Here Be Dragons - 1 Sharon Penman (paper ebook reader .TXT) 📖
- Author: Sharon Penman
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That does not, however, alter the debt I owe your uncle. But come the day when he's gone to God, I shall be sorely tempted to burn Caus Castle around your head. I'd think on that, if I were you."Thomas opened his mouth, and Aubrey jabbed him with an elbow. "For Christ's sake," he hissed, "do not stretch your luck!""My Prince!" It was Dylan again, pushing before him a fearful youngster of eighteen or so. "This one ran right into our scouts, claims he has an urgent message for de Montalt."The boy fumbled within his tunic and withdrew two rolled parchments. With an apologetic glance toward Robert de Montalt, he knelt and handed the messages to Llewelyn.De Montalt had stiffened. He watched tensely as Llewelyn broke his brother's seal. He saw surprise upon the latter's face; Llewelyn said something inWelsh, and the others looked no less startled."Cousin?" Aubrey had sidled closer. "See the second dispatch? Does it not bearHis Grace of Chester's seal? The news, then, is from Normandy."The Welsh were still talking among themselves, with considerable arumation.Several were smiling, but Llewelyn looked suddenly penSlye. He walked toward them, said to de Montalt, "Your brother has just received a letter from theEarl of Chester. Your King Richard was sore w°unded whilst besieging ChalusCastle; he died on the sixth of April."
112Thomas did not appear overly affected by the news of his KW demise, but deMontalt was stunned and Aubrey stricken. He sagge(, back against the wall, whispered, "Jesu have mercy upon his soul."Thomas dutifully crossed himself at that, then blurted out, with the single-mindedness of the true pragmatist, "Whom did he name as hls heir, John or Arthur?""His brother John." Llewelyn's eyes flicked from the letter to the ashen-faced de Montalt. "If you wish," he said, "your chaplain rnay offer up prayers forRichard's soul."De Montalt swallowed, nodded. "He ... he was a great soldier."Llewelyn nodded, too; that he could acknowledge in all honesty.AS soon as the Welsh were alone in the solar, Llewelyn's companions crowded around him. "What of Arthur, Llewelyn? Did he not put in his claim, too?"Llewelyn glanced again at the letter. "Indeed he did, Ednyved. Chester says rebel barons of Brittany and Touraine laid siege to Angers and Le Mans, proclaimed Arthur as Richard's rightful heir. He says John almost fell into their hands at Le Mans, but he was able to reach safety at Rouen, and there the Norman lords did rally to him, answering his call to arms. He led an army back into Anjou, razed the castle at Le Mans, and burned the city. Arthur escaped, fled to the French court, and John seems like to prevail. Chester writes that he was invested as Duke of Normandy on the twenty-fifth, that he sails for England within the fortnight.""Llewelyn?" Rhys was frowning. "What means this to us? Are we the better or the worse for his death?""I would that I knew, Rhys. For certes, I'd rather have seen Arthur crowned over John; a twelve-year-old lad would cast no great shadow in Wales. As forJohn ... I hope I am wrong, but he may well prove to be more troublesome than ever his brother was. For all his vaunted skill with a sword, Richard never bothered much with Wales. Or with England, either, if truth be told. He wasKing for ten years, and how often was he even on English soil? Twice, I do believe! But John has no interest in crusades or foreign campaigns, is like to make England the central jewel in his crown. And he knows our ways better than most; he was, as Earl of Gloucester, himself a Marcher border lord. No, Isuspect we've no reason for rejoicing that John is to be King."King John," Llewelyn repeated softly. "Morgan is a better prophe'
113even he knows. Once, years ago, he told me our lives should en'ne John's and mine. And, so it now seems, they shall."10FONTEVRAULT ABBEY, PROVINCE OF ANJOUJune 1200J.HE royal abbey of St Mary of Fontevrault was young in years when measured against the timeless span of stone and mortar, but few religious orders were as influential or as wealthy. Matilda de Boheme, the proud, pious woman who ruled as Abbess, was related both by blood and marriage to the great Houses ofChampagne and Blois, and the thriving community within Fontevrault's walls included a convent for wellborn nuns, a monastery for monks and lay brothers, a hospital for lepers, a home for those nuns and monks grown too old to serveGod in other than prayer, even a shelter for penitent prostitutes. AtFontevrault were buried the Plantagenet dead of Henry's House, and Eleanor was often an honored guest of the Abbess. Taken ill that spring, she had chosen to convalesce in the white-walled stillness of the abbey, and lingered there weeks later, having found an unexpected contentment in the cloistered and placid peace, so utterly lacking in the turbulence and high drama that had marked her life for almost eight decades.The Abbess Matilda welcomed her with heartfelt gladness; theirs was a friendship of genuine affection, if not genuine intimacy. She wondered, though, how long it would be before Eleanor's restless spirit would begin to yearn for the pleasures of
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