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Caitlyn Box Set

Page 61

by Elizabeth Davies


  ‘We do not have to speak of it. If it distresses you, I am truly sorry.’

  ‘For what?’ I pointed at the oatcakes. He held one while I bit into it. The cherry pieces tasted sweet, the ruby jewels buried in the cake like pebbles in sand. ‘What did Joan tell you?’

  He looked away. ‘Sir Ifan thinks you are a spy. He tortured you.’ His jaw clenched. ‘When you told him nothing, because you had nothing to tell, he pulled your fingernails out and whipped the soles of your feet. As soon as Joan discovered your plight, she demanded Ifan release you but thought you would be safer if there were some distance between you and that bastard. You will be safe at Abergavenny,’ Hugh hastened to reassure me. ‘Eva will take care of you.’

  I thought it was me who was supposed to be taking care of Eva? At least the story Joan told the English was believable and had brought out the gallant knight in Hugh of Pembroke.

  ‘You were only looking out for your mistress,’ Hugh continued. ‘And I was doing the same for my lord. Which is why I followed you to Will’s door.’

  He wanted to travel down that path, did he? My thoughts were clearer now, and although he denied intending to harm me, I recalled the strength in his hands as I fought for air.

  ‘You tried to suffocate me, and you might have succeeded if Ifan had not followed us both,’ I said.

  ‘My intention was not to hurt you, but you struggled more than a woman your size should. I merely wanted to remove you from the corridor. I knew who William was entertaining that night, and I knew what harm it would cause if anyone were to discover Lady Joan in Will’s quarters. I have never seen him so smitten.’

  Was it really fate? Were Joan and William destined to be together? Is that what drew him to her, or had she slipped something in his wine? Or burned a lock of his hair, while dancing widdershins around a drawn circle and chanting incantations?

  ‘He took an incredible risk,’ Hugh said.

  ‘So did you!’

  He raised an eyebrow.

  ‘I saw you with Margedd.’

  The eyebrow remained raised. Surely, he had not forgotten her already.

  ‘Margedd, the wife of Barris, one of Llewelyn’s barons?’ I reminded him. ‘In the stable? Barris would put you to death if he knew what you had done.’

  The eyebrow had not returned to its former position, and there was no hint of recognition on his face. This man was a cad. The bed ’em and forget ’em type. I tutted in disgust.

  ‘I know who she is, so no need for your sarcasm. I didn’t think we had been seen. Except by that stallion of Llewelyn’s and I was pretty sure he wasn’t going to say anything.’ Hugh’s eyes widened, and he blanched as soon as the words left his mouth.

  Oh, Lord, this was simply too funny, and I took enjoyment from his alarm. He was obviously thinking about a certain cat, a jug of wine, and his new-found ability to talk to animals, and he was wondering who the horse had told.

  Then another idea occurred to me, and I held my breath and bit my lip, remembering the slow smile as he had turned back to his lover. The smile had been aimed at the cat. The same cat who had talked to him…

  We both jumped at a knock on the door, and before either of us could say anything, it was opened, and a head peered around it. A female head. A rather pretty female head, with acorn-brown curls and laughing eyes.

  ‘Do you require anything else, my lord? Oh.’ She saw me and stopped, then gave Hugh a slightly accusing look.

  ‘My sister.’ His stare bored into my face, daring me to contradict him.

  Was that the best he could do? Sister?

  ‘Oh, I see.’ The servant smiled at me. ‘Can I get you anything, my lady?’

  ‘No, thank you. You have been kind enough to bring me this tray,’ I said.

  ‘But I thought—’ She glanced at the empty plates. Perhaps she had been hoping to take part in a cosy supper for two, although it looked like Hugh had more than supper on his mind.

  ‘Did my brother not make himself clear? The food was for me. Hugh will eat in the hall with the others. If there is anything left.’ I gave him a bright smile. ‘Thank you, brother. I shall retire now. I am exhausted after the journey.’

  He got slowly to his feet. He was looking at my tattered hands and my feet in those over-large boots, and frowning, making connections.

  Acorn-curls coughed, and Hugh blinked. He gave an imperceptible shake of his head and the moment passed.

  I had got away with it.

  ~~~~~

  William snored. Not loudly, but once I became aware of it, it grew in volume until the small chamber filled with the sawing, irritating noise. Another dose of Joan’s bitter drink had given me relief from my injuries and brought my fever down, and I slept through half the night, but now I was awake and becoming crosser with each breath Lord William took. Joan was welcome to him, if he made that racket every night.

  Hugh stirred.

  Thunk. A snort. William sat up. ‘Ow.’

  ‘Shut up,’ Hugh whispered loudly.

  ‘What did you hit me with?’

  ‘My boot.’

  ‘Did you have to?’

  ‘You were snoring.’

  ‘Yes, but a boot?’

  ‘Go back to sleep.’ Hugh sounded weary. I wondered if Acorn-curls had worn him out.

  Before long the snoring resumed. I anticipated another boot.

  ‘Where were you?’ Hugh said to me, so low I barely heard him.

  ‘When?’

  ‘When you saw us? Margedd and I.’

  I had not got away with it after all. ‘Passing by the stable,’ I said.

  ‘We entered and left separately. Both of us were extremely careful.’

  Of course, they had been. Hugh was randy, not stupid, and Margedd would not risk being seen.

  ‘The stables were empty when I arrived,’ he continued. ‘I picked the stall next to Llewelyn’s destrier for a good reason.’

  Yes, because he knew no one in their right mind went near the animal unless they had to. And because he knew how to keep the horse quiet.

  A long silence. I didn’t know what to say. I could insist I had crept in, saw them, and left. Yes, I would do that. If I stuck to my story, he could not refute it, and all I needed to say was that Joan wanted me to keep an eye on Margedd. If Hugh thought my interest had been in the woman rather than him, he might let the matter drop. Or not.

  Before I could put my story into words, Hugh said, ‘Are you familiar with Lady Joan’s cat?’

  My heart stopped in my chest. He knew what I was. He had pieced it together, and now I had to find some way to dispose of him before he spread the story. I would have to find a way to sprinkle some of Joan’s precious ground-up belladonna root onto his food.

  He scooted across the floor, still wrapped in his cloak, wriggling like a black maggot in the darkness. Would he strangle me quietly and dispose of my body? Accuse me and watch as I was dragged before the priest to face drowning or being burnt at the stake? Or would he try to use me for his own ends?

  ‘Don’t think me mad, but I believe the cat saw us,’ he whispered.

  I inched further away, balancing on the edge of the straw-stuffed mattress.

  He clambered aboard and sighed. ‘That is better. I swear those floorboards have splinters bigger than my arm. Worry not, I have no intention of accosting you,’ he added, as I almost fell off the other side of the pallet. He pulled the covers over his shoulders.

  ‘A cat.’ My voice was dry and flat.

  ‘I have seen this cat on several occasions. She belongs to Lady Joan, and I swear by all that is holy she knows what I say to her.’

  ‘Many animals do.’ I turned onto my side, my back towards him and pretended to prepare to sleep, my yawn all for show. Inside my stomach churned.

  ‘But not in this way. She asked for wine!’ he exclaimed.

  ‘You are mad. Asked for wine?’

  ‘She did! Not in actual words, but she nodded her head and meowed.’

  ‘Mad
,’ I repeated. Drop it, Hugh. Please.

  ‘I have a grandmother,’ he said, ‘who insists I am blessed.’ He shifted, his arm against my back, his warmth seeping into me. Comforting.

  ‘She says, that when I was still at my mother’s breast, a wise woman told her I carried the gift of making all who know me love me: men, women, children, even animals. It has proved to be true. I find it easy to bond with folk. There are few who dislike me, and if I put my mind to it, I can usually charm most of them.’

  He scooted closer until the length of him, from shoulder to knee, nestled against me. ‘Animals, especially, respond to me.’

  ‘Llewelyn’s stallion,’ I said, without thinking.

  ‘Exactly! I have yet to meet a horse, cow, fox, crow, dog, cat, or any other creature, that I cannot tame. When I was a child, my mother despaired of all the stray animals I brought home, particularly ill or orphaned ones. In the end, she forbade me to bring any into the house, and my father had to section off a part of the hay barn because I cried so.’

  ‘Perhaps you should have been a healer.’ I turned onto my back and stared at the ceiling, the beams mere shadows in the dark. Now that I had an explanation for my strange reaction to him I was more inclined to play nice. I had been charmed, not careless, or stupid. Or lust-filled. From the first time we met, this man held an attraction for me, and I was relieved to discover it wasn’t because I was losing my mind nor my sense of self-preservation.

  ‘I preferred swords to learning, and I am good at warcraft,’ he said.

  Obviously. Those knights who were not, did not live long.

  ‘Like most boys, I dreamt of battle and valour. It is a pity the reality is not as pleasant,’ he said. ‘It is too late to learn another trade, now. I am a soldier and have a long way to go before I pay off my debt to Marshal.’

  ‘What debt?’

  ‘Ah,’ he sighed. ‘I went out of my way to make him notice me. Me, a mere farm boy, when he had the sons of the richest men in England vying for the opportunity to squire for him. He noticed me alright. Agreed to make a knight out of me, if I pledged twenty years of my life to his service. He holds me to my word, even though I have made enough money to buy myself out of the agreement ten times over. Seems he likes having me under his command. I have become a victim of my own success.’

  ‘I thought you were Abergavenny’s man?’

  ‘I am, in a way. Marshal sent me to Abergavenny when William married Marshal’s daughter, to protect her. I have three years left to serve.’

  ‘What will you do after?’

  ‘I will buy some land, if Marshal will sell it to me. There is a farm on the edge of the Pembroke peninsular, not far from the cathedral at St David, overlooking the sea.’ Hugh’s voice softened, full of imminent sleep and I felt him relax as he murmured, ‘The fields are green, and the sheep grow fat on the heather-covered hills. It is good country for cows, too. There is fish in the river, or caught from the sea, and plenty of rabbit, hare, and boar to hunt.’

  ‘You sound like you know the place well.’

  ‘I should – my father farms it. I vow to own it one day.’

  Chapter 17

  The next few days followed the same pattern, and with each one that passed my strength returned, and my hands and feet healed. By the fourth day on the road, I declined Hugh’s help and fed myself. In all honesty, I could have seen to my own needs before then, but I grew accustomed to the concentration on his face when he selected a choice piece of meat or fish to tempt me. I liked the intimacy of him feeding me, and enjoyed our quiet moments of conversation, and I liked having him close, even if it was his gift I was reacting to and not the man himself.

  He took to riding alongside the cart, which travelled in the middle of the column of riders and speaking with me. I learned he had three brothers and two sisters, none of whom he had seen in a long while.

  ‘Lew is a blacksmith, Alun and Penn help Da run the farm, and the two girls are married with homes of their own. Lew is married too, and so is Penn. Alum and I are the only ones not to have found a good woman.’

  He looked down at me, as I peeped out from underneath the canvas, and smiled. His eyes crinkled, and I watched the way the corners of his mouth curved up. His lips were pink in the cold air and so was the tip of his nose, although the short growth of stubble he had recently acquired probably kept his chin warm. I wondered whether it would feel coarse or soft under my fingers, and I shivered. Probably from the cold. Sitting motionless in a cart all day was not conducive to keeping warm.

  ‘What about you? Have you family?’ he asked.

  Not anymore. Anyone I cared about is long dead, but I had to tell him something, so I gave him a two-hundred-year-old truth. ‘Yes, I have a father, a mother, two brothers, and a sister. All are married with children.’ Those children had become dust long ago, as had their children, and their children’s children. I supposed I must have relatives somewhere, but they were now too distant, too removed, for me to care about.

  ‘How long ago did your husband die?’ he asked.

  Not an unreasonable question. For a woman of my age not to have been wed wasn’t unheard of, but it was unusual, therefore Hugh had arrived at the logical conclusion that my husband must be dead.

  ‘A while.’ Not a lie, but his death occurred before William the Conqueror invaded England. He did not exactly ‘die’, either. Die suggested an illness or an ailment, or mayhap an accident. Rhain had been slaughtered. Brutally.

  ‘Children?’ he asked.

  ‘I am barren.’ I had been Rhain’s second wife, and the first had been fertile enough for the both of us. He had eleven living children when sickness took her and three who had not survived infancy. Even if I could not give him any more heirs, at least I had been a mother to the surviving ones. It was a pity they had hated me.

  Silence greeted my words. Barren women were little more than outcasts, of use only to God. He might welcome them, but most normal folk did not, and they were often shunned because everyone knew a barren woman had been cursed by the devil.

  Was that pity I saw on Hugh’s face? If so I did not want it, and I let the canvas drop and hid away for the rest of the day.

  ~~~~~

  Montgomery, the place where William of Abergavenny had lost his freedom to Llewelyn, consisted of a half-built castle and a mostly deserted village. The village had sprung up to house the various workers, and since all construction on the castle had been halted, those workers had left to find employment elsewhere. Scaffolding hid most of the workings from view, although bits of wall were silhouetted against the lighter sky, like broken, jagged teeth, and the encroaching night gave it a haunted, eerie feel.

  Marshal’s men waited for us, camped in an empty wattle-and-daub building. Marshal had not accompanied them, probably too busy dancing attendance on King Henry, and I wondered if William had expected more fanfare from his father-in-law.

  Barris, as Llewelyn’s representative, checked the contents of the locked chest and, satisfied the gold was all there, retreated back to Criccieth with haste, leaving William and the rest of the prisoners by the side of the rutted, muddy road. He left the cart, too.

  I waited until the noise of the cantering hooves had been replaced by the crackle of a hearty fire and the bleating of sheep in a distant field, before clambering down from the cart.

  Men stood around, kicking at random leaves. No one appeared particularly pleased to see William, although once Hugh had dismounted, he received a few nods and a slap on the back. They were hardly the conquering heroes, and returning to the scene of their capture was ironic. The castle had barely made it higher than the first storey before Llewelyn had taken umbrage at its construction and had shown his displeasure at Marshal’s temerity in attempting to build an English castle on Welsh soil, by attacking it.

  I was edging towards the fire, seeking its warmth, one of the furs destined for Isabella wrapped around me, when there was a startled shout. I had been spotted by Marshal’s band.


  ‘She is with me. With us.’ Hugh strode forwards. ‘Come, sit by the fire,’ he said to me and took my hand to lead me through the open door, and motioned for me to sit on a log; any furniture initially in the house had disappeared along with its owner. The night promised to be a long and uncomfortable one, but at least a bubbling, steaming pot hung suspended over the fire, and the aroma of stewing meat made my mouth water. A man sat next to it, slicing carrots and throwing them in.

  The meal lived up to its promise, and I used a hunk of bread to mop up the dregs in the bowl, savouring each bite. Heat spread out from my stomach, and I leaned back, replete. Night had fallen and sleep called, but I was too tired and comfortable to seek out my bedroll.

  ‘Make yerself useful.’ Someone thrust a bowl in my face. ‘You can clean up.’ The man belched and scrubbed his hand across his mouth.

  ‘She will do nothing of the sort,’ Hugh said. ‘She is no servant.’

  ‘Neither is he.’ The soldier jerked his head at the man who had cut the carrots. ‘But he cooked, so she can clean. Unless she has some other duty in mind.’ He leered and rubbed his crotch.

  ‘If you bring that piddling little thing near me, I’ll slice it like those carrots and add it to the pot,’ I said, without looking up.

  Silence. Then a loud laugh from William. ‘I think she means it, Percy.’ He leaned forward, the laughter melting from his face. ‘She has not had an easy time. I would be grateful if you did not upset her.’

  For a moment I saw what Joan saw – the man behind the lord – and gave him a small smile of gratitude.

  He picked up the nearest bowl. ‘I will do it.’

  I stood and took it from him. ‘For your kindness, my lord, I will gladly see to washing the bowls.’ Anyway, I needed to stretch legs cramped from days of sitting and I welcomed the opportunity to be useful.

  Percy jerked his head to the left. ‘There is a stream down yonder. About a hundred paces.’

  The ground sloped steeply away, and after collecting the bowls and the knife used to cut the vegetables and dice the mutton, I followed a well-worn path down a steep gulley to the stream. After several steps, I glanced behind. Both the fledgling castle and the hamlet around it were obscured by trees. The rumble of men’s voices and the stamp of hobbled horses gradually gave way to the burble and gush of water over rocks. For the first time in many days, I was alone and I welcomed the solitude.

 

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