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Page 153
Long marches were undertaken most willingly by the men who still seethed with anger and frustration at how they had been tricked and ambushed. Now they were getting their own back, and there was pleasure in it. At first, Geoffrey was at one with his men, but as his fatigue grew and he began to see familiar places raped and left broken he grew less glad. At the fortified village of Pen-y-Gaer, a flood of revulsion struck him. Geoffrey had stayed there with Ian and Llewelyn and Owain. They had hunted in the precipitous hills and sat by huge fires at night listening to their host, a man of exquisite manners and great learning, although he spoke no word of any language save Welsh, sing the history of his people. He had even taught Geoffrey a few hauntingly beautiful songs of enchantment and love and death.
The old hill fort, so old that no one knew when it had first been fortified, was a smoking ruin. The crops were ripped. untimely from the earth for green fodder. The grazing fields were burnt over. Fire even flickered on the edges of the forest where an earnest attempt had been made to set the hills themselves ablaze. It was a poor return for the welcome Geoffrey had received. Guilt tore him. It was he who had suggested this. In pride and heedless haste he had urged this cruel path.
Yet it was the best way, the only way. They must walk this path or the path to ignominy, to being driven from the country like starved, whipped curs with their tails between their legs. Perhaps in the long view it would be worth while. If Wales lay at peace for many years with an impartial judge to settle the quarrels between the princes so that the land would not be torn and burnt, the good would outweigh the evil. The land would grow green again, Geoffrey told himself, and the old fortress would be rebuilt. He sighed and touched his horse, making his way toward Tostig and the men who were formed up to continue their march. Who knew how often the structures on this hill had been taken and burnt and rebuilt and taken and burnt and rebuilt yet again. Once more would not matter.

 
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