Here Be Dragons - 1 (87 page)

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"Henry/ there is nothing I can do "
"[ do not want war with the Welsh, you must know I do not But I
choice, Joanna Cardigan and Carmarthen have too much strate-
^3 portance to leave them in the hands of a Welsh Prince Surely you
?« see that "
"Yes of course I can Why should a Welsh Prince have any right to t]es on Welsh soil?"
Henry had vivid blue eyes, a drooping left eyelid that gave him a wsv appealmgly vulnerable look But both eyes opened wide now, h vved so much hurt that Joanna was at once remorseful
"I am sorry, Henry I do love you," she said softly "But I love my husband, too, and I am so very tired of always having to choose
Henry watched as she moved away, back to Llewelyn When Hubert de Burgh joined him, he said, "I never meant to hurt my sister, Hubert I was so sure I could make her understand You said she would "
"It cannot be helped, my liege It is no easy thing to be a King, to tind the courage to make difficult decisions You must be strong, lad, must"
"I am1" Henry cried, stung "I'll do what must be done But that does not mean I
have to like it "
GWENWYNWYN'S two young sons had been living in England as wards of the crown
On the same day that Llewelyn rode away from Ludlow, Henry ordered the boys to be brought to his court at Gloucester in hopes of winning away from Llewelyn the allegiance of the men of Powys He then sent the Earls of Pembroke and
Salisbury into Wales
While Llewelyn sought to cut off their supply lines, Gruffydd sprang a lethal ambush in a hilly pass of Carnwylhon But Pembroke and "I were able to fight their way free, began to lay waste to the counfrvside of Dyfed Once more, Wales was at war a[rELYN S Slege °f BuelU CaStIe WaS m lts second week The Welsh had Waj.S ^en able to cross the deep wet moat, to breach the outer curtain

lad?
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actually fear masqueradinnifcding as fury, and he said, still laboring -*- ~g for breath
"Let it lie, Gruffydd"
"Christ, Papa, he coujo~ould have killed you! What if he'd mis^aassed, if he'H
hit you instead?"
Llewelyn preferred b?d not to dwell upon that. "What's y3^ your name lad?"
The bowman swallooJUllowed. "Trefor, my lord," he mumblsMloled. "Trefor ab Alun."
"You're a good shot ionot, Trefor. I'll remember."
Trefor beamed, but Jjjut dared not linger. Gruffydd's anger ca - counted for more at that moment thsrfJthan Llewelyn's approval, and he hurri_rwied to rejoin his comrades.
Ednyved picked up qi-ap the broken sword, flung it out into tH± the moat. "It seems to me, Llewelyn,,nvn, that you're the one who needs the eg nursemaid not your Davydd1"
Llewelyn's smile v s was wry, faintly discomfited. "I s~e should have known better," he admi/rumitted. "But it did prove one thing, thai^^at I was right about these Norman ha srfhauberks. Without it, I'd have been ske=_o.ewered like a stuck pig."
"Papa . . ." Davyoy^ydd was standing several feet away. ~ He'd lost all color, was so shaken t m that Llewelyn knew at once he'd \vwitnessed the fight.
As Llewelyn climbfmnbed down the scaling ladder, he bega_ =.esn to appreciate the extent of his inni injuries; his muscles were already exr^=»ppHingly sore and tender. But he knerrznew how very lucky he had been, and _ as soon as he and Davydd were stanexanding on firm ground, he said, "I'm 53 glad you saw that, lad. I hope to GoD God you remember, for it might save - your life one day. I did something grig very foolish up there. I saw a man r~\ lying on the wall, just took it for g -r granted that he'd been killed in the n morning's assault. But on the battMrt*ttlefield you can take nothing for gran. /ited, Davydd, nothing. Careless meie/nen do not make old bones, lad."
"I was so scared b d for you, Papa. Were . . . were you sc.^5~ared, too?
Llewelyn turned bsd, looked into the hazel eyes upturr*_med to his, Joanna's eyes. "Not wlw "whilst we were fighting, Davydd. Yov-r^rn do not have time to be afraid dunu uring a battle, are too busy trying to ^s stay alive. DU
afterward, when youwoou think about it, about all the loathsorrrme ways ther*
are to die, I suspect n 11 most men feel fear. I have, for certes. . ." , Davydd no long«griger met his eyes. "I've heard men say that Grutty knows no fear" y
"Do not measuni/iare yourself against Gruffydd, lad. I ct-*_rriose you as .
heir because I saw in v in you qualities of leadership." Llew^^-elyn hesi a ^
for it was not easy t.j v to say. "I did not find those qualities - in Grut y

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trust you not to repeat that to anyone else But I trust you, t member it "
"Llewelyn1" Ednyved was leaning over the wall embras Braose wants to talk, says he'll send his son out if you'll wa safety "
"Agreed " Llewelyn looked at Davydd and then grinned I'll even invite him to dinner'"
THE tents of English kings were opulent, even sumptuous, , enough for privacy as well as comfort Llewelyn s tent was of modest scale, for even if he'd had the resources to indulge hirr Welshman could have respected a commander who went to ^ feather mattresses and silver plate Llewelyn contented himsel]
pallet, and when dinner was served, he and his guests sat in a c the ground, just as his men did around their campfires
If Will de Braose thought Llewelyn's accommodations spa did not show in his face The Marcher lords tended to be a hard\ robust and tough-minded as the
Welsh they fought and befriend< Will ate with gusto, even knowing that he was being served on< own beef cows As much as it irked Gruffydd to hear Normans i his tongue, it offended him even more to hear one speak such Welsh, and he was hard-pressed to manage even a semblance liteness He would never understand how his father could bring ^ to eat and drink with their enemies, never
' It scarcely seems fair to repay your hospitality with what 1 r, tell you now
" Will reached for another piece of bread "But my and I thought you had a right to know Your daughter Gwladys is i *e castle "
There was a moment's silence Then Llewelyn laughed den ar|d Gruffydd spat, "Liar1"
My son speaks bluntly, but true which is more than you d you think I'd besiege
Buellt without first making sure of my daugi Hereabouts, her safety? Gwladys is many miles to the north a CourtontheisleofM6n "
Will did not seem at all abashed He shrugged, said with an ( fcntant grin, "Well, you cannot blame a man for trying, can you? f Llewelyn shifted his position with unwonted care, neither mi n n°r a lanolin ointment had done much to ease his discomfort } I e here lest you had an offer to make What is it7"
Seven hundred head of cattle if you ride away on the morrow hat was a fair offer But there was more to consider than pr

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actually fear masquerading as fury, and he said, still laboring for breath
"Let it lie, Gruffydd."
"Christ, Papa, he could have killed you! What if he'd missed, if he'd hit you instead?"
Llewelyn preferred not to dwell upon that. "What's your name lad?"
The bowman swallowed. "Trefor, my lord," he mumbled. "Trefor ab Alun."
"You're a good shot, Trefor. I'll remember."
Trefor beamed, but dared not linger. Gruffydd's anger counted for more at that moment than Llewelyn's approval, and he hurried to rejoin his comrades.
Ednyved picked up the broken sword, flung it out into the moat. "It seems to me, Llewelyn, that you're the one who needs the nursemaid, not your Davydd!"
Llewelyn's smile was wry, faintly discomfited. "I should have known better,"
he admitted. "But it did prove one thing, that I was right about these Norman hauberks. Without it, I'd have been skewered like a stuck pig."
"Papa . . ." Davydd was standing several feet away. He'd lost all color, was so shaken that Llewelyn knew at once he'd witnessed the fight.
As Llewelyn climbed down the scaling ladder, he began to appreciate the extent of his injuries; his muscles were already exceedingly sore and tender. But he knew how very lucky he had been, and as soon as he and Davydd were standing on firm ground, he said, "I'm glad you saw that, lad. I hope to God you remember, for it might save your life one day. I did something very foolish up there. I
saw a man lying on the wall, just took it for granted that he'd been killed in the morning's assault. But on the battlefield you can take nothing for granted, Davydd, nothing. Careless men do not make old bones, lad."
"I was so scared for you, Papa. Were . . . were you scared, too?" Llewelyn turned, looked into the hazel eyes upturned to his, Joanna's eyes. "Not whilst we were fighting, Davydd. You do not have time to be afraid during a battle, are too busy trying to stay alive. But afterward, when you think about it, about all the loathsome ways there are to die, I suspect most men feel fear. I
have, for certes."
Davydd no longer met his eyes. "I've heard men say that Gruffyd knows no fear."
"Do not measure yourself against Gruffydd, lad. I chose you as ni heir because
I saw in you qualities of leadership." Llewelyn hesita^ > for it was not easy to say. "I did not find those qualities in Gruffy0

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trust you not to repeat that to anyone else But I trust you, too, to remember it "
"Llewelyn1" Ednyved was leaning over the wall embrasure "De graose wants to talk, says he'll send his son out if you'll warrant his safety "
"Agreed " Llewelyn looked at Davydd and then grinned "Tell him I'll even invite him to dinner1"
THE tents of English kings were opulent, even sumptuous, spacious enough for privacy as well as comfort Llewelyn's tent was of a more modest scale, for even if he'd had the resources to indulge himself, no Welshman could have respected a commander who went to war with feather mattresses and silver plate
Llewelyn contented himself with a pallet, and when dinner was served, he and his guests sat in a circle on the ground, just as his men did around their campfires
If Will de Braose thought Llewelyn's accommodations spartan, it did not show in his face The Marcher lords tended to be a hardy lot, as robust and tough-minded as the Welsh they fought and befriended, and Will ate with gusto, even knowing that he was being served one of his own beef cows As much as it irked Gruffydd to hear Normans pervert his tongue, it offended him even more to hear one speak such fluent Welsh, and he was hard-pressed to manage even a semblance of politeness He would never understand how his father could bnng himself to eat and drink with their enemies, never
"It scarcely seems fair to repay your hospitality with what I have to Ml you now " Will reached for another piece of bread "But my father and I thought you had a right to know Your daughter Gwladys is within the castle "
There was a moment's silence Then Llewelyn laughed derisively and Gruffydd spat, "Liar1"
"My son speaks bluntly, but true which is more than you do Do you think I'd besiege Buellt without first making sure of my daughter's whereabouts, her safety7 Gwladys is many miles to the north, at my c°urt on the isle of Mon "
Will did not seem at all abashed He shrugged, said with an unrePentant grin, "Well, you cannot blame a man for trying, can you7"
Llewelyn shifted his position with unwonted care, neither mutton at nor a lanolin ointment had done much to ease his discomfort "You'd °t be here lest you had an offer to make What is it7"
'Seven hundred head of cattle if you ride away on the morrow "
That was a fair offer But there was more to consider than profit,

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w
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more at stake than cattle. "I'll think about it," Llewelyn said noncommittally. He'd noticed that Will kept glancing over at Davydd, had noticed, too, that it was making the boy uncomfortable. "You do know my son
Davydd?" he said pointedly, but Will did not take up the challenge.
"I suppose I was staring," he conceded calmly. "It's just that he looks so much like his mother. It's not often a blood kinship shows so plainly as that."
Gruffydd set down his wineskin. "I always thought Davydd looked verily like John, God rot him."
Will's eyes cut toward Gruffydd. "I'll drink to that, to John, King of
England . . . and of Hell."
Even in the subdued lantern light, Llewelyn could see the color rising in
Davydd's face. It did not surprise him; if Joanna at thirty-two could not resolve her relationship with John, how could Davydd at fourteen? For his son's sake, he acted to end the conversation. "I'll give you my answer on the morrow."
But Will did not move. "You must have hated John even as much as I did. Christ knows, he gave you reason enough!"
Llewelyn looked over at Davydd, then nodded slowly. "Yes, I hated
John."
Will leaned forward. "Then . . . then how could you live in contentment with
John's daughter?"
Llewelyn was astonished. But as he studied Will's face, he saw that the younger man had not meant to offend. His grey eyes held Llewelyn's own; he seemed truly to want to know. Llewelyn had no intention, however, of answering a question so intensely personal. "I fail to see," he said coolly, "how my marriage is of concern to you."
Will's eyes flickered; he was the first to look away. "You're right, of course. It is not my concern. If my curiosity has led me astray, I apologize."
His smile was self-mocking. "If there is one thing we de Braoses pride ourselves upon, it is that we never offer an unintentional insult!
Llewelyn was not taken in by Will's nonchalant disclaimer. He did not know
Reginald's son well at all, but one thing he did not doubt, that the mere mention of John had touched a very raw nerve indeed. It was Davydd who told
Will what he wanted to know. Davydd could not bear to have his mother associated in any way with the cruelties of the tn glish King, and he said abruptly, "My lady mother and King John were estranged for the last four years of his life."
Gruffydd opened his mouth, but for once discretion prevailed, welyn had risen, and this time Will took the cue and rose, too. J were exchanging ironic courtesies when one of Llewelyn's men du under the tent flap. )
>.
"My lord, one of our scouts has just ridden in, says it is urgent that he speak with you."
The man was unshaven, begrimed, had obviously passed a full day jn the saddle.
He knelt before Llewelyn, but wasted no further time on protocol. "My lord, I
bear evil tidings. The English King and the Justiciar marched out of Hereford at dawn this morn, heading toward the Gwy Valleytoward Buellt."
"How large an army?"
"Too large, my lord. Mayhap twice the size of ours."
Llewelyn turned aside. He heard Gruffydd cursing softly, damning the English to a particularly vile quarter of Hell; rarely had his son's sentiments so perfectly mirrored his own. It was at that moment that VVill de Braose did something as provocative as it was impolitic. He laughed.
He at once regretted it, found himself the focus of icily measuring eyes. His hand dropped instinctively to his sword hilt, but he put greater faith in his