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

God, John, you cannot! That's twenty miles from here!""And a damned sight safer, so let that be an end to it. Now fetch me some wine, Peter. You'd not believe the noxious concoction your Abbot would have me drinkegg yolk in rosewater!"Peter laughed, approached the bed. As he did, John reached up, grasped his wrist. "Tell me," he said, "what you're keeping from me. I heard servants talking, know a courier arrived from Hubert de Burgh. Why did you not want me to see him, Peter? What message did he bring?"Peter hesitated, but John had never been easy to lie to. "The news is bad, John. Hubert de Burgh has asked Louis for a truce whilst he consults with you.Their supplies are running out. He says if you cannot come to his aid, he may have to surrender Dover Castle to the French."John's grip loosened; he sank back upon the bed, and then turned his face toward the wall. He heard Peter's footsteps retreating, heard the door quietly close. He shut his eyes, but the tears squeezed through his lashes, seared his skin like hot rain.TO the Abbot, Adam of Croxton, the world as he knew it was encompassed within the white walls of his abbey of St John the Evangelist his was a narrowed focus, he felt no lack, had never yearned to break free of the familiar, to embrace the unknown. He had not welcomed summons from the Bishop of Winchester, for he was not a ITiaIV) worldly ambitions, and his every instinct warned him that no g could come to him at the King's court.His instincts were sound. He found himself treating a dying ^. while fearing that he might be held accountable for that death. HIS ^ cal experience had been confined to the treatment of the canons an

495brothers °f ms abbey, local villagers, people who were in awe of his xpertise, docile and submissive Nothing had prepared him for a parent like JohnArrogant, irreverent, willful, he had yet to show any of the virtues that theAbbot expected of a dying Christian He was not humble, not noticeably repentant, and he seemed thoroughly preoccuP,ed vvith secular concerns, seemed to be devoting all his waking thoughts to his earthly kingdom at a time when he should be concentrating on'y uPon tfie Kingdom of GodThe Abbot had been appalled by John's determination to ride north to NewarkCastle He'd have sworn John was too weak even to mount a horse, but John did, somehow managed to stay in the saddle for more than four miles Even after he collapsed, he remained stubbornly set upon reaching Newark, and his men finally cut willows by the roadside, wove them into a makeshift litter, for however weakened his body was, John's will was not to be thwarted Go to Newark he would, and go to Newark he did, at a cost in pain the Abbot preferred not to dwell uponNewark Castle was nominally in the hands of the Bishop of Lincoln, but in actual fact it was a royal stronghold, and its constable, Robert de Gaugi, did all in his power to make the King comfortable John was lodged in the Bishop's private quarters on the uppermost floor of the three-story gatehouse For two days now, the Abbot had divided his time between John's chambers and the chapel of St Philip and St James As he entered John's bedchamber, he was not surprised to find a scribe at John's bedside, to find John dictating a letter to Falkes de Breaute, instructing him to free some servants of William deWarenne, Earl of Surrey"Witness ourself at Newark on Tuesday, the eighteenth of October, m the eighteenth year of our reign," John concluded, and glanced over at Peter desRoches to explain, "Rumor has it Warenne is ripe for switching sides again Agesture of goodwill costs us little, and might just push h'm off the fence "The Abbot watched in silent disapproval as John turned back to the f-nbe, began another letter, appointing Nicholaa de la Haye and Philip jjarc as joint sheriffs of Lincolnshire It both baffled and troubled himJohn should be squandering his last hours m sordid political deal-8s/ and he marveled that a man in such intense pain could be so corent, so cynical, and so singlemmded In all respects, he was finding "^utterly beyond his ken bUbl WaS Stl" Dictating, tms time to Engelard de Cigogne, his con-ord e °f ^Vlnc'sor Castle, directing him to accept his son Henry as liege nast,nd to hold the castle for him His voice had weakened over the fs °Urs' for he'd been dictating similar letters since dawn to his sher-c°istables, and castellans The effort he was making to talk was

496T497obvious to all in the room, and when he paused for breath, the Abbot stepped forward, held out a cup of dark liquid."Drink this, sire," he entreated, and tried to mask his annoyance when John demanded to know what was in it. "My own mixturesumac, gall, pomegranate rind, and opium. It will ease your pain, my lord."John was panting, but he shook his head stubbornly. "It'll make me sleep, too.And time is all I have." When the Abbot would have protested, he flared into sudden rage. "My son is nine years old. Are you so stupid that you do not know what that means? A child King and a kingdom at war, with half the realm underFrench control. A right loving bequest to leave my son, is it not?"The Abbot shrank back, speechless. Peter des Roches moved toward the bed, said with as much conviction as he could muster, "John, I understand your fear. But you must not despair. I truly believe men will rally to your son. He's but a child, has offended no one. Even men who are your sworn enemies might well forsake the French, return their allegiance to Henry."John could almost believe himalmost. "To hear you tell it, Peter, the best thing I can do for my son is