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Page 158
Geoffrey was busier than ever, settling disputes, pacifying the combatants, and punishing those who transgressed too far. On the afternoon of the third day, one of the king's squires found him over in Wenneval's camp with a kneeling, weeping woman embracing his knees and two bloodied men, both nursing sore sword hands, shouting at him. To either side of the disarmed combatants, large groups of men were sheathing weapons.
It was clear enough what had happened without asking. Two battle captains had become embroiled over a woman And each had called upon his troop to support him. Then someone less drunk had realized where this was leading and had sought the nearest authority figure to settle the dispute before a minor war broke out in the camp. That was not the squire's business, however.
"Lord Geoffrey," he called over the voices of the angry men.
Geoffrey turned his head. "Be still!" he roared at the two he had just forcibly separated.
"Lord Llewelyn had just ridden in under safe conduct. The king desires that you come to him."
Although the men had fallen silent at Geoffrey's demand, the moment he turned his head to look at the squire they began to inch toward each other, growling. Hastily, Geoffrey turned back, lifting the sword he carried bared in his hand just a trifle. "Be still," he ordered again.
His voice was quieter, but the men not only shrank back from each other but away from him as well. There was a sudden deep blaze of rage in the young lord's eyes, which had turned a strange golden color, that boded no good for its object. The woman hamstringing Geoffrey by her embrace fell silent also, but she still clung to him, shuddering with dry sobs of fear.
"Tell my lord," Geoffrey said to the squire without turning his head, "that if I come to him now, Lord Llewelyn will be treated to the interesting sight of a full-scale war going on among our own men. Since I doubt this would induce him to make terms quickly, I must believe I will be of

 
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