Gryff made the mistake of laughing when he first heard of it. Dafydd, of all people, to start an uprising. It seemed to him a farce that someone so like himself – loyal to the English crown, living among the Normans for so many years and from such a young age – would pretend to care about Welsh independence. Gryff said to Will that he thought it must be simple greed and maneuvering, that there must be some other motive than rebellion. Hadn’t Dafydd once plotted to murder Llewellyn, in hopes of gaining his brother’s lands and power? That old Welsh way of rival brothers. No one could seriously think such a man was committed to any cause but his own advancement.

But then the Welsh attacked more English castles, and Prince Llewellyn raised an army, and no one was laughing – least of all King Edward. Wales was in open and earnest rebellion.

“Who else has joined Llewellyn?” Gryff asked Will, who always knew every alliance, every political whisper. He knew as well exactly what Gryff was asking.

“Deheubarth.”

Will did not say more, because that one word told him the only thing that mattered. If the southern realm of Deheubarth had joined Llewellyn’s north in rebellion, his own family’s fate was inevitable.

Gryff looked at the hawk’s lure in his hands. He was repairing it, replacing feathers and attaching a stronger cord. Like the Welsh nobles, he thought: put the pieces together into the semblance of a bird that almost looked like it was flying free, but really it was only a target for the bird of prey. The hawk would strike it over and over, and one day soon it would fall to tattered pieces again.

“My father has joined the cause of Wales, then.” The alliance between families was ancient, and still strong after the last uprising. His father always chose Llewellyn’s fight over everything else.

“The Welsh have won many battles these past weeks. Many more than Edward would like.”

“Ever do they win for a time, before they lose. And when they lose this time, what will be my father’s punishment? Will he be forced to give his lands, or his other sons?”

Gryff might be reunited with his brothers after all these years if they too were made hostage. They would be fellow sacrifices to his father’s politics.

But the look on Will’s face put fear into him.

“It is not like the fighting of years past, Gryff. No more is it a mere nuisance to be tolerated by the king. Edward means to win at last, no matter the cost.”

Gryff had no illusions about King Edward’s skill at war, nor his capacity for ruthlessness. “My father will lose both, then. His sons and his lands.”