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

laws and customs of the realm," and warning that if John did not agree to their terms, they'd resort to force John's reaction was pithy and predictable."Why," he snapped, "do they not just ask for my kingdom?"With John's refusal, events seemed to take on their own momenturn. The arrival of letters from the Pope did nothing to diffuse the tension, for he commanded the barons to abandon conspiracies and render their customary service to theirKing. On May 3, the barons formally renounced their homage and fealty to John, and chose Robert Fitz Walter as the "Marshal of the Army of God and the HolyChurch."John did not respond as they expected. He stayed his hand, offered to submit their differences to the Pope and a jointly picked council for arbitration.Despite the grandiloquent title they'd bestowed upon Fitz Walter, the barons were well aware that John had already preempted the high moral ground in this coming war. Few were willing to gamble upon a papal judgment against a crusader King, and their answer to John's offer was to lay siege toNorthampton Castle.John had so far trodden with great care, had shown unexpected restraint, and he now began to reap the benefits of his forbearance. The vast majority of theEnglish baronage were neither royalists nor rebels, and while many were sympathetic to the idea of a charter of liberties, these same men were not as enthusiastic about a civil war. The siege at Northampton was an embarrassing failure. On May 12, John cornmanded his sheriffs to seize the lands of all rebels. But just five days later the political landscape was changed beyond recognition. For on Sunday, May 17, as Londoners were at Mass, Robert FitzWalter's friends opened the city gates, and London, "the capital of the crown and realm," was surrendered to the rebels.ALTHOUGH Shrewsbury was perilously close to the Welsh border, its o izens trusted to the security of the Severn, for the town was sheltered i a protective bend of the river. On three sides the Severn acted as a o midable barrier, as a deep, natural moat; on the north, the one landw approach was blocked by the stone walls of Shrewsbury Castle. BU^ borderland was in turmoil that May, and when rumors spread Welsh attack, people panicked. tgtThey had no luck in getting help from the Sheriff of Shropshire-^ ThomasErdington was a trusted agent of the English King, an jays John's needs took precedence over all else. Nor could they rely upon neighboring lords; Fulk Fitz Warin, the de Hodnets, and the powerful Corbet clan were all allied with the rebel barons and Llewelyn. Shrewsbury's common council met in urgent session, took the only action open to them, the fortification of the bridge that spanned the west bank of the Severn.Known as St George's or the Welsh bridge, it was an imposing structure, would not be easily assaulted. A tower blocked the eastern entrance off the bridge onto the town's Mardevol Street; a gatehouse with massive loopholed battlements barred entry from the west. Trenches had been dug behind the bridge, sandbags piled up. Frankevile, the little settlement on the opposite bank of the river, was all but deserted. Frightened villagers had long since driven their livestock into the hills, abandoning all they could not carry. StGeorge's and St John's, the two hospitals on the wrong side of the river, had been evacuated. To the men gathered now upon the bridge, all seemed in readiness, but the eerie stillness was not conducive to confidence. Each time birds broke cover along the riverbank, men flinched, tightened grips on sword hilts.Richard Pride and his brother Walter had both served as provosts and thought it only natural that they should assume control of the town's defenses. The

deputy constable of Shrewsbury Castle thought otherwise, and there'd been several heated exchanges. When the constable demanded that more men be deployed in defense of the castle, Richard Pride accused him of wanting to sacrifice the town for the castle, and they nearly came to blows. It took the intervention of Hugh de Lacy, Abbott of the influential Benedictine abbey ofSt Peter and St Paul, to restore order."Need I remind you whom the enemy is? It's madness to squabble amongst ourselves when Llewelyn ab lorwerth and his cutthroat Welsh could come into sight at any moment."The Abbot's acerbic rebuke sobered them all. John de Hibernia said uneasily, "Ought we not to send our women into the castle for safety's sake?"No one answered him, for at that moment they heard the shouting.came from behind them, from the town. The streets had been empty"°urs; shops were boarded up, families barricaded within their uses. But as they turned, they saw a man running up Mardevol eet running toward them.^ That's Lucas de Coleham," the constable said, needlessly, for ha t Was known on sight to all. The Pride brothers were already p^enin8 to intercept him, with John de Hibernia and Hugh de Cham-7.! "Sht at their heels.The Welsh ..." Coleham was sobbing for breath; he reeled to a

448stop, grabbed at Richard Pride for support. "Llewelyn . . . he's at the bridge!""Lucas, are you drunk? We hold the bridge, hold""The stone bridge . . . the English bridge! He's swung around to the east, is attacking from the other direction, from England!"He saw horrified comprehension upon their faces. Someone sworeJohn de Hibernia muttered, "Holy Virgin Mother," and made an instinctive sign of the cross. TheAbbot had reached them by now clutched at Coleham's arm."My abbey," he panted. "What of my abbey?"Coleham's throat was raw, his mouth parched. "It's afire, Abbot Hugh. It's burning.""SPARE the church!" Llewelyn's stallion shied as the wind sent sparks and cinders flying. He wheeled the horse in a semicircle, gestured to his right."Burn the other buildings!"Fire arrows had already embedded themselves in the thatched roofs of the laundry, the servants' dorters, the stables. Horses bolted in panic, several even floundering into the abbey fishpond. The Abbot's lodging had begun to burn; the guest house