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

now leaned over Llewelyn's chair, murmured a f^ words, and he rose."Alun will escort you to the great hall, where our cooks have set out a meal for you. I'll join you directly I put this hellion to bed." Gruffyd

237ally- "Why?" he blurted out. "Why should you risk John's enmity for us''Llewelyn looked amused. "Scriptures set forth Commandments for11 Christians to honor. But my people honor other commandments, too, u se that speak to the difficulties of dwelling in England's shadow. Let t an enemy be thy neighbor. It is no deceit to deceive a deceiver. And the enemy of my enemy is my friend."Baldwin nodded slowly. "So you see John, then, as your enemy?" Llewelyn smiled. "I said that?" Reaching over, he clinked his cup against Stephen's."Croeso i Gymru, Steffan. Welcome, Stephen, to Wales."THE man seated at Baldwin's left had been introduced to him as Rhys ap Cadell, but he seemed little inclined to polite conversation. The man on his right wasGwyn ab Ednywain, Llewelyn's Seneschal; he was friendly enough, but at the moment was concentrating all his attentions upon the food being ladled from chafing dishes: venison baked in coffyn pies; boiled pears flavored with honey, dates, and cinnamon; oatcakes; roast heron. It was, Baldwin acknowledged, a meal fit to grace any Norman table. He was beginning to think his stay in Wales would not be so great a hardship after all.He glanced around the hall with interest. Except that it was a ground-floor structure, it looked exactly like any Norman hall: three parallel rows of wooden pillars, the side aisles occupied by beds and partitioned off by screens. He and Stephen had slept here last night, as comfortably as ever they had in Fulk's Alberbury Castle, had been given places of honor near the hearth.Llywarch, Llewelyn's court bard, now moved toward the center aisle, carrying a small harp. The hall quieted at once. Men laid down their knives and spoons to listen as he began a haunting ballad, not a word of which Baldwin understood.He was rather surprised that Llywarch had so much standing at Llewelyn's court, being treated by all as a man of importance. Bards and minstrels enjoyed no such privileged status in England. There was much that Baldwin found odd in Llewelyn's world, but gratitude was proving stronger than bias, and he was determined to adapt as best he could. When the song ended, conversa"°n resumed again, and he leaned forward with interest when he heard tephen say, "You expect war with your cousin, Meredydd ap Cynan, my lordLlewelyn?"'It may well come to that. When my cousin GruffyddMeredydd's "otherdid die last year of a wasting fever, I laid claim to his lands. As at gave me most ofGwynedd above the Conwy and all of Gwynedd

138below the Conwy, Meredydd took it amiss, and there's been naught bi discord between us for months now."Llewelyn did not sound particularly grieved about this, and Balj win smothered a smile with his napkin. He did not know Meredydd ao Cynan, but he had a strong suspicion that, having snapped at the bait Meredydd was about to bite down upon the hook.Llewelyn drained his wine cup. "I was sorry to hear of your lor(j father's death, Stephen.""Thank you, my lord. His death was a tragedy twice over for us, as Walter is now laying claim to my father's estates, lands that should by rights have passed to Baldwin.""I see. Baldwin is under attainder, so Walter moves in for the kill."Stephen nodded glumly. "And there is little we can do to stop him.""Mayhap not. But I rather think I can. Shall I?""You mean that? Jesu, we'd be ever in your debt! Baldwin, did you hear?"Baldwin did not share Stephen's excitement. "That would be very kind of you, my lord," he said slowly, "but in truth, I do not see how you can help."Llewelyn's smile was suddenly cool. "You'd not care to wager upon that?"Stephen laughed. "I'd not take him up on that, Baldwin. You see, Walter has long owed him a debt!"Llewelyn laughed, too. "Not so, Stephen. That debt was discharged in full some eight years ago; did Walter never tell you? No, this I do for you."Stephen did not reply; he was staring across the hall, at the man standing in the door. A slender, silver-haired priest in his mid-forties, he looked somehow familiar to Stephen. "My lord Llewelyn, I may be wrong, but is that not your chaplain, Morgan ap Bleddyn?"Llewelyn turned at once. "Yes, it is. Strange, he knew I'd be back atAberffraw by week's end. I wonder what could not wait. . .""My lord ..." Morgan knelt, rose stiffly to his feet. "A word with you, if Imay . . . alone."Llewelyn pushed his chair back. "Morgan, are you ill? I've seen corpse candles with more color. Here, take some wine ...""Llewelyn ..." The priest waved the cupbearer away. "If we might retire behind the screen ..."Llewelyn moved around the table, grasped the older man by the arm. "Tell me,"he said. "Tell me now.""It happened yesterday morn. Tangwystl was entering the chapel*' somehow she stumbled, fell upon the stairs. As soon as your doctor saV

139birth pangs had begun, he did summon the midwives." Morgan oped, drew a deep breath. "You have a daughter, Llewelyn. I'll not to you; she's fearfully tiny and frail. But with our prayers . . .""I'll leave for Aberffraw as soon as the horses can be saddled. You IdTangwystl you were coming to fetch me?""Llewelyn . . . she began to bleed. The midwives, they did what they could, but. . . they could not save her, lad.""She's dead?" Llewelyn's was the calm of utter disbelief. He stared at Morgan, saw tears well in the priest's eyes. He was aware now of the others. The hall was very quiet, but all else looked as it had only moinents before. Dogs still lurked under the tables, snarling over bones. Summer sun still spilled through the unshuttered windows. Out in the bailey