< previous page page_111 next page >

Page 111
Rhiannon smiled impishly and Simon's grin mirrored hers. Both appreciated the subtlety. It would permit Llewelyn to bewail the wildness of younger sons and promise punishment, which would never be meted out, in case it was necessary to pacify the English instead of attacking them. However, in the next moment Simon was shaking his head.
"It must come to war, Rhainnon. If Prince Llewelyn does not stand with Pembroke now, he will need to stand alone later. The Bishop of Winchester and his accursed spawn are not like other men. They do not value the laws and customs of our people. They talk of one man ruling alone, holding all power and right as a Divine gift, above and apart from all others. They will not be content with subduing the English. Next they will be here, claiming that, because your father has done fealty for one or two holdings to Henry, he is no prince with a right to rule his people as he sees fit. He, too, will be required to submit utterly without recourse to law or custom."
"Others have tried to make the Welsh submit," Rhiannon said. "We often find their bones when we till the soil."
"Yes, but . . . Rhiannon, your father is not a young man. Do you see in either of your half-brothers another Owain or Llewelyn?"
Rhiannon's eyes fell, and she sighed. "They are more like to fly at each other than to unify or overawe the other princes."
"And do you think Prince Llewelyn does not know this? I believe"
Simon's voice cut off abruptly as Ymlladd whinnied, stamped, and pawed the earth. Simon rose to his feet, his hand dropping to the hilt of his sword. Rhiannon rose also.
"Do not dare," she cried loudly, fearing a flight of arrows from so stealthy a watcher. "Or by Danu and Anu, I will curse you!"

 
< previous page page_111 next page >