs, "as you can see, if I were a flag, I'd be at half-mast."
Joanna laughed, too, slid lower in the bed. "I'd wager that c raise a flag even faster than I can lower a drawbridge," she said, was not long in making good her boast. This time their lovemaking none of its earlier urgency; it was leisurely, playful, and curiously forting in its very lack of intensity.

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Joanna was drifting toward sleep, she stirred reluctantly as Llewelyn sat up, threw the coverlets back "Can we not stay abed a while longer7"
"No, my lazy love, we cannot I hear appeals from the commote courts this forenoon, afterward meet with my council " In council they would discuss an offer of alliance made by the rebel barons of England, discuss the resumption of war against his wife's father Llewelyn pushed that thought from him "A pity
I cannot go riding this day, I should've liked to make use of my new saddle "
Joanna sat upright "What saddle7"
"The saddle with ivory pommel and cantle, a silver girth buckle The saddle over in yon corner, covered with a blanket "
"You wretch, that was to be your New Year's gift1" Joanna grabbed for a pillow
Llewelyn was laughing too much to defend himself, and she was able to deliver several blows before he could pin her down against the mattress
"My lord, my lady, I'm so sorry1" Branwen was standing in the doorway, looking so flustered that Llewelyn and Joanna could not help laughing But their laughter stilled abruptly at sight of the man standing behind Branwen, for he wore the colors of the English King
Branwen was still blushing "I did knock, in truth," she said faintly, stepping aside so the courier could enter
Kneeling, he held out a sealed parchment As Llewelyn reached for it, he said hesitantly, "It it is not for you, my lord, but for your lady "
Llewelyn glanced toward Joanna She'd lost color, made no move to take John's letter After a moment, Llewelyn claimed it, laid it on the bed beside her
"Are you not going to read it7"
Joanna shook her head She rolled over, clutched the pillow to her breast She heard the door shut, heard one of Llewelyn's wolfhounds whimpering for admittance She closed her eyes What more did he want of her? Why would he not let her be?
Joanna, I think you ought to read it He must have answered you within a day of getting your letter That speaks of urgency, breila "
I cannot I know that sounds foolish, but in truth I cannot You read it for me, Llewelyn please "
She felt his hand touch her hair, and then he said, "As you wish," br°ke the seal g,... as he scanned the first line, "To my beloved daughter Joanna, Lady re H 8reetmgs," Llewelyn was suddenly reluctant to read further, to a letter never meant for his eyes "Joanna lease," she said, surreptitiously drying her tears against the pil-

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low, not wanting him to know that she could be so unnerved just by th sight of
John's handwriting.
Llewelyn was staring down at John's letter; he'd had to read it tvvic before he could banish disbelief. "Jesus God," he breathed, and there was in the look he now gave his wife no small measure of awe. "He's agreed to your request, Joanna. He's agreed to release my hostages."
"He did that ... for me?" Joanna gasped, grabbed for the letter John's words soon blurred; the writing wavered, bled black ink wherever her tears touched the page. Looking up at last, she said softly, "BU( not Gruffydd."
She put her hand on his, half fearful he might pull away. He did not move; he was staring past her, dark eyes blind to the morning sunlight the familiar furnishings of the chamber. For four Welsh families this would be a Christmas never to be forgotten, a time to give fervent thanks for the manifold mercies of God. Their sons would be coming home.
But his son would not. Gruffydd would pass yet another Christmas in an English castle, his fourth as a prisoner. Shut away from the sun and sky, how long could a wild, free spirit survive? How long could he live on hope? How long ere he began to look upon death as a friend, as deliverance?
36
RHOSYR, NORTH WALES
March 1215
ON January 6, 1215, Eustace de Vesci, Rob«j Fitz Walter, and the more recalcitrant of the English barons came arrne to John's council in London, where they demanded that John con their traditional liberties, as embodied in the ancient laws of Edwar ^ Confessor and the charter of Henry I. John played for time, refusin^ give them his answer until Low Sunday, April 26, and the barons tantly agreed to wait. John at once dispatched a trusted agent to

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tace de Vesci followed soon after, for the barons, too, understood t how critical the Pope's support would be Both sides then began to Ppareforwar
ANNA leaned over her daughter's bed Elen turned her face into the jllow, mumbled, "Nos da, Mam "
Joanna hesitated, but decided it was best to allow Elen her aggrieved sense of injury, Elen was seven, old enough for pride "I bid you od night, too, dearest," she said gently, and then crossed the chamber to her son
Davydd was wide awake, primed with questions to forestall bedtime "Tell me why
Papa has gone, Mama " His French was flawless, but Joanna knew that Welsh came more readily to his tongue, that Welsh formed his thoughts, and that realization had been a surprisingly unsettling one for her, as if a barrier had somehow been erected, leaving her on one side and her children on the other
"Your father and the other Welsh Princes have gone to Rhyd y Groes to meet with the new Bishop of Chester and Coventry, who brings an offer of alliance from the English King "
The English King But what else could she say7 Your grandfather7 When not a day passed that Davydd did not hear John vilified as a child-slayer, as Herod7
Davydd was so young, how could she expect a six-year-old to understand what she herself could not at twentythree7 Was it not better to wait until he was older, until he began to ask questions7 Mayhap by then she'd have some answers for him Joanna reached out, playfully rumpled Davydd's dark hair, and hoped she was being honest with herself, that she was truly thinking of Davydd and
Elen's pain and not her own
Llewelyn returned that same night, shortly after Compline As glad as Joanna was to see him, she was not eager to hear what he had to say, 50 sure was she that he'd spurned her father's olive branch She delayed e 'nevitable with feigned cheer, with an animated account of all that
« happened in his absence, and while he ate sparingly of smoked wring and rice, she told him that his Seneschal was still ailing, that nyved's wife had given birth to a daughter, and Elen had fallen from a trpp U i c^ knocking out a tooth
L|e Lucklly it was one of her baby teeth But I felt I had to punish her, bu], e ^n' 'f only to keep her from breaking her neck, and now she's sjOQ, & Joanna smiled ruefully "I can always tell when I'm not in her graces, she'll talk to me only in Welsh'"
ii0nt, ewe'yn laughed, pushed his trencher aside, they were less than a lr|to
Lent, and already he was heartily sick of fish, yearning for

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forbidden foods: butter, milk, cheese, eggs, and, above all, meat, "\-n warn
Elen that tree-climbing is one of the Seven Deadly Sins." Rjsjn from the table, he moved toward Joanna. "We need not talk about it breila."
"How well you know me. But no, I was being childish. Tell me what happened.
What did my father offer for your support against the northern barons?"
"Everything but eternal life everlasting. As always, John is profligate with his promises." Llewelyn turned back to the table, picked up a dried fig. "But you'll not believe what John's new Bishop told us. It seems that John is of a sudden afire with crusading fever, and on March fourth, he took the cross!"
Joanna stared at him, openmouthed. "My father?" But after a startled moment to reflect, she realized how clever a stratagem that was, and said so.
"More than clever, Joanna. To give the Devil his due, it verges upon brilliance. Whatever else John lacks, it's not imagination. Nothing could be better calculated to win the Pope's goodwill; Innocent has been striving for fifteen years to prod Philip and John into another holy war against the
Saracens."
"I know," Joanna said, and for an unguarded moment there was in her voice the echoes of indulgent affection, of the love she'd once given to John in such free and abundant measure. "I remember the Pope's letters, but my father never found the prospect of dying for the Holy Land all that alluring!"
"Well, he's now seen the light ... at a most opportune time, in truth. Since a crusader's person and possessions are inviolate, that puts his foes at a distinct disadvantagethe most Christian King and the infidel barons. De Vesci would have done better to bypass Rome, to spend these weeks fortifying his castle at Alnwick. For as long as John talks of Jerusalem, the Pope will buy whatever he has to sell."
It was a cynical assessment, but Joanna could find no fault with it "What of
Gruffydd? Did my father offer to release him?"
"Of course . . . after I help him prevail over the rebels."
"And . . . and you do not believe he would keep his word?"
"Do you, Joanna?"
"I do not know." Joanna averted her gaze. "Mayhap he might/ s ventured, and
Llewelyn's eyes narrowed. , "I see. Do you also believe that unicorns can only be caugn , virgins? Do you believe, too, that the barnacle goose is spawned in sea like a fish and may be eaten during Lent?" ,t'S
"Llewelyn, stop! You asked me what I believed, and I told y°u-
ot fair to blame me because you did not like my answer. Would you rather I'd lied to you?"
A moment passed, and then another, before Llewelyn was able to urnmon up a taut smile. "How do you expect us to get a satisfactory argument going if you fall back upon logic?"
He stepped closer, let his hands rest upon her shoulders. "I know you want to believe that John would keep faith, set Gruffydd free. I would to God I could believe it, too, Joanna. But I know better. John promises gold and delivers dross. He'll never let Gruffydd go, never. Not unless he's forced to it."
Joanna said nothing. Llewelyn's way was not hers. She'd have bargained all that Heaven held, would never have risked the war that brought about twenty-eight deaths at Nottingham Castle. But Gwynedd was not her homeland, and Gruffydd was not her son.
"Joanna . . . there is something else I must tell you. William de Cornhill was
John's sworn man long ere he was made Bishop of Coventry and Chester. He spoke for John, at John's bidding, offered to free Rhys Gryg, to buy our swords and let the dead bury their dead. But he warned, too, what we might expect should we make of John an enemy and not an ally. He was quite blunt, said that if I

joined with the rebel barons, I would be excommunicated."
Joanna gasped. "And you'd risk even that?" She knew that her father had not been greatly troubled by his own sentence of excommunication. But she knew, too, that Llewelyn's faith was not as tenuous as John's. "Llewelyn, beloved, think what you do. When you ride into battle, you'll be offering up more than your life. You'll be offering up your soul."
"I do not believe that, Joanna."
"But to be excommunicated is to be cast into darkness, eternal damnation"
"For the sin of not supporting John? In my eyes, that is no sin, Joanna, and nothing the Bishop of Chester or the Pope says can convince me otherwise. Am I
to believe that John Plantagenet is now the Jointed of the Lord, the chosen of
God? Not my God."
While Joanna shared Llewelyn's sense of outrage, she could not ept the comforting dichotomy he'd drawn between the stringent
Cachings of their Church and the infinite mercy of the Almighty. She fo u 'n *^e f°Pe's power to damn her husband, however unjustly, i e was not like Llewelyn, not a rebel, and in despair she wondered
,, e d find the strength to endure what lay ahead.
80 it will be war," she said softly. "War yet again."