Here Be Dragons - 1

by Sharon Kay Penman

  528 "I would indeed!" Joanna guided her mare closer to Llewelyn "May I take Davydd and Elen?" And when he nodded, she experienced a surge of heartfelt happiness. "I'm very fond of Henry. There's sweetness about him, a vulnerability that can be quite touching. I see j him Isabelle's extravagance and generosity, her love of surprises and compliments and secrets. But I can find in him nothing of my father. Tell me, Llewelyn, what sort of King do you think he'll make?" "I agree with you that he's a likable lad. But he has two traits that do not augur well for kingship. He is rather timid, and yet inflexible, too loath to compromise. In truth, I do not think he'll make a good King for the English. He may well, however, prove to be a very good Kmg in. deed for Wales." Joanna joined in his laughter. "I suspect," she said, "that you intrigue even in your sleep. I know you truly do like Henry, but you're deliberately cultivating his goodwill, too. Sometimes you look at him as if he were a fallow field, just waiting for your plow!" Llewelyn grinned, did not deny it. They had just crossed through the arched gateway into the inner bailey of the castle, and Llewelyn himself helped Joanna to dismount. "I do not tell you nearly as often as I ought," he murmured, "but you hold my heart." She gave him so loving a look that he almost kissed her right then and there. "Come on," he said, taking her arm, "lest these English think I'm besotted with my own wife!" Davydd was waiting for them upon the steps of the great hall. He had spent the night with Henry at the castle, and Llewelyn's smile faded at sight of him, for he could not help thinking of his other son, the son who would have socialized with the English King only at swordpomt Davydd looked troubled. "Something is wrong," he said. AS they entered the great hall, Llewelyn paused to greet Pandulf, who d recently replaced Guala as the papal legate, and Stephen Langton, K stored to favor by the new Pope; as Archbishop of Canterbury, it was he who would crown Henry eleven days hence. Llewelyn addressed w prelates with marked respect, as genuine men of God. He did not ^ the urbane, luxury-loving Bishop of Winchester in the same esteem/ Peter des Roches was deserving of notice, too, if for altogether d« reasons. With Pembroke dead and Chester still on crusade, P£'er ^ Roches was undeniably the most powerful man in England, with the most influence upon the young King. ^ j|,am Peter was flanked by Hubert de Burgh, the Justiciar, and ^. Marshal, who'd succeeded his father as Earl of Pembroke. HIS &^$. to Llewelyn was noticeably cool; the Pembroke holdings in Sou

  T 529 Were extensive and it was inevitable that the youn* Earl wh the statesman his late father had been shouW f , ,u W3S not Llewelyn's growing power. L] ^S^ ^-d by before saying to Peter, "My son tells mP a V7 u ln return' from the Queen." 7 * me a dlst^bmg letter has come Pembroke was affronted that Llpwph K i j < in affairs of the crown. But he was noHn h f * S° *"t0 med* he'd been one of those lord whol^n?;*^'5*' for Llewelyn was brother-in-law to the Kine H J f°r L°Uis' while prised, therefore, when Peter desR^' ^ aggrieved but not *ura right to know. R°CheS reSP°nded if Llewelyn had .H^^^n^ zzs^^*^?^^^ ^^^^:^ frthe Hoiy L- h- eldest son and Joanna's half-b'Lr Sef a^t?' ^ ?Uin°y 9nd his ^^^^::^^^"^^^ «^^£^^*;' ** said. ", ter's betrothed!" 8 Lusignan's son, her daugh- .oi."^::^"1 iust in" "> « ^ tap-*-* ,. 5^53^?^^^: ;^5?i^£Ss^it3s5 N ^°"y would have been l"t Wh y°UrKand °Ur lands in Poitou "^ssaS^^^is: arcne, and let Heaven witness that we did this

  530 rather for your benefit than for our own. Wherefore we ask you, as our dear son, to be pleased with this, as it greatly profits you and yours.'" Joanna raised her eyes from the letter, saw her husband struggling not to laugh, and she smiled ruefully. "She is not very convincing, js she? Isabelle, the martyred mother, bravely sacrificing herself for her son's sake. The rest of the letter asks Henry to give them her dower castles of Niort, Exeter, and Rockingham, and three thousand five hundred marks she says my father bequeathed to her." "Does she mention her daughter at all?" Joanna scanned the letter again. "At the end. She says she and Hugh will send Joanna back to England if Henry desires it. Llewelyn .. I just remembered something very intriguing. When I last saw Isabelle, she spoke very kindly of this same Hugh de Lusignan, sounded as if he'd already made quite an impression upon her." "Mayhap he had," Llewelyn said dryly, "but she's been back in Angouleme for two years now, and you notice she did not marry him until his father died, until he became the new Count of La Marche. Our Isabelle might look like gossamer and gold dust, but when it comes to practicality, she'd put a French peasant to shame." "Nonetheless, I mean to cling to my romantic illusions," Joanna said and laughed. "What's more, I wish Isabelle well, hope she finds contentment in her new marriage." "I wonder what the Pope will make of it. Isabelle was plight-trothed to Hugh's father, and Hugh to Isabelle's daughter. The truth, breila does that not sound somewhat incestuous?" But Joanna was no longer listening to his banter, for Henry had just entered the hall. HENRY turned as Joanna joined him in the window recess. He was an attractive youngster, with his mother's striking blue eyes; they were reddened now, suspiciously swollen. "You heard?" he mumbled, ana Joanna took a sister's liberty, kissed him sympathetically upon the cheek. "I know it was a shock, dearest. But it was only to be expected that your mother would one day wed again. She's been a widow for m than three years, and although thirty-two doubtless seems ancient tr your vantage point, she ought to have many years ahead or ^ - ^ KO i,-,r,piv nr emotv, Henry, 1 know , your vantage point, she ought o nave ^ ^ , knOw You'd not want those years to be lonely or empty, Henry, would not." _ ^^OA his tears, t>u a IlUl wain, vii^j^- j - "rdo no, »a, Hen^a^ - ^> "You do not understand." Henry nau uict-^c^ * voice still quavered. "Do you not see what this marriage means, J° Now Mama will never come home."

  537 ]M the early years of the twelfth century, the English King had encouraged the settlement of large numbers of Flemings in South Wales. The settlements thrived, and in time Dyfed lost much of its Welsh character; VVelsh was no longer spoken there, and the area came to be known as "Little England beyond Wales." There was much bitterness between the displaced native-born Welsh and the Flemings, and the Welsh had been complaining to Llewelyn that the Flemings were burning their churches and running off their cattle. Llewelyn was quite willing to intervene on behalf of his countrymen, to punish the Flemish intruders, for that was how he viewed them. That the Flemings were tenants of the new Earl of Pembroke had not escaped his attention, either. On August 16, Llewelyn was waiting in the city of Chester to welcome the Earl of Chester home from the crusade. Just a few days later, Llewelyn led an army south into Dyfed. Accompanied by most of the Welsh Princes, he destroyed the castles of Narbeth and Wiston, burned the town of Haverford, and did extensive damage to the Earl of Pembroke's lands in Rhos. Pembroke vowed vengeance, but for the time being he was unable to act upon his anger, and the Welsh Prince's year closed in triumph. But Gruffydd and his wife and infant son had withdrawn from Llewelyn's court, and Gruffydd still spurned all of Llewelyn's attempts at reconciliation. ABER, NORTH WALES Juty 1221 $ , IVHYS, Adda, and Morgan were seated at the fjh table in the great hall of Llewelyn's palace at Aber. Llewelyn had lot ^7 returned from Shrewsbury, where, meeting with the young En^ King and the papal legate Pandulf, he'd agreed to a truce with the Pembroke and Reginald de Braose. It was a truce none expected

  532 to last; the interests of the Welsh Prince and the Marcher border lords were too antithetical to reconcile for long. In Llewelyn's absence, Adda was accorded the place of honor, but he'd barely touched the food ladled onto his trencher. Neither Rhys nor Morgan had much appetite, either. "Are you sure we ought to wait till Llewelyn returns frorn Shrewsbury?" Adda nodded. "We can be that merciful at least, can give him a few more days ere he has to know about Gruffydd." Rhys could not quarrel with that. Picking up a piece of bread, he occupied himself in cleaning his knife for the next course. "I still do not understand why Llewelyn took his wife with him. A council chamber is no fit place for a woman." "Llewelyn thinks otherwise," Morgan said composedly. "He told me he felt certain he would benefit from her presence at Shrewsbury, even saidonly half in jestthat he considers Joanna his ambassador to the English court." Rhys looked rather skeptical,
but then he startled them by saying, "I would that I'd gone to Shrewsbury, too, with Llewelyn and Ednyved." It had been more than six years since Llewelyn had chosen Ednyved to replace the ailing Gwyn ab Ednewain as his Seneschal, and Ednyved had made the most of the opportunity; he'd become Llewelyn's mainstay, wielding far more political power than his predecessor. But Rhys had never before given the slightest sign of jealousy, given any indication that he nurtured political ambitions of his own or begrudged Ednyved his ascending star, and Morgan and Adda were not sure now whether his remark was an oblique admission of envy for his cousin's privileged position. Rhys was unmindful of their speculative looks. He swallowed a mouthful of gingered carp before concluding morosely, "If I had, I'd not yet know about Gruffydd, would not be sitting here wondering how to tell Llewelyn that his son is in rebellion against him." "YOU'RE sure it was Gruffydd? There can be no mistake?" Llewelyn's voice was quite even, but Morgan was not deceived; he found it very hard to continue, to take away Llewelyn's last shred ol hope. "A fortnight ago Gruffydd led an army from Ardudwy into &' fionydd. Our people took refuge in Cricieth Castle, and he swung sou into Lleyn, burned your manor at Pwllheli. Before retreating in Meirionydd, he crossed into Arfon, harassed the monks at Beddgeie when they balked at emptying their larders for his men."

  533 Adda rarely laid his emotions open for others to see. But he'd loved Gruffydd too much to be dispassionate now. "There is no mistake, Lle^glyn. Gruffydd is known on sight throughout most of Gwynedd. JvOr did he seek to conceal his identity. To the contrary, he flaunted his banners for all to see. He wanted you to know, Llewelyn, went to some pains to make sure you would." Llewelyn turned toward Ednyved. "I want a courier to depart at dawn for Meirionydd. He is to tell Gruffydd that I command him to appear before my court to answer for his actions." Ednyved nodded, then gave Llewelyn the only comfort he had to offerprivacy. Adda and Morgan followed him from the chamber, leaving Joanna in a quandary. Her every instinct counseled her to remain, but she was at an utter loss for words. Gruffyddno less than Johnhad always been an exceedingly dangerous subject, to be broached only with the utmost caution. "Do you think Gruffydd will obey your summons?" "No," Llewelyn said, "I do not." "Then ..." Joanna paused. "What will you do, beloved?" At first she thought Llewelyn did not intend to answer. He moved away from her, stood for some moments staring at her newest acquisition, a wall hanging of heavy linen embroidered in brilliant shades of worsted yarn. "You look at that hanging and what do you see, Joanna? Unicorns and birds of paradise, Eden. But up close the pattern becomes thousands of individual threads. Pull just a few, and the entire pattern can unravel." "I do not understand what you are saying, Llewelyn." "Authority is no different, unravels just as easily. Men obey me for a number of reasons, one of which is that they fear the consequences if they do not." "You're telling me that you cannot afford to let Gruffydd's raiding go unpunished. But can you do that, Llewelyn? Can you truly make war uPon your own son?" "I do not know," he admitted. "And that is what frightens me so, 'oanna. I just do not know." ' RDINJG the River Mawddach at Cymmer Abbey, Llewelyn led his men utn' They were deep in Meirionydd now, having reached the mile- Slake called Llyn Myngul. It was a beautiful valley, but narrow and P< and although Llewelyn's scouts had been able to allay his fears of ^ Us"' he was relieved nonetheless as they left the lake behind, ed onto more open ground.

  534 "Did I ever tell you about the time I clifimbed Cader Idris?" Ednyved gestured toward the towering summit orm their right. "There's a lake hidden away up there as dark as ink, and lo-ocal folk say it has no bottom say that a creature of terrifying mien lurUks in its depths. Mind you, never saw it myself, but..." Llewelyn turned in the saddle. His evyes rested for a long moment upon the other man, a plain face made nwiore so by a disfiguring scar, a familiar face showing little of the sharpo, pragmatic intelligence that made his advice so valuable, his friendshijp so dear. Llewelyn knew that Ednyved's son Tudur was one of Gruffydod's most trusted companions He knew, too, that Ednyved had been uiinable to track down Tudur's whereabouts, might well find him with Gruffydd. And yet he'd said nothing of his own anxiety, instead had bbeen doing his utmost to keep Llewelyn from dwelling upon the comings confrontation. You are indeed the friend lauded inn Scriptures, he who sticketh closer than a brother. But Llewelyn daredB not say it aloud, lest his emotions break free. He had twenty-five yearrs of memories he must somehow keep at bay, memories that stretcheod from Gruffydd's first spoken word to his last choked "Rot in Hell." "Look!" Ednyved pointed, but Llewvelyn already saw; one of their scouts was coming up from the southwesst, coming fast. "They've gathered near Craig Ader^yn," he gasped out as soon as he was within hearing range. "I saw - your son's banners, my lord They're waiting for us, waiting to do batt-tle." CRAIG Aderyn was a breeding ground fifor peregrine falcons, and the were circling overhead, airborne and umcaring witnesses to the human drama about to be enacted below them. From time to time a man would glance upward, as if wondering what th»e sleek birds of prey portended Tudur suspected that to many, the falcorns seemed suddenly as unlucb as ravens, feathered omens of ill fortune. Warfare as they knew it usually consisted of raids and siege' Pitched battles were a rarity, and as he- moved among the men, Tudi could sense their unease. But it was m»ore, he knew, than their lack < battlefield experience. Although Gruffy.dd was their lord, Llewelyn ** their Prince. Most of them felt very strongly that Gruffydd had bee grievously wronged. Few of them were eager, however, to take up a against a man who was already becoming something of a legend m own lifetime. , j Moreover, this war had split famili- es asunder. Tudur and Gru 5^ were not the only ones facing blood ki-n across a battlefield, and ^ was not alone in his dread of what was to come. He felt torn m W '

  535 he was not here now in Gruffydd's encampment by choice It was simply that he had not known how to tell Gruffydd that he wanted no part in Gruffydd's war "Amlyn, ought we not to say a prayer ere the battle begins ask God's blessing upon us7" The other man nodded "Tudur, I do not like this, not at all I just tried to talk to Gruffydd, but I do not think he heard a word I said He's acting right strange, Tudur Not once did he take his eyes from Llewelyn's banner, not once " Gruffydd was astride his favorite destrier, a black stallion so temperamental that none but he could ride it The horse bared its teeth now at Tudur's approach, and Tudur's mount shied away "Gruffydd7 Gruffydd, we have to talk whilst there's time Do you still want Amlyn to lead the vanguard7" He waited, and then repeated, more urgently, "Gruffydd do you not hear me7 Gruffydd, answer me1" Even then, Gruffydd did not respond, not until Tudur reached out, grabbed his arm Gruffydd's stallion reared, and he reined it in a semicircle until he'd gotten it back under control His face was drained of all color, Tudur had never seen him look so shaken "Gruffydd, what is it7" "I cannot do this, Tudur " Gruffydd's mouth twisted "God help me, but I cannot'" And with that, he suddenly spurred his horse forward, ignoring Tudur's shocked protest, the baffled cries of his men As if racing his own regrets, he set the stallion at a dead run toward his father's camp "I lewelyn1" Llewelyn was conferring with two of his captains, spun around at Ednyved's shout All around him men were pointing, staring at the lone nder galloping toward them Ednyved was now at Llewelyn's side he, 'oo, had recognized Gruffydd, and he said hastily, "Do not do anything rash, Llewelyn Make sure it is not a trick of some kind " But Llewelyn was not listening He'd already turned, was swinging JPmto the saddle "Hold our men here," he said, then gave his stallion lts "ead, rode out to meet his son "hen Gruffydd was fifty yards away, Llewelyn reined in his unt, waited for his son to come to him Gruffydd had some trouble in PP'ng his horse He'd always had a heavy hand, in his agitation to° hard upon the reins and the stallion reared up again, sending and clods of grass flying , assume you want to talk " Llewelyn was startled at the sound of l,]s assume you want to talk " Llewelyn was startled at the sound of L n voice, it sounded so cold and unyielding, revealed nothing of nner turmoil

  536 I Gruffydd had acted on impulse, had not thought out what he wanted to say. He could only blurt out th
e truth. "I thought I could fight you, Papa. I truly did." "And now you cannot?" "No." Gruffydd shook his head helplessly. "I saw your banners and I knew ..." Unsure what to do next, he slid from the saddle, waited as Llewelyn dismounted, too. Although they were now close enough to touch, still the words would not come. Gruffydd was well aware of the magnitude of his offense, but he was not able to humble himself, not even now, with so much at stake. He slowly unsheathed his sword, held it out toward Llewelyn. "I submit myself unto your will, Papa," he said, in unconscious echo of Llewelyn's own submission to John at Aberconwy, adding tautly, "What mean you to do?" Llewelyn took the sword, and then handed it back. "I mean," he said, "to forgive you," and Gruffydd's pride dissolved in a surge of anguished emotion. "Christ, Papa, I'm sorry. I never wanted it to come to this, I swear it." "Neither did I, Gruffydd." And stepping forward, Llewelyn embraced his son, while hearing the distant shouts of both armies, the reprieved cheering of brothers and cousins spared a war none of them had truly wanted. LLEWELYN'S encampment at Llyn Myngul was a scene of reunions and rejoicing. Campfires flared like beacons in the dark, and the summer wind carried the sounds of singing for miles as the two armies mingled, celebrated far into the night. Ednyved had been looking for Llewelyn for some time, at last found him walking alone by the lakeside. It was a night of rare beauty; the sky was filled with stars, and the placid waters of the lake reflected an infinity of shimmering pinpoint lights, the luminous sheen of a crescent moon. But Llewelyn appeared oblivious to his surroundings. He seemed deep in thought, started visibly as Ednyved came up beside him. "Will Gruffydd come back with us to your court?" Llewelyn nodded. "Yes. We talked about it and he's agreed to return. I do not plan to leave Meirionydd yet, though. I want to do some further scouting in the Dysynni Valley, look for a suitable site for castle." Ednyved was quick to comprehend. "I see. You mean, then, tor claim Meirionydd and Ardudwy."