"I will keep the north for you, and the centre," said Llewelyn. "I and mine—Rhys Fychan, Meredith ap Owen, all those who hold with me—will do our best in the south. So much I promise you. More I cannot do."
"More I dare not ask," said Henry with humility. "Unless there could be more of
you!
Did you never think, my lord, of getting yourself a noble consort, and a generation of sons?"
"I am thinking of it now," said Llewelyn.
Earl Simon's great parliament was slow in getting into session, for even at the end of February some of the knights of the shires had not arrived, and those who had, so said Cynan in a message he sent us during that time, were uneasy at the expense of their long stay, and had to be allowed funds from the public purse to maintain them. But in March the debate began, and to all appearances much was achieved. A form of peace was painfully produced, continuing the present provisional rule, re-uniting Henry and the lords he had repudiated at Lewes as king and vassals, and by a clever manipulation of legal forms placing the control of the greatest royal castles in the hands of the council, while not attempting to alienate the king's title to them, or his son's. Dispossession was never in Earl Simon's mind. His hope—a vain hope in this world—was always for final and universal goodwill, so that restraints should wear away naturally and cease to be needed.
As the promised part of this settlement, the Lord Edward was released from captivity, though not from surveillance. He took the oath to maintain the form of government agreed, to refrain from any act against those who had created it, and to forbear from bringing in aliens himself or allowing others to do so, all this on pain of disinheritance if he broke his oath. It seems to me that Earl Simon, even if he never admitted it to himself, knew the worth of Edward's word, and did all he could to bind him.
However that may be, the prince formally accepted all, and acknowledged that the baronage had the right to turn against him and repudiate him if he broke his oath. Then both he and Henry of Almain, his cousin, were released from their prison and given into the king's care. But Henry de Montfort, though no longer their gaoler, as he had said, was to remain Edward's constant companion, and ward on his honesty. And since the king himself was safely in Earl Simon's control, so were the two young men, at one remove.
"I see all manner of dangers crowding in upon him behind this seeming triumph," said Llewelyn, pondering the outcome with a disturbed and sombre face, "however bright the surface shines. Again and again it is plain here that he can trust none of them but his own sons and a handful of others, and if his mind does not yet know it, his heart does. Therefore he cannot choose but confide more and more of the needful work to those few, and the rest begin to murmur against his preference for his own, while they themselves are the cause of it. Even his insistence on justice works against him! He has called men of his own party to order, even imprisoned the earl of Derby, for offences against other men's lands, and for that all those who have followed him for gain will turn and hate him, fearing their own turn may come next. He has offended Giffard of Brimpsfield, one of his few supporters in the march, over the misuse of prisoners and ransom, and Giffard is airing his grievance to Gloucester, who sees himself as good a leader as Earl Simon if he had his chance, and may even be in two minds about making his own opportunity. The more Simon stands erect and tries to do absolute right as he sees it—for God knows no man in this world can hope to see it whole every day in the year!—the more the envious will envy and the greedy resent him. And the more certain they are that he will never go back on his word, the more they have him at their mercy. Even his devotion to bishops, the best of their cloth in the land, and their reverence for him, so far from convincing the pope, only turns Simon into Anti-christ and them into heretics, in rebellion against Rome's authority. This is a fight he can win only one way, with the sword, again and again, and that is not the victory he wants. What can this world do with such a man?"
"Or with such bishops," I said. For no less than nine of them, in full pontificals, had closed that parliament with the solemn excommunication of all those who transgressed against the great charter, the forest charter and the present statutes, the bible of civil liberty.
"Break them," said Llewelyn bitterly, "and put smooth noblemen from Savoy and Poitou in their places."
I said, for I also saw the same stony barrier blunting every attempt at advance: "He may yet be forced to take the sword again. And with the sword he is their master."
"If they can force him to hold down England with arms," cried Llewelyn with sudden passion, "they will have defeated him, as surely as if they beat him in battle. It is his dilemma. I pray it may not be his tragedy!"
It was as if I argued with my own heart. Every word he said I felt to be true. And greatly I marvelled how he, watching and fretting at a distance, had come by a sharper understanding of Earl Simon than I had gained in the earl's own retinue.
CHAPTER XI
Before the beginning of April we were reminded of all that we had said together, for Meurig came riding into Bala, where Llewelyn's court had removed while the shaky quiet held, with a scrip full of gossip he had collected about the horse-markets of Gwent and Gloucester. Yearly he grew greyer and shaggier and smaller, more like a seeding thistle, but he was wiry and tough as thorn still, and had very sharp ears for all the tunes the wind brought him.
"There's more goes on below the hangings than is known abroad," he said. "Gilbert of Clare took himself off from Westminster before parliament ended or the peace was made, and went home to Gloucester with all his men. Some say in displeasure over the earl of Derby's fall, for his own conscience is not altogether clear. Some say for jealousy of the de Montfort sons. There was to have been a grand tournament at Dunstable, a court function, on Shrove Tuesday—did you hear of that?—but they got wind of high feeling between the Clares and the Montforts, and found it easier to call off the occasion on the plea that all good men were needed at court to aid in the Lord Edward's settlement. They put it off until the twentieth of this month at Northampton, hoping the bad blood would need no letting by then. And John Giffard was not long after the earl in quitting London, they say for fear of the law reaching for him as it had reached for Ferrers. He's with Gilbert now, hand in glove. The latest word is that the council called on Gilbert to make good his pledge as guarantor, and see the castle of Bamburgh handed over, and Gilbert has sent a very left-handed answer, pleading that he cannot take any steps because he is fully occupied defending his Gloucester borders. Against
you
, my lord!"
"I have not so much as cast a glance in his direction," said Llewelyn warmly. "What can the man be up to?"
"That is what the earl of Leicester is also wondering. Nor is Bamburgh the only castle still detained."
"I know it," said Llewelyn drily. "Shrewsbury, for one." For we knew by then that David was there, still tethered on his long leash, it seemed, as close as he could get to Gwynedd, as though he had been tied by his heart-strings, as indeed perhaps he was.
"And others," said Meurig, nodding his silvery head, "and others! It cannot be overlooked for ever. If Earl Gilbert does not appear at Northampton on the twentieth to run a course among the rest at this tournament, I think the earl of Leicester will be forced to go and smoke him out of Gloucester in person. The young man has been his right hand ever since Lewes; he cannot afford to be at odds with him, or leave him to his sulks. Who would replace him?"
"And they have called another parliament in June," said Llewelyn, listening and brooding. "Will it ever meet, I wonder?"
When the prince laid all these considerations before his council, Goronwy put his finger on the heart of the matter.
"There is one man," he said, "who could resolve all this if he would, and only one. It is pointless affirming to King Louis and pope and cardinal that England is at one, and King Henry consents to his lot, when it is plain he consents only under duress, however many oaths he swears. But their arguments and their weapons would be blunted if the crown did indeed consent and work with the earl and the council. All that the marchers and their kind are doing is done in the name of the royal liberties and privileges, and all the orders that issue from the chancery under the king's seal are all too clearly Earl Simon's orders, and can be denounced. But it would not be so easy to denounce them if the crown actively linked hands with the earl and repudiated the troublers of the peace. Aloud, voluntarily and credibly. King Henry never will, granted, he has fought every step of the road. But there's one who already carries more weight than King Henry, and shows as a more formidable enemy and a more effective friend. And once he was inclined warmly enough towards the earl and the reform. Surely it is only personal grudges, not ideas, that divide them even now. If the Lord Edward willed to make this government secure, he could call off the marchers, silence King Louis, and disband the invasion fleet, at one stroke. He might even convince the pope. He could certainly disarm him."
Llewelyn looked to me for answer. "It is true," he said, "I remember, not so long ago, he went so far in support of the earl as to bring himself into suspicion and disgrace for a time. Is there any possibility, do you think, that he may raise himself far enough above his grudges to discover some good in this new order, and give it his countenance, if not his blessing?"
I said: "None! If he examined it in his own heart and found it perfect in justice and virtue, it would not change him, and he would not relent. Edward can be generous in friendship, even generous from policy, but once he turns to hating his hate is indelible. Edward will not lift a finger to make peace. But he will go to the last extreme to get his revenge."
When the twentieth of the month came, the earl of Gloucester still absented himself from the tournament at Northampton. According to report, he was encamped with an ominously strong force in the forest of Dean, with John Giffard in his company, and this continued sulking so disquieted Earl Simon that he decided to move to Gloucester himself, and take the king with him, and sent out writs to the baronial forces of the border shires to rally to him at that town. The young earl was headstrong and inexperienced, yet he had shown himself ardent, brave and able, and Earl Simon was grieved at being at odds with him, and very willing to meet him in a conciliatory manner and discuss freely whatever matters rankled with him.
As soon as we heard that the earl had taken his unwieldy court to Gloucester, Llewelyn, restive and uneasy, called up his own levies and moved them down into the central march, to be on the watch for whatever might follow, and ready to act upon it at need. He had a little hunting castle at Aberedw, near Builth, and took up residence there, and he took care to send word to Earl Simon where he could be found.
In the forests and hills round Gloucester, Gilbert of Clare and his fellows camped through the first days of May, and while they received messengers civilly, and even sent replies, they held off from making any closer contact. Earl Simon sent conciliatory envoys to try to arrange a meeting, and Earl Gilbert replied with a long list of bitter complaints, no longer troubling to hide his jealousy, but pouring out all his grievances, over prisoners, ransoms, castles, and the preferment of Earl Simon's sons. This seemed to be some progress, at least, yet all attempts to bring him to the desired meeting were somehow evaded. To us, looking on from Aberedw, it seemed almost that Earl Gilbert was playing for time, while he waited for something to happen.
That whole dolorous court was there with Earl Simon, proof once again that in his heart he trusted none of them. The king, hemmed in with all the officers and ministers who controlled him and spoke in his name, went where he was taken, by then so discouraged and apathetic that I think only his obstinacy kept him alive. And I confess I understand how many who had truly believed in Earl Simon's ideals, but had not his endurance or his responsibility, turned to pitying a tired and ageing man, and felt revulsion at witnessing his plight. Yet I think Earl Simon was as much a victim and a prisoner as he, caught in the same trap, and with even less possibility of escape.
Edward was there, too, accompanied everywhere by his two guardians, Henry de Montfort and Thomas of Clare, Earl Gilbert's brother. No doubt a Clare was added to the warders to try and balance that enmity between Clares and Montforts that was splitting the younger reform party into two, but that must have been an unhappy partnership, damaging to all three. Thomas of Clare slept in Edward's bedchamber. No doubt those two had plenty of time to talk together, while Earl Gilbert was holding off in the forest, and setting the night alight with his camp-fires all round Gloucester.