The Reckoning - 3 (45 page)

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The death of Edward's Saracen foe meant little to the Welsh, b they politely chimed in when the English congratulated their King, gj ward had begun to laugh again. "Nay, it is not his death that I fin

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ducts, too, requesting them from the Earls of Gloucester, Surrey, . rfolk, and Lincoln, my lord de Mortimer, the Archbishop of Canter-
and the Bishop of Worcesteramongst others. Even taking into count the suspicious nature of the Welsh, that seemed rather exces-
. and rather insulting, for you neglected to seek a safe-conduct from me A man might well conclude that you thought a royal safe-conduct uld be worthless. Tell me, my lord, was that indeed what you did think?"
Llewelyn reached for his wine cup and drank, seeking to gain time.
VVas this the moment when the trap was sprung? Was Edward daring jum to admit the truth, that there was no coin of the realm as false as the King's sworn word? Or did Edward truly see himself as a man of honor? The de Montfort partisans had given him an insulting epithet Pardclaiming that, like the leopard, he changed his spots at whim. But he had chosen "Keep troth" as his motto. Was it done in irony? Llewelyn thought not.
As his silence stretched out, suspense began to build. Tudur stirred uneasily, unable to see how Llewelyn could give an honest answer without offering the
English King a deadly insult. He was contemplating a desperate gambit, distracting Edward by answering the question himself, in terms Edward would never forgive, when Llewelyn set his wine cup down, leaned across the table.
"I do find it difficult to trust the English Crown," he said, with a candor
Edward had not expected. He stiffened, seemed about to interrapt. But Llewelyn gave him no chance. "When my father was being held at Cricieth Castle by his half-brother, my lady mother sought help from the English monarch. King Henry agreed, promised that he would be freed, and on the strength of that promise, many Welshmen joined in his war against Davydd ap Llewelyn. Davydd was defeated, but King Henry did not keep faith. Instead, he sent my father and my brother Owain to the Tower. I know you are aware of this history, my liege.
But I lived it, and it left scars, like the dagger of Sultan Baibars's
Assassin."
Edward did not respond immediately, nor was his face easy to read. ut Tudur slumped back in his chair, too relieved to care about hiding '*' sure that
Llewelyn had managed the impossible, satisfying Edward whUe not being false to himself.
"Yes," Edward said at last, "we are all our fathers' sons." Another *nce fell.
Edward kept his gaze upon Llewelyn. "I think," he said, at we do understand each other. It is my hope that this treaty will k a turning point in the history of our two lands. Now . . . now I ,,ant to discuss payment of that fifty thousand pounds. I've been told that you would find it very difficult to satisfy this debt. Is that true?"

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The death of Edward's Saracen foe meant little to the VV 1 v, they politely chimed in when the English congratulated their Ki ^ ward had begun to laugh again. "Nay, it is not his death that I ff ^" pleasing, although it was right welcome, of course. He was an e '1 I still bear the scars from his
Assassin's dagger. But he has reaped "^ he had sown, for God is not mocked."
^t
Llewelyn felt a flicker of interest. "Was he murdered, then'"
"Better, far better! He'd prepared a poisoned goblet, one meant a man he would murder. Instead, by mischance only the Almighty i* have contrived, he drank from it himself!"
There was an astonished silence, and then a burst of awed laught It was, they all agreed, almost too perfect, a jest to amuse both God and the Devil, justice at once divine and diabolic.
"So shall all my enemies be vanquished," Edward said, reachin for a wafer.
"Now then, my lord Llewelyn, shall we resume? I believ you had a question ere
I was called away?"
"Yes, Your Grace, I do have a query," Llewelyn said, although he'd already guessed what the answer would be. "I wondered why you asked only that I swear fealty to you this forenoon, and not homage, as well."
"Ah, that is easily explained. I thought an act of homage deserved a greater audience, a better setting, if you will, than a shabby border castle. I think it more fitting that you come to my Christmas court, do homage to me there,"
Edward said and smiled.
Llewelyn had suspected as much. "Your Christmas court... it will be held in
London?"
"Where else?" Edward asked blandly. "I thought you might enjoy a visit to my capital, for I understand you've not seen London since boyhood."
For Llewelyn, London would forever evoke thoughts of his father and the Tower.
Edward's demand did far more than lacerate his pride; it drew blood, slashed through his defenses to the heart. He was grateful now that he'd been braced for just such a dagger thrust. "It sounds, he said, "as if you mean this to be a Christmas I'll long remember.
Edward's mouth curved. "I do, indeed. I'll make sure a safe-conduct reaches you by Advent." He signaled for a servant to pour more win , all the while regarding Llewelyn thoughtfully. "Speaking of safeconducts, I must confess that you gave me grievous offense last ye
"Only last year?" Llewelyn said dryly, but he had tensed. So ha the other
Welshmen, for they, too, were wary of entrapment. , "Mayhap I should have said you affronted me more thanjus ^ Edward acknowledged good-humoredly. "It was when you o e ^ come to Montgomery or Oswestry to do homage, provided that ^_ the Lady Eleanor de Montfort to you. You were insistent upon come to M the Lady

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too requesting them from the Earls of Gloucester, Surrey, ^nductS: Lincoln, my lord de Mortimer, the Archbishop of CanterfjorfolK, 5ishop of Worcesteramongst others Even taking into
\flfff' tue suspiaous nature of the Welsh, that seemed rather excesaccoun ratner insulting, for you neglected to seek a safe-conduct from SVe~Ia an might well conclude that you thought a royal safe-conduct m6 u be worthless Tell me, my lord, was that indeed what you did tvoulo P*-
1 7'r
^Llewelyn reached for his wine cup and drank, seeking to gain time this the moment when the trap was sprung' Was Edward daring to admit the truth, that there was no corn of the realm as false as h King's sworn word7 Or did Edward truly see himself as a man of or7 The de Montfort partisans had given him an insulting epithet Paidclaiming that, like the leopard, he changed his spots at whim But he had chosen "Keep troth" as his motto Was it done in irony7
Llewelyn thought not
As his silence stretched out, suspense began to build Tudur stirred uneasily, unable to see how Llewelyn could give an honest answer without offering the
English King a deadly insult He was contemplating a desperate gambit, distracting Edward by answering the question himself, in terms Edward would never forgive, when Llewelyn set his wine cup down, leaned across the table
"I do find it difficult to trust the English Crown," he said, with a candor
Edward had not expected He stiffened, seemed about to interrupt But Llewelyn gave him no chance "When my father was being held at Cncieth Castle by his half-brother, my lady mother sought help from the English monarch King Henry agreed, promised that he would be freed, and on the strength of that promise, many Welshmen joined in his war against Davydd ap Llewelyn Davydd was defeated, but King Henry did not keep faith Instead, he sent my father and my brother (-wain to the Tower I know you are aware of this history, my liege But
I lived it, and it left scars, like the dagger of Sultan Baibars's Assassin '
Edward did not respond immediately, nor was his face easy to read udur slumped back in his chair, too relieved to care about hiding sure that Llewelyn had managed the impossible, satisfying Edward "We; not being false to himself s"len (" Edward said at last- "we are a11 our fathers' sons " Another .^* fell
Edward kept his gaze upon Llewelyn "I think," he said, ^ we do understand each other It is my hope that this treaty will Want rrun8 point in the history of our two lands Now now I that yo° cuss Payment of that fifty thousand pounds
I've been told u ^ould find it very difficult to satisfy this debt Is that true7"

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"It will bleed us dry," Llewelyn said tautly, for his outrage at that monstrous fine had yet to abate. Even in the most prosperous times his annual income had never exceeded six thousand pounds.
"I want to be fair, do not want to impose upon you a burden you cannot hope to meet. I am willing, therefore, to remit payment of the fifty thousand pounds.
And as proof of my good will, I will also waive the first annual rent due for the island of Anglesey." f He'd caught the Welsh off balance. As they exchanged startled looks, the same suspicion flashed silently among them, that
Edward had deliberately demanded a sum they could not pay, so that he could then make this dramatic, magnanimous gesture. But whether his generosity was spontaneous or calculated, it was desperately needed. "Diolch yn fawr,"
Llewelyn said. "Thank you, my liege."
Edward glanced inquiringly around the table. "Well, I believe we have concluded all the matters of importance. I would suggest we return to the hall, make ready to dine."
"There is still one very important matter to settle," Llewelyn objected, "for we have not yet discussed my wife's release. I would like to arrange for her to be escorted to the Welsh border as soon as possible."
"Ah, yes, Ellen ..." Edward had been about to rise, sat down again, and smiled across the table at Llewelyn. "We shall, indeed, have to discuss her future.
But I think we ought to wait until you come to my Christmas court."
Llewelyn sucked in his breath. "What are you saying, that you do not intend to set her free? I was assured that you would not detain her once I yielded to you." He shot Otto de Grandison a burning look of accusation, before swinging back to confront Edward again. "Do you mean to renege upon your sworn word?"
"No, I do not. I did agree to release Ellen, and I will do soas soon as I can be sure of your good faith."
"And when will that be?"
"That is up to you, my lord Llewelyn."
Llewelyn's fury was evident to them all, more intense and less controlled than
Edward had anticipated. "I do not see why you are so surprised by my concern for Ellen's safety," he said brusquely. "She is my kinswoman, after all, and I
want to do right by her."
"Ellen is not your ward," Llewelyn said, in a voice husky with rage^ "She is my wife."
"I am not denying that," Edward snapped. "Prove to me that you mean to keep this peace and I will give her to you gladly, with nty blessings! As I said, it is up to you."
The tension did not subside. One spark and the air itself migW kindle, Otto de
Grandison thought morosely, not at all happy with this

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unexpected turn of events. Had he so misread Edward, ignored the trings trailing from the offer to restore the Prince's lady? Had it truly ugen his mistake? He thought not, but it was now, for kings did not err. He gave
Llewelyn an apologetic look, then turned at the sound of a muffled shout.
Striding to the closest window, he unlatched the shutters. "My liege, the
Welsh prisoners have just ridden into the bailey!"
JUJYS AP GRUFFYDD had not been held long enoughfour brief months for it to have left its mark. He looked and acted like a man set upon savoring every moment of his triumph, shouting a bawdy greeting to Davydd, glancing up toward the open window and saluting Llewelyn with a mocking grin. But Owen de la Pole had been a prisoner for three years, and it showed. Utterly gone was the bluster, the swagger. Pale and nervous, he squinted suspiciously in the pallid winter sunlight, not seeming to trust in his changed fortunes until his father came forward and took the reins of his horse. Gruffydd ap Gwenwynwyn gazed up then, stared challengingly at the man standing at the window, just as Rhys had done.
Llewelyn would normally have been stung by their defiance, for he was not accustomed to it. But now it barely registered with him. His eyes were riveted upon the third prisoner, all others forgotten. Staring down at Owain, he was stunned by the realization that he'd not recognized his brother, not at first.
Owain Goch. Owain the Red. Stubborn, courageous, hot-tempered, proud, vengeful. Fettered memories now broke free, a lifetime of discord and strife, for Llewelyn could not remember a time when he and his elder brother had not been at odds. When last they'd met, in Llewelyn's command tent after the battle in the pass at Bwlch Mawr, Owain had been defiant even in defeat. "Post your guards," he'd said, with the bravado that came as naturally to him as breathing. "Your prison will not hold me for long." He'd been wrong about that, as he'd been wrong about so much. That was Owain, the brother who'd led an army onto his lands, the red-haired rebel who had learned every lesson in life the hard way, not this man below in the bailey, not this gaunt, aged stranger with silvered hair and hooded eyes.
"Jesii, is that Owain?" Tudur sounded shocked. "Do you think they released the wrong man?" he asked, not completely in jest.
Llewelyn said nothing. Owain was dismounting, having guided his stallion over to a horse block, Owain who had always jeered at men who could not leap, unaided, into the saddle. He seemed to favor his *p leg, started toward the great hall at an unhurried, measured pace. ^e d yet to look up, had not noticed Llewelyn, or given his surroundings

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more than a cursory glance. He did not appear cowed like Owen de 1 Pole, merely detached, and that, too, could not have been more unlik the Owain
Llewelyn remembered. But then Owain smiled, a smile hOTn his turbulent past, and quickened his step, moving forward uu Davydd's boisterous, exuberant embrace. As Llewelyn watched, they stepped back, embraced again, then entered the hall together.
if IT was dusk by the time Llewelyn returned to his chamber. Servants had been there before him; the hearth had been stoked, a spiked candle lit, a flagon and cups put out upon the table. It was a welcome sightnever had Llewelyn been so exhausted, body and soul. But as he crossed the threshold, he was suddenly sure that he was not alone. It was an instinctive awareness, a sixth sense, a soldier's sense, one he'd learned to trust. He froze, hand on the door latch, eyes probing the darkened corners of the room. "Who is there?" he challenged, dropping his other hand to his dagger hilt.
He heard the sound of a chair being shoved back. And then Davydd stepped out of the shadows. "I've been waiting for you."
"Why?"
"For nigh on two days now, you've been looking right through me. I was beginning to think I'd become invisible, like poor Rhodri. Since we need to talk, I thought I'd best seek you out ere you go deaf as well as blind."
Llewelyn had yet to move from the door. Nor had he closed it. Opening it still farther now, he stepped aside, clearing the way for Davydd's departure. "I
have nothing to say to you."
"Oh, but you do! You've had three years to think about what you wanted to say to me, and most of it would likely blister the paint off these walls. Well, this is your chance. Here I am, so go ahead, say it!"
Earlier that day, Owain had seemed like a stranger; so now did Davydd.
Llewelyn had never heard him sound so angry, a raw, exposed rage that could not be faked, even by as accomplished an actor as Davydd. He moved closer, curious in spite of himself. "You're oddly out of sorts for a man on the winning side in this war."
"On the winning side?" Davydd echoed. "Is that a joke?"
"You can be sure I do not see the Treaty of Aberconwy as a joke." Their eyes caught, held; Davydd was the first to look away. As he drew back, out of the range of the light, Llewelyn followed.
"So you do not think you won? I do not see that you have much to complain of, in truth. You did not come away empty-handed, profited almost as much as
Edward from this English peacethe cantrefs of