The Reckoning - 3 (81 page)

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granted Dyffryn Clwyd to Reginald de Grey, and let Davydd be damned! As for the islandAnglesey, Mon, whatever you want to call itit js mine!"
They both nodded, for these were Crown Commandments, carved in stone; none who heard him could doubt that. "Well, then," Edmund said thoughtfully, "if that is what the Welsh must swallow, what we need to do is sugar it enough for them to get it down. But ere we begin to speak of inducements, we ought to discuss
. . . retribution. How set are you, Ned, upon punishing them for their rebellion? For alas, if you are"
"Ere you answer that, my liege," the Archbishop said quickly, "there is something I would say. Rebellion is a grave offense against God and man, for it violates the natural order of things. Nevertheless, I am inclined to urge you to show mercy to the Welsh. I do not know if you've yet read the testaments I brought back from Aber, but I found them troubling, my liege. If the allegations they make are true, they have indeed been ill used by certain officials of the Crown. I am not saying that excuses their sedition or their sacrilege, but it may be that these mitigating circumstances do argue for clemency."
Edward was scowling, but he had not interrupted, and they considered that a good sign. After a long silence, he said, "From what I've been hearing, it may be that Llewelyn ap Gruffydd was goaded into this war by that Judas brother of his. And God has already seen fit to punish him grievously for his sins, for I
do not doubt that he truly loved my cousin. If he agrees to submit to the
Crown, he will not find me unmerciful."
The Archbishop favored Edward with one of his infrequent smiles, but he still thought it best to act at once, lest the King change his mind. "Might the council meet this day, my liege? We have much to do, after all, for we must somehow find a way to make the Welsh Prince realize that it is in his own best interest to end this accursed war. Our task will not be an easy one, but this
I can assure you, that you'll not regret your generosity."
Edward looked skeptical. "That," he said, "will depend upon Llewelyn ap
Gruffydd."

35
ABER, WALES
November 1282
You are welcome, of course, at Aber," Llewelyn said. "But I must admit, Brother John, that your return is a surprise. The English King demanded our surrender, and we refused. That does not leave much to discuss."
"I bring you an offer, my lord, from King Edward," Brother John said, lowering his voice so the others in the hall would not hear. "But it is not one I can present to your council. May I see you alone . . . you and your brother?"
Llewelyn and Davydd traded startled glances. Llewelyn did not like the sound of it, and he was inclining toward a refusal. But nothing attracted Davydd like intrigue. Leaning over, he murmured, "We have to hear him out, Llewelyn.
If not, it'll haunt me till the end of my days, wondering what devil's brew
Edward was stirring up! How can you not be at all curious?"
Llewelyn's mouth curved. "So I am curious," he conceded, and turned back to the waiting friar. "Let's go."
Waiting until a servant had poured wine and then withdrawn, Llewelyn waved the friar into a seat across the table. "Well, Brother John? Suppose you tell us what the English King would like to offer me?" "An English earldom, my lord."
Davydd was close enough for Llewelyn to hear his indrawn breath. The look they exchanged this time was one of utter astonishment. Llewelyn set his wine cup down upon the table, very carefully. "What?" Brother John smiled; if it had been exciting before to be a witness to history, how much more exhilarating it was to be a participant, to Biake peace happen. "I do not blame you for doubting, my lord, for rarelyif everhas a king made so generous an offer to a rebel vassal. °ut it is genuine, I can assure you. King Edward is willing to grant you

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lands in England worth a thousand pounds a year. He will also provide honorably for your daughter, his cousin. And if you should wed again and your new wife gives you a male heir, your son can inherit the earldom. For all this, you need only submit to the Crown, and then put the King in peaceful possession of Snowdon, what you call Eryri, those lands west of the River
Conwy."
Llewelyn said nothing, leaning back in his chair, his face unreadable to the friar. But Davydd could see how Llewelyn's hands had clenched upon the arms of his chair. Reaching for his wine cup, he raised it in a mock salute.
"Amazing," he said, "truly amazing. But do not keep me in suspense, Brother
John. After hearing what Edward has just offered Llewelyn, I cannot wait to hear what he has in mind for me!"
A flicker of distaste crossed the friar's face, and was quickly gone. "If you agree, my lord Davydd, to go on crusade to the Holy Land, and not to return except upon the King's pleasure, he will then undertake to provide for your wife and children."
Brother John paused for a response, but Davydd was no more forthcoming now than his brother. "The Archbishop bade me, my lords, to assure you that he will do all in his power to secure merciful and just treatment for the King's
Welsh subjects if you agree to these terms."
He was becoming uncomfortable with their continuing silence. "It was my intent to return to Rhuddlan on the morrow with your answers. But if you need more time, my lord Llewelyn, I will be glad to wait"
"No," Llewelyn said, "I need no more time." He pushed his chair back then, and the friar took the hint, got to his feet.
"I shall leave you now, my lords," he said politely, "for I am sure you wish to discuss this between yourselves." He got all the way to the door before he could bring himself to convey the rest of the royal message, for he was at heart a man of peace, and he found it both demeaning and disturbing to have to resort to threats, even if it was at the King's behest.
"My lords ... I would that I did not have to say this to you, but there is too much at stake for discretion. My lord Archbishop would be loath to do it, but if this war continues, he will have no choice but to lay all Wales under
Interdict. And the King wants you to understand that this is your last chance to save yourselves. If you spurn his generosity, he will bring to bear all the manifold power and resources of the English Crown in the conquest of Wales. It will be war to the utmost, a war of extermination. Forgive me for putting it so bluntly, my lords/ but those were the King's very words."
Davydd shoved aside his wine cup, stood up, and followed the frja» to the door, shouting for a servant, returning in a few moments vn

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another flagon. "I thought," he said, "that we needed a stronger drink than this watered-down French wine," and he proceeded to empty their cups into the rushes, refilling them to the brim with mead.
They drank in silence for a time. "I have been trying to decide," Llewelyn said at last, "which of us received the greater insult."
"Well, they think I can be scared into submission and you can be bribed. If insults were horses and this a race, I'd venture that they'd reach the finish line in the same stride," Davydd said, and as they looked at each other, they began to laugh, laughter that held echoes of outrage and disbelief and even a few mordant traces of a very bitter humor.
EDWARD was so reluctant to be separated from Eleanora that he'd taken her with him into Wales, even though she was heavily pregnant at the time. And when
Edmund arrived from France at the end of July, he, too, brought his wife, eloquent testimony to English self-confidence, and irrefutable proof that a marriage of state could be more than a practical, political alliance, much more.
Blanche was sitting in a window-seat in the great hall at Rhuddlan. The new castle was not yet completed, and living accommodations there were not as comfortable as she was accustomed to enjoying. But that was not the reason why she yearned to return to England; for Blanche, Wales was haunted. She had a book open upon her lap, a French version of the story of the star-crossed lovers Tristan and Iseult, but she was not reading. She was inconspicuously daubing at the corner of her eye, did not hear the approaching footsteps until it was too late.
Edward was surprised to catch a glimmer of tears, for his sister-inlaw was not a woman who wept easily. "Is the book as sad as that, Blanche?"
Blanche looked up at him. "I was thinking of Ellen."
Edward stiffened, hesitated, and then sat down across from her in 'he window-seat. "I know," he said, "I know, lass. We are taught that the Almighty always has a divine purpose in mind, but sometimes it is hard to see ..." He murmured a low "Thy Will be done," crossed himself, and Blanche thought he would depart then.
He stayed there in the window-seat, though, and after a brief siler>ce, said, "I never fretted much about Eleanora's confinements. Birth^gs always came easily for her, even if the babe was too often sickly °r stillborn. I suppose that after so many, childbirth had become too fmiliar, for I just took it for granted that nothing would go wrong. But en . then I learned about Ellen, may God assoil her, the poor lass.

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That last month, Blanche, till the babe was born, I'd lie in bed beside
Eleanora, and all I could think about was what my life would be like without her ..."
Blanche was both surprised and touched by his confession; it was the first time that Edward had given her a glimpse into any of the secret corners of his soul. "But you did not lose her," she said. "Instead, she bore you a healthy baby girl. I've been meaning to ask you, Ned, about that. Why Elizabeth? That is not a common name, nor is it one from your family ... is it?"
He smiled, shook his head. "I just fancied it, and after twelve babies, we were running out of names! I hear the servants are calling her 'the
Welshwoman.' I imagine she'll go through life as Elizabeth of Rhuddlan, for my daughter born in the Holy Land is known to one and all as Joanna of Acre."
"I've heard rumors that you are thinking of wedding Joanna to the Earl of
Gloucester?"
"Nothing is settled as yet, but yes, I am considering it. There are a few obstacles to be overcome . . . Gloucester's wife, for one! They have been living apart for nigh on twenty years, but he never got around to petitioning the Pope to annul the marriage. Joanna is still a little lass, though, barely ten, so a year or two's delay will not matter" Edward broke off at that, for he'd noticed his brother entering the hall.
"Ah, there's Edmund." He grinned suddenly. "Alas, he just got himself snared by Rhodri ap Gruffydd . . . poor lad!"
Blanche craned her neck to see, for she was quite curious about Rhodri, the man Edward cruelly called "the least of Llewelyn's brothers." She could not help wondering what Rhodri thought about in his quiet hours, when he was alone. Did he ever think of his brothers at Aber? Had he any regrets?
"He is not at all like Llewelyn, is he? I see no resemblance whatsoever, and for certes he has not Llewelyn's . . . whatever it is that enables a man to command others. Mayhap there is truth, after all, in those folk tales of changelings!"
"You are still fond of Llewelyn."
It was not a question, not quite an accusation. Blanche made no attempt to deny it. "Yes," she said, meeting her brother-in-law's eyes squarely, "I am."
She was not sure what his reaction would be, for there was an unpredictable streak in his nature that made him both interesting and dangerous. She waited now to see if he would be angered or amused by her candor.
Amusement won out, for he found boldness hard to resistnios of the time. "Such a shy, timid lass," he said, but with a smile. "^ou

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must be right pleased, then, with the offer we made to Llewelyn. How often is a rebel awarded with an earldom?"
"Do you truly expect Llewelyn to accept?" Blanche asked, as neutrally as she could, and Edward shrugged.
"He is a fool if he does not," he said, and then Edmund had reached them.
Blanche made room for him on the seat, and he slid in. But his greeting for her was preoccupied, his attention focused upon his brother.
"Ned, we just got word from Roger de Springhouse. The sheriff of Shropshire,"
he added, just for Blanche's benefit; he knew Edward's memory was far too keen to need any prompting about Crown officials. "As you ordered, he put Thomas de la Hyde in charge of de Mortimer's castle at Clun. But that did not please de
Mortimer's widow. The Lady Maude complained to him right sharply, saying that her husband's vassals would not welcome Crown meddling in de Mortimer lands.
And there's some truth to that, I'm sorry to say. This past week de
Springhouse rode to Clun to confer with de la Hyde. When he arrived, the constable came out beyond the walls to greet him, and the castle garrison promptly locked him out."
Edward cursed, fluently and so freely that Blanche knew he'd forgotten her presence. "That sort of unease is a contagion that can spread, Edmund. The sheriff had warned me that he found de Mortimer's people to be 'fickle and haughty,' saying openly that they 'have no lord now.' I had not realized, though, that it was as bad as this."
"I think you ought to invest de Mortimer's eldest son with his lands as soon as possible, Ned."
Edward nodded. "Let's hope that will help, for if Maelienydd catches fire, you can be sure the Welsh will be right there to fan the flames. Of course, if
Brother John was persuasive enough to make Llewelyn see reason, I can deal with de Mortimer's discontented vassals at my leisure, and still be back in
London in time for Christmas."
"I would not rely on that," Blanche said, and Edward gave her a cool glance, no longer amused.
"What makes you say that, Blanche? Has your fondness for Llewelyn ap Gruffydd given you some special insight into the man's mind?"
"No insight," she said composedly, "and not second sight, either. °ut the
Archbishop of Canterbury is coming our way, and he does not look like a man with good news to share."
"The Welsh are an accursed, insolent people, and I rue the day I
eyer tried to bring them back to God's Grace!" The Archbishop halted
^ front of the window-seat, brandishing several pages of parchment.
should have heeded you, my liege, for they are indeed beyond sal-
vation."
"Llewelyn refused the earldom?" Edward was incredulous.

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"He said that your offer was neither safe nor honest, and he could never consent, for it would mean the destruction of his people." The Archbishop thrust the letters at Edward. "See for yourself. He says that even if he'd been willing to agree to his own disinheritance, his council would never permit him to renounce his birthright . . . and he adds that they marveled such a proposal would even be made. The second letter is from his council.
They say that these terms are utterly unacceptable, that they will never again do homage to strangers, to those whose tongue, manners, and laws are alien to them."
Edward's eyes glittered. "Will they not, indeed? And Davydd?"