"Which of them moved?" asked Llewelyn, knee to knee with him by the fire.

  "Edward and Grey both! But I think Grey's was a decoy, for he moved first, and not far. Clocaenog forest to his western front was full of Welsh, and he knew it, and so did I. I kept my best watch to the north, and was ready for Edward when he moved, too. Not along the coast, but inland from Rhuddlan, over the uplands, and in force. His ground was easier, and I had not such stout allies in his way, those parts were never mine."

  "How far has he come?" asked Llewelyn. "He's still well north of you, it seems, you came out by the south."

  "He moved his headquarters as far as Llangernyw." It was a vil due west of Denbigh, and dangerously far advanced. David saw the prince frown at the risk he seemed to have taken, and fended him off, smiling. "I was out of Denbigh by then, and with my eye on every move he made. I knew I could outstrip him. We had much the same distance to cover to this place, but all that distance full of Welsh irregulars in arms. He has closed his ring round Denbigh, but I was out of the noose. I do not think he will even attempt to stay so far west, now I am clear of him. He'll creep in on Denbigh, and stay close to the Clwyd. It could still be dangerous in Llangernyw. The Middle Country will occupy him a week or two yet."

  "And what of Denbigh?" asked Llewelyn.

  "I've left it intact," said David, "I could do no other. The garrison I've left there may hold it as long as they think advisable, and then let it go to him on the best terms they can get for themselves, now we've had time to draw clear. He will not know how few they are until they let him in, and the place will be little use to him but as a repository for stores or reserves of men, now that line's broken. But I was loth to leave it."

  As it turned out, David's castellan held out at Denbigh until past the middle of the month, giving us ample time to have our more westerly line well manned and guarded, with couriers keeping contact across the Conway with the free companies of Rhos and Rhufoniog. Then he surrendered, in time, as we hoped, to spare his garrison the worst extremes of the king's revenge.

  Thus by mid-October Edward held all the line of castles which had formed our eastward defence, and could move freely along the Clwyd valley, though he still had not cleared all the land between the Clwyd and Conway, and seemed in no hurry to move against us until he had, for still de Tany waited in Anglesey and made no move, clearly having orders not to attempt the crossing until the king gave the word. The lull was hard on the nerves, but every day he delayed was a day nearer winter, and also encouraged us to believe it possible that he himself had similar thoughts.

  From this time our headquarters was at Dolwyddelan, from which the women and children had already been withdrawn, but much of the time we were on the move, watching both the north coast and the strait, and also the Conway valley, for the attack, when it came, would come from both directions. From the south we had then little news. Certainly the Welsh in those parts were still in arms, but the weight of numbers had turned severely against them, all the castles of the crown were strongly garrisoned, and there were reserves to spare for penetrating again into Cardigan. The prince's nephews could not make headway against such forces, but they could and did prevent them from being depleted by sending further divisions to join the king.

  So things stood on the twenty-third day of October, when two of our outposts at Rhydcasteli rode into Dolwyddelan, bringing with them a Franciscan friar, a tall man of middle years and grave bearing, on a sturdy mountain pony. Their manner towards him was rather that of an honourable escort than of warders on a suspect interloper, and when they reached the gatehouse one of them spurred ahead to be his herald.

  "This friar came alone into Rhydcastell, up the Dee valley from Dinas Bran, and asks for the lord prince. He says he bears letters from the archbishop of Canterbury, who is himself on his way to join the king at Rhuddlan, by way of Chester. His messenger speaks good Welsh, and is of our blood. They call him John of Wales."

  The friar followed him in impassively, and dismounted, shaking down the gown he had worn kilted to the knee. He had a calm, fierce face, like a vessel of passion perfectly controlled, and his form was muscular and lean. He would as well have made a soldier as a friar, but his name I knew, for he had a high reputation among scholars of theology, and I had heard Brother William de Merton and others at Llanfaes speak of him, they being of the same order. A strange time it seemed for such a man to appear alone riding into Eryri, in the teeth of a roused and by then bitter war.

  "I am come," he said to the castellan, who hurried out to meet him, "to present to the Lord Llewelyn, prince of Wales, the compliments of Archbishop Peckham, and my own credentials as his messenger. I have letters and articles for the lord prince. And the purpose of the archbishop's journey into Wales and my own is to try to put an end to this warfare, and bring about a just peace. If there is a welcome here for such an errand, I pray you bring me to Llewelyn."

  We brought him in with all ceremony, Tudor taking the guest in charge and offering him lodging and water and wine, after the old, honoured fashion, but he would take nothing until he had discharged his embassage to the prince. Llewelyn was in the armoury with his penteulu seeing certain minor damages to mail and weapons made good, and thither I went to tell him what manner of visitor we had. He reared his head sharply at the news, and opened his eyes wide, willing to go to meet every overture of peace, but putting as yet no great trust in this or any.

  "So he has not altogether forgotten or discarded us," he said, marvelling, and he was glad, whether good came of it or no, for he kept still, in spite of the archbishop's querulous strictures on Welsh law, a degree of respect and affection for that good, difficult man. "And he sent us a Welshman! Well done! I do believe he has a genuine care for his wild western flock, however they plague him with their adherence to the old ways. Let's go in, then, by all means, and see what Brother John Peckham sends us by Brother John of Wales."

  He went in as he was, dun and plain in leather, to the high chamber, and sent for the friar to be brought in. And when he came, the prince rose and went to meet him, paying him the courtesy and reverence of one noble man saluting another. Brother John delivered the letters he carried, and their bulk caused a brief smile to pluck at Llewelyn's mouth. It was to be expected that the archbishop would use many and ardent words, for he was never one to go sparingly with his tongue or his pen, and it needed little wisdom to foresee that most of the words he had used in these scrolls would be of reproach, accusation and admonition. Yet if he had had nothing at all but these to offer he would not have sent his brother-Franciscan venturing into the mountains.

  "You will understand," said the prince, "that we need time to weigh the archbishop's letters fairly, and also that I may consult my council, since I am acting not only for myself but for Wales. I trust you'll lodge with us and rest here in Dolwyddelan until we have our answer ready."

  "I am to wait for that answer," said Brother John, "as long as may be needful, though I urge haste. I am to carry your word on to meet the archbishop in the king's camp at Rhuddlan. And he prays you may be wisely guided, and provide him an answer that may end this warfare between kinsmen."

  "Justly," said Llewelyn.

  "Justly. So he has said, and so I say also."

  "Tell me," said the prince, "where is Archbishop Peckham now?"

  "I left him the day before yesterday at Aldridge, on his way to Chester. By now he may have reached the city. I do not think he will yet have moved on."

  "Then what the archbishop has to propose to us in these letters is purely his own? The king does not know what he has written?"

  "That is truth," said Brother John. "Indeed, he has taken this step very much against his Grace's will, and expects to incur his displeasure."

  "And if these letters provide a basis for further dealings, in the hope of a settlement, can we rely on truce while the argument goes forward?"

  "For that I shall be able to answer only when I reach Rhuddlan with your reply, which is the chi
ef reason for haste. At present this is but a sounding. But you know my archbishop, and you know that if he is once satisfied you mean to deal, and are in earnest, as he is, he can and will insist on truce being observed, so long as you and he continue to talk to each other like reasonable men."

  It was much to claim for any man, that he could venture into a deadly struggle without Edward's sanction, frustrate Edward's immediate plans, and hold him and all his army still while we bargained for a peace Edward did not want. Yet Llewelyn accepted that word without demur. Even Peckham might attempt it and fail, for all his valour, but he would not stop short of the ultimate effort, and if the truce he made was broken, he would not let even the king go unrebuked, whatever the consequences to himself. There was not much more could be asked of any man.

  "I do not believe," said David bluntly, when Brother John had withdrawn, "in this displeasure of the king's. This friar may be honest in swearing his archbishop comes against Edward's will, Peckham himself may believe it, but I do not. November's on the doorsill, for all his new castles his plans have not gone forward so well as he must have hoped. I think this is Edward's way of sounding out the ground with us, without himself appearing to be bending from his purpose."

  "The better reason for taking advantage of it," said Llewelyn drily. "We dare not over-value our situation or under-value his. We are back where we began, David, in Gwynedd west of Conway, but for those outposts that must draw back to us as soon as Edward moves. We are not broken, nor near it, we have no reason to despair, we are not suing for peace. But by God, we had better not refuse it if it is offered on any reasonable terms. I have watched Edward come to this station once before, and judged him then, as you judge him now, to be weighing his chances and ready to welcome a move for peace. I know the peace I got was hard enough, but it was to my advantage and to his, rather than fight to the end, and we both knew it. This time he has proceeded differently, he is not beset as he was then. This time he began with a longer view than one summer. I do not think he means to stop short of victory. And since we will not tamely yield him everything he wants over a conference table, and I doubt he'll agree to any terms short of that, I advise you to be ready, as I am, to set your back against the rocks of Snowdon, and make him pay dearly for every stone."

  We called to Dolwyddelan for that council all the princes and captains and chief tenants of Gwynedd who could then leave their troops and also had with us many councillors from the Middle Country and some from the south, for that castle had then become the court of Wales and its parliament. And there Llewelyn laid the archbishop's letters before his full council.

  Most neatly and methodically they were laid out, the mark of the man in every line, and the very tone of his voice, voluble, hectoring, kindly-meant, sure of its own God-given rightness. In seventeen numbered articles he had drawn up his message to us, and thus they proceeded, though after so long a time I cannot answer for the exact wording. Yet the gist I remember very well:

  1. That for the sake of our temporal and spiritual salvation, always dear to him, he was coming in person into our land.

  2. That he came against the will of the king, who was said to be greatly displeased at his intervention.

  3. That he begged and entreated us for the blood of Christ to return to our unity with the people of England and the king's peace, to which end he intended to do all that man could do.

  4. That we should note that his stay in these parts could not be long.

  5. That after his departure we should not find any other advocate to attempt the like for the sake of peace.

  6. That if we spurned his overtures he intended to write to pope and curia with the grievous news of our obduracy, on account of the deadly sins that were multiplying every day through this discord.

  7. That we should note that unless we accepted peace soon, the war would be waged against us with increased fury, beyond our bearing, since the royal power was every day growing greater.

  8. That we should note that the realm of England was under the special protection of the apostolic see, exceeding all other lands.

  9. That the Roman curia would in no wise allow the realm of England to be shaken, since that realm was particularly devoted to the faith.

  10. That it caused him bitter grief to hear the Welsh described as crueller than the Saracens, since those take Christians prisoner for ransom, but as he had heard, the Welsh cut the throats of their prisoners on the spot, as if they delighted only in the shedding of blood, or, which was even worse, hand over the bodies of the murdered for ransom.

  11. That nothing could excuse those who had launched a seditious, homicidal and destructive war at a time peculiarly sacred to the Redeemer.

  12. That he begged us to return to true Christian penitence, since we could not long sustain this war we had begun.

  13. That he begged us to inform him how we believed the disturbance of the king's peace, the public mischief and all other ills attendant, could be amended.

  14. That he begged us to inform him how, at this stage, peace could be effectively re-established. Though it seemed vain indeed to believe in the establishment of peace, when it had been so assiduously violated.

  15. Since the Welsh claimed that their laws and the terms of their treaty had not been honoured, let them state in detail the particulars complained of.

  16. That we should note that even if it were true, as we alleged, though he had no knowledge of it, that the Welsh had been derogated to an inferior status, yet that in no way justified them in being judges of their own cause, that they should thus attack the king's majesty.

  17. That unless some method of re-establishing peace were found, we should be proceeded against to the utmost by degree, military, ecclesiastical and parliamentary.

  "He has learned nothing, understands nothing, and offers nothing," said David with scorn, when we had all heard this reading. "We should have known! He sees but one side throughout. And do you note any word there of a just peace?"

  "He knows but one side because he has heard but one side," said the prince. "At least here he is asking us to put the other, and by my counsel, so we shall, and fully. He asks for our views on how the bitterness can be healed, the peace re-made. He asks us to enumerate our complaints, and say what clauses of the treaty have been broken. Those details we have by heart, for good reason, now let him hear every one, whether he can feel the smart of them as we have felt it, or no. It is our one opportunity."

  There were some among us more ready to be hopeful than he, and some who had less faith in the archbishop's sincerity, yet there was no man present who could afford to say other than yes to the invitation offered us. Late into the night and all the next day we clerks laboured with drafting and copying, answering one by one all the charges made against us, and setting out our own case for taking action in arms when all other redress was denied us, and compiling the huge list of wrongs done to us, and the treaty obligations spurned and broken to our damage since the peace of Aberconway. We had among our complainants the most trusted of Edward's Welsh judges, for Goronwy ap Heilyn, Hopton's colleague on the bench, had cast in his lot in angry despair of justice with David and the men of the Middle Country, and from this on acted as steward to David to the end. For more than four years he had done his best, both as justice and as bailiff of Rhos, to keep the balance between English and Welsh and do right to both, but when the breakage came he could do no other but go with Wales, for it was Wales that suffered wrong without remedy.

  Eleven separate schedules of grievances we compiled among us, seven being from individual princes and chiefs, and four presenting the complaints of whole regions. These were from Rhos, Tegaingl, Penllyn and Ystrad Alun. They varied in details as to forests thinned without leave, taxes exacted without right, arbitrary English law imposed where Welsh law applied, meadows misappropriated, vils occupied by force or extorted to add to the holdings of favoured hangers-on, but all cried out in grievous unison that an English tyranny had robbed them not only of t
heir Welsh laws, which had been solemnly guaranteed by treaty, but even of their local customs which harmed none, and further, had proceeded against them with ever-increasing harshness and injustice, in many cases, even by the English law the administrators claimed to uphold. The men of the Middle Country denounced the exactions and cruelties of Reginald de Grey in Chester, those of Ystrad Alun the overbearing rule of Roger Clifford, those of Penllyn burned against the constable of Oswestry. From the prince to the cottager in the remote tref it was the same story, and that story was true.

  Those who submitted schedules of their personal wrongs, apart from the prince himself, were David, all three of the nephews from Ystrad Tywi, Rhys Wyndod separately, and Griffith and Llewelyn together, all disinherited of lands rightfully theirs by the crown, the sons of Meredith ap Owen from Cardigan, Goronwy ap Heilyn, and Llewelyn ap Griffith ap Madoc of Maelor. Besides unjust disinheritance and expropriations, all complained of the interference of the king's officials within their lawful Welsh courts, of the arrogance of royal administrators who enforced attendance at their convenience wherever they chose, in defiance of old custom, of the exaction of illegal dues, interference with free movement and trade, and the infliction of English penalties, even to death, where a more humane Welsh law ought to have applied.