"With all respect, Highness, I still believe an embassy to this nobleman, outlaw as he may be, would achieve the same end with far less cost-and then there is the bloodshed to think about."
"Nonsense," snorted William. "Hang the cost and bloodshed. The rest of Wales will see and understand by this that our sovereign rule will not be violated. Treason will not be tolerated. And that will save blood and silver in days to come."
"You can always invade Wales as a last resort, my liege," suggested Cardinal Flambard. "Should the embassy fail, that is, which I doubt…"
But William the Red was no longer listening. He had turned his back and was striding for the door. "Send to the barons, Cardinal," he called over his shoulder. "All are to meet me in Hereford ready to fight in six days' time."
PART FIVE
For nine seasons long they lived in the woode he sheriff, they vexed, and his men.
The regent's reeve bent but did not yet break, and Rhiban was angered with him.
"I must regayne my land and my rights,
My people needs all must be free.
Let's go with our bows to the true king's keep,
And there with our points make our plea."
"I rede that not," said Merian fayre,
"Beloved, repent of your haste.
Let's all of us, yeomen and women alike,
Go with you to argue your case."
So soon they are gone up to greate Lundein Town,
Wives, maids, and warriors same.
But when city folk 'round there them saw,
They thought that besiegers there came.
The ploughman he leaves his plough in the fields,
The smithy has fled from his shop;
And beggars who only a'creeping could go,
Over their crutches did hop.
The king is informed of the forth-marching host
And assembles his armies at speed.
He swings-to the gates and he marshals his men,
Their progress he means to impede.
With Fryer Tuck, Rhiban approaches the king
Under the true sign of peace.
The king gives him entrance, for he is full wise
And wishes hostility cease.
"God save the king," quod Rhiban to he,
"And them that wish him full well;
And he that does his true sovereign deny,
I wish him with Satan to dwell."
CHAPTER 32
Iwan awoke in the hall of the fortress where he had been born, raised, and grown to manhood. As a young warrior, he had become champion to Brychan ap Tewdwr, Bran's father-a hard man, fair but uncompromising, easily angered and stony as flint-and until the arrival of the Ffreinc invaders Caer Cadarn, the Iron Stronghold, had been his home. God willing, it would be again.
He sat up and looked around at the scores of bodies asleep on the floor around him, then rose and quietly made his way to the entrance, pushed open the heavy oaken door, and stepped out into the quiet dawn of a fresh day. He turned his face to the new-risen sun and drew the soft morning air deep into his lungs, exhaling slowly. From somewhere high above a lark poured out its heart in praise of a glorious day. "It should be like this always," he murmured.
Surveying the yard and surrounding buildings, he noted the alterations made to the old fortress during the Ffreinc occupation of the last four years-mostly for the better, he had to admit. The timber palisade had been shored up all around, and weak timbers replaced and strengthened; a covered guard station had been erected above the entrance gate; the roof of the hall had been replaced with new thatch and given stout new doors; there were new storehouses, a granary, and the kitchen and cookhouse had both been enlarged. There were other changes he would notice in the days to come, to be sure.
Still, it felt like home to him. The thought brought a rare smile to his lips. He had come home.
What the day held, he could not say, but if it was anything like the last it would be busy. Since the capture of the sheriff and the departure of Hugo and his retinue from Saint Martin's, Cymry had been streaming to the caer bringing provisions and livestock; men and women brought their families for protection and to help defend the caer against the retaliation all knew was surely coming. For now, they were housed mostly in the hall and outbuildings of the fortress-with a few, here and there, sleeping on the ramparts.
He washed his face in the big, iron basin beside the door and then walked across the deserted yard to an empty storehouse behind the stables. Outside the small, square wooden building he found Alan a'Dale sitting slumped against a nearby post, his head on his knees.
"God with you, Alan," said Iwan, nudging the minstrel with his foot.
Alan jolted awake and jumped to his feet. "Oh, Iwan-it's you. Here, I must have nodded off for a few winks just then."
"Never mind," said Iwan. "No harm done. Has our captive made any trouble?"
"Quiet as a lamb," replied Alan. He yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Quieter, even. Maybe he has resigned himself to his fate."
"Not likely," replied Iwan. "Open the door, and let's have a look at him."
Alan untied the braided leather rope used to secure the storehouse and pulled open the rough plank door. There, huddled in his cloak on the beaten dirt floor, sat Richard de Glanville, Sheriff of Elfael, chained at the wrists and ankles, red-eyed from lack of sleep, his hair wild on his head as if he had been beating his skull against the walls of his prison. He spat and began cursing as soon as he saw who had come to observe him.
Iwan regarded the enraged prisoner for a moment, then said, "You would think a man so eager for the captivity of others would endure his own with a little more dignity. What is he saying?"
Alan listened to the sheriff 's onrushing gush of abuse, then said, "Nothing worth hearing. Suffice it to say that he holds himself ill-used."
"No doubt," Iwan agreed, then addressed the prisoner. "If you think yourself mistreated now, Sheriff, try escaping and whole new realms of woe will open before you." To Alan he added, "Tell him what I said."
Alan did as commanded, which loosed another tirade in snarled French from the captive. "Me tuer maintenant, ou me relacher-je l'exige!"shouted Sheriff de Glanville. "Vous les porcs degoutants. M'entendre? Je l'exige!"
"What did he say?" asked Iwan. "Something about pigs?"
"Aye, swine came into it," replied Alan. "More to the point, he says he wants us to kill him now or set him free."
"If it was left to me," replied the champion, "he would have had his wish long since. But our Lord Bran thinks he may be of some value yet."
"Mes regrets, mon sherif. Helas, il est impossible," said Alan to the sheriff, who spat by way of reply.
Iwan said, "I'll send someone to relieve your watch very soon. But before you go, see his water bowl is filled and get him some bread and a little meat if there is any."
"As good as done," replied Alan.
"And tell our hostage that he is going to be with us for a few more days at least, so he must try to endure his captivity with better grace than he has shown till now."
This was passed along to the prisoner, who spat again and turned his face to the wall. Alan retied the rope securing the door, and he and Iwan walked across the yard to the hall. "He is a right rogue, that one," Alan observed. "As black-souled a brute as ever strode the earth on two legs. What if King William will not bargain for his life?"
"Oh, he'll bargain, never fear," Iwan assured him. "For all his faults, de Glanville is a Ffreinc nobleman. And if I've learned anything these last years, it is that the noble Ffreinc look out for their own. William may not like de Glanville very much-no blame there, God knows-but he will bargain. All we need do is make sure the ransom is not so high that the king will refuse to pay."
Following the eviction of the Ffreinc from the cantref, Bran had swiftly moved to occupy not only the fortress of Caer Cadarn, but the nearby town as well, reclaiming them for the Cymry. To that end, he had summoned the venerable Bishop Asaph to return and take charge of the abbey at Saint Martin's. Before being forced into exile by Abbot Hugo, the elderly cleric had been the head of Llanelli, the monastery Count Falkes de Braose had pulled down and rebuilt, and around which he had constructed his new town. As soon as Asaph, along with a goodly body of monks, was firmly installed and keeping watch over the town and its inhabitants-both the remaining Ffreinc townsfolk and the wounded knights, all of whom had been left behind by the abbot and his troops-Bran then moved to regain control of the fortress. This was swiftly done, since the Ffreinc had abandoned the stronghold before the last battle; they had never worried that King Raven would attack it in any case, and only ever kept a token occupation in place. Bran gave the defence of the caer and the valley round about to Iwan, with Siarles and Alan to help. He sent Tomas and Rhoddi on fast horses to ride throughout Elfael and to settlements in the nearest cantrefs and spread the news that King Raven had driven out the Ffreinc invaders and taken Caer Cadarn: all who could were to gather weapons and supplies and come occupy the caer-for safety, for defence, and so that Elfael's ancient stronghold would not be abandoned.