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

whoreson is set upon getting us to Rhuddlan as fast he can, no matter the risk."Edwin had been about to ask who were these Romans, but with his cousin's last words, he forgot all else, stared at Godfrey in amazement. De Hodnet was aNorman, a knight; to Edwin, that made him a being beyond criticism. He glanced ahead at the knight, his eyes lingering admiringly upon the man's roan stallion, the silvery chain-mail armor. He felt no resentment that de Hodnet should ride while they walked. That was just the way of it, and now he ventured a timid protest."But Godfrey, surely he knows what he's doing. After all, he's a knight.""So? Does that make him the Lord Jesus Christ come down to earth again?"Godfrey sneezed. "Think you that no man Norman-born can be a fool? As for hisNorman knighthood, that'll count for naught against a Welsh longbow.""Should you speak so?" Edwin asked uneasily, provoking a snort of derisive laughter from his cousin."You think he'll hear? Nay, he knows just enough English to order us about."Godfrey reached out, grasped Edwin's arm. "If a man is like to lead you over a cliff, Little Cousin, you'd best see him for what he is. De Hodnet wears a long sword and sits a horse well, but he's no more fit to wage war against theWelsh than our Aunt Edith. He's as green as grass, lad, and as arrogant asLucifer, and there are no more dangerous traits known to man or God."Edwin stared at him, dismayed. "But . . . but he's been taught the ways of war. All knights ...""Aye, and I daresay he'd fare well enough on a battlefield in France orFlanders. But what does he know of the Welsh? He was in service with Lord FitzWarin for a time, did garrison duty at Fitz Warin's manor of Lambourne inBerkshire. After that, he found a place with a Wiltshire lord. Then his lord took the cross like King Richard, and de HodnetI

57had no urge to see the Holy Land." Godfrey sneezed again, spat into the road."Shropshire, Berkshire, Wiltshire. But not Wales, Edwin, not Wales."He shook his head, said bitterly, "Giles tried to tell him, warned him that the risk be too great, what with Llewelyn known to be in the area. But whatNorman ever heeded Saxon advice? He does not know his arse from his elbow when it comes to fighting the Welsh, but he gives the orders, we obey, and if we reach Rhuddlan Castle, it'll be only by the grace of the Almighty."Edwin glanced over his shoulder at the shadowed, wet woods that rose up around them, dark spruce and pine blotting out the sky, giving shelter behind every bush to a Welsh bowman. The Welsh scorned the crossbow, preferred a weapon called a longbow, and they used it with deadly skill. According to Godfrey, aWelsh bowman could fire twelve arrows in the time it took to aim and fire one crossbow; he swore he once saw a Welsh bowman send an arrow through an oaken door fully four inches thick. Remembering that, Edwin hunched his shoulders forward, suddenly sure that even at that moment a Welsh arrow was being launched at his back."Who is Llewelyn?" he asked at last, and at once regretted it, for Godfrey gave him an incredulous look."God keep me if you are not as ignorant as de Hodnet!" But Edwin's discomfort was so painfully obvious that he relented somewhat. "You do know that Davydd ab Owain claims to rule most of North Wales? Well, Llewelyn ab lorweth is his nephew and sworn enemy. They've been warring for nigh on six years, and were Ito wager on the outcome, I'd want my money on Llewelyn. He's not much older than you, I hear, yet he's been able to get the people on his side, has forcedDavydd on the defensive. Davydd still holds a few strongholds like RhuddlanCastle, but Llewelyn now controls the countryside, owns the night."Edwin decided he did not want to hear any more, lapsed into a subdued silence.The rain had ceased, but the small patches of sky visible through the trees were an ominous leaden grey. Although it was unusually mild for January, Edwin shivered each time the wind caught his gambeson. Stuffed with rags, quilted like eiderdown, it suddenly seemed a poor substitute for de Hodnet's chain-mail hauberk. He ran his hand over the padding, trying to convince himself that it could deflect a lance.As the men moved deeper into the woods, so, too, deepened their sense of unease. They were bunching up, all but treading upon each other's heels, moving at an unusually brisk pace for men who'd been on the march all day.Edwin paused to fish a pebble from his boot, sprinted

58to catch up. Panting, he slowed, came to a bewildered halt. The men had stopped, were gathered around Giles. Edwin squeezed into the circle, straining to hear.Edwin was very much in awe of Giles. A dark, saturnine man in his forties, laconic and phlegmatic, he was renowned for his icy composure, and Edwin was stunned now to hear the raw emotion that crackled and surged in his voice."We've taken too great a risk as it is, should have followed the coast road.But if we take this path, we are begging to be ambushed!""I do not agree. We're losing the light, are wasting time even now that we can ill afford to squander. I have an urgent dispatch for Davydd ab Owain, a message that comes from His Grace, the Earl of Chester. I swore to my lordMontalt that I'd get it to Rhuddlan without delay, and that is what I mean to do."Giles stepped forward, stopped before the roan stallion. "Sir Walter, I urge you to heed what I say. You do not know the Welsh, you do not know how they fight. This is not war as you learned it. It is bloody, brutal work, with no quarter given. Let me tell you about the battle of Crogen.