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

can pay for my release; you need only name your price. My father""You do not remember me, do you?"Bewildered, Walter shook his head. "We've met? My lord, I think not. I would"Llewelyn was still smiling. "A pity your memory is so poor, Walter de Hodnet.For I do remember you, all too well."This was no pretense, Llewelyn saw; Walter was genuinely baffled. He stood looking down at the Norman knight, and then, abruptly tiring

63f this cat-and-mouse game, he said, "I think you'll remember if you put ur mjnd to it. Think back some years, to a summer noon and a rneadow beyondShrewsbury, to a chestnut gelding and a fearful tenyear-old boy.""I still do not" Walter began, and then sucked in his breath.Llewelyn saw his face twitch, saw his eyes glaze over with horror, and he said, "You see? You have not forgotten me, after all."Rhys and Ednyved had been following this exchange with increasing curiosity.Now Rhys demanded, "What is this English to you, Llewelyn?""A man who has long owed me a debt." Speaking rapidly in Welsh, Llewelyn gave them a terse summary of that long-ago encounter by Yokethul Brook, concluding in French, "So what say you? What shall I do with him?"Rhys's eyes flicked to Walter. "Need you ask? Kill him," he said, without hesitation. He'd answered in Welsh, for he used French only under duress, but it was obvious that Walter understood; he was ashen."Ednyved?"Ednyved shrugged. "This English is such a dolt, it would be almost a shame to lose him; never have I seen a man so eager to be ambushed. And he is the brother of your friend. Would his death grieve Stephen?""I very much doubt it," Llewelyn said dryly, saw Walter flinch, and thought that Stephen had just unknowingly gained vengeance for a childhood of beatings and intimidation."Well, I can think of no other reasons to spare him, Llewelyn. There are too many English as it is; one less would be no loss. This grievance you hold against him, how deep does it fester?"Llewelyn smiled at that. "Is there ever a time when you do not go right to the heart of the matter? The answer is, of course, that it does not . . not anymore."He gazed down at Walter, his eyes thoughtful. And then he turned, for Rosser was approaching with a burning pine torch."Ah, at last." Breaking the seal, he held the parchment up to the light."Let's see what message is worth the lives of three men." Beginning to read, he laughed aloud, beckoned to those within hearing range."It seems King Richard had more to fear from his fellow Christian crusaders than he did from the infidels. On his way back from the Holy Land, he fell into the hands of his erstwhile ally, the Duke of Austria, and is being held for ransom by the German Emperor!"His men had gathered around to listen. They burst out laughing, too, began to exchange markedly unsympathetic quips about the English King's plight.Llewelyn was rapidly scanning the rest of the letter. "Wait, you've

64yet to hear the best of it. When word reached England, Richard's brother John did himself proud in the finest tradition of Cain and Abel, at once set about gaining the crown for himself. He's sailed for France, where he means to ally himself with the French King Philip. It seems they plan to offer the Emperor an even larger ransom not to let Richard go!"Llewelyn was elated, for nothing better served Welsh interests than English discord. God had indeed been good to Wales, he thought, in giving Richard a brother as untrustworthy as John. With Richard languishing in some Austrian castle and John scheming to steal the throne, the English would be too taken up with their own troubles to have time to spare for Welsh conquest. That meant he'd have a free hand to move against Davydd, to force a battle that would break his uncle's power once and for all."One good turn deserves another, so I wish John well," he said, and laughed again. "For although he does not know it yet, he's going to give me Gwynedd.""I do not doubt it, my Prince," Ednyved said with mock servility, "but at the moment you're a rebel on the run, and we'd best be gone ere any of thoseEnglish soldiers reach Rhuddlan. Now," jerking his head toward their captives, "what mean you to do about them?""To tell you true, Ednyved, I have not made up my mind." Llewelyn walked over, looked down at his prisoners.Godfrey tensed, and then blurted out in broken French, "My lord, spare my cousin. He's but a lad of eighteen; do not put him to the knife, I beg you.""Why should I put any of you to the knife? There are but two legitimate times for torture, when a man has information you must have or when he has committed a sin so great that justice demands he suffer for it." But Godfrey did not fully believe him, Llewelyn saw.And what of Walter de Hodnet? A rare jest of God, in truth, that de Hodnet should fall into his hands now, years too late. Walter was mute; but his eyes pleaded with anguished eloquence."You fear more than death, do you not?" Llewelyn said slowly. "You think Imean to extract every ounce of mortal suffering for a boyhood wrong. A pity, Walter, you know so little of the Welsh. You see, we have a saying amongst my people: O hir ddyled ni ddyhr dim. 'From an old debt, nothing is due.'"Walter stared up at him in utter disbelief. Rhys looked no less startled, butEdnyved laughed, as if at some private joke."I thought it was your ambition to be Prince of Gwynedd, Llewelyn. Are you seeking sainthood, too?""I know you're woefully ignorant of the Scriptures, Ednyved, but

65en V°u must have heard: 'Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord.'" Llewe-1 n paused, and then added in Welsh, "Of course, we do have another verb i rather fancy: The best revenge, contempt.'" Ednyved nodded,