Here Be Dragons - 1

by Sharon Kay Penman

  420 T 421 that time not once had John ever raised his voice to her. He did not have to; he could chill Eleanor to the depths of her being with his smile. She sometimes wondered if he knew how much she feared him, but she found it impossible to read those enigmatic hazel eyes. She recognized most of the men attending her uncle: her baseborn cousins Richard and Oliver Fitz Roy, the Earl of Pembroke, the swarthy Earl of Chester, who had for a brief time been her stepfather, for the old King Henry had compelled her mother to wed Chester after her father's tournament death. But they had never lived as man and wife, and Eleanor had no childhood memories of Chester, knew he was indifferent to her fate. She had no champions at her uncle's court, had none anywhere. Her brother and mother were dead, her friends silenced. She had a younger half-sister, Alice, child of her mother's third marriage to a Poitevin nobleman, but Alice had wed a cousin of the French King, and they now ruled Brittany at Philip's pleasure, had a vested interest in Eleanor's continuing captivity. There was no one to speak for her, and well she knew it. "I've heard men call you 'the pearl of Brittany/ and now I know why." The speaker was unknown to Eleanor, a dark, raffish-looking man with bold, appraising eyes that tracked the curves of her body with obvious intent. Eleanor felt her face grow hot; she was as flustered as a shy seventeen-year-old, for time had frozen for her on an August afternoon at Mirebeau, and at an age when other women had long since been wedded and bedded, she still knew no more of men and the world than would a young novice nun. The man seemed amused by her embarrassment. Before she could pull back, he caught her hand and brought it to his mouth. "Since your uncle the King swears I'm not to be trusted with any woman who has not taken holy vows, I doubt that he'll introduce us. So I'd best do it myself. I am Reginald de Dammartin, Count of Boulogne. Welcome, my lady, to Porchester." "And now that you've met her, you may bid her farewell," Jorm said dryly, thus sparing Eleanor the need to reply. Rising, he linked his arm in Eleanor's, led her toward the window seat. "Come, Nell, sit here beside me so we may talk." The familiar family name stung. So, too, did his protectiveness. He never teased her, never turned upon her the sarcasm, the mordant blac humor that she'd so often seen him turn upon others. And Eleano found his kindness harder to bear than cruelty. "Have you heard that I sail next week for La Rochelle?" Eleanor nodded. "Your daughter Joanna writes to me from tun rime. She to'd me tnat you mean to regain Normandy and Poitou from the French King." "You've heard from Joanna? Is she well?" Eleanor was surprised by the urgency of the query, but again she nodded. "Quite well, and thankful for the truce that exists between her husband and Your Grace." John's mouth thinned, for the truce with the Welsh Princes had not been of his choosing, had been brought about at the insistence of Stephen Langton, Archbishop of Canterbury. But he'd had just one terse letter from Joanna in the past twelvemonth, and he interrogated Eleanor now at some length, seeking reassurance that his daughter was truly well, that her prolonged silence was indicative only of Llewelyn's rancor. Eleanor caught the undertones of unease, but she did not comprehend the cause. She wondered why he had sent for her. She wondered, too, if she would ever find the courage to confront him about her brother's death, to demand that he tell her how Arthur had died. Satisfied at last that she had no more to tell him about Joanna, John said, "My brother Will has already sailed for Flanders, where he'll be joined by Dammartin and my sister's son Otto, the Holy Roman Emperor. For my part, I

  shall land at La Rochelle. Once I've secured Poitou and Anjou, we'll be able to move against Philip on two fronts." "God grant you victory, Uncle." Why was he telling her this? Reginald de Dammartin sauntered over, held out a dripping wine cup to John. "When you begin husband-hunting for her, John, remember that I put in my bid first." "I would, Reg," John said and grinned. "But I think your wife might take it amiss." Eleanor was dumbfounded. "Husband-hunting?" she echoed. "Uncle, what does he mean?" John did not reply at once, studying her over the rim of his cup. She shared Arthur's coloring, he thought, but little else. Arthur had been too brittle to bend, but Nell was malleable clay; rebellion was not in her. Well, you can hardly expect to rule Brittany without a husband to give y°u support and guidance, can you?" PI anor seemed dazed; she could only stare at him in disbelief. ou you mean to recognize my claim to the Breton throne?" No ner were the words out of her mouth than the full implications of her j|Uestion hit her; if he admitted she was the rightful heiress to Brittany, e was admitting, too, that Arthur was dead. he smiled. "Your claim is for certes superior to your half-sister's," Said' adroitly sidestepping the trap.

  422 She could still ensnare him, she knew. She need only ask- W Arthur's claim? But John's gaze did not waver; his eyes held ri °' steadily, hypnotically. Crs We "Your sister and her husband have been French puppet pulled the strings and they danced at his whim. After I prevail ^ Philip, I shall want a more reliable regime in Brittany. Natu j^08* thought of you, Nell." ^' ' Eleanor swallowed. She was not so innocent that she did not u stand what was being offered and what was not. It might sound ** John was opening the door of her cage, but she'd still be tethered t h' will. If her sister was Philip's puppet, she would be John's. She laced her fingers together, sought without success to still th tremors. His advisers would govern in her name. He'd pick a husba d for her, and she'd be given no say in it. But she'd have a measure of freedom. And she was still young enough to have children, to have the family she'd thought forever denied her. She closed her eyes, and Arthur's name hovered on her lips, like an unspoken prayer. "Well?" John put his hand on her arm, felt her quiver at his touch How fearful she was, as timid as a trapped doe. Her vulnerability stirred his pity, her lack of pluck his contempt. He tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. "What say you, Nell? If I make you Duchess of Brittany, will I regret it?" "No, Uncle," she whispered. "You'll not regret it. I'll do whatever you want." ON February 14, John landed at La Rochelle. Taking advantage of an early spring thaw, he moved into Isabelle's Angouleme, and then the Limousin. When the de Lusignans scorned his offer of a truce, he led hi< army into Hugh de Lusignan's county of La Marche. Philip had beei forced to split his army, dispatching his son Louis against John while hi headed north in an attempt to halt Will and Dammartin's depredation in Flanders. But Louis was an overly cautious commander, and Marc gave way to April and then May, and it began to seem as if the Angevin empire was John's for the taking. On Whitsun Eve, May 17, John captured the de Lusignan castle^ Mervant. The next day he moved on to Vouvant, where Hugh s un ^ Geoffrey de Lusignan, had taken refuge with his sons. Upon t e ^ fusal to yield, John's men surrounded the castle, and the siege e^ After filling in the moat with brushwood and dirt, they succ ^ in setting fire to the wooden palisade, soon gained control o ^^ bailey. John then ordered his siege engines brought up, and aeair>" to dusk on Tuesday, the mangonels sent heavy rocks slamming

  423 ling. jjs and keep While in La Rochelle, John had secured a he cab evv siege weapon, called a trebuchet, it was a high-trajectory elative y ^^ more accurate than the mangonels, and by Tuesday ling/ o s^ too^ was m operation, hurling enormous boulders and jtterrt / ^,feejc flre anc} even the rotting carcasses of dead horses into (he are Q£ ^ besieged castle By nightfall, John's soldiers were t'ie' upon the hour of the castle's fall, and John's was the sound Tgpofa man already Savonn8 the Vlctory to come Aft r breaking his fast the next morning, John summoned the Earl rhester and together they went to inspect the siege tower that had ompleted soon after sunrise Fashioned from tree trunks, it d more than sixty feet into the sky As John and Chester watched, ,es (joused in vinegar were tacked in place, and then, at John's signal, the huge belfry began to roll slowly across the bailey Up on the walls, the defenders were shooting flaming arrows, but they glanced off the hides, failed to ignite Under cover of their shields, men clambered down, knocked off the belfry wheels, and then lowered its drawbridge, settling it against the castle wall De Lusignan's soldiers began to throw torches, but men were already scrambling across, leaping onto the wall Others were emerging from the lower stories of the belfry, hastening to joi
n their comrades on the drawbridge The fighting was now hand-to-hand combat Men grappled with each other, swearing and gouging and panting, some lost their footing and fell, or were pushed off the walls to their deaths But as more and more men crossed he drawbridge, the castle's defenders were forced to give ground Aleady some of the attacking force had lowered thong ladders, were 'imbing down into the bailey Look1" John gave a jubilant shout, pointed "Our men have the er gatehouse, the portcullis is rising'" By noon the de Lusignans and their surviving men had walled emselves up in the keep, and John's soldiers were readying them- 1 Ves for the final assault John had decided not to dig a tunnel to unslo1"6 -!he keep/ wnlle that was the surest method, it was also the taly S " tr^ *^e Battering ram first," he concluded, after a pams- Lus"8 appraisal of the keep "Remember, though, that I want the de SUr« oH?5 taken allVC 'f Possible l promised myself I'd have the plea- ,y an8lng the whoresons," he added, and his captains laughed 'n und r ace'" Tne Earl of Derby was gesturing "A rider is coming Jsior,-, ,a *> °* truce, and damn me if he's not wearing Hugh de 6"an s hveryi" 1 befo m°ments an exceedingly nervous youth was kneeling in the re J°hn "Your Grace, my lord Count of La Marche most

  424 urgently requests a meeting with you. Will you grant him a saf so he might enter your camp?" c°nduC( "Indeed I will," John said, and smiled. "Tell Hugh that if h haste, he'll be in time for the hangings." make$ They met in John's command tent within the hour. Hugh d nan had not aged well in the twelve years since Mirebeau His h ^ beard were the shade of sea salt, his skin as splotched and sun-b ^ ^ as well-worn leather, and his eyes put John in mind of his favorit^^ egrine falcon. But he came forward without apparent hesitation v and said, "I thank Your Grace for seeing me. I think it time we talk HI "I offered to talk in March, as I recall. You said you'd sooner b bread with the Devil... or words to that effect." "I was in the wrong," Hugh said stonily. "I seek your pardon, seek peace between us." So did John. He needed the powerful de Lusignan clan to make good his conquest of Poitou. But he took his time, let Hugh suffer the suspense until he finally nodded, said, "So it shall be, then." Hugh's eyes glittered. "I shall give you faithful service, my liege. Now . . . what of my uncle and cousins?" John smiled coolly. "I'd planned to hang them, Hugh," he said pleasantly. "But if you can talk them into surrendering, I'll pardon them ... as proof of the friendship I now bear you." Hugh sighed audibly. "Again, I thank Your Grace." John signaled for wine. His ploy had worked even better than he'd expected; Hugh's uncle had proven to be irresistible bait. He'd bought a truce with the lives of Geoffrey de Lusignan and his sons, a truce for today. But what of tomorrow? What was to keep Hugh from disavowing his oath once his kinsmen were safe? He needed more, needed some way to bind the de Lusignans to him, to entwine his fortunes inextricably with theirs. And after careful consideration, he thought he knew how to do just that. "There has been bad blood between us for far too long, Hugh. Let s pledge a new beginning, bury our grievances here and now. Hugh's smile was sour. "Is that not what we are doing?" "I mean what I say, Hugh. But words are hollow. So I'll give ?" living proof of my good faithmy daughter." "Jesu!" Hugh sat back, staring at him. "Are you serious?" "Very serious. Isabelle and I have a daughter; you have a son. better way to heal old hurts than to cleanse them in a bond of blo°enU. There was no need to say more. This time Hugh's smile was g^ ine, even reached his eyes. He held his wine cup aloft. 10 ding," he said. "And to new beginnings."

  425 growing bored Rising, she glanced about the chamber ^ABELLE ^ parthenay for John to accept oaths of homage from the TheV s and to secure their precarious peace within the sanctity of je Lusig ^ morning Hugh de Lusignan's grown son and namesake niarriag ^etrothed to John and Isabelle's young daughter Joanna 1 ttle bride-to-be, still two months shy of her fourth birthday, mprehension of the ceremony that linked her life to Hugh de aruj she was now playing contentedly in a corner with a new LU? oss the chamber, Hugh de Lusignan and John were exchanging 1 barbed courtesies, while Eleanor was in animated conversation h Ralph de Lusignan and Hugh's son Isabella could not help notic- the changes four months at John's court had wrought in Eleanor Sh d shed much of her shyness, she was even flirting a little with Hugh's handsome son When she caught John's eye, Isabelle blew him a playful kiss, and then moved toward the door Wandering out into the gardens, she nicked a bouquet of white violets, settled herself upon a turf seat in the shadow of a flowering peach tree She felt no surprise when, after a few moments, she saw the younger de Lusignan coming toward her, she'd noticed the way his eyes followed her when he thought no one else was watching "May I join you7" "Why not7" Isabelle reached for her flowers, cleared a space on the turf seat "How did you get away from Eleanor7 She's rather taken with you, you know When you're there, she loses that air of martyred melancholy, becomes almost vivacious " He grinned "How sharp your claws, Madame1 A man who was the ^am sort might begin to wonder why " To Isabelle's surprise, she was not affronted Mayhap it was his smile, she decided, it was disarming, boyishly endearing, appealmgly at ^nance with the knowing blue eyes She wondered how old he was thirty-three, thirty-four7 'hinkf6 'aU8hed and/ at hls questioning look, said lightly, "I was just n ng that if fate had been different, I'd have been your stepmother1" m h Uj>h 'aughed, too "You'd have been wasted on my father " Tak- ^r Ihand m his own "Just as you've been wasted on John " away at 'S dangerous talk," Isabelle said coolly But she did not pull 'humb 'v111? He turned ner hand over' tracked her life-line with his ^°w is it th* rC S° V6ry beautlfu1'far more beautiful than I remembered at John has not locked you away from the world7 I'd have

  426 H 427 thought he'd sequester you behind the highest walls, veil you l,ke , Sar^dl0eTened her mouth to say John trusted her, that she'd never given him cause for jealousy. Instead she heard herself say softly, ^ that what you'd do if I were your woman.Hugh. "Tf you were my woman ... ne eenucu, « o ueQ moment the game-plying was forgotten. Isabelle was accustomed ,0 Turt flotations. She was both flattered and amused that men mvanaH, ound her so desirable, but it was never more than a harmless divers^ he never forgot where the boundary lines were drawn, had never beer, empTed to cross over. She was shaken now by what was happen** wufHugh de Lusignan, shaken to realize that she was respondmg to This man*, smile, to his ^J^^^^ browned fingers caressing her own, ana men jc f°rC1 dabrnesaey oThts might think this a rather peculiar conversation fe -^^^^^^^^^^' ^r^t^ "I'm afraid the mother is already spoken for, Hugh she^nurmuM taking refuge in flippancy, while ^£«jdi out, *°£ of his mouth with her fingers^ She fought the u ge P tightly clasped in her lap, and then a shadow fell between turned, saw her husband standing several feet away. "John!" Isabelle was on her feet before she could reahze m have done better to remain sitting. Hugh's ^^^1, five; he, too, sprang up, backed away from sabell-^garsmust her poise first, summoned a dazzling smile. John, love, you be burning, for we were just talking about you^ Ws ^ To her relief, John returned her smile. She movedI hastty linked her arm through his. "I remember you tellmg W*^ us to call you Johnny-cat. Now I can d*«d"$ I J£ tfkM too as quietly as any cat could, made no sound at all! She suddenly Jch and too fast, but she could not help herse^e^flyand panicked at the prospect of silence, and she ^"ered on ^ ]oh aimlessly for several moments, while Hugh shi ted ^'^ Hu? listened with an indulgent smile. After an '"terminable ,, mumbled an excuse, made a swift departure. Only the garden with John, did Isabelle begin to relax. IsabeUe 8 "So you were talking about me? What were you.vq**^ }^ "Oh . . . nothing out of the ordinary, love. We talKe the betrothal, and" Isabelle cried out as John grasped her wnst, jerke her roughly toward him. , John had been neither surprised nor perturbed when he saw tt g^

  abusive husbands, wondering; how ^ could be so lacking in pride. But she had never been hurt betore,^ never been subjected to violence of any kind. Now she wep sou lessly, flinching as he stepped toward her. "Why are you so a"SrYalways flirt with me; it means nothing. You know that, John, have minded before." "Mayhap I should have." , , ta Isabelle forgot her pain in a sudden surge of fear. ' My <-oo j , *hat are you saying? Surely you do not th
ink I've been *rtW Isabelle forgot her pain in a sudden surge ot tear, my " *hat are you saying? Surely you do not think I've been unfartW* you? Never, John, neverI swear on our children's very lives! Youmust believe me!" "">" ore you saying.' burely you do not thin* i vc - you? Never, John, neverI swear on our children's very lives! Youmust believe me!" ?wh "Must I? Why? Why should you not have betrayed me, too? Y °uld YOU be any different from the others?" ,,. , i,I . * T iiy ; T » 11 y &IIUU1Q yUU HUlllM*"- --- J n°"ld you be any different from the others?" , j ^ Isabelle was terrified. "I WOuld never betray you, never. John, ear it. I'd have to be an utter fool to take such a risk!" SJe saw his mouth twist, and realized she'd blundered ftjwas n0t *hat he wanted to hear. He was turning away, and she stumbled to