Here Be Dragons - 1 (50 page)

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r moved closer and closer to an irrevocable break. She'd been deeply hurt by her father's seizure of Ellesmere, saw the revoking of her marriage portion as a denial of her marriage, felt that her father had somehow betrayed her. That
Llewelyn would receive William de Braose was, in 9 different way, no less a betrayal.
Once they were within sight of the castle, Joanna felt free to dismiss Alys and the three men she'd taken along as an escort, knowing Llewelyn would have been furious with her if she'd gone off without them She was in no hurry to climb the slope up to the castle, not when William de Braose might still be within, and she loitered for a time by the water's edge, watching gulls squabble over the last of her bread. When Elen came running up, brandishing a dead crab, Joanna made the obligatory response, delighted her daughter by shrinking back in mock horror, not confiscating the crab until Elen tried to stuff it down the front of Davydd's tunic.
Elen burst into thwarted tears, sobbing pitifully and resisting with all the strength in her small body as Joanna pulled her away from the water, in the direction of the castle. Just when Joanna's frayed patience was about to give way, Elen wriggled loose, sprinted forward with a glad cry of "Gruffydd!"
A short distance away, three boys were sitting upon a log, throwing knives at a small piece of driftwood. Joanna was now close enough to make a grudging recognition of her stepson and Ednyved's son Tudur. The third youngster had sun-streaked blond hair and a deep tan; she only belatedly recognized him as
William de Braose's grandson and namesake.
He rose politely, if briefly, to his feet at sight of her; so did Tudur. But
Gruffydd did not move, managed to make of his slouching pose a deliberate provocation. In the five months since he'd attained his fourteenth birthday and his legal majority, Gruffydd's relationship with Joanna had deteriorated rapidly. No longer sullenly mute, he was becoming openly antagonistic, almost as if defying Joanna to fall back upon her weapon of last resort, to complain of his rudeness to Llewelyn. Joanna did not know whether he was testing his newfound manhood or testing her, knew only that they were racing headlong toward a confrontation, and she watched grimly as Elen flung herself onto her brother's lap, wrapped her arms around his neck, and entreated, "Make me fly, Gruffydd!"
Coming to his feet, Gruffydd obligingly swung the little girl up ti"° the air, high over his head, making her shriek with laughter, as Davyo watched wistfully. But while envying his sister's swooping fligh'' stayed where he was, for he was somewhat afraid of Gruffydd. r*1 every overture had been rebuffed so brutally that he now avoid
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Gruffydd whenever possible; although his awareness was still only on n
Unconscious level, he'd begun to sense that when his brother Gruffydd looked at him, it was with loathing.
Setting Elen down upon the sand, Gruffydd sprawled back upon the log. "I hope you have an explanation for your disappearance. My father is less than pleased with you for running off as you did."
"That is hardly your concern."
As always, their conversation sounded discordant, somehow offkey, for Gruffydd refused to address Joanna in Welsh, and she just as stubbornly renounced
French. Will was beginning to look amused, and it was to him that Gruffydd said, "A Welsh-born wife would rise even from a sickbed to make welcome a guest in her husband's house. There was a time, in fact, when women did not come and go just as they pleased. In the reign of Hywel the Good, a prince's wife shunned the great hall in his absence, kept to the women's quarters until her lord returned. But then you Normans invaded England, brought queer and outlandish customs with you like some noxious foreign pox."
"I find it passing strange that you would choose to boast of the more backward aspects of your heritage," Joanna snapped, and Will laughed aloud.

"Check and mate," he pronounced, with a mocking grin that endeared him neither to Joanna nor to Gruffydd.
"Sugar!" Joanna whistled for her dog. With Davydd holding onto her skirt and
Elen dawdling behind, she started toward the castle. She'd taken only a few steps, was still within earshot when Will laughed again.
"So that is your father's wife."
"That," Gruffydd said, quite clearly and distinctly, "is my father's whore."
Joanna froze, disbelieving, and then spun around. "I want an apology from you, and I want it now. If not, I shall go to Llewelyn, tell him the way you dare to speak about his wife." Gruffydd's eyes narrowed. "Go ahead. I'd deny it."
"Do you truly think he'd believe you over me?" Joanna said, and he r°se, took a sudden step toward her. He was taller than she, as tall ready as Llewelyn, and for the first time she was aware of a physical Menace, aware that a boy's raw, raging passion was now contained wi*in a man's body.
Will moved to Joanna's side. "'My father's whore,'" he drawled. Dld you forget, Gruffydd, that I heard you, too?"
Gruffydd was taken aback, but not for long. "You keep out of this!" Will smiled. "Make me," he said. Stop it," Joanna said sharply. Will had shifted his weight, bracing

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himself; a hand had dropped to the dagger at his belt. Gruffydd, too wore a dagger, and he was, Joanna, knew, utterly fearless. They were' the both of them, too old for boyhood squabbles that left only scratches and bruises, but not old enough to judge what was worth fighting or dying for, and Joanna was suddenly frightened. "Stop this foolishness," she repeated, knowing even as she spoke that they were not likely to heed her.
It was Elen who stopped it, Elen who was tired of being ignored and sought to call attention back to herself by quoting parrotlike, " 'Father's whore.' Is that you, Mama?"
Gruffydd drew a quick breath, looked down at the little girl, and Joanna saw in his eyes a sudden shame. His hand unclenched from his dagger hilt; he flexed his fingers, rubbed his palm against his tunic. He obviously did not know what to say to Elen, at last mumbled, "You must forget that, lass, must not say it for others to hear"
Joanna interrupted hastily, knowing nothing would be more likely to brand the word into Elen's brain. "It is just another word for ... for Norman, Elen."
As Elen wandered away, satisfied, Gruffydd looked at Joanna. "I was wrong to say that," he said, very low. "I never meant for my sister to hear. It will not happen again." The apology cost him dearly, but in making it, he unexpectedly achieved a certain bleak dignity, which not even Joanna could deny.
Gruffydd's eyes flicked briefly to Will, back to Joanna. "I owe my lord father better than that," he said, turned and walked away.
JOANNA paused on the wooden stairs leading up to her chamber in the Great
Tower, looked thoughtfully down at Will. "Thank you for escorting us back to the castle. But tell me, why did you take my side against Gruffydd?"
"I'm naturally gallant," he said, and laughed, then shrugged. "Mayhap because you're Norman, a woman. Or mayhap because I was not much taken with your stepson."
"I was surprised, in truth, to see the two of you together. I'd have thought
Gruffydd would sooner befriend a caeth, a bond servant, than one of Norman blood."
"Well, I expect it helped that I speak so much better Welsh than you! And we did discover a common bond, a shared loathing for tne King of England."
"I see," Joanna said slowly. She knew his candor was a delibera challenge, but how could the boy not blame her father for the dovvnw

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f his House7 "You know, of course, that I am King John's daughter I ^e it you do not believe, then, in blood guilt7"
"Now you are mocking me," he said composedly "But yes, I do believe in blood guilt for men, for sons Not for a woman, though, at least not a woman who looks like you do1" There was in his grin both jnpudence and a certain cocky charm, and Joanna had to laugh
"For your sake, Will de Braose, I hope you do learn to curb your tongue, you cannot trade upon being fourteen forever1" She turned to g0, paused again "You remind me of someone, and I've just realized who I think my husband must have been much like you at fourteen "
Will looked pleased "If I can win as much with my sword as Llewelyn ab lorwerth has won with his, I'd be well content " He backed away from the stairs, stood looking up at Joanna "I shall remember you, my lady And to prove
I am generous as well as gallant, I do have some free advice for you Talk to your lord husband about his son "
JOANNA knew Will was right, but she knew, too, that now was not the time Her relationship with Llewelyn was strained enough this summer, needed no more pressures brought to bear upon it
Pushing open the door of her chamber, she came to an abrupt halt at sight of
William de Braose That Llewelyn should have brought de Braose here, to their private chamber, was more than she could forgive, and when de Braose moved toward her, kissed her hand, she was hard put not to snatch it from his grasp
She managed a grudging nod, but no more
As soon as they were alone, Llewelyn said curtly, "When I make a man welcome at my hearth, I expect my wife to treat him with courtesy Is that clear, Joanna7"
"Yes " But the mutinous set of her mouth belied the dutiful submission
Crossing to her clothes coffer, she jerked the hd up, let it drop with a slam
"How can you allow that man at your table7 You know what he ]s, a traitor, a fugitive from the King's justice Why must you do this7 Why must you antagonize my father to no purpose7"
"Joanna, I cannot shape my life around what will or will not please your father Even if I were willing to do that, to turn myself into his
PuPpet, it would avail me naught For some months now, John has been
°oking for excuses to find fault, to curtail my authority in Gwynedd "
That is not fair1 Nor is it true'" Branwen had hung a gown on the oodert wall pole, Joanna pulled it down, began to fumble with the n8s of her bhaut The knots defied her fingers, and she was finally rced to ask Llewelyn's help He had no more luck with the ties than
' )erked impatiently until one of the laces broke off in his hand "TK 'lank you so much, that I could have done myself" Joanna man-

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aged to get the bliaut over her head, flung it to the floor. She started to remove the gown, but then she paused, glared at him, and retreated around the curtained bed to strip off the dress.
"Joanna, just what secrets do you think you could have from me after nigh on four years of sharing my bed?" Llewelyn sounded both amused and exasperated.
But when she reemerged, he said, quite seriously, "I am bone-weary of these constant quarrels, bone-weary of having to defend to you every decision I
make. You are my wife as well as John's daughter, but there are times when you seem to forget that."
"That is so unjust, Llewelyn! You know I do love you. But 1 love my father, too. What would you have me do, choose between you?"
He did not give her the reassurance she expected. "I would hope it will never come to that, Joanna," he said quietly, and she stared at him in dismay, at a loss for words.
There was a sharp rapping on the door and Ednyved entered. "Llewelyn, a messenger has just ridden in from the south. John landed at Fishguard, in
South Wales, three days ago. And he brought with him Maude de Braose."
WILL swallowed. "My parents?" he said. "My little sister? Were they taken, too?"
William de Braose seemed not to hear. It was Llewelyn who reassured the boy, said, "No, lad, they were not."
"How . . . how was my grandmother taken? I thought they'd gotten safely into
Scotland."
"They did, but at Galloway a Scots lord took them prisoner, held them for
John. Your parents escaped; so did your Aunt Margaret and her husband, de
Lacy. But Maude was taken, and so was her daughter Annora, her son Will, and his four young sons. They were sent under guard back to Ireland, to John at
Carreckfergus." Llewelyn looked from the boy to the still silent de Braose.
"What will you do?" he asked, and de Braose bestirred himself with an obvious effort, shrugged.
"What can I do? You said John is heading for Bristol. I shall have to go to
Bristol, too, try to come to terms with him."
The Welsh murmured among themselves at that, looked at the Norman lord with the first glimmerings of respect. Even Llewelyn was somewhat impressed. "I
wish you well," he said, and meant it, thanwu that he would never be facing de
Braose's dilemma, that his own wi'e had nothing whatsoever to fear from John.
De Braose seemed to have aged years in a matter of hours. He ran hand roughly through greying blond hair, said heavily, "My lord Llew lyn, I do have a favor to ask of you. I know we are not far from the p°

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, p^rjjheli Can you provide a guide for my grandson, get the lad safely ugre7"
And when Llewelyn nodded, he turned to Will, said, "At Pwll-
heh y°u can ta^e S'11P ^or one °^ *^e sout^ern Ports, Tenby or Swansea,

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"You are wrong, Llewelyn, so very wrong." Joanna brushed away tears with the back of her hand. "You do not know him as I do. Why will you not believe me?
Why will you not at least try to allay my father's fears? You know he is of a mistrustful nature, know how quick he is to suspect the worst. He has never truly trusted you after you defied him and seized Powys, we both know that.
And now, when he learns that you gave shelter to an enemy like William de
Braose"
"You do not understand at all, do you, Joanna? You still do not see. This is my land, the land of my father and his father before him and his father before him. I am of the House of Cunedda, who ruled in Gwynedd in the fifth century after the birth of the Lord Jesus Christ. Can your Norman kings trace their ancestry back seven hundred years? I think not, yet they dare to sneer at our customs, to mock our heritage and our language.
"I am Welsh, Joanna, and even now you cannot comprehend what that means.
Normandy, Anjou, Englandit is all the same to you of Norman birth. Your people have dwelt in England for over a hundred years, yet you do not think of yourselves as English. You do not sicken when uprooted or exiled, you do not recognize the kinship of the tribe, which goes beyond the cenedl, the kinship of blood. You know nothing of hiraeth. And you will never understand what I
feel when I see Norman castles guarding Welsh mountain passes, when I hear
French spoken instead of Welsh in the valley of the Rhondda, knowing French might one day be heard in the valleys of Gwynedd, too."
Joanna had listened in stricken silence. Their most heated quarrels had not frightened her so much. Not since the first days of her marriage had she felt as she did now, as an alien in a world that would never make her welcome, that she could never understand.
"You are right, Llewelyn," she said softly, wretchedly. "I do not understand.
I would to God I could, but I do not. I love you, though. Does that count for nothing?"
"I know you love me, Joanna. But you believe your father is in the right and I
am in the wrong, believe all would be well if only I'd act as a proper vassal, submit myself unto the King's will."
She could not deny it, and that frightened her all the more. How much strain could a marriage absorb, how many quarrels before the foundation cracked, split beyond repair?
"I know that of a sudden we seem to be arguing all the time, and I hate it, I
do. I will not lie to you. There have been times this summer when I have not liked you very much. But I never stop loving you/ Llewelyn, no matter how angry I get. You must believe that." She paused for breath, forced herself to ask. "You . . . you do still love me.
"Ah, Joanna, how young you still are . . ." He crossed the charnber' stopped before her. "When I married you, you were an appealing, c°u'
rageous child. You've grown into a beautiful, courageous woman, and I have learned to love you, breila. But"
"No," she entreated, reaching up and laying her fingers against his mouth.
"You say you do love me. Let's stop with that, let's not talk any more .
please. Love me, Llewelyn. Make me forget all but you."
He tilted her face up, kissed her, gently at first, and then he lifted her in his arms, carried her to the bed, where he did make her forget. . . for a rime.
WHEN William de Braose, under escort, entered the solar of the King's castle at Bristol, he felt no surprise at sight of so many highborn witnesses: the
Earls of Salisbury, Derby, Surrey, and Chester, Eustace de Vesci and Geoffrey
Fitz Peter, John's Justiciar. De Braose understood all too well. There was no longer need for caution, no longer need to fear betrayal, not with de Braose's wife, son, and grandsons under close guard in this very castle.
De Braose was actually glad of an audience. Derby and Chester had intervened