The Reckoning - 3 (65 page)

Llewelyn was laying plans to hold on to Arwystli, that he was not going to let it be stolen away in an English c°urt. If these plans risked war, so be it;
Goronwy tended to look upon War as he did the coming of winter: as unwelcome, onerous, and instable.
Draining his cider cup, Goronwy said suddenly, "I must confess, my lord, that one thing about this alliance does trouble me."
"Only one?" Llewelyn asked, but Goronwy was impervious to °ny< and nodded vigorously.

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"How can we be sure," he asked, "that de Mortimer shall be willing?"
That was the least of Llewelyn's worries. "I know the man," ne said, with enough certainty to satisfy Goronwy. But his was an easy face to read.
Llewelyn waited, then prompted, "Well? What else bothers you?"
"What of your lady?"
Goronwy's query was so unexpected, so presumptuous, that Llewelyn realized almost at once that it could only be motivated by a very genuine concern. It was an undeniable familiarity, but one spurred on by friendship, and Llewelyn acknowledged it as such with the candor it deserved.
"I would to God there was another way, Goronwy," he conceded quietly, "for she would sooner see me in league with Lucifer than allied with Roger de Mortimer.
But my wife is a reasonable woman. She will understand."
LLEWELYN was awakened by the screeching of gulls. The raucous clamor puzzled him at first, until he remembered that they were no longer at the mountain grange of Hafod-y-Llan. He'd moved his household to his coastal castle at
Cricieth, where Ellen was to remain while he journeyed south to meet with
Roger de Mortimer.
The squabbling of the gulls had grown louder; it sounded as if they were fighting over a fish right under his window. It had been left unshuttered, open to the night air, for the weather had been unusually mild that September, as if Nature seemed set upon making amends for such a chill, rain-sodden spring and summer. Llewelyn lay still for a few moments, breathing in the tangy salt air. Almost lulled back to sleep by the rhythmic sound of ocean waves breaking upon the rocks below the castle, he reached drowsily for Ellen.
But his seeking hand encountered only the rumpled folds of the bed sheets.
Fully awake now, he raised himself on his elbow. Ellen was awake, too, reclining upon a pillow propped against the headboard, with the breadth of the bed between them. As he stirred, her lashes quivered, but her eyes stayed downcast. So close to the edge of the mattress was she that a careless move could have sent her tumbling onto the flooi' She looked pale and tired in the dawn light, and Llewelyn felt a sudden surge of tenderness. It was time to heal this foolish rift, to make thing5 right between them. The first overtures would have to be his, but tha was fair, for her grievance was a real one. He'd not begrudged her righ to anger, had just not expected that she would cling to it so stubbornly
Leaning across the bed, he reached for her long braid, entwining
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its tip around his fingers. "It is lonely over here by myself, Ellen," he murmured coaxingly. "I am accustomed to finding you beside me when j awake, and I've missed that, cariad, missed your warmth, the feel of your breath on my skin as you slept. You once said our marriage bed was a haven, but in this past week, it has begun to resemble a kingdom split in twain and under siege.
If I could tempt you into venturing into my half of our disputed domain, I
feel sure we could find a way to mend this breach, to make our peace."
Having offered her an olive branch, he felt a sense of relief; he ought to have done this days ago, spared them both some unquiet nights. Her lashes flickered again, no longer hovered along her cheeks, and he found himself looking into eyes utterly opaque and inscrutable. He could see color rising in her face and throat. She glanced away, then, sat up, and slid over onto his side of the bed.
Llewelyn did not want to talk, for he realized there was nothing he could say to ease her discontent; only time could do that. He knew she'd never like it, his association with Roger de Mortimer. But she'd learn to accept it; what other choice had she? "I have a confession to make," he said, gently smoothing back the stray tendrils of hair framing her face. "Nothing under God's sky disheartens me more than quarreling with you." Her lashes had veiled her eyes again; he brushed his lips against her eyelids and temples before seeking her mouth.

Ellen offered no resistance, but neither did she respond. She simply lay there, let him kiss and caress her as he wished, and when he pulled back, ended the embrace, he was as angry as she'd ever seen him. "How long," he demanded, "is this going to continue?"
She did not pretend to misunderstand him. "I am not refusing you, Llewelyn,"
she pointed out coolly. "I am ready to perform all of my wifely duties when and as you will."
"How very noble," he snapped. "And what am I supposed to do )ust wake you when it's over?"
"I would suggest that you take what is offered, because duty is about all I
can muster up at the moment!"
Llewelyn could have been looking at a stranger. "Of a sudden," he ^d, "I do not feel as if I know you at all."
"I can return the compliment, my lord, for I do not think I know you either, not anymore. I would have wagered my life that you'd never Singly hurt meand
I'd have been wrong!"
"Christ Jesus, woman, must we get into this again? What more is tllere to say?
You know why I am doing this"
"And you know what Roger de Mortimer did to my father! We
* °od in our bridal chamber at Worcester Castle and you listened as I
fnl J J
told you what I'd never told another living soul, how that evil, ungodly

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man maimed and mutilated my father's bodyneed I repeat all the vi] disgusting details? De Mortimer and his cut-throats butchered my f ath~ hacked him into bloody pieces, threw what was left of him to the dOg ' And this is the man you would have me break bread with! You tell m how, my lord husband, how do I do that? As I sit across the table and smile at him, how do I not think of
Wigmore Castle . . . and my father's head rotting above the gateway?"
"Stop it, Ellen! That would never happen, and you know it. Dy > not promise you that you'd not have to lay eyes upon the man, much less make him welcome at our hearth? Is my word no longer enough for you?"
"I am neither a fool nor a child, Llewelyn. You can offer me a plenitude of promises todayand mean each and every one of them. But should the day ever come when your new ally arrives unexpectedly at your gate, wanting to conspire with you against Gruffydd an Gwenwynwyn, we both know you'll not turn him away, you'll not risk offending him to spare my feelings."
"For God's sake, Ellen, you're more important to me than Roger de Mortimer!"
"Am I? Prove it to me, then. Give up this accursed idea."
What hurt her the most was that he did not even hesitate. "I cannot do that.
There is too much at stake."
She'd already gone further than she'd intended, but the utter matter-of-factness of his answer goaded her on. "So you're saying, then, that avenging yourself upon Gruffydd ap Gwenwynwyn matters more than our marriage."
"No . . . but the survival of Wales does," he said, with a bluntness that took her breath away, and after that, there was nothing left to be said. Rising from the bed, Llewelyn strode to an open coffer, pulling out garments more or less at random. Ellen reached for her bedrobe, began to unbraid her hair with fingers that shook. They summoned neither his squires nor her ladies, dressed themselves in utter and suffocating silence. Llewelyn was still fumbling with his belt as he reached the door. There he paused, glancing back at his wife.
"You think I do not understand your anger," he said abruptly, "and you are wrong, for I do." Ellen put her hairbrush down, watching him warily, for although his words sounded conciliatory, his voice did not; it seemed edged in flint. "You have every reason to loathe de Mortimerand your loyalty to your father is both natural and commendable. But we owe a greater loyalty to the living than to the dead, and you sees1 to have forgotten that. You are more than Simon de Montfort's daughter You are also my wife, and that, too, you seem to have forgotten. Ican only hope that your memory improves, Ellenfor both our sakes/

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Ellen did not reply, and he jerked the door open, barely resisting urge to slam it behind him She sat very still, long after he'd gone, ^jng blindly at that closed door The dawn mist had burned off by yf and a patch of sapphire-blue sky shimmered within the window's
, ained opening The day was promising all the false, lulling warmth of f^chaelmas summer, but only the innocent would be taken in, those vho'd not yet learned that such brief, bittersweet respites too often led lolling frost and the bone-crippling cold of an early winter
ILEWELYN spared no tame for breakfast, plunged at once into the day's W0rk He dictated letters to Madog Goch ap lorwerth, constable of penllyn, to the Abbot of Aberconwy, and the Jusnciar of Chester He got a report about storm damage to the Menai ferry He discussed with his chamberlain the collection of court amercements, a major source of princely revenue He agreed to preside over a perjury case during his Christmas court at Dolwyddelan He authorized a
Michaelmas payment due upon the thousand marks owed to his brother Rhodn And he interrogated the eye-witness to a brawl that had broken out when one of his rhmgylls had attempted to confiscate the goods of a man convicted of receiving stolen property
To all appearances, he'd passed a busy and productive morning But he was finding it unexpectedly difficult to concentrate upon the matters at hand He struggled against the tide until noon, refusing to admit that the husband's distraction could prove stronger than the Prince's will But eventually he gave up, sent Trevor to fetch his sword and scabbard from his bedchamber, and ordered his horse saddled
His departure was delayed by the strenuous objections of his teulu, but
Llewelyn's need for solitude was increasingly urgent, and he prevailed His stallion was young and spirited, eager to run He gave the animal its head, setting so swift a pace that Cricieth Castle soon disappeared into the distance
He was riding into the wind and it whipped his hair about wildly, burned his face He barely felt it, though, was equally oblivious to the low-lying hills and marshes stretching along either side of the road He forded the River Dwfor at the commotal settlement of Dolbenmaen, and foe tenants tending its desmesne lands stopped their work to gape as
116 passed, astonished that their Pnnce should suddenly appear in their "udst like this, alone, accompanied by none of his household guard
Llewelyn had not planned to depart for his meeting with Roger de ^ortimer until Fnday of the following week, for he'd wanted to be with ~"en on her twenty-ninth birthday Now, though, he was reconsidering "kyhap it might be for the best if he left early, if they had some time

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apart. He realized what an inadequate solution that was, but he was unable to come up with a better one. And underlying his anger and frustration was a new and unsettling anxiety. For the first time, he found himself thinking what would have been unthinkable even hours ago What if Ellen did not come to her senses? Or when she did, what if, by then, it was too late? Once a foundation cracked, it put the entire building at risk. Was that true, as well, for a marriage?
Llewelyn's stallion shied as a hare broke from the bushes, flashed in front of them. Reining in, he stroked the horse's neck. It was lathered with sweat, and only then did he realize just how far they'd come. He had to go no more than twenty feet from the road to find water; Llyn was crisscrossed with serpentine streams and shallow, muddy rivers. As the horse drank, he stretched his stiff muscles, measured the westward slide of the sun. He'd forgotten a flask, now knelt, cupped his hands, and drank, too. But he was also hungry and tired, and as he gazed at the road winding its way south, he knew suddenly that he did not want to make that long, wearying ride back to Criciethand Ellen. Llewelyn studied the surrounding terrain, needing but a few moments to get his bearings, for he carried a mental map of his Welsh domains. Off to the southwest lay Bwlch Mawr; he'd once fought a battle within its shadow, scored a sweeping victory over the invading army led by his brothers, Owain and
Davydd. He was only a few miles, then, from the monastery at Clynnog. His uncle Einion had a manor just south of Clynnog. Why not ride over, stay the night? Einion's health was failing, and he kept close to his own hearth these days; it would be good to pass some time together. It was an easy decision for
Llewelyn to make; Einion's manor was far closer than Cricieth. But so reluctant was he to face Ellen while he was still so angry with her that he'd have found a way to justify his choice had the distance been twice as great.
Mounting his horse again, he abandoned the road and headed west, cutting cross-country toward the ocean.
He knew when he was nearing the sea, alerted by the soft glow of light that hovered upon the horizon. Reaching the coast road, he drew rein, passed a few moments savoring the view. But as he was about to start south toward Clynnog, he heard the sound of approaching riders. A small group of horsemen were coming from the north, from the direction of Caer yn Arfon. Even at such a distance, Llewelyn could tell that they were well armed and well mounted.
Curious, he wheeled W6 stallion, waited for them.
It would have been difficult to say which one was the more startled/ Llewelyn or Davydd. Davydd was certainly the more pleased. After reining in abruptly at sight of his brother, he did a deliberately coin1*- doubletake, then spurred his stallion forward, laughing. "I rarely s#
apparitions without a fair helping of wine, but I'd hardly expect to find fae
Lord Prince of Wales and Eryri loitering on the Clynnog Roadand alone, too, by
God! If I had a suspicious mind, Llewelyn, I'd think you must have a tryst planned with some local lass. Of course you could have been waiting patiently by the roadside to bid me a personal, warm welcome, but even I find that far-fetched!"
It may have been Davydd's cocky grin. Or that recent ride through Bvvlch Mawr
Pass, where a lifetime's conflict with Davydd had begun. Or simply that he was tired, his nerves on edge. But suddenly Llewelyn heard himself saying belligerently, "What are you doing in Llyn, Davydd? Do you think you can come and go in my domains as you will?"
Davydd lost his smile in a hurry. "I wrote last month," he said, "to let you know I'd be coming into Llyn to see Owain. I thought that would be sufficient.
Should I have asked for a safe-conduct?"
Llewelyn almost lashed back with the obvious retort, that in light of their history, he was the one likely to be in need of a safe-conduct. But he caught himself in time, for he was remembering now that Davydd had indeed written as