Here Be Dragons - 1 by Sharon Penman (best ebook reader android TXT) 📗

the table, gained time to think by pouring himself a cupful of cider.He poured, too, for Will, stood for a moment looking down at the older man.So, he thought suddenly, must their father have looked at thirty-four, forWill had Henry's reddish gold hair, his ruddy coloring, even the same scattering of freckles across the bridge of the nose."Just suppose, Will, that you are right, that I do mean to throw my lot in with Philip. If you had proof of that, what would you do? Go to my lady mother? Betray me to Richard?"Will's shoulders slumped. "No," he mumbled, full of self-loathing. "You know Icould not.""Do not begrudge me your loyalty, Will. I deserve it more than Richard, for he loves you not and I love you well." John thrust a dripping cider cup intoWill's hand, took the closest seat. "I even love you enough to trust you with the truth. Did you by chance see a monk in the great hall when you arrived?That is Brother Bernard de Coudray, Phiup's man. You were right, of course;Philip has indeed made me an offer. 'All the lands of England and Normandy on the French side of the Channel.' I need only swear homage to him as overlord, and once we get his sister Alais out of Richard's power, take her to wife."

50Will choked on his cider, began to sputter. "Christ Jesus, John! You cannot mean that? You'd truly agree to wed Alais?""Why not?"Will drew a strangled breath. "For one thing," he snapped, "you already do have a wife! Or did that somehow slip your mind?"John drank to conceal a grin; his brother's ponderous attempts at sarcasm never failed to amuse him, but he did not want to offend Will by laughing outright. "Have you forgotten that Avisa is my second cousin? Or that we neglected to get a papal dispensation for our marriage? Nor need your heart bleed for Avisa, the abandoned wife. We may not agree on much, but we do share a deep and very mutual dislike.""But Alais! She bedded with Papa for years and all know it, even bore him a stillborn son!"John shrugged. "Being Papa's concubine does not make her any less Philip's sister, and if she's the price for Philip's support... at least we'd be keeping her in the family!""That's not amusing, John! How can you jest about betrayal and treason, a marriage all but incestuous?"John set his cup down with a thud. "What would you have me do? It's been sixteen months since Richard named our dead brother Geoffrey's son as his heir, nine months since my lady mother coerced him into taking a Spanish wife.Nine months, Will. For all I know, she could already be with child. What if she is, if she manages a miracle, keeps Richard in her bed long enough to give him a son?""Ah, John . . . you'd still be Count of Mortain, Earl of Gloucester, with an income of four thousand pounds a year. Can you not content yourself with that?"John stared at him, and then gave a short, incredulous laugh. "God help you, Will, I truly think you're serious!"Until that moment, Will had been slow to see the magnitude of his mistake. Had he really thought he could talk sense into John? All he'd done was to take on a share of the guilt, to compromise himself in the complicity of silence."Do not leave on the morrow, Will. Stay till week's end. How is your manor atKirton? This was a bad year for crops; if you're in need of money ..."Will had no false pride, saw no reason to refuse aid from John, not when he had only the manors of Kirton and Appleby, and John had the revenues from six shires. He made a point, though, of not abusing John's generosity, never asking unless there was a specific need. "Thank you, lad, no. I do not""My lord!" A flustered servant stumbled into the chamber. "My lord, the Queen has just ridden into the bailey!"

51John spilled his cider. "That cannot be! My mother is in Normandy.""No, my lord, she's in the great hall.""You both are wrong," a cool voice said from the doorway. "I'm out in the stairwell."VVill jumped to his feet. He was very much in awe of John's mother, forEleanor of Aquitaine was more than the widow of one King, mother to another.She was a creature rarer even than the unicorn, a woman who, all her life, had been a law unto herself, as Duchess of Aquitaine, then as Queen of France, and finally as Queen of England. She had in her past two failed royal marriages, a crusade, scandal and lovers, even a rebellion, for when Henry betrayed her, she'd incited their sons to civil War, had spent sixteen years in confinement as a result. But she'd won in the end, had outlived the husband who'd shut her away from the world, from her beloved Aquitaine. Moreover, she had somehow survived those bitter years with her soul unscarred, her spirit unbroken.Upon regaining her freedom, she had, at age sixty-nine, journeyed to Navarre to fetch a bride for her favorite son, brought the girl across the Alps toRichard in Sicily. She was now in her seventy-first year, and in the high, elegantly hollowed cheekbones, the posture that conceded nothing to age, and the slanting green-gold eyes, Will could still see traces of the great beauty she'd once been. He was both fascinated and repelled by this woman who'd dared to outrage every tenet of the code governing proper female behavior, but he was glad, nonetheless, to see her now, for she was the one person John might not dare to defy.Will watched as John greeted her with guarded formality, did not mind in the least when she made it pleasantly yet perfectly plain that his presence was not required. In a contest of wills between John and his mother, he did not think John would prevail, indeed hoped he would not. But he did not