Here Be Dragons - 1

out beside her, pillowing his head in her lap."I had another talk with Ednyved/' he said. "He's still set upon making that pilgrimage to the Holy Land, says he can begin laying plans novv that Gwynedd is at peace."That would be a strenuous, dangerous undertaking for a man of any age, andEdnyved was past sixty. Joanna frowned, stopped stroking Llewelyn's hair. "Do you not think you can dissuade him?""No," he said regretfully, "I do not." A comfortable silence settled over the glen. When Llewelyn spoke again, he sounded lazily content. "John the Scot gave me a remarkable book Chester picked up in France, written by a man who'd gone on pilgrimage to the Holy Land. It's an account of his adventures, interspersed with suggestions for his fellow pilgrims. I think Ednyved might find it right useful, for he tells the reader how to deal with Venetian money-changers, which ports are best for engaging passage to Palestine, that syrup of ginger helps to ease seasickness. He even includes a vocabulary of foreign words and sentences, those phrases a man would be most likely to need, like 'Where is the inn?' 'How much?' And one so utterly essential I thought it best to commit it to memory: 'Marrat nyco.'"When Joanna gave him a quizzical, curious look, he laughed. "That is Arabic for 'Maiden, wilst thou sleep with me?'"Joanna laughed, too. "You've just convinced me how fortunate I am that you're not going on pilgrimage with him!" But a pilgrimage was more than a propitious opportunity for spiritual salvation; it offered, too, a rare chance for great adventure. "Llewelyn . . . you would not want to accompany Ednyved?""No, breila. I've thought of pilgrimage; what Christian has not? But I do not think I'd transplant well, need to keep my roots in Welsh soil." His eyes began to gleam; he added, "Furthermore, as much as I would like to see theHoly City wrested away from the Saracens, even more would I like to see Wales free of you English."Joanna tugged at his hair. "If you must be insulting, at least be accurate.Norman-French, if you please.""I stand corrected. Although I think English will win out, if not in Davydd's lifetime, mayhap in his children's. Now that you've lost Normandy, the day might well come when English, not French, will be the knguage even of the court.""Be serious," Joanna said, and tossed an acorn to a small red squirre'- 'Ionly wish the crusaders had been as successful in their quest as you've been in yours; there'd not be a mosque left intact in all of Jerusalem."You make it sound as if I've won my war, Joanna."

700"Beloved, you have! You've outwitted or outfought two English Kings, unified your people, secured the succession for Davydd, and engendered a sense of shared identity amongst the Welsh, an awareness of their common destiny.Llewelyn, those are remarkable achievements.""Yes," he said, "but will it last?"Joanna had been able to find a curious sort of comfort in that courtyard scene at Aber, in that sudden glimpse of Davydd in a new and unnerving guise, as a man utterly intent upon claiming a crown. She opened her mouth now, ready to reassure Llewelyn that Davydd would triumph, and then realized he was not speaking of Davydd's succession, but rather of Wales. Her smile was both wry and resigned; whilst she worried about people, his concern would ever be for empires.She very much wished she could foretell for him the future of Gwynedd, assure him the Welsh would continue to thrive in the shadow of a stronger neighbor.Since she could not, she leaned over, kissed him tenderly, then made him laugh by calling him Llewelyn Fawr, for they'd turned John the Scot's lavish praise into a private bedtime joke.The sun was very low in the sky, the river reflecting the red-gold of a summer sunset. Joanna sat up reluctantly. "We ought to be getting back," she said, but Llewelyn shook his head."No," he said, "not yet. We have time." And so they lingered awhile longer in the clearing, watched together the passing of day.

1EPILOGUE, j.JOANNA died in 1237 and was buried, at her own request, at Llanfaes, whereLlewelyn established a Franciscan monastery to honor her rnemory. He died three years later and was succeeded by their son Davydd. But Llewelyn's triumph was ephemeral, for it was personal, and his dream of a united, independent Wales was not destined to be.

AUTHOR'S NOTELIN seeking to resurrect a time more than seven centuries distant from ours, Ioften found that research would take me only so far. It was necessary to rely upon imagination to a greater extent than in my earlier novel of fifteenth-century England, for Llewelyn's world was not as well chronicled as that of the Yorkist Kings. But the structure of Here Be Dragons is grounded in fact; even the more unlikely occurrences are validated by medieval chroniclers. Joanna's secret warning to John did reach him at Nottingham asLlewelyn's hostages were being hanged. Llewelyn and Gruffydd did reconcile on the battlefield. And Llewelyn did indeed return unexpectedly to Aber on anApril night in 1230, to discover Joanna and Will de Braose alone in his bedchamber. I took but one factual liberty: Llewelyn captured Mold Castle inJanuary of 1199, but I placed the siege in April, the better to integrate theWelsh and Norman story lines.All of my major characters in Dragons actually lived, with the exceptions ofMorgan, Rhys, and Rhys's wife, Catherine; whenever possible, I also cast my secondary characters from real-life molds. Although history has preserved for us the identity of Tangwystl, the mother of Llewelyn s son Gruffydd, other female figures remain in shadow. Llewelyn's concubine lived, but Cristyn is a name of my choosing. Little is known or Joanna's mother, other than herChristian name; I gave her a surname and a family background to reflect the skeletal known facts and the mos common circumstances of illegitimacy.Llewelyn's third son, Tegwared, has been utterly eclipsed by embittered rivalry between his brothers Gruffydd and Davydd, m