Here Be Dragons - 1, Sharon Penman [e novels to read online txt] 📗

indifferent to appearance, while the deep grooves around his mouth told Joanna more than she wanted to know of his years in Deganwy's great keep.Senena, however, looked radiant; an uninformed bystander might well have identified her as the released prisoner. Their son Owain rode beside her, and the sight of him was a shock to Joanna. The younger children had often stayed at Llewelyn's court, but Owain, never. The nine-year-old boy she remembered was a gangling youth of fifteen, awkward in his newfound manhood, a flesh-and-blood ghost from Gruffydd's troubled past.Llewelyn had dismounted. His smile was dazzling, and Joanna yearned to be able to rejoice with him, to be truly and wholehearte y happy that his son was free."Madame." Gruffydd was bending over her hand. His deme was scrupulously correct; captivity had taught him caution if n°

697ke Joanna thought, and she, too, took refuge in courtesy, in the most formal of Welsh greetings, a hollow "May God prosper you."Gruffydd's eyes shifted to her face; in their depths she saw a raw flame flicker. "I wish no less for you, Madame."Almost at once Gruffydd was surrounded by family, friends, and yfgll-wishers, embraced by his sisters, his uncle. He was greeted far more coolly by Elen andTegwared, but enough people were clustering about him to give his return the aura of a hero's homecoming. Joanna turned, walked away.Elen soon joined her. "Nothing has changed," Joanna said tonelessly."Nothing."Elen shook her head. "You think not? Watch," she said, and Joanna followed her daughter's gaze, saw that her son had just ridden into the bailey.If Davydd was surprised by Gruffydd's early arrival, it did not show in his face. He reined his stallion in, waited for Gruffydd to come to him. After a conspicuously long pause, Gruffydd did. They exchanged but a few terse words before Gruffydd swung about, stalked back to his wife and sisters. Llewelyn moved swiftly toward his youngest son. Davydd slid from the saddle. They spoke softly together for several moments and then Davydd smiled, nodded. But he kept his eyes upon Gruffydd all the while.As Joanna watched, a memory stirred, elusive, perplexing. She frowned, seeking to bring it into focus. There was something so tantalizingly familiar about this scene, about Davydd's cool composure, his detachment, the way his hazel eyes narrowed as they took the light, took Gruffydd's measure . . . and then the memory broke through, with such vivid clarity that time blurred, the years fell away, and she exclaimed, "Mirebeau!" in startled revelation."Mama?""Do you see how Davydd is watching Gruffydd? So distant and yet so deliberate.I knew I'd seen that look before, and now I remember. I once saw my father watch Arthur in that very same way."THE little church of St Rychwyn was cool and still. Not even the parish priest was there to disturb Joanna. Kneeling before the altar, she was alone withGod, alone with her dead. She prayed first for her father, for is need was greatest. And then she prayed for the others: Clemence, weanorof Aquitaine, Will of Salisbury, Catherine, Rhys, Morgan, Ches-^r, Arthur, Maude de Braose, Will. She concluded with prayers for se who'd died in Llewelyn's compulsive war against a ghost, the war at had brought such devastation to the de Braose lands.

698The sun was beginning its slow descent toward the west by the tim Joanna emerged from the church and started back to Llewelyn's hillsjd manor atTrefriw. She'd stopped to gather bell heather when she hea H Elen's voice; a moment later her daughter came around a bend in th path."They told me you'd gone up to Llanrychwyn, Mama, so I thought I'd walk up and meet you. But why did you not go to St Mary's? PaD had it built for you, after all, to spare you this walk.""I do attend St Mary's for morning Mass. But now and then I need the solitude of Llanrychwyn, need that time alone to pray for loved ones . . . and to remember."They walked in silence for a time; it was too hot for haste. Pine woods rose up on both sides of the path, dark and shadowy and primeval. "Look," Elen said, stooping to pick a daisy. "Did you ever play that game, Mama, plucking the petals to see if love will last?" Her eyes shifted from the flower, up toJoanna's face. "Were you praying for your father?"Joanna nodded. "Elen ... we can talk about him if you like. You have the right, darling; he was your blood kin, too.""Can you talk about him, Mama . . . truly? You pray for him. Does that mean you've forgiven him?"Joanna was quiet. "No," she said at last. "That is for the Almighty to do. ButI have forgiven myself for loving him, am no longer ashamed of that love, and mayhap that's as much as I can hope for."They'd almost reached Trefriw. Joanna stopped, touched Elen on the arm. "Elen, I am so glad you agreed to stay for a time with us. But I want you to promise me that you'll turn to us if ever you need help, if ever""Mama, I will. But you need not fear." Elen smiled impishly, held out the daisy. "See," she said. "I just pulled the last petal, and it promises that love will prevail!"DISMOUNTING in a clearing within sight and sound of Rhaeadr Ewynol, Llewelyn walked to the edge of the cliff, stood gazing down at the cataract, a surging spillover of foam and flying spray. Joanna had remaine a prudent distance from the precipice, and at last he heeded her en treaties, joined her on the grass under an ancient oak.Joanna and Elen had returned to Trefriw just as Llewelyn an Davydd rode in after a day's hawking, and when Llewelyn sugges e they ride over to Rhaeadr Ey wnnol to see the results of recent heavy rains, Joanna had accepted with alacrity; except in bed at night, they

699had little time a'one ^is summer. Now she leaned back against the tree ndLlewelyn stretched