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

How can I let you risk so much on my behalf?" She saw his facedark, haggard, but still handsomethrough a haze of tears. "I know. . . know what I ought to do. But I am not strong enough, beloved, cannot give you up . . .""The decision is mine, Joanna, not yours. You bear no responsibility for it."He held up his hand, halting his men upon the pathway, and taking the reins ofJoanna's mount, he led her off the road into the woods.He drew rein in the shadow of a silver birch, stripped naked by winter winds.The ground was covered by decaying leaves, broken branches. Joanna inhaled the scent of spruce, the scent of the sea. "You said our reconciliation was worth the risk. But is it, Llewelyn? Is it truly worth what you might lose?"He did not answer at once; his eyes swept the horizon, tracked a cormorant's shooting dive into the sea. "When I came to you last night, it was

notknowinglywith thoughts of reconciliation. I was seeking answers only you could give me, Joanna, seeking to cauterize a wound that would not heal. But as I listened to you, I found myself able to understand why it had happened.It was not my wife who lay with Will de Braose; it was John's daughter. Once Irealized that, I could balance the scales without bitterness, balance a marriage against a mistake

682albeit a monumental one." His last words were sardonic; his smile was not. "I want you by my side again, in my bed, at my table, as my lady lover, wife.""They will never understand," she said unsteadily, and he nodded "Probably not. I daresay I'll forfeit a great measure of goodwill.There will be men who'll think I've lost my wits, am in my dotage .Jknow that. But they'll govern their tongues in my hearing. That," he said coolly, "I can damned well guarantee.""Llewelyn . . . are you sure? Am I truly worth it?""Do you remember what you said last night about the de Braose marriages?" He leaned over, dried her tears with the back of his hand."This time, Joanna, this time I do mean to put you first."NEITHER Welsh culture nor Welsh topography had been conducive to the development of English-style towns and villages. Small settlements had sprung up, however, around Llewelyn's manors at Aber, Llanfaes, and Trefriw, and monasteries often served, too, as beacons for community life. So it was for the cathedral church of St Deiniol at Bangor Fawr yn Arfon, episcopal see for the diocese of Bangor.Although official fairs and markets were unknown in Llewelyn's domains, informal markets thrived wherever people tended to congregate, and this was such a market day in Bangor. Stalls had been set up in the churchyard, and the marketplace and street were crowded with those who'd come to barter, to browse, and to gossip with their neighbors. Vendors sold hot pies and rolled out kegs of ale for the thirsty; itinerant pedlars loudly hawked their wares;animals offered for trade added to the clamor. It was the sort of chaotic market scene Joanna had often seen in England, but with a distinctly Welsh flavor, boisterous bedlam that ceased within moments of her arrival in their midst.Llewelyn was known on sight to all in Bangor; to many, he was the only Prince they'd ever known. He'd first gained political power at twenty-one, and now, in his fifty-eighth year, he was well enshrined in local legend, eclipsing even his famous grandfather in the folklore of his people, the uncrownedPrince of Wales. As word circulated that he'd just ridden into the town, men and women deserted the market stalls and the wrestling and archery bouts; some even abandoned a bloody cockfight, those with no money on the outcome.But the cheering stopped abruptly as the people recognized Joanna. She heard shocked murmurings spreading through the crowd, heard the name Siwan repeated in growing wonder. As men doffed their caps/ Llewelyn held his stallion to a stately canter, and then slowed to a walkJoanna paced her mount with his, but her mouth was dry, her hear

683pounding. She knew that men ofttimes drew false cov^companionship, knew, too, that the Welsh were mor^ a§e ltQavved by rank than the English, and she waited now j Ol)'spok %shouts of derision. °r *he jA^ m 'None came. Llewelyn reined in before one of t^ S 1^ gk 8* 't throat is right parched. What have you for such a thir^-^lc}^ ^^xM^011!^ /"Wine, my lord. But it is poor stuff, not fit for YOUJ- ' 'Or hJprotested, while fumbling for a clean, uncracked cup.'^/'tk '^ n, ^"'"It will do," Llewelyn said, and smiled at the ^x [ v , slowly, keeping his eyes upon the crowd; he found nojja*V kje^QIJ)''4f his gaze. "Here, love, drink," he said, in Welsh, not J; W'^rie t Vx**"a u the cup out to Joanna. rench, ar^>*A «-, ^ v /She could not swallow, but she obediently put Wt* ~ots«i^n' i 'ffl mouth. Llewelyn never carried money himself, but ^e CUP ^'J btiu^TT and one of his men tossed a coin to the vendor. It was ^, .®estured" i*lc'l,Vj f lyn urged his mount forward; Joanna followed. The^ still , <x ^ o) ^/watching in stunned silence. rovvd fej, ^ n ^ * f'tThe road to Aber wound its way along the seaco^s '^^esllls^!|/perb view of the strait, but Joanna had eyes only for h^ ' °'%inp ^«»sd IkS*T^' was still astonished at their reprieve, so sure had sh^, Lsban* it*i» Lit. i iv,i / _t4±i ± iv.1L7±t^.v **«»v*i. ivtji iv^t.i_»i i_ p-i^*. »vv»vj ' [nat c Ud T 11 Alyn's profile. Not in my hearing, he'd said, and it was n^ ^a'1 ^ r A1^ <=> u% L had happened in Bangor was as much a testament to ^( rava<)0 v%-ujisii * s^^ to his power. But then, she