Here Be Dragons - 1 (42 page)

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reticence about his daughter's love life. It amused Isabelle in no all measure, but the lesson was not lost upon her. Seeing now that Richard was regarding her with uncomprehending curiosity, she gave him a meaningless smile, having no intention of enlightening him, for , her lights, secrets shared in bed did not count and her faith still remained unbroken.
John moved away from the cradle, settled himself comfortably in n cushioned window seat. "Do not keep me in suspense, Richard. What unpronounceable Welsh name did Llewelyn inflict upon that innocent babe?"
"Elen, which is Welsh for Helen."
John pondered that for a moment and then conceded, "Well, I grant you it could be worse. But is it true that Llewelyn is making Joanna learn that lunatic language of his?"
Richard laughed, before realizing that his father was not joking. "I do believe it was Joanna's idea, Papa," he said mildly, and John frowned.
"Indeed? It's well and good to be a dutiful wife, but..."
"Dutiful wife?" Richard echoed, much amused. "Papa, Joanna does"
"John, love, did you not say you'd promised to spare some moments for Abbot
Walter ere we sup?" Isabelle's intercession was adroitly done, her query conveying no more than a commendable wifely concern. But Richard was not slow;
he gave his stepmother a probing look, then wandered over to the cradle to study his baby brother.
John was in no hurry to depart; it was some moments before he reluctantly went off in search of the Abbot. As soon as the door closed behind him, Richard demanded, "Why did you cut me short like that, Isabelle?"
"Because, my dearest, you were about to say that Joanna is hopelessly besotted with her husband ... or words to that effect, were you not?"
"And if I was? It is true enough, after all."
"Of course it is true. But to say so would have done neither John nor Joanna a kindness, and least of all Llewelyn."
Richard started to protest, stopped, and reflected upon what she seemed to be saying. Isabelle was only a year older than he, and when he'd first begun to feel the sexual stirrings of manhood, he had, for a nme of brief and exquisite torment, believed himself to be in love with nis father's beautiful wife. So shamed had he been by these wayward yearnings that he'd fought them the only way he knew how, by scornlng the object of his sinful lust, by convincing himself that Isabelle was a nv°lous little fool, vain and flighty. As an amputation of the soul, it

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proved to be an effective if drastic cure, and in time he'd outgrown both the desire and the disdain. Within the past year or so, he'd found his sense of perspective returning, and he was once again able to look up0n his stepmother without distortion, to see her for what she was and what she was not.
It would never occur to him to discuss with Isabelle the ramifications of
John's ongoing quarrel with the Pope. Richard well knew that Isabelle gave little thought to the threat of Interdict and excommunication. But Isabelle knew his father as no one else did, was the first woman to hold his affections, in and out of bed. That was no small feat; it earned her the right to be heard, and he said, "Why do you say that, Isabelle? Papa wants Joanna to be happy; surely you do not doubt that?"
"Yes, he does," she agreed indulgently. "He wants her to be safe and cared for and content. He does not want her to be utterly and passionately in love with
Llewelyn ab lorwerth. Ah, Richard, do you know your father as little as that?
Do you not know that John needs ever to come first with those who love him? Is that so surprising? Why do you think John did not attend Joanna's wedding? Oh, I know the reasons he gave why he could not. But if he'd truly wanted to be there, he would have been. He did not, and so he was not."
Joining Richard by the cradle, she began to rock it gently back and forth.
"Trust me, Richard, in this. Do not speak to John of Joanna's abiding love for
Llewelyn; he does not want to hear it. I think Joanna must sense that, for her letters to him are unlike those to me. To me alone does she go on at length about the unlikely perfections of her Welsh Prince." She laughed suddenly, giving Richard a look that was amused and affectionate and faintly flirtatious. "If he is half as good as she thinks, she's found herself a rare man indeed, one well worth the keeping! Now tell me . . . we know Joanna's heart. But what of Llewelyn? You've seen them together, Richard; does he love her?"
"That is a woman's question if ever I heard one! How would I be likely to know that, Isabelle? I can only tell you that he seems fond enough of her." Richard paused, considering. "He has a hunting lodge at Trefriw in the River Conwy valley. The nearest church is at Rhychwyn, about a two-mile walk up a mountain path too steep for horses, and when Llewelyn learned Joanna was with child, he ordered a church built at Trefriw to spare her that walk."
"He loves her, then," Isabelle declared with satisfaction, and Richard hid a smile, for he'd known she would be quickest to comprehend tangible expressions of caring.
"Madame?" One of Isabelle's ladies stood in the doorway. "Ma" dame, the Lady
Margaret de Lacy is without, seeks some moments w»tn you."
A
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Isabella's face was suddenly still, remote. "No," she said. "I do not wish to see her."
As the woman withdrew, Richard gave Isabelle a pensive look. Like st people at
John's court, he had been shocked by William de Brae's abrupt and unexpected fall from favor. The purported reason for the estrangement between John and de
Braose was money; de Braose wed the crown a considerable sum, for in 1201 John had allowed de Braose to purchase the Irish honour of Limerick for five thousand marks, yet de Braose had unaccountably ignored the set schedule for payment, paying only a meagre hundred marks to date upon the debt. John had suddenly demanded payment in full, and when de Braose was unable or unwilling to comply, he found himself in political limbo, no longer welcome at John's court.
Richard did not doubt that Margaret de Lacy was here on her father's behalf, but what interested him now was the finality in Isabelle's refusal. Although she rarely interceded with John on behalf of petitioners, she generally accorded them a careless courtesy, was willing to hear them out. That she would deny Margaret de Lacy even the briefest audience was in itself significant to Richard, told him that de Braose was in much deeper disgrace than he'd realized.
There could be only one logical explanation for this surprising rupture of a relationship that had endured for fully half of Richard's lifetime, an explanation to be found within the shadowed silence of Rouen Castle. Richard was sure that Arthur was the key to the mystery of de Braose's downfall. Just as de Braose was the key to Arthur's disappearance.
Richard was, even at eighteen, a realist. He loved his father, but it had been more than four years since any man had laid eyes upon Arthur. Now he hesitated, but the temptation was irresistible. "Isabelle, have you never asked Papa about Arthur?"
"Jesu, no!" She was looking at him as if he were mad. "Indeed I have not!"
"But are you not curious? Do you never wonder, never want to know the truth of it?"
"No," she said flatly. "I do not wonder. I do not ask." The blue eyes were guarded, almost hostile. "I do not want to know."

22
ABER, NORTH WALES
March uoB
I
LN Llewelyn's absence, Joanna had presided over the evening meal in the great hall. Now servants had dismantled the trestle tables, and she'd seated herself upon the dais, was making a request that Llywarch sing for them. Her halting
Welsh grated unbearably against Gruffydd's ear. He hated how she mangled his language, hated her alien French accent, hated the way her clumsy efforts won his father's uncritical praise.
Feeling a tug at his sleeve, Gruffydd looked down, saw his little sister
Marared holding out a thick strip of leather. "My dog's collar," she explained. "Make it fit tighter, Gruffydd." He obligingly cut another hole with his eating knife, and she went off, content. Gruffydd waited a few moments, and then moved casually in the direction of the hearth, stopping before the cradle. Seeing that no one was watching him, he leaned over, stared down at his baby sister.
He'd expected to hate her as he hated her mother. But each time he looked at her, he felt only relief, only an intense, abiding thankfulness that Joanna had not given birth to a son. For nine years he had been Llewelyn's only son and heir; the birth, three years ago, of his brother Tegwared had been a severe shock to Gruffydd. But Tegwared did not live at Llewelyn's court, was born of a concubine, and Gruffydd na gradually come around to a grudging acceptance of Cristyn's son. J anna's son would be a far greater threat, a far more dangerous nv although Welsh law did not distinguish between legitimate and u'e& mate offspring, Holy Church did, would have to favor a child born wedlock. If that woman ever bore Papa a son, he might lose all, ev Papa's love. ue
Gruffydd drew an uneven breath, tried to fight back his fear- ^ knew she would poison Papa's mind against him if she could- °

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have more faith in Papa He had to Suddenly warned by a ha sense awareness, he raised his head For the span of several hostile tbeats, his eyes held Joanna's, and then she looked away Hot color ded Gruffydd's face He'd seen her look at him that way before v time he came within two feet of Elen Damn her, did she think
6V d ever hurt a baby7 He reached defiantly for the rattle, held it within pi n's range of vision Elen was his sister, was not to blame for her
{rnan blood, and he would somehow see that she was raised right, ed Welsh He'd not let that foreign woman win
"Take care, Gruffydd Yours is too easy a face to read," a voice cautioned behind him, and he spun around to face two of Ednyved's sons, Hvwel and Tudur
Tudur was the same age as Gruffydd, they'd both celebrated their twelfth birthdays within the past week Hywel was two vears older, was the one who'd spoken
"So7 As long as I am not rude to her, what right has she to cornplain7 She cannot fault me for what I m thinking at least not yet " Across the hall, Joanna was thanking Llywarch, and as Gruffydd listened, his mouth twisted scornfully "Did you ever hear anyone sound so peculiar7 She makes a mockery of our tongue every time she opens her mouth1"
Tudur gave a sympathetic nod, but Hywel shrugged "I seem to remember you blaming her last year because she insisted upon speaking only French "
Gruffydd's eyes narrowed "Elen was named after one of the most celebrated of
Welsh heroines, the Elen of the Hosts acclaimed in the Triads But do you think she knows that7 That she even knows what the Triads are7 She asked Papa one question only, what Elen meant in Norman-French1"
"I do not deny that she is ignorant of our history, of our ways," Hywel conceded, then jerked his head in the direction of the Lady Gwenlhan "But I'd still trade our stepmother for yours any day1"
'That shows how little you know, does it not7" Gruffydd snapped, and Hywel's good humor vanished For a moment the two boys glared at °ne another, although Hywel had the advantage in years, Gruffydd
*as only an inch shorter than he, and in their one brawl a few months ack' they'd fought to a bloody draw Now Hywel was the first to look
Have it your own way Why should I care7"
few turned on his heel, but his brother caught up with him after a m h^8'
S31C* Placatlngly, "Do not be angry, Hywel Gruffydd's been \ou ad,mood these past days Lord Llewelyn did forget his birthday, i see' Hywel paused, willing to be mollified, and Tudur lowered his voice,

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said in confidential tones, "All Friday Gruffydd did expect a courier come, and when none did, he was sorely hurt. He sought to hide it, j, all could see it plain in his face, and the Lady Joanna . . . well, she
Just made things worse. She tried to make excuses for Lord Llewelyn, t0ij Gruffydd how busy his father was, how preoccupied with Gwenwyn wyn's border raids.
Gruffydd was wild, as wroth as I've ever seen him But he dared not say anything to her, not after Lord Llewelyn warned him to mend his manners, to show her respect. So you did touch a raw spot with him, and that's why he flared up."
"But why did her remarks anger Gruffydd so? It sounds as if she meant well."
"Mayhap she did. But there were others around, and Gruffy^ thought she was deliberately calling it to our attention, that his father had forgotten him.
And I know he much resented her offering apologies in Lord Llewelyn's name, saying she had no right, that his father did not need her to make amends for him. I can understand that, Hywel, in truth I can. Would you want our lady stepmother to make excuses to us for Papa?"
"No," Hywel admitted. "I would not. If Gruffydd Tudur? You hear the dogs?"
Tudur nodded, and turning, he yelled, "Gruffydd! I think your lord father has ridden in."
Gruffydd was already moving eagerly toward the door. But Joanna was closer and, as Llewelyn strode into the hall, she reached him first, flung herself into his arms. Gruffydd stopped abruptly, watched as Llewelyn and Joanna embraced, watched as Joanna then took Llewelyn's arm, pulled him toward the cradle. As if he had no other children, Gruffydd thought bitterly. Joanna was claiming most of Llewelyn's attention, holding up their baby for his inspection, and Gruffydd's sisters, Marared and Gwladys and Gwenllian, were clamoring, too, for notice. It was some moments, therefore, before Llewelyn missed his son.
He found Gruffydd leaning against one of the wooden screens that blocked off the side aisle, moved toward the boy with a smile. "Have you no greeting for me, lad?"
"Indeed, Papa. Welcome home," Gruffydd said, quite coolly- But when he saw his father's smile fade, he was caught up in a welter of painful and confusing emotions, no longer sure why he'd wanted to punish Llewelyn, for having forgotten his birthday or for loving King John's daughter.
"Are you angry with me, Gruffydd?" Llewelyn studied his son/ and then grinned.
"I see. You think I did forget your birthday again. NO this time, lad. Come, see for yourself."
Men with torches stood outside in the bailey, and when Gruffyd

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,vhat was evoking their admiring murmurs, his breath caught in his oat The stallion was young, a pure milky white, the luckiest of col-
and bred for speed Gruffydd whirled to face his father, entreating, °5a'y he's mine, Papa'"
"You surely do not think he's for Elen, do you7 But he's newly bro, fl to the saddle, so take it slow " Llewelyn's cautionary words were , st Gruffydd was already reaching for the reins The stallion bucked halfheartedly under his weight, and Gruffydd guided him in a semicircle/ grinned back over his shoulder at Llewelyn
"He's begging to run, Papa1"
"Do not give him his head till you reach the shore And remember
I paid a fortune for him, so if you have to break a neck, better yours than his1" Llewelyn laughed, and the wind carried back to him the answenng echoes of his son's laughter
Still laughing, Llewelyn reentered the hall, looked around for his wife "Where did Joanna go7"
"To put your little Elen to bed " Ednyved pulled a chair closer to the hearth, and Llewelyn sank down gratefully in it, pushed away the more importunate of his dogs
He'd been gone for a fortnight, a guest of his cousin Madog ap Gruffydd, Prince of Upper Powys, and because Powys shared a border with Cheshire, Llewelyn was at once bombarded with questions about the two topics currently dominating English conversations the threat of a papal Interdict and William de Braose's fall from favor
"I heard nothing new about John's quarrel with the Pope It does seem to be a standoff, the Pope's man wears the mitre of Canterbury, but dares not set foot in England " Llewelyn accepted a cup of mead, drank, and said, "But I did hear something interesting about de Braose His friends and family have prevailed upon John to grant him an audience, they are to meet at Hereford on the twenty-fifth of April Not that I think it'll do him much good There are few ruptures so bitter as a falling-out amongst thieves "
"What do you think be behind it, Llewelyn7 It cannot truly be the money, de
Braose has owed that for years "
"This is just a guess, Rhys But I think de Braose pushed his luck °nce too often The more John gave him, the more he wanted I heard "e d been pressuring
John for an earldom, and I think John finally ran °u' of patience Either that or de Braose went too far, moved from imP'led to explicit extortion, mayhap made an out-and-out threat about "tat he knew of Arthur's death "
"I've never been able to understand why they did not give Arthur Ven a sham trial," Adda confessed "Men might not have liked it much, "* John had the law on his side By resorting to a secret killing, he