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glish. All blood bonds were recognized, and it was in blood-related clans that their political structure was based. |
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Simon made a sharp gesture that stopped Ian from forcing the young man to his knees. "Gently, gently," he said. "Have some respect for your betters. It is no shame for any man to be taken prisoner by a force stronger than his own." |
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The face had been sullen and desperate, with the wild, darting eyes of a trapped animal. Now the glance fixed on Simon, flicking over his body which looked even huger than usual, naked as he was. |
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"Do you wish to give me a name by which I can address you?" Simon asked politely. |
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That was no help. The name was as common in Wales as William was in England. Nonetheless, the face was not common, and Simon, having seen its counterpart more than once, could almost put another name to it. Surely this young man was nobly born, as the Welsh counted nobility, and surely he was closely related to Owain Gwynedd, who was the nearest thing to a king that there could be in North Wales. |
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"Will you enter?" Simon asked with a courteous gesture. He smiled wryly. "I cannot offer you much in the way of accommodation or entertainment, we are a little thin of supplies, but what I have I will gladly share with you, my lord." |
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"There is no need to make jest of me," the young man blazed, his fists clenching so that the flesh of his bound wrists stood ridged between the leather thongs. "Nor will sweet words wring any more from me than rod or pincers. Do not waste your time. Put me to the torture and be done!" |
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"Lord Llewelyn, I am making no jest of you," Simon returned gravely, "nor am I so much a fool as to offer the smallest hurt or insult to someone so near in blood to Lord Owain Gwynedd." |
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