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basket of fresh fruit when he heard Richard caught the red fever.”
    â€œThere you are!” said my father. “His soldiers loved him and his enemy admired him. Saladin sent King Richard pomegranates and grapes, lemons, cucumbers: rare fruits almost as costly as jewels.”
    â€œOliver says the Saracens worship a false prophet,” I said.
    â€œThey do,” replied my father.
    â€œAnd he says Hell’s mouth is waiting for Saladin.”
    â€œI doubt it,” said my father. “Saladin and Coeur-de-Lion! They were both fighting a holy war. One called it a jihad, the other a crusade. From all I’ve heard, Saladin was a noble man. Far better than King Richard’s own brother.”
    My father looked at Serle and picked his teeth. “This is not the first time our new king has told his earls and lords and knights what he thinks they want to hear,” he said. “Not so long ago he made us all false promises in the hope of stealing his brother’s crown, and that was while Coeur-de-Lion was fighting for Jerusalem. You understand that, Serle?”
    â€œYes, father.”
    â€œKing John does not always mean what he says. And he says one thing and does another.”
    â€œFickle!” said my mother.
    â€œWhen a man gives his word,” my father said, “you should be able to rely on it. You can’t rely on King John’s word. Our Welsh friends will soon smell this out.”
    â€œWill they attack us?” I asked.
    â€œListen!” said my father. “If the Welsh can find a way to capture the lands held by the Marcher lords, you can be quite certain they’ll do it.”
    â€œCapture?” said my mother. “No! Recapture! These lands are Welsh lands.”
    â€œWhat if King John promises the Earl of Hereford he will support him with soldiers,” my father asked, “but then fails to do so? It won’t take us long to hear about it, and it won’t take the Welsh long either. Then we’ll all be at risk. Hereford, Shrewsbury, even Chester, let alone the little castles and manors like our own.”
    â€œHowever!” said my mother, half-smiling.
    â€œHowever,” my father said, “your mother is Welsh. Nain is Welsh. And your grandfather, the dragon, he was a warlord.”
    â€œRed!” said Nain unexpectedly. “Red to the roots of his hair.”
    â€œThe reason why your mother and I married…” my father began, “the main reason why our fathers arranged our marriage was to make peace in this part of the March.”
    â€œMust I be betrothed?” asked Sian.
    â€œSsshhh!” said my mother. “Your father’s talking.”
    â€œWhen?” demanded Sian.
    â€œI don’t know. Eleven. Or twelve. I was twelve.”
    â€œErk!” said Sian. “Do I have to?”
    â€œThat’s enough, Sian,” said my father.
    â€œI used to think half the English were drunkards and the other half robbers,” my mother said. “That’s what I used to think.” Then she smiled at my father and put an arm around his shoulders and kissed him on the cheek.
    â€œThe Welsh have strange notions,” said my father. “But not as strange as the people who live in Greece and Sicily.”
    â€œWhy?” asked Serle.
    â€œSir William was there with Coeur-de-Lion,” my father said, “and he helped King Richard rescue his sister, Joan. In Sicily, they took a number of hostages, and do you know what some of them asked Sir William? They asked him what he had done with his tail.” My father pushed back his chair and threw back his head, and laughed. “Can you believe it? They thought every Englishman had a tail. And the Greeks! They thought the same. Well!” said my father, “the English have their weaknesses, but they haven’t got tails. The only people with tails are those the devil has chosen. He enters their heads and hearts and deforms