Behind him his wife had entered the room. She was petite and dark, a contrast in every way to her husband. ‘So, Gruffydd, have you come to plague us again?’ Stripping off her embroidered gloves, Joan sat down in the chair at the head of the table. As always Llywelyn’s face softened as he looked at her. Even when he was at his angriest, Joan could soothe him.
Gruffydd managed a graceful bow in her direction. ‘I haven’t come to bother anyone, princess. May I ask how your negotiations fared with the king, your brother?’
Joan gave a tight smile. ‘They went well. I brought back letters from Henry accepting your father’s apology for interfering in England’s affairs.’
‘And you think that will stop a war?’ Gruffydd could not keep the scorn from his voice. ‘How could you bring yourself to grovel before Henry of England, father? Henry has ordered de Braose and the others to Montgomery to his standard. He has vowed to subdue you and all the Welsh with you. He is not going to withdraw, surely you can see that? If he invades Welsh territory again you will have to fight!’
‘What do you want here, Gruffydd?’ Llywelyn interrupted wearily. ‘I am sure you have not come to tell me of the inevitability of war in Wales.’
‘No.’ Gruffydd glanced at Joan. ‘I should like to talk to you alone.’
‘Are you afraid of talking in front of me?’ Joan’s tone was mocking. ‘Are you about to put some new hare- brained scheme to your father? He won’t listen, you know. You have tried his patience too far!’
‘Father!’ Gruffydd exploded. ‘Does this woman speak for you now?’
‘Silence!’ Llywelyn stood up stiffly. ‘I will hear no word against your step-mother. Ever. Do you understand? I want you to leave Aber now. We can have nothing else to discuss.’
‘We have to talk, father!’ Gruffydd leaned forward threateningly. ‘My God, if you don’t listen to me here, I’ll make you, later. You’ll regret the day you turned me from your door!’
In the window embrasure Eleyne put her hands over her ears miserably. Why did it always have to be like this? Why couldn’t Dafydd and Gruffydd be friends? It was
As if feeling Eleyne’s gaze upon her, Joan’s attention flicked briefly towards the window and mother and daughter exchanged hostile glances. To Eleyne’s surprise, however, Joan, distracted, said nothing and her gaze returned thoughtfully to her husband.
‘Enough, Gruffydd,’ Llywelyn said slowly. ‘If you threaten me, I shall have to take steps to contain you.’
Eleyne caught her breath, horrified by the threat implicit in the words.
‘I do not threaten you, father – ’
‘You threaten the peace of this country.’
‘No, it’s Dafydd who does that. You have set him against me! You set the people against me! This is my land, father. This was my mother’s land -’ there was no mistaking the emphasis in the words as he glared across his father towards Joan ‘ – and if it came to a choice between Dafydd and myself the people would choose me.’
‘The people have already chosen, Gruffydd. Two years ago, the princes and lords of Wales recognised Dafydd as my heir – ’
‘No, not the people!’ Gruffydd shouted. ‘The people support me.’
‘No, Gruffydd – ’
‘Do you want me to prove it to you?’
There was a long moment of silence. When Llywelyn spoke at last his voice was hard with anger. ‘What you are suggesting is treason, my son.’
‘Why do you let him talk to you like this, father?’ Dafydd interrupted at last, abandoning his position by the door. ‘This confirms everything I’ve told you. Gruffydd is a hotheaded fool. He’s a danger to everything you and I believe in – ’
He broke off as his brother hurled himself across the room and grabbed him, groping for his throat. As the two young men reeled across the floor, Llywelyn closed his eyes in bleak despair. When he opened them, his face was calm and resolved.
‘Guards!’ There was no trace now of fatigue in his voice. ‘Guards – ’
‘No. Stop! Please -’ Eleyne catapulted herself from the window seat and threw herself at her brothers. ‘Gruffydd, don’t! Please stop!’
But the guards were already there, leaping up the stairs two at a time, pulling the princes apart, as Llywelyn himself dragged Eleyne away from them. It took three of them to hold Gruffydd and as he struggled furiously to throw them off Dafydd retired to the far side of the room, mopping a cut lip on the sleeve of his tunic.
‘Take him away and lock him up,’ Llywelyn commanded.
‘No, papa, you can’t! Gruffydd is your son!’ Eleyne clung to his arm. ‘Please, he didn’t mean it – ’
‘What is this child doing here?’ Llywelyn shook her off.
‘I gave orders she should be sent away before we got back,’ Joan put in quietly. ‘The Lady Rhonwen has seen fit to disobey me.’
‘She has not!’ Eleyne turned on her furiously. ‘We all knew you had no time for me, so we were leaving this afternoon. You came back too soon.’
‘That is enough, Eleyne! How dare you speak to your mother like that! She loves you, as she loves us all!’ Angry, Llywelyn watched as his guards dragged Gruffydd from the room. They could hear the young man’s curses echoing down the staircase until they were out of earshot. For a moment Llywelyn stood gazing at the empty doorway, then he turned his attention back to Eleyne, looking thoughtfully down at the child with her long untidy hair and her rumpled pale blue gown. His face softened. ‘Go. Go and find Lady Rhonwen and tell her you are to leave at once. Where is she to go?’ He turned to his wife, half regretfully. As a rule he enjoyed the company of his youngest daughter.
‘They can go to Llanfaes. Eleyne needs to concentrate on her lessons. There is no room here at Aber and there are too many distractions.’ Joan sounded irritable.
Llywelyn put his arm round Eleyne and, pulling her to him, dropped a kiss on her unruly curls. ‘So, go to Rhonwen, little one, and tell her you must go now.’
‘Yes, papa.’ Eleyne shot a baleful look at her mother and then at her brother. ‘You won’t hurt Gruffydd – ’
‘Of course I won’t hurt him. He must cool his heels for a while, that’s all.’ Llywelyn smiled gravely. ‘Go now, Eleyne – ’
II
The prince’s hall of Tindaethwy at Llanfaes had been rebuilt soon after the fire when Eleyne was born. Situated at the south-eastern corner of the island of Anglesey, it faced across the strait towards the great northern shoulder of the Welsh mainland. Rhonwen and Eleyne, with their attendants and guards, rode from Aber that afternoon across the meadows and marshland and over the sands to where the boats waited to take them to the small busy port at Llanfaes. It was a glorious September day, the sun gilding the water, the sands and the mountains as the horses cantered towards the sea.
Eleyne’s cheeks glowed as they always did when she rode. She smiled across at her companion, Luned, who rode at her side. ‘Race you to the boats!’ Already she had kicked her pony into a gallop. Luned rode gamely after her, screwing up her eyes as the muddy sand, rough with worm casts, flew up in clots from the pony’s hooves.
Rhonwen, following more slowly, sighed, thinking of the great war horse on which Eleyne had ridden at Hay. The Princess Joan had decreed that a rough-haired mountain pony was good enough for her youngest daughter. Eleyne, strangely, had accepted the dun pony and hugged it, and had not as far as she knew once gone to her father and asked for something larger or faster or with prettier markings. She had christened the animal Cadi and they had become more or less inseparable.
Now at the edge of the water Eleyne reined Cadi in, laughing, and slipped from the saddle. She looked up at
