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

heralded the giving of a memorable gift.see no reason' Joanna, why you yourself should not act as regentDavid comes of age."'°anna sat very still. She was aware of perspiration trickling clam-

338mily down her throat, between her breasts, along her ribs, rivulets cold sweat that seared her skin like ice, set her to trembling. Richard had moved behindJohn's chair, and when she opened her mouth, he gave swift, warning shake of his head. She let her protest ebb away on a uneven, labored breath, grabbed for a wine cup, and drank witnout tasting.John had been watching her intently. "I see," he said at last, qu^, coolly."No, Papa, I do not think you do." Joanna set the wine cup down reached at random for something she could not spill, clutched at a thick slice of bread."It would not work, you see. The Welsh would never accept a woman as regent.It is true that in most ways their women enjoy greater freedom than ours, but those freedoms are personal, not political.""Then we need only select a regent amenable to our wishes, eager to cooperate with the crown. You'd still act as regent, in all but name Does that frighten you? It need not, for you'd not be alone, lass. I'd see that you had advisers you could trust, men who""Your advisers, Papa? Men of Norman blood? How do you think the Welsh would react to that? No, you still do not understand. It's not just that the Welsh would never accept me. They'd not accept Davydd, either. He is a babe, halfNormanand your grandson. Those would be liabilities to cost him the crown.Should aught befall Llewelyn, his people would not look to Davydd, they'd look to Llewelyn's other son, his Welsh son.""Gruffydd?" he said, showing her he was all too familiar with Lie welyn's court. "And if he were not available?""It ... it would not matter. Llewelyn has another son, Tegwared. He's still a child, but the Welsh would prefer him to Davydd. They'd even prefer Llewelyn's cousin Hywel. Davydd must earn the acceptance of his father's people, must prove to them that his heart and soul are no less Welsh than Gruffydd's. I've given this much thought, Papa, from the very day of his birth. I do think he can eventually win their allegiance. But he'll need time, time to grow to manhood. Until then, only his father can safeguard his inheritance, onlyLlewelyn." Joanna ha unwittingly been tearing at the bread as she spoke; the tablecloth va littered with crumbs. She put the crust aside, said, "That is why I hav come, Papa. To beg you to spare Llewelyn ... for the sake of my s°n"You are saying, then, that all your concern is for David, none o forLlewelyn?" , {John sounded so skeptical that Joanna blushed, remembering bedchamber scene he'd witnessed at Woodstock. "No, Papa," s"e as steadily as she could, "I am not saying that. I do care for L

339j-jow could I not? He treats me quite well. I've been his wife for I e years, have borne him two children, would not want to see him harmed."She reached across the table, caught at John's sleeve. "If I owe Lle-elvn a wife's loyalty and Davydd a mother's love, I owe you much, o I to^ you at tne **me * agreed to wecl Llewelyn that there was othing I would not do for you. I meant it, Papa, proved it by making a marriage I dreaded. Did you know that, know how much I feared it? ButI did it for you . . . and then found in that marriage an unexpected and abiding contentment."John shifted in his seat, drew back out of reach. "Does it matter so much to you, Joanna, being Llewelyn's wife?""Not his wife, Papa . . . his consort."That was an answer he was not expecting. He leaned back in his chair, subjected her to a troubled appraisal. "In truth, Joanna? At the time of your marriage, I seem to remember you counting a crown of little worth.""At the time of my marriage, I was only fourteen. The truth is, Papa, that I'm pleading not just for Davydd, but for myself, too. Even now it often seems no less than a miracle to me, that I could be bastardborn and yet wear a crown. Ido not think I could bear to give it up. You, of all men, should be able to understand that.""Yes," he admitted, "I can. I only wish I'd known . . ." He rose abruptly, moved to the window. "I am sorry, lass, I swear I am. But you ask too much of me.""Not if you love me." Joanna had risen, too, stumbled over her skirts in her haste to follow John to the window. "Papa . . . you do still love me?"He swung around, stared at her."Jesu, do you doubt it?""I . I do not know. God knows I do not want to! But you led an army into my husband's lands, my lands, too. Your men even burned Aber, and that was my home, Papa, mine no less than Llewelyn's. What lf my children or I had still been there, if we'd not"Ah, Joanna, do not! This is between Llewelyn and me, has nothing0 ° with you. I'd not hurt you for the world. You have ever been my dearest child, do you not know that?"Help me, then, Papa. You're the only one who can. For Davydd°r me, I beg you . . . please!" Joanna's voice broke; she started to e - and John stopped her, pulled her almost roughly to her feet.°o not, lass. There's no need."oardina Cau8ht her breath. "Does that mean you'll do it, Papa? You'llQ°n Llewelyn?"

340There was a long pause, and then he nodded. "It seems I have ^ choice."Joanna had often heard Llewelyn quote a caustic Welsh prove^ one that spoke of a borrowed smile. She could feel just such a snulf twisting her mouth, a counterfeit coin to pay a