Here Be Dragons - 1 (45 page)

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SHREWSBURY, ENGLAND
October 120&
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kJooN after Maude de Braose publicly accused John of murder, William de Braose and his sons made a desperate attempt to regain possession of the castles de
Braose had surrendered to John. Failing in these assaults, they plundered and burned the market town of Leominster. John proclaimed de Braose a traitor to the crown, and on September 29 he freed de Braose's vassals from all allegiance to their fugitive lord.
Gwenwynwyn, Prince of Lower Powys, at once sought to take advantage of the resulting chaos by launching raids upon the de Braose lands and those of neighboring Norman lords. John responded with more force than the Welsh Prince could hope to equal. The two agreed to meet at Shrewsbury to discuss peace terms.
SHREWSBURY Castle had been held by the crown for more than two hundred years, and the great hall had been rebuilt in stone by John's father. John's son was thinking of that as they awaited the arrival of the Welsh Prince, wondering if his grandfather would have done what John meant to do. Probably so, Richard decided; his father's lessons in cynical statecraft had been learned under
Henry's tutelage.
Now he glanced about the hall, at the other men: Ranulf de Blundeville, Earl of Chester; Thomas Erdington, Sheriff of Shropshire; Lord Robert Corbet and his son Thomas; Robert de Montalt. There was no one else in the hall; Chester had cleared it of retainers, servants, ana men-at-arms. Richard knew why, knew
Chester was seeking to ma*6 Gwenwynwyn's capitulation as painless as possible.
No easy task, giye the surprise they were about to spring upon him. But he gave Ches credit for trying; tact was an attribute Richard appreciated.

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Richard had only recently joined the knights of Chester's houseId but the past weeks had caused him to revise his earlier unfavoruie opinion of the Earl He was not a particularly likable man, was of a erved and taciturn nature, but he was an astute judge of character, hrewd and surprisingly subtle, and he had soon won Pilchard's respect Richard knew this coming confrontation with
Gwenwynwyn had to be wkward for Chester, the two men had once been allies But nothing showed in Chester's face or demeanor There was in his manner only the dispassionate resolve of a man set upon doing his duty, upon carrying out the
King's command however little he might like it pochard wondered if the Corbets shared Chester's reluctance to do what John wanted done Theirs was an even more awkward position, for Gwenwynwyn had taken
Robert Corbet's daughter to wife But they'd voiced no protests, raised no objections With the fate of William de Braose still uppermost in all their minds, few of John's barons were eager to incur his displeasure in this, the tenth year of his reign
"Pilchard7" Thomas Corbet was looming over him Without waiting to be asked, he sprawled down beside Pilchard in the window seat Richard retreated as far as he was able, but not in time to avoid Thomas's elbow in his ribs He was not comfortable with such close physical proximity, even with those he liked, and he did not like Thomas Corbet For all his self-professed contempt for
Llewelyn, Thomas was showing himself quite willing to trade upon Llewelyn's marital connection with the crown and his own tenuous connection with the
Welsh Prince to establish an unwelcome familiarity with Llewelyn's brother-in-law, and his sensitivity was such that he was utterly oblivious to
Richard's measured recoil
"Have you had further word on de Braose's whereabouts7" Richard was tempted to deny Thomas the pleasure of being one of the first to know But all would know soon enough, and he said grudgingly, "De Braose and his family fled to Ireland on Thursday last, are seeking refuge with his son-m-law, the Lord of Meath "
"Indeed7 And will your lord father the King now " But Richard was spared further conversation by the arrival of Gwenwynwyn Richard had never met the
Prince of Powys, but he was quite curious about '"is man who was Llewelyn's avowed and embittered rival, and he watched with considerable interest as
Gwenwynwyn was escorted into e hall He was a good ten years older than
Llewelyn, appeared to be in
15 middle to late forties, a short, dark-complexioned man, stocky and newy, he bore a surprising resemblance to the swarthy, thickset Earl of ster And like
Chester, Gwenwynwyn had black eyes ablaze with er> intelligence, sharp with suspicion Chester was advancing to greet him Gwenwynwyn's eyes flicked

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past the Earl, encompassed the hall. "I was summoned to meet with King John,"
he said, in fluent Norman-French. "Why is he not here?"
"The King's Grace has instructed me to act on his behalf." Chester's voice was neutral, matter-of-fact. "He has been grievously affronted by your recent incursions into Norman lands in South Wales. No man, be he Welsh or Norman, may violate the King's Peace with impunity. The King has therefore directed me to take you into the custody of the crown, to detain you here in Shrewsbury
Castle."
Richard saw the looks of incredulous outrage upon the faces of Gwenwynwyn's
Welsh followers, saw hands drop to sword hilts Gwenwynwyn looked no less outraged, but he showed now that he resembled Chester in more than coloring, showed himself to be the same sort of hardheaded realist. Having walked trustingly into John's trap, he could accept defeat with as much dignity as he could muster, or he could cast his life away in a gesture of grand defiance.
He chose the former, snapped a command to his men, and then turned back to face Chester.
"I came here in good faith," he said, with such scalding contempt that suddenly none of the Normans could meet his eyes; even Thomas Corbet looked somewhat discomfited.
"You came here to answer charges brought against you by Marcher lords like
Peter Fitz Herbert, that you've been raiding Norman manors, running off livestock, and burning crops," Chester said, quite flatly, and Gwenwynwyn's lip curled.
"Yi ci a fyner ei grogi dywedir ei fod yn lladd defaid," he said scornfully.
Even Marcher border lords like the Corbets had never bothered to learn Welsh;
Chester alone spoke the language. It was he who translated for the benefit of his companions. " 'The dog we would hang is said to devour sheep.' If, by that, you mean the King has contrived an excuse to seize your lands ..."
"What else would I think? I would like to know, though, where this pretty plot was first hatched . . . Westminster? Or Aber?"
"Aber? You think the King is obliging Llewelyn ab lorwerth in this?" Chester shook his head, even smiled faintly, as though at Gwenwynwyn's naive misreading of English aims. "Your suspicions are understandable, but unwarranted. I assure you the King has no desire to see Powys fall under
Llewelyn's control. Royal couriers are even now on their way to Gwynedd and to the courts of Prince Maelgwn and Prince Rhys Gryg in South Wales, forbidding them to take advantage of y°ur troubles with the King, telling them to keep out of Powys."
"And you truly think Llewelyn will heed such a command?" Gwenwynwyn was staring at them in bitter disbelief. "You fools. You p°°

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bloody fools It would be laughable, in truthif I were not to be the one to pay the pnce for your stupidity'"
jsjo one answered him Chester gestured abruptly and men-at-arms merged from behind the screen, moved to escort the captive Welsh Prince to his confinement
In the silence that followed, Thomas Corbet steppe^ toward Chester, began to assure the Earl that he knew LleweIvn well, that he would not dare to defy the
King's command No one asked Richard for his opinion, and he did not volunteer it He admittedly did not know Llewelyn as Thomas Corbet did, had only met him twice But he suspected that Gwenwynwyn knew Llewelyn better than any of them, and if Gwenwynwyn was right, he thought uneasily, there would be Hell to pay
For his sister's sake, he could only hope that Thomas was right and the
Welshman wrong
GREYING dawn light was illuminating the snow-drifted peaks of Eryn, turning the crystalline lakes of the high mountain reaches to glistening blue ice, bringing day to the River Lledr valley and the castle standing stark sentinel in the shadow of Moel Siabod
Joanna stood by the hearth in their bedchamber, watching her husband dress As always when he was in a rush, Llewelyn lacked patience, preferring not to summon his squires to do what he could more quickly do himself It was cold and
Joanna pulled her bedrobe close, sought with chilled fingers to fasten the belt over her swollen abdomen
"I still cannot believe it," she said when she could keep silent no longer "I
cannot believe you'd do this, leave me when my time is nigh The babe is due in six weeks, Llewelyn You would truly leave me when I do need you the most and for what7 A bloody border raid'"
"Joanna, you are not hearing me, not listening to what I say I know you are distraught, and I am sorry for that, love But a chance like this will not come again With Gwenwynwyn caged in Shrewsbury, all of Powys hes open for the taking You think Maelgwn and Rhys Gryg are not planning to carve it up between them even as we talk7 You know what I want for Wales, know what it would mean to hold both Gwynedd and Powys Can you truly expect me to forfeit such an opportunity7 I cannot do that, Joanna, not even for you "
"My father will not forgive you," she said, saw him shrug
"I expect I can live with that," he said, and his indifference only served to fan Joanna's fury all the higher In the night she'd clung to lm/ put aside her pride and confessed her fear, her need to have him
, n ner when the babe was born And he'd been very tender, very
Vlng But he'd not weakened in his resolve to depart on the morrow,

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to lead an army into Powys, and when she said her father would riot forgive him, she was in fact warning that she might not be able to f0r. give him either.
Llewelyn buckled his scabbard, felt the familiar weight of a sword at his left hip, sheathed a razor-edged dagger, and then crossed the chamber, put his hands on Joanna's shoulders.
"You say the babe is not due for six weeks, breila. That means there still will be time enough. Once I'm entrenched in Powys, neither Maelgwn nor Rhys
Gryg is likely to mount any sort of challenge to my suzerainty. If all goes as
I expect, I'll leave Ednyved in temporary cornmand and come back for the birth." He smiled at her, a smile to break her heart, said, "I promise, love, promise to be back in time," and she wrenched free.
"Think you that I'm a child to be mollified with sugared words, placated with promises? You're not God, cannot give me an assurance like that. How can you be sure the babe will not come early, before its time? That you'd not be delayed by foul weather, reversals of the campaign? Or that you'd not get so caught up in that campaign, in the killing and the conquest and whatever it is that makes men lust so after war that you'll forget all else? Who is going to remind you that you've a wife in need of you, a wife about to bear your child?"
"Joanna, I have to do this."
"Was that what you told Tangwystl, too?"
Joanna at once regretted it; there were taunts that not even the most justifiable anger could excuse. She knew Llewelyn's grieving had been all the greater for not having been with Tangwystl when she died, and she said hastily, "I am sorry."
"You damned well should be!" He turned away from her, strode toward the door, only to stop with his hand on the latch. Wheeling about, he came back, reached out, and jerked her toward him. He was not gentle, pulled her into an angry, ungainly embrace, made awkward by the unwieldy burden of her pregnancy. "I
will be back, Joanna."
She wanted to fling his grudging promise in his face, to say she'd see him damned and in Hell ere she'd beg him again to stay. Instead she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, for a moment buried her face in his shoulder.
But there was no healing in their embrace. Llewelyn stepped back, again turned toward the door.
"Llewelyn."
He paused, but she saw he was impatient to be gone, his mind already upon
Powys and plans of conquest. "Take care of yourself," she said, and even to her own ears, her voice sounded strange, made tte and toneless by her fear.
"Take care," she repeated bleakly. "I woul look dreadful in black."

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ON arnvmg at Aber, Richard was disheartened to be told that his sis-
was awaiting her confinement at Dolwyddelan Castle, more than a
, y'g journey to the south But the winter was so far proving to be a i)d one, and the passes were still clear of snow With Welsh guides ho knew every rock and crevice of the Eryn heights, they encountered o difficulties, rode into the bailey of Dolwyddelan soon after dark on November
18
This was his first visit to Dolwyddelan, and Richard was looking about with interest as he followed Dylan, Joanna's seneschal, up the stone outer stairs into the keep But as soon as he stepped across the threshold, he sensed that something was very wrong Morgan ap Bleddyn, Branwen, and Alison were clustered awkwardly to one side, and barely glanced his way In the center of the chamber
Joanna and Gruffydd were standing At sight of his sister, Richard felt a throb of alarm, she looked ill, eyes hollowed and swollen, skin showing a greyish pallor even in the warming, reddish glow of hearth fire She had yet to notice him, had all her attention focused upon her stepson Richard spoke no Welsh, but it was obvious that the conversation was a strained, labored one Joanna paused frequently, fumbled for words, and at last switched into French, saying in a very low voice, "What more can I say than that I am sorry7"
Gruffydd had been staring past her into the hearth At that, he raised his head, and Richard took an instinctive step forward He did not dismiss the passions of the very young with indulgent amusement At nineteen, he was still young enough himself to remember, he knew that a child's hatred might be even more intense than that of a man grown, for the man's emotions were likely to be tempered with painful adult experiences in the arts of compromise and conciliation The child's passions were purer and more primitive, and the hatred of a child could easily get away from him, take on dimensions and depths he could not hope to control Such a hatred was now naked upon
Gruffydd's face, a helpless, soul-scarring hatred for his father's wife
Gruffydd somehow fought back the words rising up to choke him, whirled and bolted for the door Joanna signaled to Morgan, and the Pnest swiftly followed the boy from the chamber It was only then that *e saw Richard "Oh, Richard, thank God1" she cried, with such an ensity °f emotion that what was meant as a welcome became an in-
untary confession of despair
Richard was not normally demonstrative, but he came forward th 8ave her a prolonged hug Waiting until they were together in r j^ wmdow seat nearest the bed, he watched her fidget with the lap e oranwen had tucked around her, and finally said quietly, "Are you ot going to tell me what that was about7"