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Authors: Roberta Gellis

Tags: #Romance, #Historical

Joanna (23 page)

BOOK: Joanna
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“Get out, Geoffrey, I am finished with you.”

Joanna stood back holding a large square of linen, which   she wrapped around her betrothed as he stepped from the tub. He shivered in the damp of the inner chamber, and she drew him toward the fire where she dropped the now-damp linen and began to dry him thoroughly with another cloth.

“Instead of keeping to this plan,” Geoffrey continued, his voice sharpening, “John has decided to build strong places all through Wales from which he can rule directly and to build also a great keep at Aberystwyth. They will not endure this. I know they will not, and, fool that I am, I said so. That was when I was told that, since I had craved leave to come to you, I should go and meddle no more in matters of state that I was too young to understand.”

Bitterness and hurt pride rang in Geoffrey’s voice. Instinctively, Joanna responded with support. “The more the fools they to confuse youth with stupidity. I greatly fear you are right, Geoffrey, right in all ways. I do not think the Welsh princes will cry out against what they see and so give warning either. They will bide their time and then, when all have been lulled into thinking they are cowed, they will overrun the country and wrest it back into their own hands.”

Although she did believe Geoffrey’s analysis of the situation, Joanna spoke largely to assuage his hurt. Single-minded, she was really concerned only about Clyro, and she thought that was probably far enough out of the strategic path to be safe. She would, of course, warn Sir Peter herself or ask Geoffrey to warn him, but she believed the attacks would be directed against the new royal strongholds, rather than at long-time residents known to be good neighbors. There was another aspect to the problem, however.

“Why does this trouble you so much, Geoffrey?” Joanna asked gently as she drew up and tied his chausses. “Do you fear they will flood over into England to take revenge?”

To her surprise his expression lightened. “No. No. That I had not thought about. Perhaps it was not all wasted. They have tasted England’s might. They will try to throw off the yoke, but they will do nothing that can really arouse bitterness here. It lay on my heart that I urged the burning of   Wales, even some places where I was once a guestand all for no purpose. But now you have said something of importance that I had missed. For Wales, and even for England, this may not fall out so ill. If they cast off John’s influence, they will run back to Llewelyn. He may well gather all Wales under his power, but he will remember. He will do nothing that can arouse the English barons to fury. He will stay in Wales. Thus, if they fall only on the king’s strongholds”

“We cannot trust to that.”

“Certainly not. Sir Peter must be warned to prepare. I think it scarce likely any will attack Clyro, but when it is seen he is stuffed and garnished for war, it will be even more certain they will avoid this place.”

The last words were muffled as Joanna pulled a shirt over Geoffrey’s head. When his face emerged it had darkened again.

“I am a fool,” he continued. “What will happen in Wales will happen and, as you have been too kind to say, it is of little importance to us except in the hurt to my pride. I should pay attention to my own affairs. Joanna” Geoffrey caught her hands just before she turned away to take the belt of his robe from the chest where it lay. “Joanna, I am afraid.”

She looked up at him, her eyes widening. This was no fear for which one could feel contempt. Geoffrey’s mind had looked upon Armageddon. “What?” she asked, her breath trembling through open mouth.

“The king will drive the barons to open rebellion, and it will be soon, and II hate him. My gorge rises in his presence when he speaks to melies, all lieswith that smooth voice, and yet I know I must stand with him. There is no one else strong enough andand much as I hate to say ithe is not so bad a king to the realm at large. But the barons fear him. They
only
fear him. It is not as with Henry or Richard where the fear was much mixed with love. There is no love for John, except in my poor father,
no
love at all, even in those most loyal to him.”   “But this has been true for years, Geoffrey. What is new?”

“What is new is that the king’s pride has grown all out of reason. In three years he has brought Scotland, Ireland, and Wales to an obedience no other king ever forced upon them. He does not see that Pembroke and Ian sit upon Ireland, that King William of the Scots is weak and his barons so taken with quarrels among themselves that they have no time to look toward England, that Waleswell, I need not speak of that again.”

“I still do not understand.” Joanna shook her head. “Come, sit down.” She pressed him into a chair, shoved a footstool under his feet and then, instead of sitting in the chair opposite, brought another stool close beside him and sat down on that, taking his hand into hers. “Tell me what happened to make you feel this.”

“The first thing was the king’s answers to the emissaries from the pope. The legate is Pandulf, I believe a wise and worthy man. Durrand of the Knights Templars was with him, more, I would say to protect Pandulf than to negotiate. At first, I thought all would be well. John was polite and he said at once that he would welcome into England the new archbishop of Canterbury, Stephen Langton, and any or all of the exiled bishops. This greatly pleased Pandulf and I could see he was willing and empowered to bargain. That was where the sweet wine turned sour. Had John offered a mil on a pound for restitution and a few sweet words, all would have been well. Had he offered
nothing
, only said that the problem must be considered and worked out with the bishops and archbishop, it would have been enough. The Church would have made peace and set about wringing restitution from him penny by pennywhich would have been good for us.”

“I gather the king was adamant?”

“Adamant? He was worse! He laughed at the power of the pope openly, and said he had more kindness from God in his excommunicated state than he had ever had as a faithful son of the Church.”   Joanna’s breath hissed in. “So help me, John is inspired by the devil!” She shivered suddenly. “Geoffrey, can it be that all this good, all the victories, is a trap set by Satan?”

“I said I was afraid,” Geoffrey muttered, “and I do not fear the works of man.”

“What will the pope do? John is already excommunicated. What more can Innocent lay upon him?”

“There are two steps more he can take. I do not even remember a time when a pope was bold enoughbut it is said Innocent is such a man. He can absolve all oaths of fealty to John.”

“Absolve all oaths of fealty?” Joanna’s voice was thin and she wet her lips nervously. “But Geoffrey, that will mean”

“Chaos! Armageddon! There will be no law in the land.”

“Geoffrey” Joanna clutched the hand she held tighter. “I do not mean to hurt you, beloved, butbut”

“But should we send for Ian? You do not hurt me. It was my first thought. I can hold the vassals to their duty in a war. Even if there should be rebellion, I think they would obey mebut this! I wrote a letter, but I held it open hoping that my father and the bishop of Winchesterwho is at court although he has not shown himself to Pandulfwould bring John to his senses. Thenthe news came that Braose had died in Corbeuil.”

“Braose? What has he to do with us?”

“He himself? Nothing. What has to do with usor rather with Ianis John’s reaction to the news. He gloated on it openly, openly reminded the court how Braose’s wife had offended him and what had befallen her. His eyes rested on a fewnot least on me!and he smiled and said such a fate was prepared for
all
his enemies.”

“My mother” Joanna whispered.

Geoffrey put an arm around her and felt how she trembled. “I did not send the letter,” he assured her.

“But they
must
know about the trouble with the pope. They will hear it from Pembroke even if we do not send word.”   ‘‘Yes, yet I dare not send a warning of John’s spite. You know what will happen if I do.”

That brought a trembling smile to Joanna’s lips, although she was still shuddering with fear. She blinked away tears. “As well warn Ian of danger as prod a bull with a sharp stick. He would come charging homeGeoffrey, Geoffrey, what will we do?”

“The first thing is that we must write a letter together. You will best know what to say to your mother so that she will try to keep Ian in Ireland. I will give the news so that Ian can see the danger is not immediate. And it is not, Joanna. It will take time for Pandulf to communicate with the pope. The next thing is that we must go to every vassal and castellan and sound them most carefully while we give them warning. I believe most will be loyal. They will see the benefit of our protection in a time of chaos.”

The outline of positive action to be taken calmed Joanna. She drew a deep breath and nodded. “Will we have time enough?”

“If we go separately, yes. You must go to your mother’s people. I will go north first because I wish to visit Ian’s northern vassals twice. They are the most like to break away. That whole northern part is a hotbed of rebellion. Then I will go to my keeps, and, after that, I will go to Leicester to get Adam and take him with me over his own lands.”

“Adam? Oh, Geoffrey, you will not let Adam come to any danger, will you? He is so heedless, so wild.”

Geoffrey looked reprovingly at his betrothed. “Adam is thirteen, no longer a child. Of course I will guard him as needful, but no more than that. He must know his men and they him. And he is not so heedless as you think. There is a good mind under all that laughter.”

“But he is as bador worsethan Ian in the face of dangerand you are no better!” Joanna cried. “Let me come with you. Adam listens to me sometimes.”

By no means offended by Joanna’s strictures on his reaction to danger, which he took as a compliment, Geoffrey   smiled at her indulgently. “However I regard a danger to myself, I assure you I will not permit Adam to run headlong into trouble.” Then his arm tightened around her. “I cannot have you with us, Joanna, and it is not because I would not wish it. There is something else the pope can do, something I pray he will not do, but we must be preparedwhich is why Adam must be in Sussex with me and you must be at Roselynde with easy access to the other southern keeps.”

“Roselynde? The southern keeps? On top of all else, do you fear trouble with France?”

“Of course, what is more likely? You know the French kings have always claimed overlordship of England. From William the Bastard on, every king of England has been a vassal of the king of France.”

“For lands in France, but not in England!”

“That is true enough, but it is a matter that French kings have always been willing to forget without special encouragement. What if the pope should declare John not fit to be king? What if he should urge holy war against a man devil-inspired, who is leading his subjects down the path to hell?”

“King Philip will come upon us like a ravening wolf.”

“Just so. You must warn the fishermen and the merchantmen to watch as they have never watched before andif it comes about as I fearyou must be where they can come to you readily so that you may direct me to where I must go to defend the land.”

“Geoffrey,” Joanna was trembling again, but her voice was steady. “I cannot be in two places at once. If I must go on progress to the vassals, I cannot remain at Roselynde.”

He bent and kissed her, then drew her up into his lap. “The French trouble cannot come upon us untilthe spring. Time is needed for the pope to have the news that John remains contumacious and for him to negotiate with Philip. It is not likely that Philip would miss an opportunity to be well paid for doing what he would be glad to do anyway.”

Joanna closed her eyes and rested her head on Geoffrey’s shoulder. She wished the earth would open and swallow King John and King Philip and the pope too, right into hell.   “There cannot be anything more,” she sighed, “can there?”

“Nothing of real import, but straws that show the wind is blowing from a wicked direction. John has declared a scutage of two marks on all who did not ride with him into Wales.”

“That is his right, surely, but two marksthat is a heavy fine.”

“Yes. He means it as a warning, I think. He is talking already of sailing to France next year and winning back what was lost to Philip.

“Will he never learn?” Joanna sighed.

“You know,” Geoffrey temporized, “I am not certain I think it so bad a thing. I said before in a fit of passion that I hated the king. I suppose I hate the man, but as a king, when dealing with matters he understands and where his wild fears of his own men do not lead him into error and where his pride does not push him into foolishness, he has gained wisdom. This business with France might do well. He does not intend to use the strength of England alone this time.”

“I do not understand,” Joanna complained.

“It is a long tale going back to King Richard who supported and made treaty with Otto of Germany to help him become emperor of the Holy Roman Empire. John did nothing to forward this after Richard died, but he bespoke Otto well and honored him when he came to visit. Now that Philip is grown so mighty, the other kings and great dukes in Europe are seeking a way to contain him.”

“And they look to John?” Joanna said doubtfully.

“Not yet, perhaps, but they can be made to do so. The king has offered good comfort to Renaud Dammartin, together with lands worth three hundred pounds a year. Renaud will be John’s emissary, and the more convincing from his own treatment at Philip’s hands.”

“You think this is wise?” her voice was neutral.

“Yes. Yes, I do. If an alliance can be forged so that the Flemish, the Germans, and those others that will be swayed by Dammartin attack from the east at the same time that the   king attacks from the south and west of France, Philip will be caught between two fires.

There was a short silence. Geoffrey’s expression was abstracted but his mouth was slightly curved as if what he contemplated was rather pleasant. Joanna could not see his full face, but from the line of jaw and lip she knew he was no longer tense. A wave of resentment passed over her.

BOOK: Joanna
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