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

Matilda watched on recent evenings as Eleanor pieced together her past with the gossamer strands of memory whileJoanna listened, intent and enthralled, she found herself wondering if Eleanor was not reaching out to right a wrong, seeing in this hazel-eyed, dark-haired granddaughter the son she'd never loved.This was sheer speculation, she knew; Eleanor was the least fanciful of women, little given to regrets. The thought lingered nonetheless, and she laughed soundlessly now, envisioning what Eleanor's reaction would be should she be so foolish as to confess what she suspected. Joanna sighed, mumbled something unintelligible, and Matilda stooped, touched her hand to the sleeping child's forehead. "She doe5 not feel feverish, but her sleep is not a restful one."Eleanor sat down on the bed. "She fears for her father." "As well she might, poor lass. She's utterly devoted to him." Eleanor looked up at that. "Need you sound so surprised?" she saW

151"Or think you, as do John's enemies, that he is incapable of lovSr being loved?""No, Madame, indeed not. I would not presume upon our friendto speak ill of your son. But I must admit to being troubled by some5, £s acts, such as how infrequently he does partake of the Holy Sacraments.""That is rash of him, I agree, and I daresay he'll pay a high price for it-""I would hope, Madame, that he will repent in time; God forbid that he should go unshriven to his Maker," the Abbess said with fervor, andEleanor gave her a thin, ironic smile."Indeed. But I was not thinking of his immortal soul, Matilda. I was thinking that history is chronicled by monks."Joanna had begun to whimper in her sleep, and Eleanor leaned over, shook the girl's shoulder. Joanna awoke with a gasp, eyes wide and staring. She had been dreaming of her father, abandoned and alone before Philip and Arthur, but she was reluctant to admit it; it seemed somehow disloyal to John, almost as if she'd be revealing his own fears. She hesitated, and then turned asideEleanor's query with the first lie to come to mind. "Yes, a bad dream ... ofIngeborg.""You must not dwell upon her, Joanna. Hers is a sad fate, yes, but common to women of rank. Would you pity the swan that ends up swimming in gravy upon your father's table? Well, princesses, too, are bred to be sacrificed, as pawns in the marital game. That is just the way of it. Be grateful, rather, that you were spared such a fate, that you need not fear a foreign marriage in a far-off land. Unless, of course, you do yearn for a crown ..." Eleanor smiled, shrewdly certain that Joanna did not.Joanna had long been thankful that her tainted birth so severely reduced her value on the marriage market; her ambitions rose no higher than a manor and children of her own, a husband of respectable rank, ideally a knight of her father's household, so that they might be often at court."No, I would not want a crown, Madame. I would that Papa had not one, either, would that he were still Count of Mortain. Mayhap then he'd be safe . . ."She was hoping for some sort of assurance from her grandmother, an expression of faith that all would go well for John. But Eleanor was turning away, frowning at the woman standing in the antechamber doorway."Your Grace, Sir Aubrey is without, requests an urgent word with you."Joanna sat up on the pallet, pulling the sheet up to her chin. Aubrey

252de Mara was the captain of her grandmother's guards, but Joanna had never known him to seek Eleanor out at such an hour. She watched uneasily as he entered the chamber, knelt before the Queen."Madame, forgive me, but a courier has ridden in, sent by your son The King'sGrace wants you to leave Fontevrault on the morrow, t0 withdraw with all speed into your own lands in Poitou.""Arthur and the de Lusignans?""They've been encamped at Tours, not forty miles to the north, ate now known to be on the road south. The King has left Queen Isabelle in Rouen, is heading for Le Mans. But he fears for you, Madame, as well he should. You'd be a most tempting prize, in truth."Eleanor nodded slowly. "My son is right. We depart for Poitiers at first light. See to it, Sir Aubrey."THEIR journey south proved to be a slow, arduous one. The road was rutted and rock-strewn, the soil cracked and seared by weeks of burning sun, and their horses churned up clouds of thick red dust. Jolted from side to side in her swaying horse litter, Eleanor at last called for a halt. As her servants began to set up a tent so that the Queen might shelter a while from the heat of high noon, Joanna slid from her mare, hastened to join Eleanor in the shade of several elms. In addition to his midnight message for her grandmother, her father's courier had carried two letters for her, a brief dispatch from John instructing her to accompany Eleanor south for safety's sake, and a longer communication from her brother Richard. Clutching this letter, she settled herself in the grass next to Eleanor."Shall I fan you, Madame? I've a letter from my brother; may I read it to you?Richard is serving as squire to the eldest son of Lord de Braose, is with his household in South Wales. He says there is trouble between the de Braose sons and a Welsh Prince, Gwenwynwyn of Powys, that Gwenwynwynwhat queer names theWelsh haveis set upon war.""I'd say, rather, that the de Braoses are the ones set upon war." Eleanor leaned back against the tree, closed her eyes. "Your father did grant them the right to any Welsh lands they could gain by conquest And they know that there has been a shift in our Welsh policy, that John has decided it is more to his advantage to back Gwenwynwyn's chie' rival, Llewelyn, Prince of Gwynedd.""Richard makes mention of him, too .