plausibly that it took her more than a week to realise that, in spite of all the smiles and promises, she had but rescued her lord from a Welsh prison to fling him into an English one. The king's whole train took up residence in the Tower—for this tower, as they call it, is a city in itself—as soon as we came to London, and there King Henry kept court some days, while the southern part of his host was dispersed again to its own lands. So there was no occasion to wonder that all our party were quartered there, too, the royal children in a small house within the green, with my mother and me in attendance, and my mother's husband as groom and manservant, the Lord Griffith and his lady in a well-furnished apartment in the great keep. The men she had brought with her as escort from Wales were withdrawn to the guardrooms with the garrison, the steward and the clerk had a small lodging in another corner. And thus we were distributed about that great fortress, within easy reach one of another, yet separate. But the whole place being, as it were, one vast household, there was no occasion to wonder, or to question the host's use of his own house and his arrangements for his honoured guests.
For two days no one of us felt any need to look beyond the walls, for we had this new and strange world to examine, and it did not appear until the Lord Griffith made to ride out and take a curious look at London, on the third day, that the gates were impassable to him. The guard turned him back, without explanation but that he had his orders, which it was not for him to question. The Lord Griffith applied forthwith to the officer, with the same result, and then, still in good-humour, for he suspected nothing but a mistake, or some misapprehension as to who he was, to the lieutenant. The lieutenant entreated his patience, but the order did indeed apply to him, for the king was concerned that he should not yet adventure his life in the streets, where he was not known to the citizens, and might be all too well known to some stray Welshman embittered by the recent war, for many such worked and studied in the city, and some who favoured David's cause would certainly be gathering in preparation for his coming. This he accepted as a compliment, that the king should be at such pains to guarantee his safety, however this kindly care limited his movements for a while.
But some few days later he enquired again, growing restive, and on being refused exit without his Grace's own orders to the contrary, requested an audience with the king. But it seemed King Henry had withdrawn for a few days to Westminster, having unfinished business with his council there.
Perhaps he had, for at this time it may be he had not quite made up his mind where his best interests lay. If that be true, in two days more he had come to a decision, for that day the Lord Griffith was stopped not at the outer or the inner gate, but at the door of his own apartments. Two officers, unknown to him, unimpressed by him, perfectly indifferent to his protests, informed him that they had orders to allow the Lady Senena to pass in and out as she pleased, that she might visit her children when she would, take exercise, spend her nights either here with her lord or below in the house where her family was lodged. But that he was to remain within these rooms. They no longer cared to pretend that it was for his own protection. Whatever he needed for his comfort should be provided, the maintenance the king paid him would continue, he should not want for service. But he was not to pass the door of this chamber. Nor did he, ever again.
It was she who raged, protested, harried every official she could reach with her complaints. He had known captivity before, and recognised its familiar face instantly, and knew his own helplessness. Nor had he the refuge she possessed, for a time at least, in disbelief. If she could get to King Henry, if she could but speak with him in person, all this
Tiffany Reisz
Ian Rankin
JC Emery
Kathi Daley
Caragh M. O'brien
Kelsey Charisma
Yasmine Galenorn
Mercy Amare
Kim Boykin
James Morrow