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warned.""Love, you know we have to be there." Joanna sighed, with real regret."Otherwise, I'd like nothing better than . . . conversing with you. You're such a deep, penetrating conversationalist, after all," she sajd, all but choked in trying not to laugh at her own weak pun.She'd never yet bested him at wordplay, and she waited expectantly to see how he would improve upon her effort. Instead he said, "Do come in, John.""You'll have to do better than that," Joanna scoffed. "You played that trick upon me once before, remember? Looking up and saying, 'Yes, Morgan?' at a moment when we most definitely had no need of witnesses!" The memory made her laugh; Llewelyn did, too. But then he sat up."I was not jesting, Joanna," he said, and Joanna turned her head, saw her father standing in the doorway of the bedchamber.John's face was impassive, showed absolutely nothing of what he was thinking."I trust I'm not interrupting anything of urgency?"Llewelyn grinned, but he could see the embarrassed blush rising in Joanna's face and throat; taking pity on her, he held his tongue, showed his amusement only in the exaggerated gallantry with which he helped her to her feet.Privacy was an unknown luxury, and Joanna had long since become accustomed to people intruding into their bedchamber at inopportune moments, surprising her on Llewelyn's lap, in his arms, once in the midst of a soapily erotic shared bath. But never before had she felt as she did now, flustered and thoroughly discomfited."The last of the Welsh Princes have arrived, and they are awaiting us now in the hall." For the first time John looked directly at Joanna, his eyes opaque, utterly unreadable. "I thought we would enter together."'We would be honored, Papa." Joanna hastily snatched up her veil, crossed to her father. Laying a hand upon his arm, she looked search-lng'y into his face. She still thought him to be a handsome man, but she ought, too, that time was not treating him kindly. She knew he would be forty-two until December, yet the ink-black hair was liberally Jacked with grey; his eyes were bloodshot, shadowed by suspicions y°nd satisfying, the mouth thinned, inflexible, not as open to laugher as Joanna remembered.

302What could she say, that she ached for him, grieved that he had s much and so little? "I love you, Papa," she said, saw his mouth soften and put her arms around his neck."I love you, too, sweetheart," John said gently, for a moment held her in a close, comforting embrace. But he was not looking at his daughter, was gazing over her shoulder at the man she'd married.JOANNA watched as Llewelyn knelt before her father, did homage to John as hisKing and liege lord. The hall was quiet; Llewelyn's voice carried clearly to all, his matter-of-fact tones revealing none of the distaste Joanna knew he must feel.John was now making the obligatory response, promising to do all in his power to guarantee Llewelyn's peaceful possession of Gwynedd, raising his son-in-law up to give him the ritual kiss of peace. Llewelyn then declared, "In the name of the Holy Trinity and in reverence of these sacred relics, I swear that Iwill truly keep the oath which I have given, and will always remain faithful to you, my King and seigneur," and then it was over, and Joanna took more comfort from the ceremony than she knew it warranted, tried to convince herself that there could indeed be a true and abiding harmony between the two men she loved.Gwenwynwyn alone was absent, a prisoner of the crown for the past twelvemonth.But Madog ap Gruffydd was there, Prince of Upper Powys, Llewelyn's first cousin and ally. So, too, were the Princes of Deheubarth, of South Wales, Maelgwn and his brother, Rhys Gryg, and one by one they followed Llewelyn to the dais, knelt to do homage to the English King. After them came the youngerWelsh lords, Llewelyn's cousin Hywel and Maelgwn's estranged nephews, Owain and Rhys leunac; all three were in their mid-twenties, and all three wereLlewelyn's sworn men. It was Hywel who was to give a deliberate and dramatic demonstration of where his loyalties lay. No sooner had he done homage to John than he crossed the hall, knelt before Llewelyn, and swore oaths of homage and fidelity for the lordship of Meirionydd.The Welsh system of inheritance did not promote family unity; all too often it fostered fratricide, set brother against brother in a bitter battle for supremacy. So it had been with Llewelyn's father and uncles. So, too, it had been in the South, where Maelgwn and Rhys Gryg were the survivors of a long and bloody war of succession. Owain and Rhys leunac were a rarity, therefore, brothers who were not rivals, who acted as one. In the silence that settled over the hall after Hywel's acknowledgment of allegiance, Owain and Rhys exchanged wordless looks ot perfect understanding. Then they, too, crossed the hall, did homage to Llewelyn for Ceredigion.

r303A rnan could, and very, often did, owe allegiance to two or more lords In choosing to do homage to Llewelyn, the Welshmen were11 within their legal rights But Joanna wished fervently that they had done so, had not acted to tarnish her father's moment of triumph mi elewn was standing just to her right, close enough to touch He was sinking-looking man in his early forties, no taller than John, with a thick head of tawny hair and the blue eyes of the true Celt, those eyes ,ere the coldest Joanna had ever seen She watched his face as his nephews did homage to Llewelyn for lands once his, and shivered, suddenly and uncontrollably"Did Llewelyn plan that7" a voice murmured at her ear When she shook her head, Richard swore under his breath "Papa will not ever believe he did not, Joanna," he said somberlyRICHARD took a seat as inconspicuously as possible, not entirely comfortable to be in the company of these men, the most powerful lords

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