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

. . Prince Llewelyn. He says Fulk FitzWarm is still in rebellion against Papa, that he has taken refug6 at thisLlewelyn's court. He says, too, that Llewelyn has been pulling r253nors. The familyde Hodnet, they're calleddid hold land of the rbets, andRobert Corbet, as overlord, refused to recognize the younde Hodnet's claim.Richard says all do know the Corbets were acting ^ Llewelyn's behest, he being kin."Joanna frowned. "I met Lord Corbet once, when we were at Worester two years past. Papa granted him the right to hold a weekly market at Caus. I do not think he should be so quick to do a Welsh Prince's bidding, not when thatPrince is aiding men outlawed, men who are papa's sworn enemies."Getting no response, she glanced up, saw that Eleanor was no longer listening.Sweat was glistening at her temples; her face was bleached of color, as white as the linen wimple that hid her hair. "Two years ago," she said, bitterly amused, "I did ride a mule across the Pyrenees, and in the dead of winter, too. But who'd believe that, seeing me now . . .""Madame!" Aubrey was coming toward them at a run. "Madame, our scouts report a large armed force on our trail. I'd wager my life it is the Duke of Brittany and the de Lusignans, that you are the prey."Joanna was amazed to see how rapidly her grandmother seemed to shake off her fatigue. She at once held out her hand for Aubrey's assistance, came quickly to her feet. "If my memory serves," she said coolly, "we are but a few leagues distant from Mirebeau. It's not much of a refuge, but beggars, as they say,

cannot be choosers."Aubrey nodded grimly. "Madame, can you ride astride?" "I shall have to, shan'tI?" Some of her servants were struggling now to dismantle the tent they'd just erected, and Eleanor said impatiently, "For Jesti's sake, let it be!" SeeingJoanna still standing immobile, she gave the girl a push. "Go on, child, make haste to mount. Sir Aubrey . . . which of your men do you most trust?"Aubrey did not hesitate, beckoned to a slight bandy youth, one who looked to have been born in the saddle. "Edmund, take my stallion. Kill him if you have to, but get to Le Mans, get to the King."Edmund did not even pause to acknowledge the command. Vaulting up ontoAubrey's roan, he set off across the fields at a dead run, and within moments was lost from view.MIREBEAU was a walled town in the marches between Anjou and Poitou, having sprung up around a small border castle. It was little more than a village, and the sudden arrival of the Queen created a sensation. Men and women abandoned their daily labors, crowded into the street to strings in Shropshire on behalf of the rebels, that he did prevent a youn-catch a glimpse of the legendary Eleanor of Aquitaine. Aubrey at once ger brother of one of Fitz Warm's vassals from laying claim to his father s set about conscripting men to guard the walls, gave orders to bar the

154town gates as the Queen and her party passed on into the castle bailey There the exhausted Eleanor was assisted from her mare, up into the keep.Relief at having reached Mirebeau was not long in giving way t0 dismay. Even to Joanna's untrained eye, it was all too clear that the castle was in a ruinous state. The moat was clogged with debris and weeds, silted and foul-smelling. The outer curtain walls were constructed of aging timbers, looked likely to tumble down in a stiff wind. The keep itself was a stone-and-mortar tower, but it, too, showed the effects of long neglect.Aubrey, assuming command in the name of the Queen, put the small garrison to work shoring up the walls as best they could, sent men into the town to appropriate food supplies. The women did what they could to convert the solar into a suitable bedchamber for the Queen. And then they waited for the inevitable to occur, waited to be found by the pursuing army, an army led byEleanor's own grandson.They appeared before the town gates as summer twilight slowly darkened thePoitevin countryside, flying high the banners of Arthur, Duke of Brittany, Hugh de Lusignan, Count of La Marche, and his uncle Geoffrey, Lord of Vouvant.A peremptory demand for surrender was rejected with equal dispatch by Aubrey.Negotiations dragged on for a futile time under a perfect crescent moon, and then both sides settled down to pass the night.Soon after sunrise the next day, the negotiations resumed. Arthur and the deLusignans wanted Eleanor alive, and she exploited that, her only advantage, to the fullest, feigning belief in their goodwill, playing desperately for time.They, in their turn, promised whatever they thought likely to lure her out, swore she could continue unmolested on her journey, that she need only agree to cede Poitou to Arthur. Back and forth the lies flew, until Hugh de Lusignan lost patience and gave the command to assault the town walls. The townsmen, unwillingly impressed into a quarrel not of their making, put up only feeble resistance, and by day's end Mirebeau was in enemy hands. The ancient castle alone held out, ripe for the taking.The keep was stifling, its shuttered windows barring entry to cooler night air. Joanna huddled on a bench in the great hall, a plate of food untouched upon her lap. It was quiet now, but her ears still echoed with the cries of the wounded and dying, the screams of the women claimed as spoils of war byArthur's jubilant soldiers. When the assault was first launched, she'd climbed with Eleanor up to the battlements atop the keep, had watched as the town's defenders sought to push aside the scaling ladders, as men plunged screaming to their deaths. Hours later, the horror of it was still very much with her;unable to sleep, she kept

155nspicuously to the shadows, watching as her grandmother and ^ urey sought a viable plan