"I know you've ofttimes granted borough charters, Papa, and with generous privileges "

"Including one to London, giving them the right to elect a mayor less than a week ere they opened the city gates to Fitz Walter1" John's rage was mounting, so was his sense of injury "I may not always nave dealt fairly with men I could not trust, I'll concede that much I'd have been willing to redress individual grievances But I'll not submit to orce I'll not surrender the traditional and ancient rights of sovereignty, ngnts that were my father's before me and will be my son's after me I'll nt turn my kingdom over to the likes of de Vesci and Fitz Walter'"

But you put your great seal to this document, Papa You agreed to ^W them their charter of liberties "

Sh at e^se could I do7 Fitz Walter holds London Llewelyn razed ^wardme Castle to the ground, and then took Shrewsbury There rei een outbreaks in Northampton and Exeter Lincoln is now in c . "ands In South Wales, Reginald de Braose is laying siege to the (Jar/8' seized from his father In the North of England, the Scots King give open aid to the rebels Christ, the country is in a virtual452 state of war! For nigh on a month, my revenues have been cut off, my government hamstrung. And each day sees more defections to the rebels. I'm no longer sure who's with me and who's not, and I do not know whom I can trust.

Yes, I agreed to grant them their charter. At swordpoint! But the game is not over yet."

"I've not read these articles, Papa. You say you can live with most of the provisions. Mayhap you could live with the charter, too, if you tried . . ."

"Never. This so-called peace treaty is utterly one-sided. There's no equity in it. They give up nothing, whilst I am compelled to free all hostages, to banish my foreign mercenaries and Poitevin bailiffs, to dismiss Peter des Roches as Justiciar. And then . . . then to submit to the judgment of five and twenty over-Kings, men who'd barter with the Devil to see me dead. But I am King by God's will, not Eustace de Vesci's. As King, I am responsible for my subjects, not responsible to them. I'd rather lose my kingdom fighting for it than see it whittled away piecemeal by men like de Vesci, Fitz Walter, and Llewelyn ab lorwerth."

"What will you do, Papa?"

"Whatever I have to do. I'll give them what they want, their Runnymede charter, and then we'll see; then they'll fly their true colors. Why do you think I've shown such forbearance, Richard? When have you ever known me to be so tender with traitors? But I've had to play to a larger audience than de Vesci and Fitz Walter. There are one hundred ninety-seven baronies in the realm. As far as I know, thirty-nine are in rebel hands. A like number hold fast for the crown. That still leaves well over a hundred that are unaligned, that have not committed themselves to either side. I daresay most favor a charter in some form or other, but how many of them would be willing to fight for it, to fight both crown and Church? Especially when they see how Fitz Walter and his five and twenty use their charter, as a means of feathering their own nests and settling old grudges . . . not all of them with me."

"You mean, then, to ask the Pope to annul the charter?"

"If I have to, yes."

"But what of this provision in the articles, the one expressly forbidding you to appeal to the Pope?"

"The Church will never accept such a stricture. It was naive of Fz Walter to think otherwise. However sympathetic Langton is to the con cept of a charter, he cannot in conscience agree to foreclose a papal ap peal. To do so would be to put the charter above the Church. I've talk6 to Langton and to Pandulf. The price the barons will have to pay for tn great charter of theirs is to omit any mention of the Pope."

John sat down suddenly in the nearest chair. "Shall I foretell453 future for you, Richard? It does not take a Peter of Wakefield to predict what is to come. I shall give them their accursed charter, for I have no choice.

But they will not keep faith, with it or with me. The Pope will intervene on my behalf, invalidate the charter as an act of naked extortion."

John paused, glanced over at his son, and Richard saw that for once he was being utterly honest. "And then," he concluded bleakly, "we will have what none of us truly wantedwar. War to the death, no quarter given, and God pity England."

37.

DOLWYDDELAN, NORTH WALES.

}unt 1215 WH,.

V VHEN Llewelyn rose to fetch Gwladys, Joanna experienced a moment of near panic. Ever since his arrival at Dolwyddelan, she'd been dreading the time when she would find herself alone with Reginald de Braose. Taking a bracing swallow of wine, she cast about frantically for a neutral topic of conversation, for a way to keep Maude's ghost at bay.

"I know your son Will. He once stayed at my husband's court. How does he? Will he be attending your wedding?"

"Not likely, Madame. As far as I know, he's still in France. Will's ever had a mind of his own, and now that he's nineteen . . ."

"His mother's death must have been hard on him," Joanna sympathized, trying all the while not to think of the deaths that must have truly devastated Will.

Had Reginald been the one to tell him? How could yu tell a fourteen-year-old boy that his grandmother and uncle had ken starved to death?

In truth, Madame, they were not that close." Reginald signaled for servant to refill his cup; he did not seem to share Joanna's unease. "My aughter Matilda is a good lass, does what she's told. But Will and I...454 well, we always seem to be at odds. Part of the trouble, I think, is that he was my mother's favorite, and she Jesii! Madame, are you all right?"

Joanna stared down at her broken cup, at the wine soaking the rushes. When she raised her eyes to Reginald's, they were blinded by tears. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "so sorry . . ."

Reginald was suddenly as flustered as she. "How stupid of me," he said at last. "I was thinking of you as Lord Llewelyn's wife, had all but forgotten you are John's daughter."

"I do not know what to say to you. I pray for Maude's soul, and for your brother's, but"

"Madame, do not distress yourself so. I do not blame you. We are none of us answerable for the sins of our fathers."

That was not the creed of his House; few Marcher families had so bloody a history as the de Braose clan. But Reginald sounded sincere, and even if he was speaking only out of his need to gain Llewelyn as ally, Joanna was grateful for his assurance, was willing to take absolution upon any terms she could get.

She was spared the need to respond, for Llewelyn had just reentered the hall, was escorting his daughter toward them. Gwladys showed no embarrassment at being the object of all eyes. A seventeen, she had poise a much older woman might envy, a sure sense of her own worth as a Prince's daughter. We must get her a wedding gown of purest emerald silk, Joanna thought, a color vivid enough to set off those dark gypsy looks. Gwladys would make a very handsome bride and, thank God, a willing one. Joanna knew the girl would have preferred to wed a Cymro, one of her own people. But even the independent Gwladys would never have claimed the right to choose her own husband, and she seemed content enough with Llewelyn's choice.

Joanna, however, had yet to be reconciled to the match. She could see the shrewd political logic in such an alliance. She could even see why the union was advantageous for Gwladys. Reginald de Braose was an attractive man, not yet forty, with polished manners and a reputation for being more moderate and reasonable than most of his tumultuous kindred. And the bulk of the de Braose lands were situated in Wales or the Marches, so Gwladys would be spared the fate that had so daunted Joanna, the prospect of a life in exile. But to Joanna, all else was overshadowed by a bond of blood.

Llewelyn had sympathized with her reluctance to see her stepdaughter wed to Maude de Braose's son. But he had not been deterred from making the alliance.

Joanna knew he had balanced her discomfort against the good of Gwynedd, and she'd come up short.

"What are you thinking of, breilal" Llewelyn was smiling at "e ' She linked her arm in his, let him lead her aside.455 "I was thinking," she said, "how thankful I am that we have years yet ere we must give our Elen away in marriage "

"WHAT is this7" Joanna looked up as Llewelyn dropped a parchment scroll into her lap "I thought you might be curious about the Runnymede charter "

"Indeed I am, but I do not read Latin " Unrolling the parchment sheets, Joanna stared in wonder at what she held, a French translation of her father's charter "Llewelyn, you did this for me7"

"Well, one of my scribes did " Llewelyn pretended to stagger backward as Joanna jumped to her feet, flung her arms around his neck "Had I only known I could gladden you so cheaply with a few pages of parchment, I might have saved a small fortune over the years, need not have given you all those moonstones and garnets and gold necklets "

"Laugh if you will, but the world is full of men who'd as soon share this charter with their serfs as with their wives, men who think a literate woman to be the Devil's handiwork "

"And with good reason, bmla Teach a woman to read and write, and ere long her head will be overflowing with unseemly and unwomanly ideas She might even think to enter an enemy encampment, to negotiate peace terms on her husband's behalf "

"Have I ever told you," Joanna murmured, "that you have very taking ways7"

Llewelyn laughed "I daresay the citizens of Shrewsbury would agree with you "

Joanna laughed, too, and sitting down upon the settle, she began to thumb through the document, reading at random "I doubt my father was much troubled to agree that fish-weirs be banned from the River Thames' Nor by this provision that no free man shall be imprisoned or outlawed except by the judgment of his peers or by the law of the land, he offered that himself in his compromise proposal of May tenth In fact, Llewelyn, much of this charter seems to state existing law Take this dause 'No one shall be taken or imprisoned upon the appeal of a woman for the death of anyone except her husband ' I thought that was already the law of the land, that a woman could testify only to the mur