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

All eyes turned toward her, and in many of them she read chilling suspicion, a doubt none would dare to voice in Llewelyn s he ing: Can we speak freely in front of her? Feeling like an intruder in own bedchamber, Joanna settled down as inconspicuously as possio the nearest window seat. ,,(Llewelyn and Owain ap Gruffydd were standing by a trestle » partially covered by a crude map of Wales and the Marches. J°a nexpected entrance had thrown Owain momentarily off stride. Turn. back toLlewelyn, he gestured toward the map."You need look no farther than this, my lord, no farther than Eryri. VVhat better stronghold could you find? You know these mountains as ievf men do;they'd never be able to take you.""What would you have me do, Owain, live like a rebel on the run?""There are worse fates, my lord," Owain said evenly, and Llewelyn shook his head."You look at the map, but you still do not see. How can you be so blind?"Unsheathing his dagger, Llewelyn made a slashing cut in the parchment. "John has erected a castle here." Again the blade flashed. "And there. There, too.At Bala, Treffynnon, Mathrafal, Deganwy, Rhuddlan. Fourteen at last count, Owain, fourteen! Given time, he'll refortify each and every one in stone and mortar, put down roots so deep we'll never be able to dislodge him. Christ, man, do you not understand? He means the complete conquest of North Wales, means to turn all of Gwynedd into a God-cursed English shire!"None could deny it. Nor could they meet his eyes. Owain mumbled, "I know, my lord, I know. But you've got to think of saving yourself now. It is too late

to save Gwynedd.""No," Llewelyn said violently, "no!" He stared down at the map, and then, with a sudden, swift thrust, he plunged the dagger downward, impaling the map and burying the blade deep in the soft pine tableboard.It was so quiet that Joanna could hear the slight scraping of Adda's crutch as he dragged it through the floor rushes, limped to Llewelyn's side. "Llewelyn, I understand how you feel; how could I not? If I thought you had any chance at all, I'd say yes, go to the English King, s«ek to save what you can. But we're talking of John, Llewelyn, John who nurses a grievance till it festers. Not two months ago you made him took a right proper fool, cost him money, men, and no small loss of face. s gone to a great deal of trouble to get you just where you are this m§ht, and the only terms he's likely to offer will be a generous bounty to he man who can bring him your head."He'd listen to me." Joanna stood up, found her knees suddenly ea*; her heart was beating so rapidly that she felt slightly queasy. She a blurred glimpse of faces, most expressing shock at the very i U8nt °f entrusting all to a woman, and then she'd crossed the cham-r' ^ad laid her hand on Llewelyn's arm.ca me 8°to mm' Llewelyn," she pleaded. "He cares for me, and I ^ake him listen. I know I can." s face was hard to read; she could not immediately tell what his

332reaction was. Nor was she given a chance to find out, for Gruffy^j could keep silent no longer."Papa, do not listen to her! You cannot trust her to speak for y0ll. she's his daughter, of his befouled blood. She'd betray you, I know it!'' The boy was too agitated to guard his tongue, pleaded with no W passion than Joanna, "You cannot do this, cannot yield to him. Think how he'd humiliate you, make you grovel""That will be enough, Gruffydd!""I'd die ere I'd do that, Papa! And if you go to him, shame yourself like that, you shame us all!"Llewelyn took a swift step toward Gruffydd. Although he'd clenched his fist, he did not hit the boy. But Joanna saw him draw a deep, unsteady breath, saw how close he'd come to it. "Be thankful, Gruffydd," he said scathingly, "thatI remember I, too, was a fool at fifteen."Gruffydd flushed to the roots of his hair, and Joanna suspected he'd rather have been struck. "Papa . . ." he whispered, but only Joanna was close enough to hear him. Llewelyn had turned away, was already moving toward the door.When Rhys would have followed after him, Morgan stepped from the shadows, said, "No, let him be. He needs time to be alone, to think. Whatever price is to be paid, he must be the one to pay it. So the decision, too, must be his, his and his alone."EVEN dulled by moonlight, the stallion's coat shone like bronze; although white was the preferred color for horses, Llewelyn's memories of Sul had given him an unfashionable fancy for red-gold chestnuts. No longer grazing, the stallion had begun to nuzzle his tunic, but now it jerked its head up, nickered softly. Llewelyn reached for his sword, faded back into the shadows.A black-clad figure emerged through the trees, and he lowered the sword, watched as Morgan swung from the saddle. Morgan was unsure of his welcome, said somewhat awkwardly, "Joanna guessed you might be here. You've been gone so long we grew worried. But I'll go if you <* rather be alone.""I've not been alone. I've been keeping company with Arthur oj Brittany, Hugh de Lusignan, Walter de Lacy, William de Braose, all of the men in the last twenty years who made the fatal mistake of under estimating John Plantagenet."Walking to the edge of the cliff, Llewelyn gazed down at the cata ract.Although rain had been scarce that summer, as if even nature w favoring John's campaign, the river still surged against its banks, p'u

333eting over the jutting rocks and turning the pool below into a seething uldron of froth and spume, an impersonal and awesome affirmation of infinity"We're our own worst enemies, Morgan, God's cursed truth we re The Gospels say every kingdom divided against itself