a clatter of hooves, and another groom led over a lovely grey mare, all fine boned and dark eyed and flagged of tail. She was a palfrey, and thus an expensive horse — of far more worth than my father’s courser had been.
I felt the first needle of worry. What if I allowed her to run away from me and she foundered in a ditch?
‘I need to see you ride her first,’ said Ludo. ‘If I am not satisfied, you will need to walk behind the carts, unless a place is found for you within them. Come, we will go to the orchard. There is space there for me to see you ride Dulcette, yet fence enough to stop the mare should she bolt.’
He led Dulcette to a mounting block. I walked over, trying not to notice that the earl was now standing, arms folded, watching, and mounted with Ludo’s help. Once I had settled my skirts and rested my feet in the stirrups, Ludo let me take up the reins, and, my heart in my mouth, I gave Dulcette’s flanks a little press with my legs.
She responded immediately. She had spirit and I knew at once that she was unnerved by this new rider upon her and that all she wanted was to dash. I held the reins firmly, and guided her through the mass of people and horses toward the orchard.
The mare’s ears kept flicking back toward me, and I could literally feel her trying to decide if she liked me or not — her muscles were bunched tight under the saddle.
I did not care if she liked me. All I asked was for her to respect me enough to obey me.
We reached the orchard and some space and quiet. My heart thudding, I gave Dulcette another press with my legs and clicked my tongue. She tried instantly to run away with me, as I had thought she would, but I pulled her back and spoke disapprovingly to her, warning her with my voice.
She responded, praise the saints, her ears twitching faster than a march fly, and I allowed myself to relax a little. I kept her to a hard walk until we reached the farthest reaches of the orchard, then I turned her back, and gave her a little more rein.
I had thought she might break into a trot or even a canter, but instead Dulcette did something remarkable, something I had never before felt while riding.
She broke into a fast-paced gait that was neither trot nor canter, but which was unbelievably smooth.
She ambled!
I had only ever seen a horse do it once before — the knight who had passed by our village had been riding a horse that ambled, and then I had watched in fascination at its fluid, effortless gait. An ambler was most highly regarded, for in this gait it could cross ground more speedily and with far less effort than could a horse that only progressed at a trot or canter. Amblers could go further and faster than most other horses.
I was riding a prized animal, indeed.
By the time I reached the gate where waited Ludo, I had a huge smile on my face — I simply couldn’t help myself.
‘She ambles!’ I cried, and Ludo’s face broke into a grin to match mine.
‘You will do well, mistress,’ he said. ‘My mind is easier now.’
I was still smiling in delight when I raised my head to look to the courtyard.
Instead, I met the eyes of Pengraic, who had been waiting a little further back, leaning nonchalantly against a wall, his arms still folded.
He caught my gaze, gave me an expressionless look, then turned away.
CHAPTER EIGHT
We departed Rosseley shortly afterward. The king, Summersete and Scersberie had been with the column forming on the road outside. Once the earl had mounted, he and Stephen led our contingent from the courtyard and the column began to move westward.
I turned on Dulcette’s back for a last look at Rosseley. The sun was well up and the manor house gleamed golden in the light, the meadows and orchard green and verdant. I must have intuited somehow that I would never return for the house blurred as tears formed in my eyes, and I turned back to the road ahead, wiping at my eyes as I did so.
I kept Dulcette close to the cart which held Lady Adelie, Mistress Yvette and Evelyn as well as Rosamund and the baby, John. Alice and Emmette rode their horses beside me; the twin boys, Ancel and Robert, also horsed, were far ahead close to their father.
The column held some sixty or seventy knights and men-at-arms. I was somewhat relieved to see that, while they all carried weapons, none wore their maille hauberks, which indicated that the king and earls did not think we were under any immediate threat. I thought the knights and soldiers must be relieved also, for today promised to be warm and the maille hauberks would have been stifling. Most of the knights and soldiers rode at the head of the column, but some fifteen or so brought up the rear behind me.
As well there were two score or so male servants and grooms, and another twelve carts besides that which held Lady Adelie. We travelled fast, even the carts, for we had some fifteen miles of roads and byways to travel to get to our first destination — Walengefort Castle, residence of the Earl of Summersete.
Dulcette was a delight to ride, her amble so smooth and comfortable I could relax completely. She and I had come to some silent agreement: we would respect each other. She no longer tried to run away with me, and I allowed her freedom in choosing her own path and pace. About mid-morning Ludo rode past and asked how I did. I simply smiled in return, and I think he was happy, giving me a nod as he rode on.
The day wore on. We stopped briefly at noon, resting under the shade of a group of beech trees and eating a lunch of fruit and bread and beer. I ate with the countess and her children (save the twin boys who stayed near their father), while the men cloistered themselves into two groups a little way off. Eventually, as servants packed away the lunch and men remounted their horses, Stephen came over to assist his mother and Evelyn back into the cart.
Then he led Dulcette over to a fallen log so that I might mount.
I was a little self-conscious with him this close and with his attention only for me. He and I had exchanged only a handful of words since he’d returned to Rosseley with his father, and the only times I had seen him were with other people attending and little chance for us to speak.
Now Stephen fussed over me as I mounted, making sure my feet were well set in the stirrups and the girth tight.
I prayed that the earl was not watching.
‘Maeb,’ he said, finally stopping to look up at me, one hand on Dulcette’s rein that I might not ride forward.
He paused, and I looked at him, feeling as if my heart turned over at the sight of his warm, handsome face.
He smiled, slowly. ‘I look forward to escorting you home to Pengraic,’ he said, his smile stretching even wider.
Then he slapped Dulcette’s neck and walked back to where his own horse waited.
I sat there a few minutes longer, searching for every layer of meaning to that short statement, and what that look in his eyes conveyed.
Soon enough, I recollected myself to look round. Surely the earl would be sitting his horse, staring at me silently.
But he was far distant, still on the ground, talking animatedly with the Earl of Scersberie, and I had the feeling that he’d not noticed a moment of what had just passed.
I turned Dulcette’s head for the road, where Lady Adelie’s cart waited for the main column to ride on.
That afternoon Stephen pulled his horse back to ride for a while by his mother’s cart, talking to her.
Together with Alice (Emmette rode ahead, before her mother’s cart), I rode a little distance behind the cart, which gave me the opportunity to sit and watch Stephen to my heart’s content. Of all the nobles and royalty in this travelling band, I thought him the most uncomplicated.
Eventually Stephen reined in his horse so that he