Uneasy Lies the Crown by N. Gemini Sasson

Author:N. Gemini Sasson [Sasson, N. Gemini]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781939344007
Amazon: B00A27A1UA
Barnesnoble: B00A27A1UA
Goodreads: 16142292
Publisher: Cader Idris Press
Published: 2012-10-31T16:00:00+00:00

32

Sycharth, Wales — October, 1402

Although confined under heavy guard at Sycharth now, Sir Edmund Mortimer could not deny that he had been treated like a prince. The chamber where he had spent these past months was a comfortably furnished second-story room, the window of which overlooked the withering stubble of the herb garden and an orchard pregnant with apples. The wounds he had received at Pilleth had been superficial and healed quickly. A few deep bruises had made him sore for a short while, but all in all he had been far from bedridden. It was a quiet, contemplative existence that left him feeling more restless than anything.

As a burning summer gave way to the sharp chill of October, he yearned to walk freely—without a small army of Welsh soldiers eyeing his every move. Even as he gazed out his window, three guards stared up at him in warning and yet more paced their watch at every turn of the manor grounds. No, he was no prince after all.

Edmund barely heard the soft rapping of knuckles at his door. “Enter,” he bade.

The outside bar slid heavily across its anchor and the door opened only slightly. It was several seconds before the fair features of the young Lady Catrin’s face presented itself.

Swallowing, Edmund clasped his hands firmly behind his back. During the few occasions that Owain had granted Edmund the favor of sharing supper in the great hall, he had introduced him to several of his children, but one in particular caught Edmund’s attention. Still, it had been an awkward affair for Edmund to sup in the presence of his captors, although both Owain and his lovely wife had charmed him beyond belief with their generosity. He had never received such kindness from King Henry.

When not chasing after English troops, Owain came to Edmund’s chambers often, merely to talk with him. It had surprised Edmund how learned a man he was. The Welsh prince’s eyes lit brightly as he talked of Charlemagne and Alexander the Great with obvious admiration and Julius Caesar with a twinge of pity. He had even taught Edmund a thing or two about the dark maelstrom of Welsh history—always pointing to its power struggles among kinsmen as its downfall. It was through these musings that Edmund began to understand more of the man than just the shrewd general he had seen from the other side of the battle line. Edmund was well aware that Owain was playing to his sense of loyalty and the frequent visits of this long-lashed, golden haired daughter were a ploy of genius to weaken him.

“I have brought you some books,” Catrin said softly, as she set a tall stack on the round table where he took most of his meals alone.

Turning his unfocused gaze to the world beyond his window, he said, “I don’t think I have ever seen so many books in one household before, except for King Richard’s.”

“My father says you can never have enough.” She selected a book and, clutching it to her chest, moved in front of him.

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