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

heard from him.""Well, whatever enabled you toJoanna, you do not yet know, do you? How could you, being on the road all week? There was a great sea battle fought on StBartholomew's Day. The war is done, for Louis' hopes sank with his ships. And one of the heroes of the day was your brother!""Richard? Or Oliver?""Richard. Ah, Joanna, it was a glorious triumph. Robert de Courtenay was bringing reinforcements to Louis; they had a fleet of ten galleys and seventy smaller craft, under the command of Eustace the Monk.TVi mey meant to sail up the Thames to London, but our ships caught up wrth them at the mouth of the estuary. Richard brought his ship along-Slde Eustace's, and a cog commanded by John Marshal came up on the"'her side. The Monk had an enormous galley, but it was carrying orses and a heavy trebuchet, and was riding so low in the water that e deck was almost awash. Our cog was to windward, and the sailors, ,revv down pots of powdered quicklime onto the French, temporarily'nding them. Richard and his men at once boarded the galley, and in"ghting that followed, all of the French knightsthirty-sixwere fe n captive. Eustace the Monk was found hiding in the hold. He of-.. a thousand marks for his life, but Richard had him beheaded on hls own deck.

506mi507"After that, it was a total rout. Although we were greatly outrun^ bered, theFrench panicked once the Monk's ship was taken. Some of the galleys made it back to Calais, but all of the smaller ships were sunk or captured. Only the highborn knights were spared, all others being thrown into the sea. Much booty was taken and shared amongst our sailors afterward, with some set aside by theEarl of Pembroke to found a hospital in honor of St Bartholomew. The day's glory belonged to Hubert de Burgh, who commanded our fleetand to Richard."Isabelle at last paused for breath. "John would have been very proud of him.""Yes," Joanna agreed softly, "he would.""Pembroke sent Robert de Courtenay to Louis." Seeing Joanna belatedly react to the name Courtenay, Isabelle nodded, said dryly, "Yes he's my uncle, my mother's brother. He brought back word from London that Louis is now willing to make peace, to depart the kingdom. He meets on Tuesday with Pembroke andHubert de Burgh to discuss terms.""I'm glad.""Are you truly, Joanna? After all, Llewelyn is allied with Louis ...""But Henry is my brother. Of course I want him to win.""What is troubling you, then? Is it that you think Llewelyn may not be willing to make peace with Henry?""No, it's not that. Llewelyn will eventually come to terms with the English .. . once they make it worth his while."Isabelle had rarely heard Joanna sound so cynical, but she was amused nonetheless. "Your husband can charm, but he can also calculate finely enough to split hairs. In that, he's always reminded me of John," she said, and laughed. But Joanna did not. "Joanna . . . what is it? Is it Llewelyn?"Joanna hesitated. "Yes." Rising, she moved restlessly to the window. "It began this summer, when Reginald de Braose submitted to Henry. To the Welsh, that was a betrayal. Llewelyn was furious, made up his mind to teach Reginald a sharp lesson. But I... I could not see it in the same light. I could think only of Gwladystorn between husband and father. We quarreled, and he departed with angry words between us. As it turned out, he brought Reginald to heel in short order. He swept into Brecknock, and as soon as he crossed the border into Cower, Reginald hastened to meet him at Llangiwg, humbled his pride a yielded up the castle of Swansea to Llewelyn. It was a quick and bio less triumph for the Prince. But an utter failure for the father.""Was Gwladys very distraught?" .,g"No," Joanna said reluctantly, and then managed a rueful s "In truth, she was not. Llewelyn can do no wrong in her eyes, an hinks he was perfectly justified. To Gwladys, there is but one side to any quarrelthe Welsh.""I see. Well, then, do you not think you may have . . . overreacted somewhat?""You need not be so tactful. Say what you mean, that I was really eacting to past pain of my own. Of course I was. But that does not hange the fact thatLlewelyn put political aims above his daughter's welfare-""Darling, men do that all the time. At least, ambitious men do ... and is there any other kind?" Isabelle rose, too, followed Joanna to the window. "Iarn sorry, though, Joanna. I've known a few women who were well and truly in love. But you were the only one in love with her Ovvn husband! I admit I never thought it would last, yet I hoped for your sake that it might."Joanna had been listening in surprise. "I once told Llewelyn that I did not always like him, and this summer was for certes one of those times. But Istill do love him, Isabelle . . . and fear for him. Over the past eleven years, I've learned to live with his wars, with the knowledge that a well-aimed spear or arrow could make me a widow at any moment. But now . . .now he is under sentence of excommunication, and that pushes my fear beyond endurance. I'll not deny I find it hard, knowing he is always going to putGwynedd first. But he found it hard, too, being wed to John's daughter. And no

matter how angry he makes me, I could not envision my life without him . . .even now, when our marriage is admittedly at low tide!""I am glad, Joanna," Isabelle said, and meant it, although she remained convinced that a love so intense was no gift of God. "Now tell me," she said, because she knew it would please Joanna, "about Elen and your Davydd. From your letters, I suspect that he is your favorite, no?""No!" Joanna protested