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

affection. Now she knew thatEdnyved vva* .^ ally, that he alone of her husband's friends did not want to see Gm -as Prince of North Wales."Did Llewelyn tell you why he wants us all here like this."You know Llewelyn better than that, Ednyved. When he's truly troubled, he keeps his own counsel." And Llewelyn was troubled, that loanna knew. So didEdnyved. They shared that awareness with no need of words, then glanced expectantly toward the door.But it was not Llewelyn. At sight of her son, Joanna half rose. "Davydd, you'd best come back later, after your father's council is done.""But Papa told me to come, Mama. He said I ought to be here." Davydd glanced uncertainly about the chamber. He knew all in the room very well, but he was somewhat self-conscious nonetheless, and was grateful when his mother slid over, made room for him beside her in the window seat. As flattered as he was to be here, he was nervous, too, as nervous as the first time Llewelyn had taken him hunting. Gruffydd had spoiled that memory for him; Davydd still flushed sometimes, remembering Gruffydd's scorn when he missed his target, shot his arrow a full foot over the roebuck's withers. But Gruffydd was not here now to mar his pleasure in this, his first inclusion into the world of politics and statecraft, into the world of men."What does Papa want to tell us?" he whispered, and Joanna shook her head."I would that I knew!"Llewelyn entered as she was speaking. He stood for an unusually lengthy time in the doorway, as if reluctant to enter, and once he was in the room, he seemed in no hurry to begin. He crossed to the table and picked up a wine cup, only to set it down untasted. The people in this chamber were those closest to him, those who'd celebrated his triumphs and endured his defeats, those who had the right to know what he meant to do. His eyes moved slowly from face to face. His brother Adda. Rhys. Morgan. Ednyved. Joanna. He could only hope they'd try to understand . . . and try to forgive.His gaze lingered the longest upon his son. Davydd was now in his twelfth year, poised for entry into the uncharted terrain that lay between boyhood and manhood. A child and yet not a child, this youngest s°n of his. When he

finally spoke, it was to Davydd."What can you tell me, Davydd, about the English laws of inheritance?"Flustered to find himself suddenly the cynosure of all eyes, Davydd durted out, "The eldest son gets all," only then to be seized with °ubts, with the sinking sensation that he'd misfired another arrow. But s «ther nodded, as if satisfied.L|e You/re right, lad. That is the crux of it, the heart of the matter."agteVelyn/S eyCS Ieft the boy' shifted toward the others. "I think we'd all e 'hat ours is a more just way. We do not leave younger sons to gain am

524their bread as best they can; we divide a man's holdings equa]i amongst all his sons. But Scriptures say a kingdom divided against its ]i shall be made desolate. Is that not so, Morgan?"He did not wait for confirmation. "I've ofttimes spoken to you my grandfather, Joanna. But I've not said much of his brother. The was naught but envy and dissension between them, a sharp rivalry th lasted the whole of their lives.And when my grandfather died, his son fought for Gwynedd, not against theEnglish, but against each other My father was slain by his own kindred."He turned away from the table, moved toward the center of the room. "Ours is a bloody past, but no bloodier than that of Powys and Deheubarth. There, too, a prince's death inevitably brought about the same slaughter, brother against brother. Verily, a man reading our history might well conclude that Cain andAbel, too, were Welsh That is the ugliest of our legacies, that the sons of our princes must seize power over the bodies of their brothers. It is not a legacy I want to leave my sons.""What you say is true, Llewelyn. It is not in man's nature to share a kingdom.And because it is not, Welsh princes love their brothers not Indeed, had Ibeen born whole of body, the affections of our boyhood might not have survived the ambitions of our manhood. A disquieting thought, that, but who is to say?Yet there is nothing to be done about it Our ways are not always easy, but they are ancient and revered, and above all, they are ours.""You're wrong, Adda. There is something I can do. Amongst God's Commandments, which one says that the laws of Hywel the Good cannot be changed?"A shocked silence greeted so blasphemous a suggestion. Why were men so set upon clinging to the past at all costs? Why did the phrase "as it's always been done" give them such false comfort? Llewelyn's was an old and familiar impatience, made all the sharper now by his anxiety, and he said abruptly, almost defiantly, "I do not expect you to agree with me. But so be it. Isummoned you here to tell you that I have decided to bequeath my realm to one son, as the English kings do.Davydd heard his mother whisper, "Oh, dear God," and there was so much fear in her voice that he was suddenly afraid, too, both or w his father would say next and of shaming himself before an audience adults. He sat very still, scarcely breathing, thinking not of crowns an kingdoms but of Gruffydd, the firstborn son, the Welsh-born son, best-loved. ^"Our people love you well, Llewelyn. But in this you ask too ^ I do not think they'll willingly forsake a custom so deeply rooted m ^ past, accept in its stead the practice of our enemies. To men rea

525concept of equality amongst sons, such a change would be both alien and offensive "Even before Morgan had finished