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

I can only tell you what he said, that he has thought of a way to thwart Philip's invasion plans, whilst gaining His Holiness the Pope as a steadfast ally.""Papa is more than clever; at times he can be utterly ingenious. But not evenMerlin could manage that. The Pope would never trust Papa again. Nor would he intervene on Papa's behalf unless the Church had a stake in the war, and it does not."Isabelle shrugged. "I daresay you're right. But John is strangely calm for a man beset on all sides. He Richard, look. The prisoner being escorted through the gateway ... is that not Llewelyn's son?"Richard spun around. Gruffydd's guards were pulling him from his horse. He stumbled, nearly lost his balance, and looked in Richard's direction. Richard saw recognition on his face and, for the briefest of moments, an involuntary appeal.JOHN glanced around the table at the few men he did not suspect of complicity in the de Vesci-Fitz Walter plot. They'd listened intently, without interruption, as he explained what he planned to do, and why. and he'd seen their initial shock slowly give way to understanding, an then approval."Well?" he said. "Now that you know, what say you?" "It ought to work,"Chester conceded, and then added, with u characteristic enthusiasm, "For certes, Philip will be caught utterly guard." d"So, too, will His Holiness the Pope." Will was beaming; « been some years since John had seen such unqualified admiration' ^ brother's eyes. Pembroke, too, was nodding appreciatively. But i Reginald de Dammartin, the fugitiveCount of Boulogne, who e lohn's own opinion of his desperate ploy. Dammartin was a newcome -r to John's inner circle; he'd fled to England the preceding year, after sa bitter dispute with the French King. Aggressively independent, no »t verly scrupulous, and possessed of a brutally candid tongue, he hacd not found many friends atJohn's court. But as he was also utterly with out self-pity/ undeniably quick-witted, and a raconteur par excellence, , ^th an inexhaustible supply of boisterous, bawdy tales as uproarious a^S they were unseemly, John had conceived a genuine liking for the man^^ quite apart from Dammartin's considerable value as a political ally, fotf not only was Dammartin Count ofBoulogne by right of his wife, he alscr^ held the Norman fiefs of Aumale, Domfort, and Mortain, which Johnn had lost to Philip in 1204.Dammartin was grinning. "There is but one word for such an un derhanded stratagembrilliant."The other men laughed. They were still laughing as the solar dooi opened andGruffydd was thrust into the chamber.His guards shoved Gruffydd forward, forced him to kneel before the EnglishKing. John pushed his chair back from the table, watched Gruffydd in unnerving silence, his eyes speculative, not easily read.

"You're looking rather bedraggled these days," he said at last, and some ofGruffydd's fear was lost in a sudden surge of hatred."I'll not beg. No matter what you mean to do.""What I mean to do," John said blandly, "is to instruct your guards that you may have a bath upon your return to Dover."Gruffydd's jaw dropped. To be offered the promise of future tomorrows when he'd been measuring his life in minutes was a shock not easily absorbed. "Why would you want to do a kindness for me?"The corner of John's mouth twitched. "I see you have your father's impeccable manners. As it happens, I mean to do you a greater kindness than that. I've decided to allow you to write a letter to your father." He reckoned to one of the guards. "Cut his bonds, but make no mistake; "e s not to be trusted. There is parchment and pen and inkwell on the table, Gruffydd. You do know how to write? If not, you can dictate to one of my scribes."Gruffydd flushed. "I can write. I'm a Prince's son."John's smile was sardonic, but he said only, "You may write what u please, within reason. I think you should assure Llewelyn that you{ well, that you are not being maltreated or abused. You may tell him, ''hat I am willing to let him send Joanna to my court in order to y the truth of your assurances."ruffydd was surreptitiously rubbing his wrists, while trying des-^o futO ma^e sense °f John's sudden benevolence. In the nine s since the Nottingham hangings, he'd dwelt in death's shadow;

414not a day dawned when he did not wonder if it would be his last. What enabled him to endure was the intensity of his yearning for freedom-^ and for vengeance. But if a beneficent spirit had offered to grant hi lesser wishes, he'd have asked for a hot bath and contact of some sort with his family. It seemed almost diabolical to him that John should have pinpointed his vulnerabilities with such uncanny accuracy."Well?" John was regarding him with amused impatience. "What are you waiting for? The sooner you write the letter, the sooner you'll get word from home."Home. To Gruffydd's horror, tears suddenly filled his eyes. "No " he said huskily. "No. I'll write no letter for you, now or ever."It had never occurred to John that Gruffydd might refuse. "Why ever not?" he demanded, sounding more astonished than angry."Because you want it written. I admit I do not know why. But if it serves your interests, it cannot be to my father's advantage. So I'll not do it."It was suddenly quite still. Even to Gruffydd, his words rang hollow, not so much defiance as doomed bravado. John was slowly shaking his head. "Do not be a fool, boy. Surely you know I can make you write that letter."Gruffydd's stomach knotted. "You can try."John pushed his chair back still farther; wood grated harshly on the flagstones. "I cannot decide whether you're an utter idiot or merely foolhardy beyond belief." He made an abrupt gesture and the guards jerked Gruffydd to his feet. "Take him back to Dover, where he can think upon his lunacy."Reginald de Dammartin was the first to break the silence that followedGruffydd's