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

of England. It was only by the luck of the angels that I survived it, that I did not lose all, that Gwynedd did not become an English shire." He paused, put his hand upon Gruffydd's arm."I see so much of myself in you, Gruffydd. But in just three days Ishall be forty and five, and you're not yet twenty and two. I want you to be able to benefit from my years, my experience. I do not want you to make the same mistakes I did.""Whatever mistakes you may have made in the past, Papa, they are nothing when compared to the one you're about to make now." But the emotion in Gruffydd's voice was no longer anger, and as he looked at Llewelyn now, his green eyes were misty, almost pleading. "England has a boy King, Papa. This is aGod-given opportunity for us, and you're throwing it away. You're throwing it away and I cannot understand why!"Llewelyn's hand slipped from Gruffydd's arm. "No," he said at last, "you truly cannot, can you?""Papa, you're not a coward. I'd kill any man who called you one. But why, then, must you make the craven choice, demean yourself before men not worthy of your piss? Why will you not""This discussion is done, Gruffydd. I go to Worcester next month to meet withHenry. And this time you shall go with me.""No! Never!""You will have to live with the lords of Henry's court, have to deal withPembroke and Chester and Peter des Roches. So it is time you met them, learned what manner of men they are.""No, Papa. I will not go.""Yes," Llewelyn said, "you will," and Gruffydd's eyes were the nrst to waver.He swung about, all but fled across the bailey. Llewelyn le* him go, for he knew he'd won. But it was not a victory to give him l°y- He stood motionless, staring down at Gruffydd's footprints in the snow, and suddenly he was remembering a childhood mishap, remem^ring that long-ago encounter with Walter de Hodnet.'God help you, Gruffydd," he said softly, "but you'd never have °ne whatWalter demanded. You'd have forced him to break your arm, 0 'eave you maimed for life."ja ELYN found Joanna by the river wall in the Bishop of Worcester's en«- It had been a wet, chill March, and nights of killing frost had

516T517wreaked havoc among the Bishop's early-blooming crocus plants Joanna was bundled up in a fur-lined mantle, but as Llewelyn reached her, she exclaimed, "Listen to that. A curlew, a sure harbinger of corning spring.""My teeth are chattering too much to hear it. Are you not ready to come back to the Bishop's palace?""Well. . ." Joanna hesitated. "What I'd truly like to do now is to go into the church, to light a candle for my father." Although she knew she did not have to ask permission, her voice rose questioningly, nonetheless. Seventeen months after his death, John was still a sensitive subject between them."That's probably a good idea," Llewelyn said dryly, leaving unsaid the rest of his thought, that John's soul was in need of all the prayers he could get."Come on," he said, sliding his arm around Joanna's waist. "I'll walk over with you."Joanna was very pleased. "Admit it," she teased, "it did bother you, all those months when you could not enter a church. It had to, for how could you be sureGod was on your side?""Just between you and me, breila, I've always suspected that the Almighty wasWelsh," Llewelyn said, and they both laughed. They were still laughing as they entered the north door of the church, moved into the nave. But their laughter stopped abruptly a moment later, for they were face to face with Joanna'sUncle Will and his wife.Joanna had known such a meeting was inevitable, but she'd been dreading it all the same. Her feelings for Will were hopelessly entangled. She could not reproach him for deserting her father, not when she felt herself to be guilty of the same sin. But she could not help remembering what Isabelle had told her, how devastated John had been by Will's betrayal, and that memory drained all warmth, all vivacity from her voice.Her greeting was so lame, so unlike her that Will flushed. "I see, he said flatly. "So you, too, judge me.""No," Joanna said, without much conviction."Isabelle and Richard blame me. But I expected you to be fairer than they, Joanna. After all, you made a choice, too, did you not? You disavowed John to please your husband, and if you ever cared about tn grief that gave John, he never knew it!"The words were no sooner out of his mouth than Will would ha given anything to recall them. Joanna looked so stricken that he swept with remorse. No matter how raw his nerves had gotten,^ was no excuse for taking out his pain upon the lass, and he started her so, to offer his apologies. 5.But Llewelyn forestalled him, saying scathingly, "Joanna wa tranged from John over a matter of conscience. She could not stomach the murder of children. You, however, seem to have had no such qualms. For three full years after the Nottingham hangings, you continued to keep faith withJohn, to benefit from his favor. You did not abandon him until he seemed sure to be beaten, until you thought Louis likely to""No!" Will had flushed even darker. "That's not so," he said in a choked voice. "It was not self-interest. It was because of what John did to my wife, to Ela. It was only then that she told me . . . told me that whilst I was a prisoner in France, John sought to seduce her."It was suddenly very quiet in the church. Llewelyn and Joanna both appeared dumbfounded. Will swallowed. "I'm sorry, Joanna," he said miserably. "I did not mean to tell you that..."Joanna was staring, not at him, but at Ela. For a long moment their eyes held, and then she said, "It's all right, Uncle