Here Be Dragons - 1 by Sharon Penman (best inspirational books txt) 📕

I have not told them yet," he admitted, and flushed when they both laughed."Can you truly blame me?" he protested. "We'll be bound to have a godawful row. I know not with whom my mother'll be more wroth, me or my Uncle Gruffydd, for aiding and abetting me in this. As for Hugh, he's like to have an apoplectic fit. You see, he'd arranged for me to enter the household of aNorman Earl."Llewelyn shook his head in mock regret. "Poor Hugh, how he has struggled to make of me a proper Norman. I once overheard his brother grumbling about turning a sow's ear into a silk purse, and I daresay Hugh has had moments when he's in heartfelt agreement!"This last was said without rancor. Llewelyn never doubted tha Hugh's fondness for him was genuine, but he'd come to understand that affection and bias could take root in the same soil. In this he had tn

29fa ere of Rhys and Ednyved, and they looked so offended that he advanwg<- -j.11i ij Ffelt compelled to come to Hugh s defense."Yet he is a good man for all that. My mother has been quite content th him, and I"he grinned suddenly"I even did come to forgive vTm for his greatest sin, that of not being born Welsh!"But here they had no common meeting ground; neither Rhys nor Fdnvved hadEnglish friends, English kin. Both looked blank, and then Rhys dismissed what he did not understand, saying, "You'll not let them talk you out of it?""No." Llewelyn sat up, his eyes searching their faces with sudden ober intent."I shall have men to counsel me, men well lessoned in the ways of war. But no matter how much help I get from my Uncle Gruffydd or my cousins, I shall have to stand or fall on my own efforts. If I cannot convince people that my claim be just, if I cannot win their allegiance . . . nor can I expect my blood to count for aught should I fall into Davydd's hands. And the risks will be no less for those who follow me." He paused. "My Uncle Gruffydd has agreed to speak with your fathers, should you""You want us to help you overthrow Davydd and Rhodri, to fight with you?" Rhys could wait no longer, and burst out eagerly, "Jesu, Llewelyn, need you even ask?"Llewelyn smiled. "What of you, Ednyved? Does Rhys speak for you, too?""I'd as soon speak for myself," Ednyved said, sounding quite serious for once."I want to be sure I fully understand. We'd be camping out in the mountains ofGwynedd, harassing your uncles howsoever we could, living like outlaws, sleeping in the open, eating on the run, rebels with prices on our heads. Is that a fair summing up of what we could expect?""Very fair," Llewelyn agreed, and a slow grin began to spread over Ednyved's face."Who could possibly turn down an offer like that?""It is settled, then," Rhys said briskly, never having doubted what his cousin's answer would be. As he spoke, he was rolling up the sleeve of his tunic. Before Llewelyn and Ednyved realized what he meant to o, he unsheathed his dagger and, without the slightest hesitation, drew it swiftly across the bared skin of his forearm.1 his is too important for mere words," he explained composedly, watching the flow of his own blood with indifferent eyes. "For this, we must swear in blood."was a gesture as irresistible as it was melodramatic, at least to ew yn.Ednyved looked rather less enthusiastic, and when Rhys

30passed him the bloodied dagger, he took it with such reluctance that Llewelyn burst out laughing."Since you share the same blood as Rhys, mayhap you could swear, too, in his,"he gibed, and Ednyved grimaced, drew a few drops of blood."Here, my lord princeling," he grunted. "Your turn."Llewelyn made a far more modest cut than Rhys had, saying, "If I'm to spill my blood, I'd as soon spill it in Gwynedd." Rising, he searched the clearing until he'd gathered a handful of rock moss. This he brought back to Rhys, and leaning over, he applied it to the other boy's arm."Hold this upon the cut till the bleeding ceases, or you might well end up as the first casualty of my war," he said, and laughed again, realizing that he was as happy at this moment as he'd ever been in his life.HUGH Corbet was surprised to find the great hall all but deserted; as inEngland, the hall was the heart of Welsh home life. But then he heard the voices, angry, accusing, and he understood. At the far end of the hall his wife and her elder brother Gruffydd were standing, and even Hugh, who knew noWelsh other than a few endearments Marared had taught him in bed, could tell at once that they were quarreling, quarreling bitterly. Gruffydd's retainers and servants had wisely fled the battlefield; only Llewelyn, Adda, and Morgan ap Bleddyn, his wife's chaplain, were still in the hall.As Hugh moved up the center aisle, Gruffydd turned on his heel and stalked out the door behind the dais, slamming it resoundingly behind him. Hugh was secretly amused that his wife should be giving her brother such grief. He had discovered early in his marriage that Welshwomen were more outspoken and less submissive than their Norman sisters, and while he'd learned to accept Marared on her own terms, it pleased him to see Gruffydd reaping what he had sown. For certes, a society in which women were not taught their proper place was bound to lack harmony, a natural sense of order.But he was taken aback by what happened next. Marared swung around on her eldest son, put a question to him, and when he shook his head, she slapped him across the face. Hugh was astonished, for he'd never seen her raise her hand to Llewelyn before, not even on occasions when the boy richly deserved it. He hastened toward them, wondering what sins would loom so large