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

that and yet stupid enough to fall in with Philip's schemes, to so disregard my promise and my warning "Her tone was barbed, each word earned a separate sting And yet John sensed he'd gamed some ground "For what it's worth, I fully meant to hold to our understanding ""Why did you not, then7""The truth7 Because Richard's capture unbalanced the equation I

70truly did not think he'd ever come back, not with the enemies he's made. I saw the crown up for the taking, and so . . ." He shrugged. "I put in my bid. What more can I tell you?"Eleanor's mouth twitched. "Credit where due, you can surprise. I was curious as to what your last line of defense would be. But I admit I did not expect you to fall back upon honesty!"With that, John no longer hesitated. "Well?" he said. "Will you help me, Mother? Will you intercede with Richard on my behalf?"She gave him a look he could not interpret. "I already have."John's relief was intense but ephemeral. So this whole scene had been yet another of her damnable games, he thought resentfully, a stupid charade as meaningless as it was malicious."Richard can be unpredictable, so there are no guarantees. But he did agree that if you came to him, he'd hear you out. It might help," she added dryly, "if you sought to appear somewhat contrite."She started toward the door, stopped when he made no move to follow. "What are you waiting for? Richard's below in the great hall; now would be as good a time as any.""The great hall?" John echoed in dismay. He thought it penance enough to have to humble his pride before Richard, was not about to put on a performance for a hall full of witnesses. But as he opened his mouth to protest, he caught the contempt in his mother's eyes. She was like Richard, he knew, in that she, too, was one for setting tests and traps for people, measuring their worth by standards that made no allowance for frailties or failure. Richard judged a man by his willingness to bleed, to risk his life upon the thrust of a sword.With his mother, the test was more subtle and yet more demanding. She might forgive deceit and betrayal, but never weakness, would expect above all else that a man be willing to answer for the consequences of his actions."I suppose you're right." He moved away from the window, gave her a crooked smile. "What was it the Christian martyrs always said before they were thrown to the lions? Morituri te salutamus?""Your command of Latin is not bad, but your grasp of history is rather weak.'We who are about to die salute you' was the battle cry of the Roman gladiators, not the Christian martyrs. We can safely say you have no yearning whatsoever for martyrdom, but it will be interesting, nonetheless, to see how you handle yourself in the lion's den." Eleanor's laugh was not in the least maternal, but John knew he'd pulled back from the brink in time, had scrambled to safety even as the ground seemed sure to crumble under his feet.MEN stared at sight of John, fell suddenly silent. Eleanor stepped aside so that he stood alone. Richard was sitting on the dais at the far end of

71the hall. John hesitated, then began the longest walk of his life. So quiet .as that he could hear the scuffling sound his boots made as they trod pon the floor rushes, hear the clinking of his sword in its scabbard even hear, or so he imagined, the thudding of his own heart. Richard had not moved, was watching him approach, eyes narrowed and utterly opaque. John stopped before the dais, slowly unbuckled his scabbard, and laid it upon the steps. Then he knelt."My liege." In the brief time allotted to him for calculation, he'd decided that candor was his best hope. It had served him well with his mother, and might, if he was lucky, appease Richard, too. In truth, what other choice did he have? For what could he possibly say that Richard would believe?"I can offer you no excuses, Richard. I can only ask for your forgiveness. Iknow I've given you no reason to" He stopped in midsentence, for he'd just recognized the woman seated at Richard's left, a slim woman with green eyes and reddish gold hair gleaming under a silvery gossamer veil, a woman he'd not seen for eighteen years. His sister Joanna."I'm surprised to see you here, John. Frankly, I did not think you'd have the nerve. I was not surprised, however, by your treachery, by your willingness to snap at Philip's bait. You're as easily led astray as any child, have never learned to say no. It's lucky you were not born a woman, Little Brother. You'd have been perpetually pregnant!"Richard laughed, and so did most of the others in the hall. The color drained from John's face; he bit down on his lower lip until it bled, sought to focus upon the pain to the exclusion of all else.Rising, Richard bent down, picked up John's sword. "But you're here; that counts for something. And our lady mother would have me forgive you; that counts for much. I suppose I should just be thankful that since you are so much given to treachery, you're so reassuringly inept at it!" He stepped forward, held out John's sword. "Your betrayals are forgiven, Little Brother... if not forgotten. But though your blood buys you a pardon, the price is higher for an earldom, higher than you can pay. I've no intention of restoring your titles and lands, not until I'm damned well sure that you're deserving of them ... if ever."John came to his feet, reached for his sword. Richard was some inches the taller of the two, and now, standing on the dais stairs, he towered over the younger man. As their eyes met, John said, quite tonelessly, "I shall remember your